If there is no village to raise a kid, ask for help

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Subscribe to enjoy similar stories. I blame school. Or someone.

I want to blame somebody for giving me the idea that the way to win friends and influence people is to be helpful. I would blame someone if I could track back and remember where this disinformation started. My frantic Girl Friday mode never had to be reconsidered except in the few years where I worked in male-majority workplaces.

At those points, I had to nudge myself back to my basic training and looked blank when someone expected me to take minutes or pour tea. Otherwise, being helpful has never served me badly. Except occasional mockery from my very closest and brightest friends.

Which you know, is fair enough. The reason I want to blame someone is because of a recent revelation that the way to make community is not by helping others. Until last year, if you had ever asked me about favour-giving and favour-receiving I could have easily answered in hashtags.

#Blessed #Gratitude #Humble #UnbearablySmug #Etc. Living in your hometown and close to family and cousins and new friends and old friends will do that for you. I was always two phone calls from anything I ever needed.

Then we moved. My husband and I took a deep breath and considered independence-flavoured hashtags. Not bad, not bad, we said to ourselves.

Over the months, we figured that when people say you need grit, what they mean is that you have to grit your teeth. We did a lot of gritting. Also grinning and bearing.

Also muttering. Breathless week after week passed. The nice people we met in our first weeks who brought us rajma-chawal on moving day were also living breathless weeks so we rarely met.