13 Jul The Art of Educating
Last week, we stayed in an Airbnb in Colorado. The owner approached the rental experience from an overly helpful perspective.
In the kitchen, for example, the knife block on the counter was labeled, “Purchased from Bed Bath and Beyond in 2019. Steak knives are only for cutting meat. Use everyday knives in the drawer below if you’re cutting butter or other softer items. Hand wash knives, holding in downward position. Use a small amount of dish (not hand!) soap. Rinse clean with warm water. Wipe with a towel, being careful not to cut the towel.”
Every kitchen appliance had a similar label. Photos showed how to properly load the dishwasher. Under each light switch were additional instructions about which light the switch controlled. A whiteboard was covered in dry-erase notes, such as “Don’t let children use Sharpies in the house!” and “New tile floors – must be careful!” The board also offered phone numbers for urgent care, pizza shops, the library, hardware stores and more. On the table was a 4-inch three-ring binder with tabs detailing expectations, recommendations and rules.
It was as if the owner had examined every single item in the home and raced ahead to offer potential solutions for each and every challenge we might encounter. I imagined her writing frenetically, wanting to get all of the information out, appending her notes as additional details popped into her mind.
The information came from a good place. We had met the owner when she gave us the key, and she was a wonderfully kind and thoughtful person. I believed the instructions were in the spirit of trying to be thorough and offer the renter helpful knowledge and advice.
Yet, I had to admit I was overwhelmed and had a fleeting (but don’t worry, not acted upon) desire to put all the steak knives in the dishwasher, rebelling against both the proper loading of the dishwasher and the hand-washing technique requested for the knives. A way to free myself from the “cant’s” and “don’ts” and “musts” and “must nots” of the rigid house rules.
The way this homeowner approached the rental experience reminded me of the way helpers often approach the helping process, thinking that the person they are working with needs more education to pave the path forward. Helpers want to help, often by filling gaps in knowledge and anticipating where people might get stuck. There’s a natural inclination for those of us who have gone into a helping profession to adopt this directing expert role. Viewing ourselves as more knowledgeable, we feel a pull to share lots of details so the person we are working with can be fully informed. Knowing obstacles someone may encounter, we often want to get in front of the person and suggest a better way.
There are some similarities between ways to help people change and ways to help people navigate a weekly home rental. The most effective approach includes restraint. When we skip extraneous information and keep things simple, people are more likely to listen, understand and benefit from the information we provide.
Back at the Airbnb, trying to escape the notes plastered everywhere, I flopped on the couch with my head resting on a fluffy white pillow. I allowed my eyes to close and rest, enjoying the darkness of my eyelids as an escape from the notes that surrounded me. It was only then that I felt something scratchy poking into my head. I looked down to find yet another note, this one clipped to the pillow with a safety pin. “Keep these pillows on the gray couch. Do not let them go on the floor. These pillows are not for sleeping on.”
Another effort to push more information into my head. This time, quite literally.