Last week I posted about one of my boys thinking that girls should go first (note: this would be done out of love for God, and, being a fallen creature, one would not expect him to actually do this, routinely, especially not when his sisters would be the ones benefitting). My sister commented that she had read an article where the consensus among four young women was that chivalry was creepy.
Sad.
I wasn’t raised to think I needed a man (or a boy) to open doors for me. I certainly never expected a man (or a boy) to stand when I walked into the room. But I don’t think I ever thought chivalry was creepy.
As my little group approaches doors, I’ll say, “Where are my gentlemen?” It’s my way of reminding the boys to move forward and open the door and hold it open for the rest of us. My girls are not usually strong enough to open heavier doors, but I do encourage them to hold them open as well. I think the main point in these exercises is to teach all of my children to be situationally aware, to be polite to others, and to help out. I’m sure that mother carrying a baby can open the door all by herself, but how nice to have a considerate person offer assistance.
Is there anything more annoying than a door slamming in your face just as you reach it?
I think that the issue of chivalry being perceived as creepy is also a matter of lack of humility. I know I am certainly guilty of this. It is very difficult to accept help. Having a man open a door for me is polite. I can accept good manners. But having a man or even a woman offer to help carry something? No, sir! Thank you very much. I can manage just fine. This is pride in the worst way.
We have a big dog, so I frequently find myself in the dog food aisle, very pregnant or with a baby in a sling, wrestling a 40 pound bag of food onto the bottom of the cart. Almost always, somebody stops and asks me if I need some assistance. If I could take a step back, I might see myself looking absolutely ridiculous as I insist that it’s no trouble for me at all to get that bag loaded in without banging the baby’s head on the cart or dropping her out of the sling. Who am I kidding?
I’ve been trying hard over the last few months to supress that instinct to decline help. Yet, even in my acceptance of assistance that ugly pride rears its head. There now, I say to myself. They can feel that they did a good deed by helping me. It isn’t me who needs help so much as they need to feel good about themselves, right?
It’s a long road. Fortunately, I discovered that the 20 pound bag of dog food is cheaper per ounce than the 40 pounder!
I’m learning that as I work on humility, I need to teach my children not just how to help others but also how to accept help graciously. In The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis echoes this in an example of a young man struck down with an incurable disease who is tended lovingly by his wife. “The man who can take this sweetly, who can receive all and give nothing without resentment…in such a case to receive is harder and perhaps more blessed than to give.”
As I begin Lent, I can reflect on receiving forgiveness when I have nothing to give in return. Am I humble enough to accept the gift?
Reit This Way 
I totally agree with your take on chilvalry and hope to teach my kids the same way. It is hard as a woman because we have that tendency to want to do it all ourselves. However, like you said, allowing someone to help you doesn’t mean that you are physically weak.Continue to fight the good fight (and let those guys help you with the dog food)!
Another hard one is to accept a compliment or gift gracefully, and just say, “Thank you.”
One of my favorite things is when Jonny shouts from the back of the van, “Don’t get out yet, Mommy!” Then he hurries out and around to open my door for me, and holds my hand as I step out. He learned it from his Daddy. 🙂
I agree with all of this, and to take it further, what about when we receive compliments? We need to teach our children how to receive them graciously (heck, I need to learn that too!) just as we receive help from others graciously.Good lessons.
Thank you for teaching this to your boys. The world could use a few more gentlemen. I have an award for you!
LOL, me too! I was loaded down with bags, suitcase, two chairs and I still insisted I was just fine getting a door open this weekend. Silly me! But I did let a lady help me with that zipper on my dress I almost had. Good Post!
So true. It is hard to admit we need help. But, think about that person who has offered to help. He has stuck his neck out, and who am I to say I don’t need it? Part of humility is putting another first — to make that person more important. In saying, not only, “yes, I need help,” but, “yes, how very kind you are to offer.”Humility is, as defined by catholicreference.net: The moral virtue that keeps a person from reaching beyond himself.I think you hit the nail on the head, Michelle.
It is very timely that you should talk about this! Two things:1. I noticed in the movie “Facing The Giants” (supposedly a “good family film” but we all thought it was horrible acting and shut it off after an hour) in one scene, the coach opened the car door for his wife. I thought at the time, “That’s weird, she didn’t have anything in her hands and she wasn’t ill or anything…huh, but they don’t have any kids…sooooo it’s like they are dating or something and they still do that?” but I chalked it up to being a “Southern thing”.2. After church on Sunday, the kids all had their jobs to do (helping each other out of the van, putting their stuff away), so my hands weren’t full (I was driving). I watched as Butch hopped out of the van (knowing that I didn’t really “need”) him. and walked into the garage without a backward glance.I heaved myself out of the van and thought, “Sheesh, maybe it would be nice to have the door opened for me and to have help hopping out of this huge thing for a change!Looks like I have some work to do because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who set things up this way! I’ll start with the little ones and work my way up!
Great post. I had the same issue with water bottles at Costco (instead of dog food). My pride refused to let someone help me, until my husband demanded that I was not allowed to shop there alone anymore while pregnant or postpartum for the first six months (or until baby can sit in the cart) because I was going to hurt myself or the baby. You know, because I had to do it. I’ve never heard of chilvalry being creepy though…that’s a new one.