Helper

Once upon a time there were many small people.

They went to a Montessori school in Myanmar.

Their parents drove big cars down a private road owned by the school.

They dropped off boys and girls and helpers.

What's a helper, said Julia, five.

It's a young girl from a village who lives with you. 

Why does she live with us?

She needed a job. 

Oh, I see, said Julia. She's the one who washes our clothes, cooks our food and cleans our house. In math we learned that 26% of our people are unemployed. That's a big number.

Yes. Here's another number. 16% of the population has electricity.

Power to the people, said Julia. I carry my own stuff. I know how the world works. I am independent. Why does she have to carry the kids' books and bright plastic basket of rice, vegetables, fruit and drinks to the classroom?

She doesn't have to. She does it because some parents are afraid of letting their child carry it. They tell the helper to carry it. You've seen helpers dragging wheeled book bags across cement for primary and secondary kids.

Yes I have. They look sad. Why are parents afraid?

Excellent question. Maybe because the kids are small. Like us. Ask them.

Ok, bye. I'm going to meditate on this question now.

Bye Julia. Nice to see you.