When Kindness Quietly Turns Into Dependence
- Apr 13
- 7 min read
That day,
I was a parent volunteer at the Chinese school,
and I witnessed a moment that felt incredibly heartwarming.
During recess,
three boys were gathered around playing a simple tabletop game.
At the start of each round,
they had to roshambo,
so naturally, someone lost every time.
But instead of frustration, whining, or outbursts,
all I heard was a lighthearted “Aww~”
followed by laughter…
and then they moved on to the next round.
I sat nearby,
watching the three boys take turns going “Aww, Aww”
with big smiles on their faces,
and I couldn’t help but think—
If human interactions could always be this simple,
wouldn’t the world be more wonderful and peaceful!
Among them, there was one older boy.
He was the one who brought the game.
He was about one or two years older than the others
—his voice deeper, his stature a few inches taller.
Every time he came back from a trip,
he would bring a small souvenir for my son, M.
Sometimes he shared snacks too.
Whether during class or recess, he naturally looked out for M.
One day,
the teacher asked everyone to use a highlighter to mark some vocabulary words.
I watched him quickly and confidently finish his own work,
then casually pass the highlighter to M.
M took it,
completed his part,
and handed it back.
They barely spoke.
They didn’t even make eye contact.
This back and forth of lending and returning lasted through the entire vocabulary list.
The entire exchange was so smooth
that it felt like something that had happened many times before.
At that moment, I felt touched.
But underneath all that sweetness,
there was also a small, lingering sense of unease.
On the way home, I asked M:
“Why did you need to borrow a highlighter? Where’s yours?”
He replied casually,
“I forgot to bring it… and I don’t remember where I put it.”
When we got home, we found it almost immediately.
It was sitting at a very obvious place.
And that’s when a thought started forming in my mind:
"When help is always available…
does it quietly change whether a child feels responsible for themselves?"
A more defining moment came on the day of his presentation.
The assignment was to introduce his favorite book — in Chinese.
Students had to prepare a PowerPoint and present it to the class.
I didn’t help M at all. He had done his own work independently.
So that day was the first time I saw his full presentation.
He navigated the slides quite at ease.
But when it came to reading what’s on the slides,
whenever he encountered a word he wasn’t too familiar with,
he paused.
And then something interesting happened.
Every time he got stuck, that older boy’s voice would quietly step in.
He would softly say the word.
M would repeat it.
And then continue.
At first, I thought, oh he’s just helping a little.
But it kept happening.
Again and again.
Enough times where I realized that this wasn’t occasional.
This was a pattern.
What stood out even more was that
M was not the only student who presented and struggled that day,
but he didn’t step in for them, only for M.
As a parent and educator, I had to ask myself:
Is this kindness?
Is this, in some way, over-helping?
And could this be brooding entitlement?
I broke this situation down into three layers to make sense of it:
Facts
One child consistently helps my child
My child is beginning to rely on that help
The help takes the form of giving answers directly, not guiding
Inferences
My child may be losing opportunities to “push through” on his own
He may be starting to expect: “If I get stuck, someone will step in”
A subtle dependency dynamic may be forming between them
My Perspective
This relationship is sweet and heart-warming
—but if left unadjusted, could it affect his long-term development?
As I pondered upon this issue, Instead of relying on intuition alone,
I dug deeper into the two key relevant psychological concepts:
Learned Helplessness
Enabling
Learned Helplessness
This concept of “Learned Helplessness” was first introduced by Martin Seligman in the 1960s–70s.
In his famous experiment, dogs were divided into three groups:
Dogs that could stop an electric shock by pressing a button
Dogs that could not control the shock, no matter what they did
Dogs that received no shock
Later, all dogs were placed in a situation where escape was actually possible.
What happened?
The dogs that had previously experienced lack of control (Group 2) did not even try to escape.
Even when the exit was right in front of them, they stayed and endured.
Seligman’s conclusion:
When an individual repeatedly experiences that effort doesn’t matter,
they learn: “Nothing I do makes a difference.”
Eventually, they stop trying.
Later research made a critical extension to the psychology of human:
⇒ It’s not just repeated failure that leads to helplessness
⇒ Excessive help can create a similar effect
Coming back to my son’s case, during his presentation:
He got stuck
He hadn’t fully tried yet
The answer was immediately given
His brain might be learning:
⇒ Not: “I can’t do this”
⇒ But: “I don’t need to do this”
That distinction is crucial.
Now imagine three children:
Child A:
Gets stuck → thinks → figures it out
⇒ Learns: “I can do this”
Child B:
Gets stuck → tries → gets a hint → figures it out
⇒ Learns: “Effort helps”
Child C (similar to M):
Gets stuck → doesn’t try → gets the answer
⇒ Learns: “I don’t need to try”
Over time, Child C doesn’t have less ability—
just fewer chances to use it.
Enabling
When help starts replacing responsibility,
it becomes enabling.
This concept appears across Family Systems Theory, Addiction research (especially codependency), and Educational psychology.
It describes a pattern where:
Out of good intentions, one person repeatedly “fills the gap” for another—
so the other person no longer needs to face consequences or take responsibility.
This happens everyday that turns help into:
Forget something → someone always lends it
Not prepared → someone covers for you
Get stuck → someone gives the answer
The brain actually adapts quite efficiently:
“If I don’t have to handle it, I won’t invest effort into it.”
This isn’t laziness.
It's an adaptation.
So coming back to the incident of the highlighter pen,
On the surface, it might look like helpfulness between the classmates.
But if this goes on frequently enough,
It’d turn into
“It’s fine if I don’t bring mine,
someone will lend it to me anyways.”
These type of situations occur quite commonly in the adult’s world as well:
Your colleagues always help you finish up → You submit your work later and later, and can keep putting it off.
Your partner always handles your daily chores → You become more and more dependent and don't need to do anything anymore.
Parents constantly remind their children → The children never remember on their own, since someone will remind them or do it for them anyway.
The behavior isn't actually getting worse;
it's just that "the environment allows me to not improve."
Therefore, when a child gets used to "someone will fill in for them,"
their brain gradually learns:
"I don't need to struggle" (learned helplessness).
At the same time, this is also a form of "enabling"
— it’s not about the act of helping too much,
but help that begins to replace growth.
Here I also had to remind myself not to fall into the cognitive bias of:
“If there’s risk, then helping must be bad”
That’s a false binary.
Often, as parents, we’d tell ourselves:
“It’s great that someone is willing to help my child.”
"It's all about friends when you're out in the world!"
"Having someone help means they are pretty popular with others!"
Indeed,
research has repeatedly shown that children who have support and peer help generally have stronger emotional security and social development.
But right now the issue isn’t “to help or not to help.”
It is:
What kind of help?
Help has different ways, different levels, and different corresponding effects:
Giving the answer → fastest, least growth
Giving hints → promotes thinking
Thinking together → builds confidence and ability
The difference is massive.
So the real adjustment wasn’t about:
Stopping the older boy’s kindness
Or eliminating my son’s reliance
It was about upgrading the interaction:
From “doing it for you” → to “helping you grow.”
So, returning to the core question of parenting, the question isn't:
Should I stop this boy?
But rather:
How can I ensure my child continues to grow while being helped?
How can I help those who are helping him become "wiser helpers"?
On the way home, I didn’t criticize him.
Instead, I asked:
“During your presentation, do you remember how many times you got stuck?”
“A few times…”
(There were many, but I didn’t correct him.)
“When you got stuck—did you figure it out, or did someone help you?”
“He told me…”
I paused, then asked:
“If he didn’t tell you… do you think you could’ve figured it out?”
“…Maybe.”
That moment mattered.
Not because I gave him an answer—
but because he started thinking.
I continued:
“If you did figure it out on your own, would it feel different?”
“Yeah… I’d feel good about myself.”
I didn’t say, “Don’t let him help you.”
Instead, I made a simple agreement:
“Next time you get stuck, try thinking for just a little bit first.
If you really can’t, then you can ask for help.”
“Okay.”
That was enough.
A few days later, I added:
“There are actually three kinds of help.”
“Like what?”
“Giving the answer,
Giving a hint,
Thinking with you and letting you figure things out yourself.
Which one do you think makes you better?” I prompted.
“Thinking with me and me coming up with the answer myself.”
He said so himself.
In the end, I didn’t stop the other child.
But I started doing three things:
Teaching my child how to recognize “good help”
Training him to pause and try before seeking help
Creating more opportunities for him to succeed on his own
This experience showed me two lovely children:
One is learning dependence.
One is practicing kindness.
And parenting was never about choosing sides.
It’s about helping both grow:
The one receiving help becomes more capable.
The one giving help becomes more wise.
What Would You Do?
A. Stop the helping
B. Let it be
C. Guide how to help
Tell me 👇
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