How Do I Get My Kids to Be More Responsible?

By Jorinde Rapsey

If you read my last post (and if you didn’t, you can find it here), you might have felt a glint of frustration where I reflected on the moment I paused and took a breath at the sight of a bench full of dirty dishes - after leaving the house that morning with it clean and empty.

“Come on” you might think. In the whirlwind of raising kids, “Just take a breath” can sound like one of those iconic Tui billboards: “Yeah, right.”
Like “sure, I’ll breathe... right after I step over this pile of laundry and scrape peanut butter off the ceiling.”

Several of you wrote to me after that story - thank you. I really appreciated hearing what questions it stirred in you. I enjoy being in dialogue, and I have taken your questions into consideration:

• “How would you actually do this differently, to help them take more responsibility?”
  
• “What are the words around how we offer something new?”
  
• “I’d love to hear exactly what you might say to your daughter from that open-hearted place. What does it sound like?”

One parent wrote something that I imagine really resonates with all of us parents:

“The needs for respect, consideration and teamwork resonate deeply with me in a very similar scenario to what you described walking into the kitchen that repeats at home like that movie Groundhog Day. 

Pausing is hard, I feel like a ball of built-up irritation sometimes from re-living the day over and over, like Bill Murray halfway through that movie... 

The thing is, I do still want/hope for the kids to learn how to clean up after themselves as well as out of respect and consideration!...

I do want them to learn to pop the dirty dish into the dishwasher and wipe up the fruit juice off the bench so they learn to use a plate next time.

I do want them to make the effort and take responsibility when they leave a pair of expensive borrowed shoes behind at dance class, to search for them, to call the teachers, call the school, ask if there is a lost property box, etc. Own up and apologise to the person they were borrowed from..”

This is the heart of it, isn't it? 

How do we raise compassionate and responsible humans - without coercion?
What would Marshall Rosenberg, founder of Nonviolent Communication (NVC), offer here?

A Real-Life Example: The Case of the Missing Dance Shoes

Taking the example as described above, let’s say my friend rings and asks me to return the dance shoes tomorrow. I check the bag. No shoes. They were definitely in there yesterday.

Now what?

Step 1: Connect With Yourself First

If we’re not totally depleted (easier said than done for many of us parents in this day and age, for a helpful video/article click here), we start by noticing what’s alive in us.
This is a crucial first step - one we weren’t trained to take in our culture. But it’s something we can learn: Just like brushing our teeth is part of caring for our physical hygiene, self-connection is part of tending to our emotional hygiene. It’s not something we do only in a crisis - it’s powerful as a daily practice, so we can show up with more presence, clarity, and care, especially in more challenging moments.

We pause - not to push away our unpleasant feelings - but to meet them with compassion. The feelings that are alive in me, tell me that there is a precious need alive in me. So I ask myself:

• How am I feeling?
• What do I care about here?

Maybe I notice: I feel anxious and tense… because I care for our - and others’ belongings, I value respect, and reliability. 

Step 2: Ground Yourself in Intention Before Speaking

Alongside checking in with how I feel and the needs behind those feelings, I also take a moment to set an intention to connect, before I speak.

Why is this step so important?

One of my teachers, Yoram Mosenzon, says:
“Children are great crap detectors.”

You’ve probably experienced this - maybe you’ve heard someone (or even yourself) say something, but their body language, facial expression, or tone told a completely different story.

If someone’s words are saying one thing, but their posture, tone, or expression suggest something else - isn’t it the unspoken message that often carries more weight? 

So much of our communication isn’t about the words themselves. It doesn’t matter how clear or well-crafted my words are. If my intention is off, my child will feel it. And in my experience, they’ll respond to the energy behind my words, not just the words themselves.

Our nonverbal communication is largely shaped by our intention.
That’s why setting an intention helps me stay congruent - so my words, tone, and body language are all pointing in the same direction:

I want to support my child in developing responsibility - but not through fear, guilt, or shame. I want this to be a moment of connection and learning, not control or disconnection. I care about my needs and my child’s needs.

When I come from a place of self-connection where I’m in touch with my feelings, my needs and I have set an intention, I can meet my child with a genuine openness and curiosity. I truly trust that something life-serving can emerge between us.

Step 3: Begin the Dialogue With Curiosity and Care

Marshall Rosenberg’s four steps - Observation, Feeling, Need, Request - can guide how we begin a dialogue. What’s essential in a dialogue is that I’m open to what might evolve; I’m not attached to a specific outcome. I see dialogue is a sacred space where new possibilities are born. 

Observation:
“Sweetheart, when I hear you say you don’t know where the dance shoes are, and I see you continue to play…”

Feeling:
“…I feel a bit uneasy and worried.”

Need:
“It’s really important to me that we care for things our friends generously share with us.”

Request:
“Would you be up for brainstorming some ideas to help us find them?”

Or, a more playful version (kids need play):

"Hey love, I see how hard it is to pause what you’re working on. I feel concerned not knowing where the shoes are - I really want to get them back to our friend. Want to team up as detective partners and solve the mystery together?"

Back to My Story: The Dishes on the Bench

With my daughter, I know she understands the value of caring for shared spaces. So if the dishes are still there, I figure something came up - she had some other things she chose to attend to, got distracted, or just forgot. So I might say:

“Hey love, I came home pretty wiped out and noticed the dishes on the bench. I’m feeling drained and really wanting ease and teamwork around the house. I’m guessing you either forgot or were caught up in something that mattered to you?”

This way, I’m sharing what’s alive in me - and making space for what’s alive in her.

She says:

“Yeah, Mum… I had so much on today. Super busy…”

And I say:

“Sounds like a full-on day…”

That simple reflection - just saying back what I heard - is powerful. It may not sound like much, but it’s a skill that takes awareness and practice. It’s so easy to fall into the habit of bouncing the ball back with something like, “Well, that’s no excuse not to do your bit, darling...”

This tends to derail that sense of openness that was growing between us. But when I stay present to her experience - really stay - it increases the chances she’ll want to keep the dialogue going, and that we’ll find a way forward that works for both of us. 

After my reflection, she continues: 

“Yeah…” 

She tells me a bit more about her day and ends with: 

“But I can clean up soon, after feeding the horses.”

I respond:

“I appreciate that. How about I make a start while you feed the horses, and then we team up in the kitchen—you could chop the veggies for the pasta sauce?”

When It's Messy: Trusting the Deeper Current

If you’re reading this and thinking, “Sure, but that sounds a bit too good to be true,” I get it.
Maybe you’re wondering, “What if my child ignores me and says no?” or “What if I just don’t have the time or energy for this?” 

I see these as real, important questions - ones that don’t have one-size-fits-all answers. In real life, things often get messy. 

Unpacking these fully would take us well beyond this page but they’re central to what we cover in our courses. (Feel free to reach out if you'd like me to dive into anything that comes up in you in more detail.)

What I’ve seen again and again, though, is that it is possible to stay grounded in a parenting approach that’s neither coercive nor permissive - one that’s deeply respectful of everyone’s needs, including our own.

Rather than slipping into lecture mode or trying to convince our kids telling them they “should take responsibility,” we can invite them by trusting something deeper: our child’s built-in longing to be part of something that nurtures others.

Marshall Rosenberg believed that as human beings, we have an innate desire to contribute - especially when we’re not being threatened, punished, or coerced. He often said that the natural state of humans, including children, is to enjoy giving when it’s free from obligation or fear.

I invite you to really take this principle to heart the next time you ask something of your child. Let it guide the way you see them, the way you speak to them, and the trust you place in their capacity to care.

To support us in staying connected to this, I want to return to the breath in my original story - and why that moment mattered.

Coming Back To The Breath

When I walked into that messy kitchen and chose to breathe - that was a big deal for me.
Even though I know the NVC steps and principles, that doesn't mean I don't struggle to speak from my heart. So every time I manage to breathe, notice my habitual response and do something different - that's a huge celebration for me.

And what I see is that this ability to pause and to connect to my heart came from my network of support. Over the years, I’ve learned to see the value of surrounding myself with people who can listen without judgment or advice - who help me reconnect to what’s alive in me when I feel stuck. 

Our cultural conditioning is strong.
And when we’re stressed, our brains default to those old grooves.

So having that network of people who I can ring and ask to listen to me with compassion and warmth - who can hear my stories, my spirals, my overwhelm - that’s everything.

And in that kitchen moment, a wave of gratitude came over me. Because I knew I wasn’t alone. Because I’ve created a village around me. I remembered the quality of presence and care, all those moments where I reached out to someone who was willing to be present to me.

If we wish to raise compassionate and responsible humans without coercion, it doesn't just take practice. For most of us, it takes a village. A village of people who aspire to embrace a life of authenticity and compassion. The tools that NVC offers, and the shared journey with others committed to this path, are part of that. And yes, it takes time to build. But it's soo worth it, I can truly say that I haven’t found a more meaningful way of living yet!

With warmth and care,

Jorinde Rapsey (Co-founder Peace Talks NZ)