“Fair does not mean equal.”

This comment, made in our Sunday School class yesterday morning, came to life in my head with flashing lights and sirens. It wasn’t just a lightbulb moment. It was a fireworks show. Never before had I connected these words to explain fairness so simply. I realize this concept is not new to most of you. In fact, you’re probably thinking, “Really, Jennie? I learned this 20 years ago.” I think I learned it 20 years ago too, but for some reason the concept left me. (It’s probably the Ambien.)

Anyway, I had share this idea with the boys first thing this morning because “that’s not fair” is repeated regularly around here, as it pertains to school work, gifts, chores, and so on. My responses have usually involved some drivel about life not being fair and it’s hard to understand and a bunch of other filler language. To my own discredit, I never sat down with them to teach fairness.

Behold, this morning, I had better words to use. I used the teaching opportunity first thing as we built a superior Lego castle.

“Let’s say I agreed to pay you one dollar for every A you earn this year in school,” I began. “And in May, when I tally your grades, we discover that Jackson earned six A’s and Jeremy earned four. That means Jackson will get six dollars, and Jeremy, you’d get four. Is that fair?”

“No!” protests Jeremy, highly offended at the example. “That’s not fair at all!”

“It isn’t? You both had the opportunity to work hard and achieve your grades on your own. Knowing what the reward was, you put forth your own efforts. If Jackson earned six A’s and you earned four, why isn’t that fair?” I ask.

“Because he gets more money than me,” he says. “And my work is harder anyway.”

“Yes, your work is harder, but you are also in third grade,” I say. “You were once in first grade and had the same work as Jackson. But you two aren’t doing the same things at the same time with the same abilities and talents. You are two different people who’ve both been rewarded for what you accomplished on your own. Besides, I treated you fairly by keeping my word with both of you.”

Jeremy looked disgruntled, on the verge of pouting, as if we’ve agreed to this financial arrangement. (We haven’t, by the way.) So I try again.

“Let’s say I give both of you a handful of garbage bags and tell you that I’ll give you five dollars for every bag you fill with leaves. At the end of one hour, you have filled five bags and Jackson filled one,” I say. Jeremy quickly multiplied the numbers to discover what he’d earn.

“That’s 25 dollars!” he said. “But Jackson would only get five.”

“So what if I said, ‘Aw, Jackson, good try! I’ll give you 25 dollars like Jeremy because you tried so hard.'” I could barely finish the sentence.

“But that’s not fair!” said Jeremy.

“You’re right. It isn’t fair to pay you both equally for unequal work, plus that meant I would’ve changed our agreement and not kept my word. I would pay you what you earned individually, especially because you knew in the beginning what the deal was,” I said. “You are in the same family but you are not the same person. Your abilities and my expectations are different for both of you. If something doesn’t seem fair to you that’s only because you are expecting it to be equal.”

I could see the lightbulb flicker in Jeremy’s eyes. Jackson, in his sweet simplicity, left the conversation minutes prior, focusing instead on the Lego castle.

“So even if Jackson and I don’t have the same stuff or get the same money or whatever, it can still be fair?” asks Jeremy.

“Exactly,” I said. “And if you felt especially generous, you would be welcome to share your extra money with your brother.”

“Yeah!” Jackson pipes in. I guess he was listening all along.