The Borrowed Ladder
Height changes the view in more ways than one. From the top of the wall, the climb may begin to look like a private achievement: a matter of nerve, balance and persistence. All those things were needed. So was the ladder, which has become surprisingly easy to overlook now that it is no longer carrying our weight.
I am less interested in denying achievement than in improving its memory. Help does not make an effort unreal. A patient teacher, a forgiving first employer or a room in which to study may be essential without doing the climbing for us. An honest account can accommodate both the effort and the equipment.
Passing the ladder back is a practical form of gratitude. It does not require the next person to resemble us or repeat our route exactly. Nor does it solve every inequality on the other side of the wall. It simply prevents one successful crossing from becoming the explanation for why everyone else should manage without assistance.