I have refrained from writing a post on this topic for a year or two for many reasons:1) I have no interest in entering into any kind of "war" (or lesser battle) between "mommys"
2) my feelings on the subject are so complex and evolving I almost hate to communicate any of them, and
3) anything I write (for reasons of time and ability) will be insufficient to the topic, and it's a topic I care a lot about.
However, having just read the two above books back to back, I've decided I need to at least take a stab at this post with the caveat that it will not be complete, well written, or definitive.
First, a little background. Ever since I was a young girl, I wanted two things: a career and children. And I never really doubted that I'd have both. And both I have (in the singular for now at least).
An intellectual life has always been important to me. If you knew me in high school or college, you probably remember me studying a lot. The straight As I earned in throughout my years in school were not only a product of being a (usually) duty-bound first child, they were also a result of much curiosity, a love of reading, an interest in the world around me, and a drive for excellence in scholarship. And in the back of my mind I was always preparing myself for professional life, though I wasn't always clear on what type. As it turned out, I majored in English, minored in editing and poly sci, and then got an MA in American literature. I was cut out to be an academic. At the end of my MA program my professors strongly urged me (and sometimes still do) to continue on in a PhD program. But I decided in part not to go this route to accommodate my other life dream: children.
At 25, I was ready for a baby and ready to enjoy that baby, which for me meant not devoting my entire self to a PhD program. Having landed a flexible job I loved a couple years earlier--one that combined research, writing, editing, and the international--I decided to accept my career as settled and move on with family life.
I've always been drawn to babies. When at age 10 I found out my mom was pregnant, I told my best friend that I had the "best news in the world" to tell her--better even than her wildest dream (which was that our families were going to move in together and live in a house on the beach). My memories of Jesse as a baby are magical, I was always up for babysitting neighborhood kids, I had collected a bagful of baby clothes before even getting married, and the sight of a baby would send me into such giggling delight that Josh was worried about the amount of giggling that would ensue once we had our own baby.
Let me just pause here and say that one of the major problems I have with Rhoads' book (see my GoodReads for a more detailed review) is that he categorizes women into two major categories according to their testosterone levels--those who are more interested in careers and those who are more interested in children. And that does not ring true to me. I feel pulled in almost equal shares toward both.
Well, maybe that's not entirely true. Skip ahead to Zoë. As both Crittenden and Rhoads relate as being common, the love I felt for her floored me. However, the effect that this love has had on me and my relationship to work has been complex. I don't know how else to characterize it.
And here I need to pause again and say that I'm almost not qualified to discuss being an employed mother because my job and my husband are both so flexible. I worked at home for the first year and now only go into the office part-time, working the rest of my hours while Zoë naps or after she's gone to bed. When she's not with me, she's usually with Josh. And if she's not with Josh, she's usually with a grandma.
Having said that, after much reading and pondering and praying and talking, here are my conclusions about women and work: We do a lot of it. And the type of work we do is much more diverse than the professional/homemaker dichotomy would suggest, as are the reasons behind the work choices we make. And women engaged in all types of work regularly feel both a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment AND boredom and guilt.
Am I right?
Do I choose to work for a paycheck because I want to be an example to my daughter? Because I like accomplishing goals? For the medical insurance? For the intellectual stimulation? For the money? For the safety net? For the well-rounded person it makes me? Yes.
Do I choose to spend the rest of my waking hours (and therefore many of what could be sleeping/housekeeping/recreational hours doing paid work) with my daughter for her developmental benefit? For my emotional needs? For the social capital she will some day provide? For entertainment? Out of duty? For the pure joy of it? Yes.
So I guess that a starting point for what I'm realizing will need to be a series of posts is this: Rather than classifying women as those who work "inside" and "outside" of the home, it might be more helpful (or at the very least, more interesting) to map the fluidity of women's work, the emotional world of their work, and the nuances of their motivations.
And one thing is for sure--"value" is an important word to unpack in any discussion on this topic, but now I'm going to save that word for another post . . .
5 comments:
Very interesting post, Rachel. And especially interesting because Crittenden's book is sitting on my nightstand waiting for me! And especially pertinent for me, since I just finished grading student papers while my husband fed the kids breakfast--when he leaves in the morning, it's time for me to switch back to mother.
I think all too often we're so quick to divide along lines of stay-at-home or working mothers. When, in reality, every mother is working, just in different capacities. (Anyone who says a SAHM doesn't work has obviously never taken that role on for a day!) I love the points President Uchtdorf made last conference; work is an innate need that we all need to fulfill in order to develop properly.
With that said, I often find myself torn. Does being a SAHM mean turning my back on my education and potential? No, I don't think so. But it's taken me five years of motherhood to be able to see the value in working less and mothering more; in large part, that's probably also because my children are older and I am more secure in my self-definition.
Then again, I quit going to playgroups because I got so tired of hearing about potty-training and making hairbows when I wanted to scream: "I GOT A 4.0 IN GRAD SCHOOL! THAT MATTERS! THIS DOESN'T!" (but then again, does it matter anymore? I struggle sometimes to see the value in my education; has it really made me a better mother, or perhaps made me less satisfied? Was there a better path to take?)
I rejoice in being a mother, but I confess that I look at my son and feel a secret relief that he will never face the inner struggles over work vs. family that my daughters will.
ps--you inspired me to finally pick up the book. I got sucked in and read 70 pages sitting in the middle of my bed when I'd just gone in to pick up my water bottle. Oops.
I think this is an important thing to think about and an important discussion to have.
It's also a difficult discussion because it's so easy to see one woman's choices as a judgment on women who may have chosen something else.
I like the idea that workplaces and families are becoming more flexible, allowing more women to find that happy medium that you seem to have found.
I don't know what I'll do with my career if ever have children. It seems like all the most interesting jobs (including motherhood) are the ones that demand most of your attention most of the time. That sets you up for some pretty difficult choices.
Having said that, it's a dilemma I would love to be faced with. To have the skills and education for a career you love and be able to have your own child - pretty amazing.
A beautiful essay Rachel. Thanks for saying so well what many feel but could never think of putting into words the way you do.
I just wanted to let you know that I read this.....the whole thing, and I liked it.
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