She sets out to prove that, while the feminist movement altered laws and government and even corporations (which, frankly, is news to me), it really did nothing to redefine the patriarchal notion of family whereby women remain the primary caregivers. Hirshman, a self-described feminist, set out to prove her thesis through interviews with 41 brides featured in the New York Times Sunday Styles section in 1996 (she got this idea from an episode of Sex and the City, of all places) -- women who were the very definition of the "elite" for whom feminism had failed.
She offers some seemingly sound data to show that even though these women were being accepted into professional programs and hired at the same rate as their male counterparts, they were leaving the workforce in anticipation of having children. But of course this is not new information.
Where Hirshman begins to shake things up, is in her refusal to attribute this "opt-out" rate to a male-oriented society, to a workplace that is "discriminatory and hostile to family life", to a systemic problem with work itself. Instead, she seems to blame the women themselves. "Women must take responsibility for the consequences of their decisions," she writes. She opines, "if half or more of feminism's heirs (85 percent of the women in my Times sample), are not working seriously [read: full time for high pay], it's because feminism wasn't radical enough: It changed the workplace but it didn't change men, and, more importantly, it didn't fundamentally change how women related to men."
"Liberal" feminists are also to blame for not being harsher critics of women who continue to take the primary role in childrearing, be it full time or on the "second shift":
liberal feminists abandoned the judgmental starting point of the movement in favor of offering women "choices." The choice talk spilled over from people trying to avoid saying "abortion," and it provided an irresistible solution to feminists trying to duck the mommy wars. A woman could work, stay home, have 10 children or one, marry or stay single. It all counted as "feminist" as long as she chose it.
Hirshfield argues that the whole concept of choice, while an easier sell than radical feminism, is wrong. Women cannot choose to take on traditional, underpaid, undervalued domestic work and not undermine feminism: "Like the right to work and the right to vote, the right to have a flourishing life that includes but is not limited to family cannot be addressed with language of choice."
She lays out three rules needed for women to live by truly feminist principals: "Prepare yourself to qualify for good work, treat work seriously, and don't put yourself in a position of unequal resources when you marry." She then goes on to say, what is in essence, avoid the liberal arts programs, pick the job that pays the best (forget altruism) and stick with it and if you want to marry and have kids, best you "marry down" so you retain the power in the marriage.
Gosh. It's all so very bleak. The only way for women to be feminist is to be a market-driven, work-oriented and treat marriage as economic decision -- the Feminism-as-Gordon-Gekko philosphy, I guess.
The author makes a number of assumptions which are just plain troubling. The first assumption is that brides featured in the style section of the Times are the best candidates for feminist living. I would make the assertion that this is almost patently not the case. If the style section in the Times is anything like those in the Canadian papers, the brides featured are not representative of the average upper-class, educated woman for whom feminism should be most alive. Rather, they are representative of brides who are accutely aware of social status (or whose parents or fiances are -- they tend to have the "I'm mortified" faces in the photo). And in my book, people concerned about "fitting into" and "keeping up with" society are not really the drivers of social change.
She also makes this assumption: "The best way to treat work seriously is to find the money. Money is the marker of success in a market economy; it usually accompanies power, and it enables the bearer to wield power, including within the family." Nowhere does she challenge the notion of success or power. So a woman who chooses to work in not-for-profit or stay at home is less successful, less powerful, than a woman who runs a Fortune 500 company. It is true that in today's society, her work goes unmeasured. But perhaps instead of pandering to a patriarchal definition of success, we, as feminists, need to redefine it. I just do not understand why only a woman succeeding at a man's game (by making the money, picking the "right" spouse) is deemed to be a feminist. Can a woman not be feminist by seeking to shatter the patriarchal money-equals-success-equals-power paradigm.
I almost did not want to give the piece any more airtime. But I hate it when one of these articles lands in my inbox without some accompanying challenge. Because as an MBA, ex-Bay Street (Wall Street Lite) now 'just raisin' babies' mom, I see myself in pieces of the article. And I am annoyed that things aren't better for me and for all women. And for a brief second, I wonder, "my god, is this true? Am I failing the movement? Will my choices in some way negatively affect my daughter (and my son) at some point down the road?"
And in a time when women -- mothers -- so need to collaborate and cooperate, I hate to see yet another article which seeks to divide. Usually I can dismiss these pieces as conservative propoganda but this wolf was dressed in feminist clothing.
I think that Miriam Peskowitz says it best "She's trying to find a book contract for this, god help us all. And she's a scholar too, she should know better about how to use evidence. Enough, enough, enough. We've got a whole country out here trying to make ends meet, and this is the crap we get, again and again and again."
Amen to that.
The National Post (a Canadian national daily) had an article in last weekend's paper by Anne Kingston (who is one of the few Post writers who does not make my teeth itch) entitled The latest motherhood advice is not about raising children, and subtitled The only acceptable stay-at-home moms are yummy. Seeing the word motherhood in the title, I immediately wondered, as Daphne de Marneffe calls it, 'Is it for me or against me?' When my eyes skimmed over Danielle Crittenden's name, I feared the worst. The article starts out with a brief plug for James Lileks's Mommy Knows Worst book, which pokes fun at parenting advice of the '40s and '50s (such as the recommendation to baste your babies in oil before putting them out in the sun.) Kingston points out that although such advice seems silly in our day and age, modern parents are not immune to advice givers such as the "those stern, boxy British Nannies...browbeating American parents about the need for discipline."
Then she writes: "What distinguishes motherhood propaganda today, however, is that it's most virulent strain is directed not at child-raising but mother-raising -- as in how to self-actualize as a Yummy Mummy." The Post, like many of their mainstream media counterparts, have featured a number of Yummy Mummy type articles such as this one which seem to treat mothers primarily as a self-indulgent consumer group, so I was interested to see what Kingston had to say on the topic.
Kingston discusses a Sunday Telegraph article (reprinted in the Post) by Danielle Crittenden which espouses the new Housewife Chic where "the old-fashioned, full-time mother at home is being celebrated -- as fashion icon, as status symbol, as sex symbol." Apparently Crittenden is enamoured with mothers such as Darla Shine who embrace the notion of the Happy Housewife without any sense of irony. (For a truly hair-raising experience, read some of the press releases for the Shine-approved Total 180 magazine. I was particularly fond of the one entitled: "Girlfriend Media Group and Darla Shine Join Together to Demand Respect for Women who Choose their Children Over their Career" which offers this gem:
It's the new feminism.... We are capable, educated women, but we don't want to break the glass ceiling anymore. We are reinventing ourselves and molding out lives around our children's schedules.
Charming.)
Kingston challenges Crittenden's notion that Housewife Chic is a new thing and also debunks her assertion that highly paid, educated women are opting out of the workforce as part of this trend (a slowing economy, not fashion, is taking women out of the workforce in slightly higher numbers than in previous years). She also sees this narrow view of motherhood as unpalatable for, in addition to the pressure of being fashionably Yummy, "there's also the indignity of having the back-breaking work and self-sacrifice involved in motherhood minimized as a "lifestyle" choice designed for self-fulfilment."
Hear hear.
In this week's question, Dr. Sue addresses the dangers of writing what you know (again, it has to do with other people! Why do writers always seem to come up against this "other people" issue??). This is something I grapple with often, especially as someone who writes mostly nonfction. Personal essays about my life necessarily involve other people, real people who know exactly who I'm talking about when they show up in my work. This is especially tricky when it comes to writing about my children -- one of whom now is old enough to read my stuff and take issue with it. How much is too much to say? How personal is too personal? What, really, is essential to my story, and what is just poaching off someone else's? Believe it or not, I don't publish everything I write, or even write about everything I'd like to publish. I'm squeamish about that gray area where the personal gets too personal, where the writing is more cathartic or therapeutic than in service of a story I'm trying to tell. Sometimes not writing about something too personal involving someone else quite personally is for the best; other times I think, crap, that's SUCH a great story, and I can never write it! (Because, really, what's the point of having a crazy family or a crazy life if you can't use it for material?) Dr. Sue's questioner asks:
- I am writing a novel featuring a good friend as the main character. Basically, I took her life and gave it a twist, an ugly twist. While much of it is not true, there are truthful elements to it that I'm sure she will recognize and be offended by. I am debating whether or not to pursue the publication of this story. If I do, I might lose her friendship. What should I consider and what should I do?
I think sometimes nonfiction writers can get so wrapped up in the story we're telling that we forget these "characters" are real people (or based on real people) -- that's happened to me a few times on my own blog (remember the woman in the elevator who turned out to be friends with someone who read my blog and wrote to me later to say she read the entry about her? the Oobi guy?). Things are a bit less gray with fiction, but even there drawing on the personal too much can get you in trouble. I worked on a manuscript last year in which one of the main characters was very much based on someone I knew in college. Sure, there were details that I changed, things I threw in that this person would never, ever do, character traits that didn't match up. But at the very basic level, this character was inspired by this real life person, and the whole time I worked on it I wondered if it was fair to write something based on someone who might recognize themselves if they read it. Luckily for my old college friend, no one's jumped at the chance to publish it, so I don't have to confront the question asked of Dr. Sue today. Read her wise-as-always answer here.
I'm nervous to be blogging here. Not to be blogging -- I write unabashedly over on my personal blog MUBAR (Mothered Up Beyond All Recognition). But to be blogging here. At Literary Mama. It's a bit scary for me.
Because there is a new group of readers -- ones who might find my fast and loose treatment of the semicolon, or my overuse of exclamation points (and italics) unsettling. Sophisticated readers seeking out literary mamas. Mamas who have read something slightly more pithy that Horton Hatches the Egg (although truly, I think that even that text warrants further discussion. Why is Maysie considered so lazy? She just wanted someone to sit on the egg while she took some time for herself. Is that so bad? Does she relinquish parental rights simply based on the need for some alone time?)
But, in spite of my trepidation, I'll wade in.
Andrea Buchanan turned me onto a discussion on Ask MetaFilter generated by this initial post.
My boss just had a baby. It's a small company. She's bringing it to work everyday. How do I tell her that this is bad?Call me old fashioned, but an infant should not be at work. I'm having a hard time dealing with a crying baby in my office, as well as someone changing diapers and also having my boss closing her door and breastfeeding while I'm trying to work. I need to somehow tell her that I have a big problem with this and how it is reflected on our companies' professionalism but I don't want to hurt her feelings, or worst even, look like a big grump. Got any pointers? I'm having a difficult time with this one.
While online forums (like talk radio) tend to attract commenters with extreme options, and are thus not necessarily representative of the population as a whole, the debate generated by this post raises some interesting issues.
What starts out as a fairly specific question about one particular situation quickly turns into a general debate on the appropriateness of bringing young children to work, presumably in lieu of other childcare options. After reading the first several comments, I quickly came to the conclusion that the issue had two camps.
There is the camp which believes that parenting is a private/domestic issue and the burden should fall squarely on the shoulders of the parent (read: mother); I'll refer to them as the "bad camp" since I might as well get my personal bias out into the open. A commenter using the name Agregoli sums up their beliefs:
I don't want kids, and I won't ever have them. I am not responsible for someone else's kids simply because they made a choice to have them. I hate that "it takes a village" crap. I made a conscious choice, and so did they. I don't have to share the burden of their children.
Speranza, also in the "bad camp," agrees:
You are absolutely not old-fashioned (or a "crank" about the breastfeeding). No one should have to put up with babies in the workplace unless you actually work with babies. I don't think I'd be terribly tactful in this case, because some parents really need a smack in the head with a clue-by-four to make them realise that not everyone wants to be around their kid as much as they do.
As a mother of two, I, of course, identify with the "good camp" filled with people like Occiblu, who writes, "it's nice when people recognize that raising the next generation of children -- your soon-to-be lawyers and teachers and doctors and judges and legislators -- isn't solely women's reponsibility, and maybe it's time we start recognizing that." It's easy fo me to say, yes -- right on -- amen.
But then things begin to become less straightforward. Tom g, who identifies himself as speaking from a "progressive/feminist" point of view, challenges the 'babies do not belong at work' point of view articulated by Agregoli and Speranza:
There are very few people who have the opportunity to do what is best for their child. I am nervous that you are going to ruin it for your boss and her child.... There are some great noise-cancelling headphones available for sensitive types like you. This way, your bosses baby can be where she is supposed to be - with her mommy.
Now wait a minute... Progressive? Feminist? Yes, tom g is from Massachusetts, is the parent to a four month old and is married to a La Leche League leader. But how is believing that a baby is "supposed to be...with her mommy" a feminist belief?
Surprisingly, it is Speranza from the "bad camp" who challenges tom g:
I feel that you are speaking from an extremely unfeminist point of view as you stated initially that babies should be with their mothers all the time (no mention of fathers) and you seemed to imply that it was more important for anon's boss to be a mother than to be anything else (like a good boss). As a feminist, I find it difficult to see what's feminist or progressive about suggesting that mothers bear 100% of parenting duties.
So tom g, who belives that children should be with their mothers is a feminist. Speranza also identifies him/herself as a feminist, in spite of writing:
Anon isn't being "sensitive" here, and I don't see why s/he should be the one to make compromises when it's the boss who's made the decision to juggle work and a kid. If it's so important for the baby to be with mommy, then mommy should've stayed home instead of coming back to work with the child so she can be a mediocre mother (is a place of work/office environment the best place for a baby?) and a shitty boss.
Well, now I don't know what to think.
There seems to be confusion when it comes to the idea of defining feminist parenting. One of the commenters refers to an article in Mothering magazine entitled "Babies in the Boardroom." The article interviews five mothers who bring their children to work with them in what appears to be an ultimate feminist utopia, where work colleagues act as the "village" raising the children, and breastfeeding during a meeting is common.
And yet the article does not feel partucularly "feminist" to me. The article's author writes: "While bringing your baby to work has an impact on everyone involved, it is primarily a way for a mother to respond to her natural instincts. Money can still be coming in, and baby can spend the workday near mom--in a sling or another close-to-mom setup." Language like "natural instincts" seems dangerous to me because a) it is alienating to women who do not want to spend the workday with their children (are their instincts "unnatural?") and b) by assuming that mothers are biologically hardwired to care for their children, it uncomfortably attaches childcare responsibility to gender, giving credence to the 'not my child, not my problem' argument.
An interview with one of the working mothers further compounds this point of view:
Bringing Sarah to the shop was her response to starting a family while building up her businesses. But Cath's situation is equally an expression of her ideas on mothering. She isn't comfortable with someone else serving as her substitute. "I want to be the one teaching Sarah the right behavior and providing for her. I couldn't hand her off."
Right. Couldn't "hand her off" like other mums do, being the implication. And in rolls the judgement.
This language plays into the hands of those who like to believe in the polarization of mothers and the "mommy wars," where women choose a side based on their so-called parenting choices. We choose to work or choose to stay home or choose to bring the kids to the office or choose to "hand them off". But, as most mothers will attest, it never really feels like a true choice. To me, it feels more like making the best out of a bad situation, in a society which is decidedly mother unfriendly. As one commenter points out, there isn't the degree of choice in this matter that some people believe: "In the states, most maternity leave runs out after 12 weeks, but plenty of childcare facilities won't take babies till they're at least 6 months. The options for what to do in the interim are extremely narrow. Taking your child to work is one of them."
I often discuss the whole mothering/working issue with like-minded mother friends. And I leave those conversations feeling refreshed and hopeful. I'm sure that we are all on the same page in believing that things need to change. We need to lobby government and big business for more accommodation of mothers in the workplace, for recognition of the work women do at home, for true choices. But I thought that we were well down the path of knowing what work needed to be done.
Getting a glimpse of what a broader audience, including self-proclaimed feminists, thinks about this issue make me much less certain.
To kick off the publication of my latest book It's a Boy, I'm launching a web-based book tour: the Blog Book Tour. With 50 bloggers participating, it looks to be a new and enjoyable alternative to hanging out in bookstores in random cities hoping to entice people to let me sign their books. Which is something I'll still be doing -- an actual physical book tour in January, to promote both Boy and the Literary Mama anthology, is in the works. But for now, I'm just touring the blogosphere, thanks to the interest and generosity of the excellent parenting bloggers who have agreed to participate.
Today Tertia at So Close blogged about her thoughts on the book and on raising her boy and girl twins; Katie Granju, a contributor to the Boy book, blogged about the book at her blog The Pop Culturephile and her personal blog as well. And I wrote about it a bit at Mother Shock and included the Introduction.
Tomorrow Jay Allen at The Zero Boss and Blogging Baby will be writing about the book, and at my own blog I'll be blogging about the first essay in the book, "Expectations," by Stephany Aulenback, late of this blog. The word on the street is that she'll be returning to blogging for Literary Mama soon! Until then, you'll have to content yourselves with the very small excerpt and Q&A that will appear on my site tomorrow.
Martha is one of my favorite online writer friends. She is also a force to be reckoned with. Read her impassioned response to Maureen Dowd's recent piece in the Times, In Defense of the Bake Sale. My favorite part is the whole damn thing, so I'll restrain myself and just quote a few choice paragraphs:
- Raising children well is physically and emotionally grueling. Imagine a corporate executive having to be near the office all day, every day, with no vacations - unless a trained proxy can fill in for the short term (such a person could never be trusted with the long-term health of the company). Oh, and the pay and benefits are zero dollars. Less, if you consider the expense of working the job.
Such an executive would be regarded as incredible. A true believer. Someone making noble sacrifices for the sake of shareholders. Either that, or insane.
And yet, these are the working conditions that people caring for their own children face. Physically, it is exhausting. The emotional cost is even higher, compounded by the uncertainty of the job. First time parents often say, "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, as long as it's a healthy baby." But even that isn't something we can count on. Nor is it an excuse to walk off the job. Any parent who's spent time in the hospital with a sick baby - as I have - knows you can't. You can give this job your heart and soul, and get no guarantees your child will even survive.
Parenthood is not mindless; it requires strategic planning and thinking. And I'm not just talking about the challenge of timing dinner preparation so that all the elements of a meal are done at the same time, all the while wearing a toddler legwarmer.
Rather, it's the planning that goes into a good life: figuring out how to grow our children's minds, discover their passions, develop their ethical and moral sense, keep their bodies fit and healthy, and out of trouble.
Even with top-notch childcare (which comes at incredible cost), parents still must be deeply involved in their children's lives to be confident of a good outcome, which benefits society as a whole.
To write this off as "volunteering at the bake sale" is the deepest of insults. That it comes from a woman makes it worse.