Today, when I stepped out of my car at the end of my lunch break and bid my husband (who was driving) and my baby boy (who was not driving) goodbye, I saw a colleague also returning from her lunch. I waved her over, because she’s mentioned wanting to meet my baby, and introduced her. Well, sort of. Does it count as an introduction if one of the parties sleeps through it?
On the return walk to our brick building, she asked, “Where did you go out to eat?”
“Oh, I’m coming from home,” I explained. “Every day he picks me up and drops me off, so that I can see my baby and eat lunch at home. That kind of quick turnaround wouldn’t be possible if he was employed. But because he stays home with the baby, we can manage it. I’m very lucky.”
“That’s one way to do it,” she said. “But it’s not ideal.”
Now I became confused. “It works for us.”
“I suppose,” she said. “It’s not as bad as leaving your baby at daycare.”
Well then.
At this point I mumbled something polite. I see this woman every day, I don’t like people being mad at me, and I’m also a person who’s better at formulating the perfect response later (usually, at two o’clock in the morning). But I wish I’d called her on it, and now it’s too late. She probably doesn’t even remember what she said, though I do. I do, and I receive these comments constantly.
I work two jobs. I like both jobs. Even if I did not have to work to earn income (say, if I found a winning lottery ticket in the street), I would want to work. On top of that, I write. I honestly think I would not be a productive writer if I did not have so many commitments. When I find time to put words on the page, I buckle down and I really do it. Sometimes it’s hard to push through the exhaustion, and sometimes I make more mistakes because I’ve so much moving around in my mind, but having so much outside my own self to focus on, to bring into my work and home to my family… I attribute my health and my happiness to it, and I’m unbelievably grateful that I have the chance to support my husband while he completes his doctorate and while he cares for our son. It adds an additional layer of richness to even the smallest of chores.
And nothing, nothing not ever, could persuade this woman of that. Anything I said would sound like an excuse. And so I said nothing at all, really.
If your Facebook feed is anything like mine, you’re probably seeing a lot about microaggressions, in addition to the other content relating to the increasing awareness of civil rights for minorities/disenfranchised groups from all walks in life. I know and appreciate the privileges I do have, and I try hard to listen to the discussion, because so many people have such valuable things to say about the movement that’s blooming around us, and our places within it.
Today, every meeting I went to, I was the only woman. And I was the secretary.
It’s little things like this that just… add up. I’m not even angry about it. I haven’t been angry for a long time. Maybe not since the first time I paid for something and the man behind the counter turned to my husband and shook his hand instead of mine. Pleasure doing business with you, sir. I can’t afford to be angry about these things, because I couldn’t and still be able to happily live.
Do you know who is angry? Mr. Hyde. He asked that I write this.
Let’s go back and break this down: “It’s not as bad as leaving your baby at daycare.”
1.) “Leaving” your baby at daycare. The definition being used here, I think according to the Merriam Webster, is definitively “desert, abandon.” It heavily implies that parents who have children in daycare are negligent. I do not agree with this. Read this excellent piece in Slate about that. I think the most important thing is to provide loving support and a happy environment for a child. This can be accomplished in many venues.
2.) “It’s not as bad as…” That implies that my husband’s care is somehow still bad. It’s just not as bad. Why is this? Is this because my womanhood magically confers upon me a superior ability to interact with children? Or is this because his masculinity makes him automatically a bumbler? Either way, it’s not good for our baby. We’re clearly bad parents (or, if she’s being forgiving, parents who are doing their insufficient best) because the man’s at home and the woman’s at work.
A microaggression like this, in my opinion, is what the discussions of intersectionality are all about. I think many people can have a knee-jerk reaction when confronted with the conversations currently taking place about civil rights, privilege, etc., because they have an instinctive understanding that this may result in the change of a hierarchy that they know how to work within, a hierarchy that (directly or indirectly) benefits them. To them I say: You can look at it as losing something (the automatic respect given to a cis white male, for example) or you can look at in another way.
Because I don’t see it as losing. Not for anyone. I gain the right to a workplace with diverse voices and my husband gains the right to stay home if he damn well wants to. Instead of looking at this as a loss, could we all try to think about this in terms of what we might, together, gain?
The takeaway? We’re in this together. Change what you think. It’ll change what you say.
I believe in happy endings. And also, here is the bunny that lives in my backyard:
