Oh haiiiiiii
here, back with your weekly dose of awesome insurrectionist delight.[Reminder: I’m Sarah’s Friend, and I took over her Substack last year when she was out recovering from spine surgery.]
This week, I’m pulling a piece from the vault. It’s a piece I wrote in 2022 about what people mean when they ask if you work and why no dudes ever get asked this question.
ALSO, what the heck is supposed to be my answer?
Rhetorical. I have an answer, and I used it on my PCP who asked me if I worked with children when she saw I had the latest flu-de-jour. I said, “Yes, but unpaid.”
She did not laugh so she’s fired now.
Below is the full story of how a simple “just being polite” question turned into a social awakening for me. It is one thing to intellectually understand devaluing domestic labor. It’s another thing to actively participate in the devaluation, while elevating “not working for money” as a low-key status symbol of socioeconomic privilege.
[LOTS TO UNPACK THERE YALL]
I wanna hear your thoughts, but first, read the piece.
- Margo
Since we’re busy and clicking out is a lot of work, here’s the piece in full <3
When Other Women Ask Me “So, Do You Work?”— Here’s What I Need To Say
I remember where I was the first time it happened. We were in someone’s backyard. Our kids were playing together on swing sets and slides. We were engaged in small talk when she said it. I honestly think I froze in disbelief because it was 2021 and the last question I anticipated hearing was:
“So… do you work?”
My face looked like that emoji where your eyes are busting out of your head. The person asking me this was my age. She was my age! Once I got over the initial shock of impropriety, I became curious: What was she actually asking?
The next time someone popped the “do you work” question, I was prepared. This time the woman volunteered that she had three children and did not work herself, which is why she was asking. I looked at her sideways and began my inquisition.
[clears throat]
I asked her who keeps the mental tally of which kids prefer which snacks? Who knows when and where soccer practice is, and who transports the soccer kid to soccer practice? And who is responsible for figuring out what to do with the other two kids while the soccer one is at soccer practice?
I asked her who is aware of when kid #2 needs a new winter coat?
I asked who writes thank you cards, buys presents for birthdays, and keeps up with grandparents.
Who notices that kid #3 is afraid of rain and kid #1 is struggling with reading?
Who schedules doctor’s appointments (and who attends them)? Who RSVPs for playdates? Who notices when food is running low? Who keeps tabs on whether there is clean underwear in the closet and everyone has brushed their teeth?
In my experience, these tasks are rarely shared equitably between partners in homes that maintain a “traditional” structure, where one parent makes money and the other parent manages the domestic sphere. My suspicion was confirmed when this woman answered, “Me. I do all those things.”
“How is that not work?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I mean, it is, but it’s not like I’m going out of the house and making money.”
“I’m not sure what that has to do with work,” I replied.
Devaluing domestic labor is an American cultural relic I naively thought only men did. But this question was coming from women my age with an alarming frequency that had me wondering what exactly was going on.
What do we mean when we ask other women if they are working?
Are women trying to find solidarity or belonging in finding other women who “aren’t working?” Are we asking about that person’s socioeconomic status? (Probably.) Do we think we’re being polite? Or (my personal suspicion) are we still living in a confusing and outdated view of what work is?
The Second Shift—the seminal book by Betty Friedan about all the extra unpaid work that women do in the domestic sphere—was published in 1989. Countless other books have demonstrated domestic labor is labor. Mental labor is labor. Emotional labor is labor. Psychological labor is labor. Relational labor is labor. These types of invisible and unpaid labors are well documented, proven, and acknowledged in the literature. But not, it seems, in the zeitgeist.
Which is a problem thanks to “white feminism,” the breed of feminism that suggested that women “be just like men.” Women have been trapped in this type of “equality” ever since. Instead of accounting for all of the invisible household labor and childcare that women do, women continue to measure their worth by metrics that do not apply to them or the type of work they do.
Domestic labor is labor.
What, I believe, was supposed to happen was we were going to rally for why women should be afforded the choice to pursue their lives as they wish, with the freedom like men to decide whether they will opt into domestic life or not. To be entitled to an education, a vote, rights to property, and the right to work.
But what actually happened— was a complete EFFING DISASTER. They put down what was traditionally women’s work and placed “paid work” (aka: men’s work) on a pedestal.
[ This is not to ignore the ongoing battle between “stay-at-home” moms and “career moms” for first place in the Best Type of Mom Competition. It’s to say that this is why the battle exists in the first place and it’s a profoundly stupid and dangerous battle. ]
While we’re fighting against each other, we are missing the bigger picture.
Paid work was seen as real work. Legitimate work. Fulfilling work. It’s right here in this sentence: Women should be able to do “more” with their lives than “just be a housewife and mother.”
Paid work was seen as real work. Legitimate work. Fulfilling work. It’s right here in this sentence: Women should be able to do “more” with their lives than “just be a housewife and mother.”
Therein lies the problem.
Whether you choose domestic labor or opt out of it, you are certainly not better than it. What white feminism failed to do that it should have was elevate the domestic sphere. In trying to “prove” women can “do anything men can do,” white feminism inadvertently promoted the very ideas it sought to dismantle.
In trying to “prove” women can “do anything men can do,” white feminism inadvertently promoted the very ideas it sought to dismantle.
There are very rarely people who don’t work. But there are an enormous number of us who aren’t paid for our work.
We see this effect in action today when we boast of girls who are into Legos and schools that have STEM programs. It is ok for “girls to be into boy things,” but it is not ok for boys to be into “girl things.” The second anyone socialized as a (cis het) boy begins to love musicals or wants to play with a kitchen set, we are “worried” about him. Boys are supposed to enjoy toys that are violent, traditional, and masculine—things like cars, trucks, guns, alligators, rocket ships, trains, and dinosaurs. They are NOT to debase themselves with things like dolls, unicorns, cooking, or cleaning.
This is not equity.
This is a division by sexes, with one sphere on a pedestal.
Until our children are shown that cooking, cleaning, and caregiving are on par with economic work, and respected as much, we’re not fixing this problem.
Until our children are shown that cooking, cleaning, and caregiving are on par with economic work, and respected as much, we are not fixing this problem. Boys who are not allowed to play house or with babies and dolls, grow up to be a parent who doesn’t either.
A boy who is mocked for cooking and cleaning grows up to be an adult who treats these things with contempt.
We cannot move forward if we continue to devalue what is traditionally considered women’s work and insist it is not work but “a labor of love” that a “good mother” does willingly and voluntarily, as penance for “being supported by my husband.”
That isn’t a partnership. That is extortion.
Even if you love what you do, and you feel fulfilled by it, it does not mean it should be invisible or free.
In 1870, the United States decided to shift our census from households to individuals. As part of this change, alongside the movement of men to work in industrialized factories, men’s (but not women’s) work was now tallied and accounted for—making the family’s money now his money alone. By 1900, women and children were newly classified as “dependents.”
When the system of GDP was created, the men in charge debated including women’s labor and work. They determined it was “too hard” to account for the work of the home, and purposefully excluded it from our economic tally. As a result, virtually all of women’s work was dismissed as irrelevant and made invisible [See: Ann Crittenden’s work and every other historian on this topic].
“Wives are the only workers in the economy expected to work for no remuneration.” — Ann Crittenden
The primary units of our economy are skilled, productive workers—precisely the things that caretaking creates, because children become these skilled workers when parents bring them into society. As it stands, women create the backbone of the economy, raise them, perform labor for decades, and are never compensated.
To reiterate: our GDP is a made-up number to estimate how much we work as a nation. From the beginning, we willingly ignored the work of the home and of raising children. This was not an accident or an oversight. For more on this, read the incredible book by Ann Crittenden: The Price of Motherhood.
Saying “I don’t work,” isn’t accurate. It’s a form of cultural gaslighting.
Until we treat domestic labor with the same reverence as we do “real work” we will remain in this cultural culture-de-sac we inherited from our predecessors. For as long as we believe mental, emotional, relational, familial, and psychological work is not “real work,” we will continue to perpetuate the very status quo we seek to dismantle.
Until we treat domestic labor with the same reverence as we do “real work” we will remain in this cultural culture-de-sac we inherited from our predecessors.
So, to the next person who asks you if you work - please hand them this essay. Remind them that there are very rarely people who don’t work.
But there are an enormous number of us who aren’t paid for doing our work.
This piece was originally published on Startup Parent.
For more cultural diatribes from
, head to www.thatseemsimportant.com and get on her email list.
Love love love seeing an example of friends stepping up for friends in their time of need! I also love love love learning more about the economic decisions that shape motherhood in the United States. Adding The Price of Motherhood to my reading list! The only thing that doesn't sit well with me is directing this frustration at mothers specifically. *Shouldn't we aim our frustration and rage at policymakers who have the power to legislate change?*
When you asked, "What was she actually asking?" The immediate response that came to my mind was, "Are you economically independent?" Maybe she's silently suffering due to her own loss of economic independence. Hearing how you're able to earn a living while raising young kids might give her a few new ideas about what's possible. The question is clumsy and I've been hurt by it many times, too. But I feel a strong desire to give mothers asking, "Do you work?" more grace and more social support.
Regardless, I appreciate this discussion. It's so important!
I'm a recovering asker of "what do you do for work?" after having lived in New York and been in a lot of business-y circles for so long.
I still remember a mom I met saying, "Oh, I don't work. Well I do, I manage rental properties and run the household for our 3 kids."
It hit me that my original question is incredibly flawed and I liked that she followed up her initial response. Now I don't ask these questions, but it got me thinking a lot more broadly about what it means to "work". This essay really hit the ball out of the park, thanks for sharing it!