This post has been marinating for some time.
I’ve sat down to write, and backed away, afraid I wasn’t ready yet to fully capture what I am trying to convey. But after a phone conversation with my mother, I realized that it’ll never really be ready or complete, because what I want to write about is ongoing.
In fact, it’s been on my mind since we made the decision exactly 1 year ago to abandon life in Southern California, and head back to the quieter life in the Berkshires. A decision that included my returning to work full time, and the opportunity for James to say goodbye to the hell of corporate life.
When people heard that we were moving for my job, the first question was often, “But what about James? What will he do?”
When our response was, “He’ll stay at home full time with our daughter,” most expressed sincere admiration for this choice:
How amazing!
What an incredible guy!
I wish I could do that!
And while I appreciated their words of encouragement, I couldn’t help but think, if the situation were reversed, and we were moving for James’ job, would people so strongly applaud my decision to stay home? Would they even ask the question, “What’s Ashley going to do?”
James’ Stay-At-Home-Fatherhood has garnered such a mixed series of reactions, experiences, and observations. Sadly, I’ve found them mostly troubling. In my mind, they shed light on the huge gap we still must close before our society will embrace both men and women as equally competent and potential full time caregivers for their children.
There is much to be said about the difficult position many women find themselves in when choosing to either return to work while raising children, or choosing to forgo work to stay at home and care for their children full time. In either situation, women face criticism for their decisions and are challenged on either choice. Just today, my mother was commenting that she can only imagine the things that people were saying about her and my father when they were having a difficult time with my younger brother. She said, “I guess I don’t need to imagine. I know. They’d say, ‘Allison went back to work, and Wes went down the toilet.'”
It’s sad to think that blame for such a complex situation could so blithely be placed on my mother for her choice to return to a career she so enjoys. Similarly, she stayed home full time for 20 years, and I’m certain was judged as someone who was “wasting” her Master’s degree by “just being a mother.”
It’s a lose-lose.
Ultimately, when are we going to trust that people are making the best decisions for their family without outside judgment and pointed fingers?
I personally have not confronted as much judgment about my decision to return to work, and I believe that’s because the focus in our family is on the ‘uniqueness’ of James’ choice to stay home. People gravitate to that and I am saved the commentary about my choice.
Also, I should point out that this is not a “his choice/my choice” situation. We are a family. It is OUR choice.
When I met James at age 20, I knew within two weeks time that he wanted to be a father more than anything in the world. That has been clear from the start of our relationship. People don’t seem to understand that this opportunity is a dream come true for our family.
Sure, James has recently taken up some part-time work to help with finances. And sure, this does not mean that James will never go back to work full time. Much like my mother, it is more than likely that as the kids become less dependent on us and grow older, we’ll re-evaluate and our family situation will shift. But for now, it is an absolutely incredible thing that James gets to be the primary caregiver for our daughter.
With that being said, I must capture some of the moments that have jumped out to me as problematic since this shift. It’s a mixed bag of examples, and I don’t really know where I am going with this, so bear with me. Please.
1. As I started with in the beginning, James is consistently lauded for his choice to be a SAHD. He receives high praise and compliments whenever this information is brought to people’s awareness. They are AMAZED! AND AWED! AND OH MY GOD (gag me with a spoon), WHAT A POSITIVELY INCREDIBLE, OUTSTANDING, UNBELIEVABLE MAN!
It irks me. Every. Time.
Not because I don’t think my husband is amazing. I do. And he is. And watching him with our daughter is proof enough of that.
BUT SWEET JESUS! People are so over-congratulatory that it draws awareness to the fact that his choice IS so unique. Believe me, I of all people think stay at home parents deserve medals of gratitude and honor for the incredibly hard and important work that they are doing for the next generation, but the problem is, I never hear SAHMs receiving the same level and intensity of praise as James. In fact, I don’t hear praise for SAHMs at all.
Yes, this in many ways is a positive experience for James, to receive such affirmation. But I can’t help but squirm every time because I know that I would not be met with the same applause if we switched places.
I think all parents and caregivers (including child care providers and teachers because lord knows they aren’t paid enough nor acknowledged for their work to help support working parents and future generations) deserve the level of praise that James receives. I wish that our society would begin to outwardly value this work. I can think of nothing more important than raising thoughtful, caring, productive future members of society. And yet, it is the most undervalued and underpaid work in the world. (See my Master’s thesis for more ranting from an artist’s perspective). And I’ll leave it at that.
2. Not surprisingly, James is on the outskirts of life as a stay at home parent. As one of the only male figures in most playgroups, James sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s a sea of women and babies, and James. In fact, in Addison’s music class, they sing a welcome song. The children sing, “Hello to all the mommies, Hello to James The Dad.”
I had not had the opportunity to attend music class, and James had never mentioned it, so imagine my shock when I slipped into the final class of the semester and there was my poor husband being called out in song, making it more than obvious (as though it wasn’t already) that it is a unique and rare thing to be The Dad.
I wonder what messages that sends to the kids. A message for the little girls that they can expect to sit with their children in a playgroup when they grow up, and a message to all the little boys that they’ll be a loner if they take their child to a playgroup when they grow up. I realize that singing, “Hello to all the daddies,” doesn’t make sense if James is the only one. And I also realize that the kids are going to pick up on the fact that he is the only one regardless of how they sing the song. But it was just so shocking that that experience was being put to words for the kids.
It’s a chicken and the egg situation. More fathers at the playgroups will mean more acceptance and commonality among all stay at home parents, but how do you get there to be more stay at home fathers when we raise our children watching “all the mommies” as the caregivers? What breaks the cycle?
Certainly James is a part of that break.
But ah, social change. You are far too slow.
3. And a final exchange that is forever burned into my memory. A very high powered, well-educated, successful man and father bumped into me and James on the street in town. He had met me previously and I had told him that James was taking care of Addison while I was working full time. When I introduced James to him on the street, he said to James, “So you’re just staying at home, right?”
I could have died.
JUST staying at home?
JUST?!?! YOU?! MR. SUPER EDUCATED MAN WHO HAS ACHIEVED SUCH SUCCESS BECAUSE YOUR VERY WIFE STAYED HOME FULL TIME WITH YOUR CHILDREN ?! You are implying that staying at home is a JUST?! A not enough? A less than?!
As my jaw hit the floor, he went on to say, “I think that’s wonderful. I wish I could have had that opportunity with my children.”
Yes, so he demonstrated that he recognizes the value and appeal of James’ choice. But I could not wrap my head around that ‘just.’ I know it was in passing. I know that he is someone that knows the importance of strong parenting. But it made my heart crumble, because if a man who knows all these things, a man so well-educated, a man I admire and like very much, could slip and use such troubling language, what hope is there for the rest of the world?
And on that note, I’m done with this series of experiences. I wish I could piece together something more profound. More likely to elicit the change that is so necessary. But sharing these thoughts outwardly is a start. I hope.
And, James, I could never thank you enough.
