The Tea Turned Cold in the Cup,
or, Why Women’s Work is No Work
When I was a teenager, my parents agreed that I was academically gifted, but had no practical talent whatsoever (by contrast to my brother); this was despite the fact that I had been capable of cooking and baking and taking over the household to the same exacting standards, whenever the need arose, from the age of twelve.
This must mean that domestic work is no practical work and no skilled work either.
When I looked for odd jobs during my university studies, I had no experience to offer, apart from some intellectual gymnastics such as teaching Latin; this, despite the fact that I had already participated in the never-ending cycle of housework for almost twenty years.
This must mean that domestic work does not even qualify as disciplined unskilled work.
When I later looked for employment other than domestic, I could not offer any examples of independent work or teamwork or time-management; despite the fact that as an au-pair (or really, domestic servant), I was in sole charge of children, cooperated closely with other adults responsible for them, and managed a raft of chores. Often, I juggled three tasks, so that the tea I had made myself turned cold in the cup next to my busy hands: there was no time to lift it to my lips.
This must mean that domestic work is neither intelligent nor demanding.
Since I have pursued a career and ended up mainly sitting at a desk, I have to be apologetic about not doing enough, or vigorous enough, exercise; this, although I look after family, house and garden for as many hours again as I spend at the office, almost all the time on my feet or on my knees – bending and stretching, pushing and pulling, kneading and wringing, lifting and carrying, rushing up and down and out and in.
This must mean that domestic work is no physical work.
I conclude that housework as employment is low-status and low-paid, considered low-skilled and of low importance. The same work unpaid, in the context of the home, is no work worth mentioning, no work at all.
Since domestic labour obviously constitutes a very considerable part of the labour performed every day, across the globe and across history, the question arises why it is classified as low labour or non-labour.
I suggest that the labour is overwhelmingly performed by women, whereas the world view is established by men – and massively supported by women.
Photograph: Home-made cakes. Christina Egan © 2012.
When a woman cooks a nourishing meal from scratch for her family and afterwards wipes the table and counters, scrubs the sink, rinses and washes all the crockery and cutlery, all the spoons and utensils, and the casserole or baking-tray, will she say: “Well, washing up is as much work again as cooking”?
No, she will say: “I do it by hand. It’s only four plates.” And she will say it with a shrug of her shoulders and a throwaway tone.
When a woman makes a beautiful cake for her friends – buying the ingredients, chopping some fruit, mixing the dough, waiting around for it to bake, or more likely, getting on with other work in the meantime, then tidying and cleaning everything – will she say: “Now, this has taken a few hours of my life, but it has been worth it”?
No, she will say: “That cake is in the oven in half an hour!” And she will say it with a half-laugh and a throwaway gesture.
When a mother manages an impossible workload of job and studies, household and childcare – as if she were juggling four balls – and then has to put up with a rather modest career, will she exclaim: “Ah, well, I am potentially brilliant in everything and indeed brilliant overall – I am superwoman!”?
No, she will state: “I am not good enough.” And she will state it with a whisper and a blush.
Finally, when a woman writes in to the newspapers – which ceaselessly present success stories of female film stars or female politicians who are rarely at home but have six children or a newborn baby – and states her exasperation at being blocked by several hours of housework per day even without any children, will other women rejoice that someone has pointed out the elephant in the room?
No, they will ridicule her by responding: “Have you got a mansion?” And the world will be all right again.
Women will blame the burden of studies for lack of progress at work, and the burden of work for lack of progress at studies, yet for neither will they blame housework. They might quote responsibilities for dependents, yet not the chores due for dependents, much less for a partner, and never for themselves. It seems that only very young children need food and clothing and shelter, children of school age much less so, and adults none at all.
Women who are less successful than men will rather admit to lack of intelligence, lack of motivation, or lack of discipline than mentioning the unmentionable, the pathetic, the negligible: the mundane and monumental task of keeping a home. How many degrees were left behind for dinners; how many promotions lost out to dirty wash; how many stories were never written, only planned, while the author was sweeping the floor?
As a last resort, women will blame their health: they have underlying conditions; they have issues. The idea that these issues of women may have been exacerbated, triggered, or caused by overwork and ultimately by an overload of housework, does not occur to them or anyone else. Domestic labour is not considered physical labour or demanding labour, it does not count as a night shift or Sunday shift, it does not account for lack of breaks or lack of rest. Women’s work cannot cause stress or fatigue or illness because it is no proper work.
It is the women who play down the burden of necessity; who cover up the inequality and injustice of the system; who hasten to blame themselves for trailing behind men. It is the women who, instead of accusing this primitive society, apologise for not performing well in the domestic sphere and in the professional sphere and elsewhere and everywhere at the same time.
This is the self-imposed servitude that Kant exposed: the collective submission to the status quo. Well over two centuries later, we still need Enlightenment.
Photograph: Home-made cakes. Christina Egan © 2016.
The notion that women are paid less although they work as much and as hard is erroneous: women are paid less although they work more and harder than men. In fact, women are paid less because they work more than men.
If you take into account that women spend much of their time and energy on domestic chores, it stands to reason that they have less space left for their education, training, development, paid and unpaid work, and are less likely to be promoted.
You wonder why someone devotes an essay to something as humble as cleaning toilets or filling washing-machines, and why this should be a political issue. Well, it is a question of principle but also a question of scale.
If you work out that a woman’s additional labour – by comparison to the life partner or other male peers – may well amount to 1,000 hours per year, you reach the figure of 10,000 hours rather soon across a lifetime. This is supposedly sufficient to become a veritable expert or great artist; and this is cut out of women’s lives, with no one noticing a hole as big as the Bermuda Triangle.
This is not about cleaning the toilet alone: it is about cleaning 50 toilets a year, 500 toilets in ten years, several thousand in a lifetime – and not doing other things in that time. (The fact that it is always the same toilet does not markedly improve the situation.) This is about washing a staggering 30,000 garments and towels and sheets in the machine every ten years, and some more by hand. (Please note that these are low estimates for a family of two; with several young children, you may be talking 100,000 items of laundry across ten years.)
We have to rethink. Women are often classified as ‘part-time’ workers because they work double shifts. Many are seen as ‘low-skilled’ workers because they develop a wide range of skills. Even very educated or ambitious women can generally progress less because they work harder. Only does half their working life remain unremunerated, unrewarded, unrespected, unnoticed.
Unless it gets paid in blame and contempt: How often must a woman apologise that she is still not ready to go out – instead of reaping thanks for feeding people or pets or plants? How often must a woman justify herself for not gaining another qualification – instead of raking in praise for juggling two jobs already, one ‘at work’ and one ‘at home’?
Which man would be prepared to get disadvantaged for working more than the next man, and to get criticised for lack of achievement on top of it, and to get ridiculed for ‘moaning’ and ‘nagging’ when he claims equal rights?
As to voluntary work, political work, artistic work, for which society kindly allocates special quotas and grants to women: all this gets swallowed by a gulf of invisible chores. Women’s presence in public life goes literally down the drain when they wash the clothes, wash the dishes, wash the sinks.
The notion of a female arts prize is a mockery in a society that makes it technically impossible for a woman to even look at the contest, never mind take up a pencil to write or draw or compose. Urging a woman with no spare time to participate in the arts scene is like showing a destitute person cakes through the shop window.
There should be no gender quotas and no gendered awards: there should be equal access to the most precious resources of all, time and space and health. The ‘Room of one’s own’ which Virginia Woolf demanded generations ago for women writers has not materialised; for even if the space is there, it is no use without the time to dedicate to your own pursuits.
Woolf also claims education, liberty and independence for women, and since these are granted to many of us in the 21st century, we appear to be free to write or to follow any other dream. Our time and strength and health, however, are still eaten away stealthily by the incessant female labour of caring and chores – eaten away like a garment is by moths.
(to be continued)
Christina Egan © 2017
Photograph: Christina Egan © 2013.
Christina Egan by Christina Egan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.