Get Married and Take It Easy?

A student asked me if I ever wanted "to get married, stay home, and take it easy instead of go to work" when I was younger.

This is, in part, my reply to her question.

My mother did not learn to write a check until she was in her late 30s. I remember being with her at a local store when the pharmacist behind the counter explained that he would accept a check from her written on my father's account; I don't think she'd even known writing a check was a possibility. Like many other women of her generation, she was given a certain amount of cash every week as a household allowance and it was assumed that all expenses would be paid from that small, small fund.

Anything "extra" had to be asked for specially. I remember eavesdropping guiltily when the "extra" item was something I wanted: a new doll, a new dress, or money for the movies. My mother would do my pleading for me when I was a kid, and she and I waited, like members of some guerrilla force, to ambush my father when he was "in a good mood." My mother would instruct me to help prepare his favorite meal and be cheerful until he was sufficiently relaxed. Then we pounced, giving all the good reasons for this unplanned expenditure. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't: I grieved for months after being denied a pair of fringed go-go boots in fourth grade, which had seemed crucial to my emotional well-being. I won't say that I felt like Scarlett O'Hara lifting her fist to the sky and swearing, "With God as my witness -- I shall never be hungry again!" but I promised myself that when I grew up, I wouldn't have to play tricks to get them to buy me what I wanted.

My father worked hard -- 12 hours a day, six days a week sewing bedspreads and curtains with his brothers at the family shop -- and money was always more than tight. It had a stranglehold on us. But neither of my parents thought my mother should work. She was conflicted in the lessons she taught me, her youngest child and only daughter. I heard that I, too, should be a "feminine" woman who wasn't out there scrambling in the rat race, tough and wise-cracking with the men. But I also knew that she wished there had been a way for her talents and intelligence to be recognized, and for her to have more economic independence than her life allowed her. But since she'd left school in Quebec in the eighth grade and English was her second language, it wasn't as if she would be able to get an interesting job, or one that used her intelligence and her talents. Cleaning other people's houses wasn't going to be any more fun than cleaning our own.

I was scared by my mother's life. I never wanted to have to ask anybody to foot the bill for my rent, my food, my clothes, or my education. I put myself through college and graduate school, got scholarships at Dartmouth and CUNY and a fellowship at New Hall, Cambridge, but still racked up huge loans which I paid off only after I snagged good advances from multiple trade books. I wrote those books as I did the academic work, writing my first two books at the same time because the Wayne State would help get me tenure and the Viking one would help pay my bills. I have come to respect work for the psychological and emotional securities it provides which often overshadow the paycheck.

And I worry about women who think that, by marrying for money, they're not working for a living.

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Comments

1. kmellendorf - March 15, 2010 at 12:41 pm

In some ways this article speaks of pride. Pride can be wonderful or terrible, depending on how it is used. Pride in what you do, in what you accomplish, in what you give, can be a great benefit. It can give you a reason to continue. It can help you avoid giving up, knowing that what do is worth the effort. Pride in self, pride in status, can be do the opposite. It can easily lead to looking at what you deserve rather than what you earn. It can lead to being much more concerned with what people think of you rather than what you do.

Do not be ashamed of asking for help. Be proud that needing to ask for help will let you pass on this help to others without scaring them away. You can be of the highest status possible, and nobody will remember. You can give a little to somone that needs it, and many years later that little bit of help will give that person the support needed to make a difference that lasts forever. To need help is not a sorry state. To lack true self-sufficiency is not a bad thing. To feel so bad about yourself or your life that you cannot learn from it and grow from it is a sorry state.

2. katiebeautifulkatie - March 16, 2010 at 06:05 am

I appreciate these posts concerning your working class background. There aren't many academics or scholars who come from families where one of the parents did not graduate from high school. I myself share your general circumstances and am glad to know I'm not the only one whose dad didn't "prep" with the dean.

3. jmg06005 - March 16, 2010 at 12:27 pm

Each and every one of those girls that attend classes with the sole intent of getting an MRS degree has to take into consideration the consequences of living off of money you didn't earn. If you're lucky, you'll get badly hidden resentment on the part of your husband for spending his hard earned cheese. Worst case scenario, a staged intervention about your unhealthy spending habits. Who wants that hanging over your head? Nothing feels better than spending money you earned on something you want. It sure beats toodling around hearth and home.

4. fiorentina - March 22, 2010 at 09:45 am

Although I work full time with two small children, don't underestimate the men and women that do opt to stay home. They are working just as hard and in some cases harder than those of us who work outside the home. We are fortunate that in this day and age, some men and women can choose to have one parent stay home if that is what works best for their family.