Thursday, February 23, 2012

Everybody works but father

“What does your dad do?”

“My dad? Uh, he’s a lecturer,” I looked down at my feet, which were making patterns in the playground’s sandy grit.



“Oh, what subject does he teach?”

“Language,” I muttered, gritting my teeth. I knew what was coming next.

“Interesting. Where?”

“Well,” I was thinking fast about how I could change the topic, “He doesn’t teach anywhere as of now…”

For as long as I can remember, that was the one reply I had for that seemingly harmless “where does your dad work” question. I was beginning to give up hope that my answer would ever change.

“Uh, no, he doesn’t work right now.”

It did come up more often back then in high school, when I was in the process of interacting and developing a social identity.

And it wasn’t a pleasant question.

“Oh, he’s a lecturer. Hey, I love your shoes! Where did you get those from?”


Dad had a history of being constantly in and out of jobs. Six months here, two months there, yearlong gaps in between. Looking back now, I think I can pin the inconsistency on spikes in he-cession.



Nonetheless, it was to transform my societal outlook forever.

That was the time that saw my dear mother become "Mrs. Dad" when circumstances made her take over as the family breadwinner. She worked round the clock—7:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. at her workplace, then longer hours back home.

My dad?

That is the funniest part.



His shift would begin everyday at around the same time, lasting the same number of hours.

Only, he would make breakfast, sweep and mop, tidy rooms and prepare lunch. I think he could have related very well to the following review from the 1983 comedy drama film, Mr. Mom:

“Jack soon finds himself overwhelmed with laundry, cooking, cleaning and other household chores. He is frustrated with the never ending menial tasks. His only social contracts around the house are his children and though he tries to engage them in work, he is often left feeling frustrated and alone. Jack shouts at his wife, ‘My brain is like oatmeal. I yelled at Kenny today for coloring outside the lines! Megan and I are watching the same TV shows and I’m liking them! I’m loosing it.’”

Only, I must say, life wasn’t all that rough. Mom and dad adapted to the bizarre responsibility transverse. I did too.

Before long, I had spent 12 years living in this role reversal. Although the family responsibilities clearly appeared uncomfortably topsy turvy to me…..well, I was okay. It was just the way my family worked—dad cooked and cleaned, mom brought in the money. I was habituated.

Yet when that question was asked, I would always be “thinking fast about how I could change the topic.” One more time, I used to brood, and I’m going to snap. “No, my dad doesn’t work for god sakes!! Only mom does. But you what? That is okay with me! Because they have managed to make it work so well…”

Come to think of it, although it was always okay with me, I knew, even as a fifth grader, that it would never be so with society.

Society.



That rigid structure of standards and values everyone wishes to be a well- integrated part of.

If you function out of norms, you are the odd one out.

For all those years before my father finally got a steady job, my family and me-- despite being financially well off-- were the odd-ones-out.

That is how society is fundamentally structured. The male and female spheres of responsibilities have been laid out quite distinctly, almost as a stringent law of nature that has to be respected and abided by. The man pays the bills; the woman takes care of the children. She can have a career, which is becoming increasingly common these days, but home and hearth still remain the top priority.


Although this concept is increasingly changing in today’s fast-paced, modernizing society, an absolute gendered division of labor in the private realm is still a difficult idea to digest.

“I just think that’s absurd,” said sociology professor Geoff Harkness, and I couldn’t agree more. What’s wrong so long as a family manages to function?

But modern society is yet to catch up with the notion. I think we were a family at the wrong place at the wrong time. Hopefully, a few years from now, society will be much more receptive to the idea.



Oh and dad, if you are reading this, I just want you to know that you make the best pea and potato soup ever.

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