For some reason it has been a tiring week. Not only did I have a lot on my plate, but it feels like family, work, relationships, politics, friends, and social obligations have all somehow been involved. I contain multitudes, and all of us are tired this week! I am looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow, and to an afternoon nap with my pups. Wishing you a restorative weekend as well!
My dad is back home after dealing with some medical issues, and I wanted to make his apartment a bit cheerier as well as better equipped to handle his mobility accommodations. Enter: the budget-friendly apartment refresh! I thought an upholstered headboard would be more comfortable than his old wood one, for starters. A new bedside lamp made things feel cozy, as did a bit of (faux) greenery and a tasseled throw for the bed. I also added a sweet macrame basket — it was just right to wrangle coils of oxygen tubing, and the soft cotton won’t scratch or snag the tubes like wicker could. A new lower media console helped to open up the space and make it feel bigger. And lastly, I hung up a cork board to help him corral doctor appointment reminders, stray sheets of stamps, and important phone numbers. My dad seemed happy with his fresh space, and I was incredibly gratified that I could help with his transition back home. Success!
While I decided long ago that having children was not for me, I will always be awed and grateful for my mom and all she does. Not only is she one of the most selfless women I know, but it takes a special kind of bravery to reinvent oneself, to work on one’s flaws, and to examine one’s life and say, “I want something better.” I wrote this poem for my mother a while ago and wanted to share it here, in the spirit of spring and of celebrating nurturing women everywhere.
This past weekend I had a lot on my plate. All good things, either enjoyable or necessary or both, but an introvert like me sometimes just needs a bit of uninterrupted time to recharge. I finally decided to give myself half a day off, which did me a world of good — I napped, had pasta for dinner, and read. And oh, did I read.
I read Maggie Nelson’s Bluets on the couch that evening. I loved it. I’m not even sure how to describe it. Non-fiction. Numbered snippets about the color blue, simultaneously about and not about a breakup, entirely raw and honest and contemplative. Hundreds of small poems in the form of lyric prose. A three-year meditation on color and loss and suffering and limits. I haven’t felt the desire to pick up a pencil and mark up a book in a long, long time, but passage after passage spoke to me. It felt good to read and feel understood and hold that book and pencil in a lamp-lit room on my green velvet couch, with my favorite candle burning. Yearning, and desire, fucking (she does not mince about), philosophy, musings — it is the kind of book I would want to write, the kind I feel like I could write, and I say that with an utter lack of hubris, but rather in the sense of finding a longed-for kindred voice.
Bluets was an outstanding read, bursting with emotion in a quiet, intense, meditative state all it’s own. This is a slim tome I will be returning to again and again, like an old friend, or perhaps something even better: a sense of being understood.
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“Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.”
–Maya Angelou
I’ve got an intense case of wanderlust. Photos of faraway places have me itching to plan a trip somewhere — Portugal, Cambodia, Seattle, Uruguay, Kenya, Vancouver! Somewhere new I can discover! I also got to see a few people that are very dear to me this week, leaving me with a deep appreciation for some of my closest friends. Somehow my general concern for the state of the world combined with my feelings this week are encompassed in this wise quote by Maya Angelou. Happy Friday, friends!
Claire Cain Miller’s article on our failure to find value in work performed by women has been on my mind lately, even two years after it was originally published. Why is it that we fail to find women — and by extension, the work that they do — valuable? Just think about the rhetoric involved: in discussing breast cancer, we’re encouraged to “save the tatas.” That’s cute and all, but what about the women attached to those breasts? And consider discussions around sexual assault: we hear appeals from men who try to frame their perspective as uniquely feminist, because they are “fathers of daughters.” Men are asked to think of how they’d feel “if it was their sister.” What about thinking of women simply as people? As human beings? As individuals who have the right to safety and respect in and of themselves, regardless of if or how they are related to men? In the same way that a woman seems to only be valuable in the ways she is related to or benefits a man, work done by women is similarly undervalued.
The “pay gap” women experience is well-documented. As of 2017, women earn a median 81.8% of what men do. And we should be careful to acknowledge that many women experience that pay gap much more deeply than others: median earnings for black women was only 67.7%, and Hispanic women a mere 62.2% of what white men earn. And even though there has been increased awareness of this issue, progress towards equality has made only small strides at best.
Research has shown that there is a great deal more to the pay gap between women and men than women being paid less for equal roles and work. In fact, it has been shown that work and professions considered “feminine” are, in fact, valued less in our society.
“…there was substantial evidence that employers placed a lower value on work done by women. It’s not that women are always picking lesser things in terms of skill and importance… [it’s] just that the employers are deciding to pay it less.”
“Computer programming, for instance, used to be a relatively menial role done by women. But when male programmers began to outnumber female ones, the job began paying more and gained prestige.”
Similarly, doctors in the U.S. are among the highest paid professions, but in Russia, where it is considered “women’s work,” doctors and other medical professionals are among the lowest paid professions. While there is an overabundance of doctors in the workforce, I think it is clear that does not entirely account for the dismally low wages. The majority of doctors are women, so therefore the work must not be valuable.
“…even though they require about the same amount of training as the American doctor… medical practice is stereotyped as a caring vocation ‘naturally suited‘ to women, [which puts it at] a second-class level in the Soviet psyche.”
As far as personal experience, I work at a heritage institution. I often do similar coding work as other information technology professionals. But you’d better believe that coding work done under the more “feminine” title of librarian gets a lot less pay — and regard — than a programmer or data engineer.
The patriarchal structure of our society has brought us to a staggering place: women’s work is not valued because women are seen to have little value. When laid bare this way, it is hard not to be shocked. So how can we change? It is a complex and multilayered issue, one that clearly cannot be solved in a day. Perceptions need to change. Privileges need to be recognized and acknowledged. And perhaps the more we are aware, the more we can push back against what has become the status quo.
As if it wasn’t hard enough to get out of the store with out purchasing EXTRA STUFF, Target has been killing it with their home decor lately. Between their Project 62 and new Opalhouse lines, I can’t get enough. After mulling over wallpaper options here, I finally decided to go with the pretty floral with birds, above. Paired with a new tasseled bathmat and some greenery, our bathroom is looking 100% better. And candle snuffer, where have you been all my life? We may or may not have a couple new pillows in the living room, too, because give me all the pillows.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about disquiet, and about contentment and happiness. As we step forward into the week, here is a poem I wrote some time ago, compact in size but broad in scope. Some thoughts to ponder.
One week ago, I tried a new cake recipe for a Friday night dinner with friends. Spoiler alert: it is amazing and I will be making this one again and again. Behold: Maialino’s Olive Oil Cake. I served it topped with dollops of the strawberry black pepper jam I made several weeks ago, and it was perfection. Not too sweet, perfectly moist, easily mixed, and the most delightful hint of citrus. Make it for yourself or someone you love this weekend — you won’t be sorry! Sharing is entirely optional.