When I was growing up, the idea of paying someone to clean the house or do yard work was unthinkable. This was due, mostly, to the fact that my family was pretty poor – it was a luxury we couldn’t afford. But, there was also a cultural or psychological element – my parents were both of the “why would you pay for something that you can do yourself?” mindset. In my father, this was attributable to his general fix-it philosophy – he’s a man who actually likes to tinker with things. My mother’s situation was more complex: Raised in a traditional Southern family – but not a wealthy one – she inherited the idea that a real woman should be able to keep her house spotless, her children clean and well-dressed, put a full meal on the table every night, and keep everyone happy. But, being a twentieth-century woman, she wasn’t allowed to pay anyone to help her – that was a sign of weakness. These untenable standards had the effect on my mother that they had on so many women: depression, sense of failure, resentment, etc. Despite the fact that I closely observed how she suffered trying to do everything herself, I still absorbed the idea that domestic help was an indulgence reserved for the rich and spoiled – not for the likes of me.
Recently I found myself talking with a group of other female faculty, representing many different departments and disciplines from across Unnamed U. Somehow the topic of housekeepers* came up – and suddenly all of these women began to admit (there is no better word for it) that they had housekeepers and were so grateful for their labor but also incredibly guilty. The conversation took on a distinctly confessional tone, as they reassured each other that it was perfectly okay, that they are professionals with many responsibilities and duties, that they can’t be expected to do it all, etc. It was a little awkward when I said that I don’t have a housekeeper – but it was quickly explained by the fact that I don’t have children – all of these professors are also mothers, which was a major plank in their explanatory discourse.
This is all to say that I’ve been thinking a lot about hiring someone to clean my house, but it’s a fraught issue for me.
On the one hand, I can muster a number of arguments against it:
The Marxist in me recoils at the very idea of participating in an exploitative practice in which I would use my economic privilege to have someone perform labor that I could totally do myself, but I just don’t want to do.
The new age-y/ yogic / Buddhist in me questions whether I am letting my possessions define me to the extent of paying someone else to take care of them – and instructs me to scale back my life if it has become that complicated and over-burdened.
The Feminist in me is practically not even speaking to me, because she knows that domestic labor is unfairly distributed not just on women, but on immigrant women or women of color, the working poor whose lack of opportunities are intrinsically linked to my own class and race privilege.
And, the completely shy and socially embarrassed part cannot imagine letting a stranger into my house to see my dirty, slovenly ways.
All really good reasons for NOT hiring a housekeeper.
On the other hand, I’ve become increasingly frustrated and impatient with cleaning my own house. It’s so time consuming that I usually do a shoddy job – just good enough to get by – so the house is rarely clean enough to invite anyone over, we generally don’t have guests over and, when we do, we have to do a marathon cleaning first. Meanwhile, Golden Boy and I snip at each other about the necessary duties, and get outright surly on the days we set aside to clean. (I should mention, for the record, that GB is really great about do his part – often picking up my slack when I’m particularly harried.)
The Marxist in me says: why not redistribute the wealth in a very direct and immediate way by hiring someone to do certain labor, but treating them with respect and paying them a living wage?
The new age-y/ yogic / Buddhist says: maybe you’d actually have time to do yoga if you didn’t feel obligated to make time to scoop cat boxes, do laundry, and other tasks everyday.
The Feminist says: You should not be enslaved to some oppressive ideal of womanhood that expects you to do it all and well. Admit to yourself that you have made certain lifestyle choices such as putting your career before other things, and one of the costs of that is that you cannot keep your house spotless. And, if you pay another woman well and treat her with respect, why shouldn’t she clean it for you?
The shy part of me says: Fuck it! Who cares? At least the kitchen floor will get mopped every once in a while.
As always, I am a divided subject.
So, I appeal to the wisdom of the interwebs – and particularly to you, professional women who are also caught in the family/work bind: Do you pay someone to clean your house? How do you explain the choice to yourself? Are you guilty about it? What do you recommend that I do?
* I’m not entirely sure what the appropriate terminology is — that’s how alien this whole thing is to me. Is it housekeeper, maid, domestic help, or something else? I dunno.
