Stir it up in the kitchen: Gender inequalities
It's not often I get emotional about a report from the Economic and Social Research Institute (ESRI) and the Equality Authority. And yes, I know the saying, "There are lies, damned lies and statistics". But this takes the biscuit.
According to the experts at the research institute, women spend two-and-a-half hours on housework per day compared to men's one hour and 15 minutes. Overall, women spend 39 minutes more per day working than men do. Really? Most women I know who have families spend a damned sight more than two-and-a-half hours on housework per day, and I can count on one hand -- with three fingers left over -- the number of men I know who spend an hour or more engaged in similar activities.
When I asked some men how they thought the respondents arrived at such an impressive 75 minutes spent on housework each day, they laughed and replied, "Think of a number, double it and then add on a bit more for good measure". Even doing that, the Irish men are still at the bottom of the European league table when it comes to helping out at home.
Surprise, surprise, according to the Chief Executive of the Equality Agency, Niall Crowley: "This report identifies gender inequalities in the domestic sphere that significantly disadvantage women and that pose a challenge to men." Don't you just love that last phrase: "Pose a challenge to men"? Well, in a post-feminist world I guess it is a bit of a challenge ensuring that the chips stay firmly stacked in favour of the boys.
I'm not sure how much money was spent researching this report, but results like "the data shows that Ireland has a relatively traditional division of labour" and "parenthood means people are forced to reallocate their time, with women spending much more time on caring for children", aren't exactly ground- breaking, just depressing.
I read most of the report when it came out last week, and listened to the various reactions to it voiced by citizens on national radio. What surprised me most was how defeatist and accepting of such gross inequality the majority of women were. And as is typical in the land of the martyred Irish Mammy, many of these women blamed themselves. That's when I started to get emotional -- and mad. Very, very mad. Because, of course, I'm guilty as charged along with all those other Irish Mammies.
I do the lion's share of the housework. I gave up most of my work and academic study so I could care for my home, husband and children. It was that or the looney bin, a nasty divorce and delinquent kids. I took the "easy" option and acquiesced in the great gender divide, along with most other women I know. But that doesn't mean I have to pretend to like it. Or that I can't rebel once in a while. I do all of the cooking in our traditionally gendered home. My other half can't/ won't boil an egg. (But to be fair he does take the bin out, empty the dishwasher and sweep the floor occasionally. If he takes three 15-minute breaks between these activities, it adds up to 75 minutes of housework per day).
Aware of my beloved's complete lack of interest in all things gastronomical, local celebrity cook Andrew Rudd invited him to a cookery demonstration, to be followed by a four-course dinner, in the hope that he may pick up some tips. Beloved declined. He doesn't need to learn to cook; he has a wife and a telephone. So I rebelled and went in his stead. Not only that, but I didn't cook a dinner before I left. OK, it may not seem like much of a rebellion, but I still felt terribly guilty as I headed for the door and my children asked, "Mummy, what's for dinner? We're starving".
"No idea darlings, ask your father," was my bold response. "Hooray," said the eldest, "that means Chinese takeout."
When I got married, at first I had great intentions of instituting a regime that would entail an equal division of domestic labour. And it worked out quite well for a time. I would cook, he would wash up (we didn't have a dishwasher then), and we did our own washing and ironing. The trouble started when the children arrived. I found myself naturally cast in the role of child minder/cook/ cleaner/shopper while beloved decided that -- as he now had a family to feed -- he had to spend more time earning hard cash in order to provide for us.
The ESRI report confirms that we're not the only ones who found ourselves in this position. Dr Frances McGinnity of the ESRI said: "On average, fathers do more paid work than other men, and mothers spend more time doing unpaid work than other women."
By the time I came up for air and realised what a stereotype I had become, his earning power had exceeded mine, so when it came to a discussion about who should relinquish their career in order to ensure we had a well-oiled household, with kids who didn't end up in the Joy, I didn't have a leg to stand on. Money talks -- and he who earns, rules.
When the ESRI report was launched last week, Mr Crowley said: "Public policy needs to be more supportive of those who dedicate large amounts of their time to unpaid work in the home."
A laudable ideal, but certainly not one that is supported by Irish society. We have made it very plain (particularly in our opposition to the Lisbon treaty) that anything which may involve greater taxation is anathema to the majority of citizens on this island. And without more taxes it will be impossible to institute the changes needed to ensure a fairer society from above such as paid paternity leave, subsidised crèche care and an increase in the Children's Allowance. So we will have to do it ourselves. Most of today's parents grew up in traditional Irish homes with a stay-at-home mother and a working dad. Children tend to replicate what they see in their youth. So, today's mothers need to make sure they teach their sons to cook, clean and care for themselves and their daughters to tolerate messy kitchens and Chinese takeouts. Only then can the entrenched dynamic of gender inequality be challenged.
It may be too late for my own generation of stressed-out, double-jobbing mothers but there must be some truth to the old saying about the hand that rocks the cradle. Once again, the buck stops with Mammy.
If you'd like to get your husband/son/significant other to cookery classes, contact Andrew at sales@gourmetfood.ie. Good luck.
Carol Hunt
22 June 2008
http://www.independent.ie/opinion/analysis/lets-go-stir-it-up-in-that-kitchen-ladies-1418312.html
