We were at my husband’s high school reunion. It’s been twenty years since he made headlines in the local newspaper for wearing sunglasses while giving his commencement speech.
My name tag read Mary [Not My Legal Last Name Because I Felt Strongly About Keeping My Maiden Name]. I smiled blandly at lots of people that I didn’t know and had heard hardly anything about. I shook hands and laughed politely at little jokes. And then it happened.
“So,” she said, “What do you do?”
It’s such an innocuous question. Much like, “How’s it going?” Most times, you don’t expect the respondent to launch into their life story, give you a detailed medical history, or share their actual feelings. What you expect is for the person to say: “Just fine. How are you?”
It’s classic small talk. The response to the question “What do you do?” is to simply give the person the label you’ve accepted and then ask them for their label.
But I didn’t know what to say.
The label I have accepted is not recognized as vernacular much less is it a vocabulary word.
I’m in the midst of a full-blown identity crisis. Dropping the word “Career” from “Woman” has been a daunting adjustment.
A little self-indulgent, self-analysis here … this blog is, for me, like therapy without the group. Writing helps me clarify my thoughts and when I post an excerpt from my life I am instantly gratified with the sense of having accomplished something, however small. It’s as though I’m pretending that raising my kids isn’t gratifying enough, that being entrusted with their lives isn’t responsibility enough, that shaping their characters isn’t the greatest challenge I have ever faced.
It’s as though I am trying to preserve some part of myself under the guise of chronicling my kids’ lives. How very humbling that is to see that in print.
“I, uh, I,” I stammered. “Actually, I, uh, just left my job…” and my words were trampled by someone else who thankfully interrupted our exchange to squeal over how much so-and-so had changed and how good it was to see her.
I felt ashamed of myself. Why didn’t I feel proud about my choice? For the rest of the evening I managed to avoid small talk in this direction and thought about ways that I should have responded when prompted.
Next time someone asks that question I’m going to tell them: “I’m on a semi-permanent sabbatical from my job so that I can try to enjoy the kids I chose to produce.”
Yeah. I’m still working on it.
5 comments
Comments feed for this article
July 14, 2009 at 11:34 pm
amy b.
Such a common dilemma. I talk to my husband about it he doesn’t get the problem. He says keeps telling me that I do plenty. I know that. He says to say “I do all the things that working people have to pay people to do.” I told him that that just seems like it would offend and like I am defensive about my choice. Him…”so they ask what do you do and you say for money? and they say yeah for money and then you say my husband makes the money and I take care of every thing else.” But I point out that I don’t take care of everything else just tonight I asked him to fix the printer. Then he suggests “just ask the question back at them. What do you mean what do I do? on the weekends? for fun? in my spare time? after I go pee? I flush… simple.” he says. Not simple.
July 15, 2009 at 8:25 pm
Shauna
Your blogs are amazing. Thanks for sharing!
July 17, 2009 at 9:17 am
Mary
I wish I could feel the way your husband does about it. It does seem as if it should be simple. Only…it isn’t! A friend of mine put another perspective on it — in short, she said not to worry about it because unless you’re talking to someone with a really interesting job (like an astronaut–and what are the chances of that?) you really don’t want to hear what their response is to the question “What do you do?” and vice versa!
July 22, 2009 at 1:45 pm
Bridget C
You say, “I was lucky enough to be able to quit my job to raise my kids.” Trust me, as a working outside of the home mom I would hear the “lucky enough” part and be jealous. Because really, that is the truth. I am simultaneously jealous and in awe of my SAHM friends, jealous bc I wish I could do the same, and in awe because generally after about 3 days of vacation I’m wondering if it would make me a bad parent to send the kids back to daycare while I take the rest of the time to myself…. I think the whole working mom/stay at home mom thing is over-played, honestly. I think SAHM’s think the “working” moms look down on them, and I think we working moms think the SAHM’s look down on us…when in reality we just want the other to think our choice is ok. And either choice IS ok. It’s like choosing to like Coke vs Pepsi, it’s a personal preference and in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as you love your kids and family and are happy with what you chose. And, if all else fails, if anyone makes you feel like you are less than them for staying home realize they are probably not very happy with their choice…or, if they are, and they have THAT high-powered of a career odds are their kids are missing a lot of time with them. Hope that helps! But, then again, I’m not exactly super feminist…so maybe I’m all wet! 🙂
July 22, 2009 at 10:51 pm
Mary
Thank you for your comment! I think it is all about choices and being comfortable with your own. What’s hard for me to wrap my mind around is that I didn’t want to have to choose. I wanted my cake and to eat it too. I wanted to be balls to the wall at work but also totally present with the kids. And my reality was that I was putting more of myself into my job than I was putting into my family. Around the time that I realized this, I also realized that it was my own fault. I could have kept working and just invested less of myself but I didn’t want to do that. So, I leaped off the ladder. As yet, I haven’t landed. 😉 Hope you’ll keep oinking with me!