I’ve loved Stephanie Land‘s writing on poverty and single motherhood for several years now, so it’s no surprise that I think MAID is fantastic. But what did surprise me as I read her insightful, gripping memoir is how much it made me think about my own role as a working mom who relies heavily on others for domestic help. I have a nanny and a weekly house cleaner, both of whom we adore. I also grew up with working mothers who hired house cleaners. I’m not sharing any of this to brag, just to acknowledge how long I’ve been on this side of the arrangement.
Every week, the morning before our house cleaner arrives, I spend at least an hour picking up the house; getting dirty dishes out of the sink, dirty clothes off the floor, clumps of hair out of the shower drain. I can remember my mother and step-mother doing the same when I was growing up. And every so often, other people (let’s call them “men”) roll their eyes about “cleaning up for the cleaning lady.” Women feel like we should apologize for this, as if it proves we’re neurotic and just more particular about domestic stuff, so of course we should handle it all.
Reading how often Land had to pick her way through used tissues, old medications and other disgusting personal detritus, it made me realize I haven’t always been neurotic enough. That if we’re going to ask people to deal with the dirt of our lives, it’s appropriate and important to draw some boundaries around that job. To treat them with respect and also to be humans who pick up after ourselves and teach our kids to do the same. MAID made me realize that we have to value domestic work more—which of course we aren’t precisely because it’s still largely women’s work. For anything big to change here, we need men—yes, all men—to do more at home.
In the meantime, if you’re privileged enough to employ a cleaning person, pay them well, pick up your own underwear and read MAID. It may make you uncomfortable. That’s how we’ll all do better. Thank you, Stephanie Land, for starting this conversation.
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