The Value of Work

 Over a year since the first lockdown. Lots of comments on the news. We've been through a lot while staying put, haven't we? There were so many ideas during the time, especially at the beginning: about community spirit, self-improvement, learning to appreciate the little things, all noble and nice. But what have we learnt?

One of the things that was talked about a year ago was the value of home work. Something that is done in a rush, always inconvenient, offloaded to someone whenever possible or affordable. With all of us staying home, home work was not furloughed, quite the opposite, it multiplied.

I am a housewife. That is my official title. A yogini, writer, mother, sister, dog walker, photographer, knitter, artist - fancy words, but when it comes to the box ticking exercise, housewife it is. None of the things that fulfil me and make me happy bring in any income, therefore they are hobbies. I am not paid for the housework I do either. Therefore it doesn't count, it seems. But by doing it and by taking care of all the errands and child care duties I give husband the opportunity to do his job, travel, work at variable times. He supports the family. He is the person of value, he provides. What do I do?

Often, it seems like nothing. I was even introduced like that by dear husband when a new neighbour came over to meet us. 'Lucinda does nothing.' I was reminded about that old grudge of mine recently, just as we were listening to the news on the radio. They mentioned that women took on more of the housework and childcare during the lockdown. Husband commented: 'Well, more women than men were furloughed, so they weren't doing anything anyway.' Where do I start this argument, I thought to myself.

The work that goes into the creation of a home is invisible to half of the population, it seems. It is something that happens, gets done, is easy, even nothing. They only notice it when nobody is there to do it for them. Most of the work has to be planned, because for a home to run smoothly, you have to be on top of things. Shopping, cleaning, maintenance, repairs, cooking, laundry, bills, appointments, gardening..... everything has to be thought about in advance, and then it has to be done. Preferably properly, which means that nobody notices it actually happened. And therefore it becomes as invisible as a woman after her 35th birthday.

Ever since that comment, I remind husband that he is doing nothing and therefore he can do this or that. But the thing is, I don't want to do that. I don't want to keep telling him what needs to be done, why, how, when, and why I can't, or won't do it myself. It is easier to do it myself. Which he knows. And of course, he will just wait for me to do it. It is a stupid, endlessly repeated circle.

Nobody learnt the value of housework apart from the people who did it for the first time in years - professionals who could afford nannies, cleaners, dog walkers, and who supported many jobs in the same way husband supports my existence while I (apparently) daydream. The people who found themselves staying at home, working from home, and have met the second shift they forgot existed, were supposed to realize the value of house work. But did they?

I was bringing up our child with no help, there were no friends or relatives to turn to. Which was fine, we knew it would be so. But I still remember how we started the nursery after dear child was three years old. Fifteen hours a week - three morning, full day on Thursday, home on Friday. And many people asked me: 'What will you do now?' As if the time between drop off and pick up was an endless sea of work opportunities. When, true to be told, I just wanted to get the chores done without them being undone by a child crawling behind me... What can you 'do' in the small time given in the nursery year?

I admire people who started a business from the kitchen table, published a book, became influencers, studied and graduated, while having one child after another. And I salute all working mothers. But is it so bad to admit that I don't want to do laundry at ten at night, clean the house over the weekend, and shuffle child from school to club to friends for dinner, and work only to pay for the extra hours of care? When I had a baby, something I wasn't even sure would happen to me, I stayed with the baby. Because bringing up a baby takes time, so does recovery. Other issues slowed me down later, I am slowly picking up speed, but I can't remember the last day that felt free, truly free. Every day is dotted by small and big things that need to be done. The little, invisible, invaluable work. We will return to the new normal, the economy will pick up, I hope we will all do and be well. We will never forget the pandemic. But will we value the invisible jobs? Maybe when we start valuing carers, helpers, child minders, cleaners.... It will probably take a while.