Alissa Trotz is from Guyana and teaches Caribbean Studies and Women and Gender Studies at the University of Toronto. She edits In the Diaspora, a weekly column in the Stabroek News.
In the Caribbean as elsewhere, we’re pretty clear that housework is women’s work. A Caribbean-wide survey done in the 1980s found that women defined it as work, because it involved time, energy, and was essential. Yet we’ve managed not only to take this work for granted, but to assume that it is somehow women’s natural calling, and because it takes place in the home and is unpaid, it is therefore inferior and unimportant in the larger scheme of things.
This notion of women’s work and men’s work carries over into the kinds of paid jobs that people perform – think of domestic workers, nursery school teachers, secretaries, and chances are an image of a woman will automatically pop into your head in each instance. Ask yourself why. And studies have shown that the stigma associated with household work carries over into the paid labour force, with the consequence that women in jobs sex-typed as female work for less pay, under worse conditions than similarly qualified men and have less opportunities for advancement.
This does not mean that we are consigned to remain forever locked into these positions. Take the example of the security guard industry in Guyana in the 1990s, where women were overwhelmingly securing positions. ‘Guard work’ was still seen as a ‘man’s job’, and one firm even advertised openings for 80 men in the hope of deterring women applicants. However, there were more labour market options at the time for men, and the relative ease of entry combined with the salary levels attracted women, particularly those who were displaced from the public sector or found their salaries substantially eroded as a result of structural adjustment policies (you will find nurses, police officers, teachers working as security guards today).
While the presence of women showed that there was nothing naturally male about security guard work, it did not lead to an automatic breakdown of stereotypes. Employers agreed that women were reliable workers, but explained this by saying that their domestic responsibilities made it imperative for them to find and keep jobs (this does make one wonder why men’s responsibilities to their households should not similarly require job commitment). It was felt that women made good guards primarily because they had to be on constant guard themselves, the assumption being that women were watchful because they were vulnerable to sexual violation and being overpowered by criminals. However, admitting that women were good workers did not translate into higher positions. The scarcity of women among the senior ranks was attributed to women shying away from greater responsibility, and not being aggressive enough to cope with supervisory positions. One employer, asked about the lack of women in his armoured division (where in addition to salaries workers were given hourly cash incentives), even went as far as to claim that women were too hysterical to be trusted with guns (perhaps we should look at region wide statistics for wounding and homicide rates by guns – how many of the attacks have involved women as trigger pullers?).
Clearly it is not easy for women and men to move between positions, and stereotypes have proven themselves remarkably able to adapt to a changing situation. It is also true that men face particular kinds of challenges if they take on what is seen as women’s work. Their reluctance has to do not just with these roles being undervalued and stigmatized, but also the risk they run of being seen as ‘less of a man’. It will take a lot of work to shift these dynamics. Maybe the place to begin is with a conversation about the caring labour that takes place in our societies, beginning in our households. We should ask ourselves why, in a world where we can do without a lot of things that we seem to think are so important, do we place so little value on the one thing without which we cannot live, and which sustains us all, men, women and children? Seeing caring work as the foundation of healthy economies and societies should lead to the recognition that it is not just women’s work, but something we all have a stake in. Perhaps then we might be better able to tackle the kinds of stigmas that are attached to the work women do and that help to prevent men from seeing it as a joint responsibility, that lead to inequalities between women and men in the home and in the workplace, and that prevent us all from realizing our true potential beyond the burden of stereotypes.
This article is part of a knowledge-sharing initiative supported by the United Nations Development Fund for Women (UNIFEM).