(This post is written in response to another post by Teendoc, on the subject of a toy janitor/maid’s cart, available for $150 in the current FAO Schwarz catalogue. While the irony of a high-priced let’s-play-maid kit is not lost on me, I was taken aback by the level of distaste expressed in some of the comments.)
They empty our garbage; they change the bed linens of our incontinent parents; they clean our skid marks from hotel toilets.
The lowly menial workers. We depend on them to manage the less attractive aspects of our increasingly complicated lives and, as good liberals, we try to treat them with dignity. But God forbid our beloved kids should identify with them.
Truly, has there every been a generation of children more cherished, and more agonized over, than this one? A confession: I’m not a parent, so maybe I’m getting in over my head here. But I do have lots of friends who are parents (in many cases, after long emotional roller coasters with infertility clinics and adoption agencies), and they all worry so, so much: that their kids will get into a crappy preschool, for starters, which will lead to a mediocre elementary school, followed by a so-so high school and some second rate college nobody has heard of, all culminating in a thankless job in a dead-end industry.
It’s sad, I think, that things have gotten so cutthroat out there, we’re afraid to let kids idle away an afternoon playing hotel maid.
I have a degree from an elite law school. I’ve also cleaned houses for a living, for people who thought I was invisible, even though I had the same intelligence, the same hopes, the same feelings – the same humanity -- that they did. If a toy cleaning cart teaches a kid some humility, and maybe a little respect, what’s the big deal?
For years, I’ve had a habit of saying "I’d rather clean toilets at the airport than (fill in the blank)” Every day the list grows a little longer: manage a hedge fund, be the personal assistant to Sarah Palin, work for the Bush administration. Being on the fast track isn’t always everything it’s cracked up to be.
I still clean my own toilets, and floors and (every 20 years or so) oven. I like manual labor. It gives me a chance to think. And it is, in its own way, satisfying. I know, cleaning my own bathroom is not the same thing as scrubbing the urinal down at the local Chevron, but still I’m amazed how many people I know who think it’s beneath them to do even their own housework.
As the world has shown us these past couple of months, reversals of fortune can come at any moment. Cleaning hotel rooms, unthinkable?
There but for the grace of circumstance go you and I.
Happy Thanksgiving.
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I find the "elitist kids" trend disturbing to say the least - and it has less to do with money than attitude. One of Kai's favorite toys is his vacuum cleaner (that works!). Whenever he comes back from preschool and takes his shoes off, the sand from the playground is suddenly all over the carpet. He loves to run and get his vacuum to clean up his mess.
And I do share your tech-challenged world but make do too Laurel, not Lauren. Glad you're here even if you were Lauren not Laurel. ;)
Great post
rated
Rated for respect.
I think you misunderstood my post entirely and that makes me very, very sad. You saw me as being elitist and that was so far from where I was going.
My grandmother was a housemaid. My grandfather a laborer. I say this without shame but with pride. They had so little and did so very much. They came to this country in an attempt to give their children more...the usual immigrant dream. They taught us that we honor them by learning more, achieving more and giving back to those still trying to make it. I owe them debts that I will never be able to pay.
When my mother told my grandfather that she wanted to become a doctor, he found a way to make it happen, even when everyone else said that she should become a nurse or that he was wasting his money educating a daughter. Why? Because it would make him proud to see his daughter become one of the few black women physicians in 1963.
As I grew up, I kept being told that I was lying when I said that my mother was a doctor. Black women couldn't be doctors, I was told. And, well, there were limits to what I could grow up to do also, again, so I was told. My 3rd grade teacher said to my mother, "Well you may have gotten to be a doctor but your daughter is too stupid to amount to anything." And even when I went to my guidance counselor in 11th grade and told her that I wanted to apply to Yale or Princeton, she looked at me and said, "You want to go to Yale?!" as if I had told a funny joke.
My experience (and I can only speak from my point of view) as a person of color has been one where other people have expected little from me or have subtly or not so subtly tried to limit my strivings. Yet my family is who showed me that I should know no limits. This was not because I was better than anyone or was too good to do certain jobs. But because they encouraged me to reach as far as I could possibly go, despite those who might seek to hold me back. My family is why I have achieved what I have. Their support, their encouragement, their belief in my abilities was limitless.
But back to the housekeeping cart...you see, for you and for many, this is a simple toy that is of little import. Next week the child will have left the cart and moved on to butterfly collecting or digging holes in the garden. It is wonderful in its simplicity. But for this woman of color who is raising a child of color, the toy is a bit more complex. Not because it scares me, by any stretch. But because I am so vigilant about the messages (or potential messages) that my daughter receives about herself and where she stands in the world, just as my family was with me.
When I see little black kids still in 2006 choosing the white doll over the black one because the white one is better/prettier/more desirable, my heart breaks. So I know that I have to be vigilant about getting her dolls of all hues and helping her to see that dark skin and nappy hair is just as beautiful as the images she sees on TV and in magazines. And when I saw my black and brown teen patients deciding to limit their career and educational goals, I pushed them to reach for more than they had imagined, not because their goals were bad, but because we should not limit ourselves for reasons of race and class. For this reason, I could not buy my child this housekeeping cart. Even if she is unaware of it, I do not want to message to her that this "lets pretend" item is where mommy and daddy see her dreams reaching one day.
Any gainful employment is worthy of respect. I treat everyone with respect because, close to what you said above, there but for the grace of God go I. I am not better than another but I am also not less than another. (Though I've been put in the less than place many, many times.) In my family, we do whatever is necessary to put food on the table, keep a roof over our heads, and educate our children. So if I or my daughter ends up cleaning toilets or washing floors to put food on the table, we will do it proudly. But this does not mean that I will buy her a let's pretend housekeeping cart set. My let's pretend fulfillment as her mom will be with items that encourage her dreams and passions. That is what is most important to me.
Happy Thanksgiving to you as well.
I counseled at risk teens about employment and would celebrate with them when they got that minimum wage job because I knew--more than my lectures--they would learn how little money these jobs provided. Oregon's minimum wage(highest in the nation) is a whole $2.50 an hour less than a "living wage" and will still qualify you for food stamps. These students would then listen to my speil about short-term training programs and other training opportunities.
Expections in a child's environment mean so much and do such damage to a child's idea of who they are and what they can dream.
UK's comment was priceless. Out of the mouths of children...
I've just been on a plane for 12 hours so forgive me if I'm a little incoherent. You are one of my favorite OS bloggers, so I hope we can work this out! Believe it or not, I didn't focus on the race issue -- I was thinking more in terms of class and I momentarily glossed over the fact that you are African-American -- don't know if that's a measure of enlightenment or insensitivity on my part, but after reading your response, I'd say the later.
But hear me out. You and I have a lot more in common than you might think. I was the first person in my family to attend college, too, and my relatives have had their share of humble jobs. My dad worked in a Chevy plant for 35 years and my brother was a sanitation worker for the city of Detroit; he's now retired on disability from a shoulder injury. My mom never finished high school and worked in a paint store. This, of course, says nothing about the kind of people they are. All three happen to be smart, complex, funny, well-read, interesting individuals. I never even knew we were a household full of underachievers until I entered law school and met all these ivy league educated kids, many from upper income families. I was never as driven to succeed as they seemed to be, nor as you clearly are. In my life, I've always felt torn between the two worlds, the striving and the simple, a reality that's reflected in the glaring gaps in my resume. I've always felt a little homesick among highly successful people, many of whom, in my experience, really don't "get" regular folks.
For me, a toy maid's cart is a harmless tip of the hat to those behind-the-scenes people who are too easily overlooked; for you, it's a bitter reminder of a painful past. I do appreciate where you're coming from. But I hope you can see my side of things, too.
LnL
My problem with the toy was the price tag.
Some toys do become 'beloved' toys, but most toys get played with for about five minutes or so, and then left behind. My own child often ignores her toys, to my amusement, and plays with the lid top from one of her bottles.
That's too much money to pay for anything like that, and the irony is that the toy is probably a week's paycheck for some people, and some of those people have that very honorable, but often low paying job.
I do understand your perspective and I tried to express that in a section of my long-winded reply (it probably got lost in my spate of words). And I was so fearful before writing my post that my feelings about the cart could or would be construed as classist/elitist when it was actually triggering a different reaction in me. Sure there was the obvious irony of a $150 kids' maids' cart playset being sold at FAO Schwarz, but beyond that, the idea of that cart for my daughter jangled on a deeper level. It just took me a little while longer to move from "this feels wrong" to "here's why this feels wrong to me."
I've been composing a follow-up post (so far, just in my head) about what I've learned from reading the comments here and on my other blogs. In a nutshell it seems that people fall into two broad groupings: those for whom a toy is just a toy and those who see certain toys as conveying messages/expectations. But there is no right or wrong here in these viewpoints. Just different perspectives that work for each individual. And for me that is perfectly fine.
We're cool, my friend!
I really wanted to express myself in an essay, something less casual than a comment, and I felt funny about plunking it down on somebody's else's post, particularly when I was in disagreement. This is a topic I obviously feel strongly about -- and I figured people could easily surf back and forth between posts. No disrespect intended. Besides, I think these spin-offs are part of what make OS such a stimulating place to visit!
Teendoc, just as toy maid carts are a hot button with you, trailer trash jokes are a hot button with me, and they're all too popular with progressives. My first published op-ed was called "Don't Trash the Trailer People," responding to a wise-ass comment from James Carville back in the Paula Jones days. Many of my relatives back in Michigan live in trailers and every year we hold our annual Christmas party in a trailer park clubhouse -- these are wonderful folks and I will not have them dissed!
Did anybody see Eight Mile, the film about white rapper Eminem? It moved me to tears, which was a real shock, since rap music is not my thing. But it's a great riff on the complicated relationship between African Americans and poor white people, and it explores the issue of whether class, not race, is the true cultural dividing line in this country (Eminem gets into a rapping contest with a black guy who secretly attends Cranbrook Academy, an elite prep school in Bloomfield Hills, Mich).
O'Stephanie -- thoughtful remarks as always but, damn, I miss the days of more casual parenting!
Gracielou, your guy sounds a lot like mine.
Everyone -- wouldn't those cynics over in the FAO Schwarz marketing department be stunned by the torrent of opinion their little product has unleashed?
For some reason, I have lost the ability to send OS messages from my main computer, so I do I have a reply to your message that I am trying to send to you.
But I will say that Lainey expressed something that bothered me as well. I had no idea that you felt so strongly about what I had written. There had been nothing expressed in my comments and thus no opportunity for dialogue and clarification. It seemed like when others had created response posts (and I am new here so I have limited information) it was after a frustrated dialogue in the original post. So I did feel a little blindsided. Yet I know that my response is not truly the relevant one. Clearly your feelings here were so triggering that creating this entry felt like the most appropriate thing to do.
But my ethos is always about being authentic and honest about myself and my feelings. I will clarify my position and be respectful of yours. If we don't agree, so be it. I am happy to agree to disagree.
But back to my comments, I don't think anyone was being dismissive of maids or janitors. I think some just felt the messaging of this toy (and based on my previous comment, I sense that you are in the toy is just a toy grouping) was not one they wanted to give to their kids. Again their right, but I did not see it based on classism. My paranoia meter is pretty good for sussing out race and class issues. :-)
Gotta run. The kidlet beckons!
I too tried to email you but it did not send altho I can send to others. Email Kerry and let him know that your email is not working for incoming mail. It has been my exeperience that he will send a helpful techie elf to help you!
It is not considered impolite (or uncivil) to disagree with someone in a comment on their post. What I have seen are post-length comments that would have been better as separate posts. Always good to disagree on their post briefly then post on it if you like.
Hope you had a great Turkey day!