It's been a bit of a drought between drinks on this blog - my apologies! I've had a lot of ideas about blog posts but as fatigue sets in motivations wanes! The last couple of weeks have been pretty busy, lots of work to do and lots of preparation for Christmas by way of madly sewing and crafting the hours in between.
I have been thinking a lot lately about the value of people - and I'm not talking about humanity as a whole but more about individual people. As a child, in my teens and early 20's I tended to think about people in terms of what THEY could do for ME. Birthdays were measured in terms of gifts, Christmas was measured in terms of presents under the tree, relationships were at times transactional. I was keenly aware of this in my 20's and vowed to change that mindset because I knew where it came from: it was taught to me by my father from the earliest of ages. My father only EVER saw relationships in terms of how they would benefit him, and as soon as that relationship didn't benefit him anymore the relationship was severed. It was the reason why we spent my entire childhood see sawing between being close with my grandparents and being estranged. It was also why at the age of 19 my father cut all ties with me - I wasn't useful anymore. I had asserted my independence and wanted to do my own thing. I wasn't under his control anymore, and so I was cut off.
As I've gotten older, I've come to accept within myself that my value does not lie in what I DO for others, and the value of others is not what they do for me. My evaluation of others 100% was wrapped up in my evaluation of myself - if I couldn't benefit others, I was no good. I was only having a good day if people were happy with me. If people weren't happy with me, my world fell apart. It was a horrible way to live and it's one of the many reasons why I would NEVER go back to being 20 again unless I could take all of the growth I'd made in my 30's with me. If I could go back with what I know now, I'd do things very differently, starting with the way I treated and valued myself as a member of the human race.
These thoughts got brought up again for me last week when I got called by an employment recruiter. I'd put in my resume for a Social Worker job with an NGO delivering therapy to young people and their families, and she was asking me questions about my history, my education, my life circumstances etc. And then the question came, "I know this is probably a personal question, and you don't have to answer, but do you have children?" It came before I could censor my response, or even really think about what to say so I blurted out "no, I don't". She then went on to say that she thought if I had children it would 'bolster' my application with the employer.
It wasn't until after I got off the phone that I got angry. Not that it's the first time that the pro-natalist nature of our world has been brought home to me, but this really hit me in a new way. I've only just completed my masters in Social Work and I'd desperately love to work in children and family therapy. I'm not experienced in counselling but I have a LOT of education around it, and with a child protection background it's what I'm passionate about and it's what makes sense to me. The notion that I have to be a parent before I can deliver such services seems laughable to me, yet here it was in front of me - do you have kids?
I know I don't have to wax lyrical about why this theory about 'bolstering' my application is ridiculous - does an oncologist have to have had cancer to be a good oncologist? Does a Child Protection caseworker have to have had their children removed (or have been removed as a child) to do their job? I would argue the opposite - not having had personal experience in some fields actually affords a layer of objectivity that is very much required, and in human services any lived experience can be a double edged sword, requiring close and constant oversight and management. I've had caseworker colleagues who have given the game away after having children specifically because every time they had to intervene for a child at risk they would see their own child and that level of recognition became too much.
Then there's all of the other considerations: maternity leave, child care commitments, schooling commitments, school holiday leave, etc etc - people who don't have children have many advantages to offer most workplaces. Mothers have long argued that they have been discriminated against FOR having children, but there's very little thought given to what those WITHOUT children contribute. We pick up the slack when parents have child care responsibilities. We are at work during school holidays, while parents take their children off on adventures. I purposefully DON'T take my holidays during school holidays, partially for my own convenience but also to allow my colleagues that time and opportunity to make memories with their kids. But that doesn't mean that our time is less valuable, despite the fact that it is often seen that way. I've had to argue that on many a Friday afternoon when the proposed 'working back late' shift was tossed in my direction because I don't have children - and I've batted it back every time, arguing that my free time is just as valuable as anyone else's and if that's the reason you wanna shove work on me then you can forget it.
But this idea that my experiences are somehow less than because I don't have kids - well there's not much I can do about that is there? My chromosomes are what they are. I'm powerless to argue that point any more than someone without cancer can argue the point that they should be an oncologist anyway.
It also flies in the face of the idea that people are valuable because they just ARE. And I know that I am. I have plenty to offer, just as much because I don't have kids as I would if I did. One doesn't equate the other. There are no conditions upon my value, or anyone else's for that matter. The people I choose to spend my time with are valuable because they just ARE. I love who they are as people, I love to spend time stepping into their world, hearing their perspectives. They contribute simply by being, and so do I.
I haven't heard a word from that recruiter since, and I'm glad. I don't know whether the employer themselves would see me as less valuable for not having squeezed another human being out of my vagina, but if they did then that's not a workplace I'd want to be a part of anyways. I am only just starting to truly appreciate my worth, and ironically it's only been in considering my own intrinsic worth that I have come appreciate the worth of those around me. This $10 note may be crumpled, but my value remains intact!
