THE RECENT Michael Arrington post on why women mustn’t blame men for their lower numbers in technology is eliciting reactions, fast and furious. While I don’t think Arrington’s tone helps, I am not going to get into the subject here. Instead, I’d like to refer you to Shefaly Yogendra’s excellent post, “Women in tech: What gives?”, where she puts forth many actionable ideas on what we can do to get more women into science and technology. [Read More]
LAST SUNDAY, we had a couple of close friends over for lunch. As it happens with close friends whom one has not met for a long time, it turned out as a long, rambling lunch where we were still sitting around at 5 o’clock. By the time they left, it was late evening, and somehow both Mr. B (the hubby) and I were feeling a little tired and coming down with headaches. Probably a result of the hectic, 6-day week we’d both worked and while Sunday had been fun, we hadn’t had any time to relax. And here were all the utensils still lying around, plates to be rinsed, delicate crockery to be put away. I got to it while Mr. B continued watching TV and then joined him, grumbling that he hadn’t helped me one little bit. I grumbled that I had to do it, I couldn’t possibly leave stuff lying around until the maid came in the next morning.
And that’s when he said, ‘You’ had to do it, I wouldn’t have, which got me thinking. What is it about housework that even the most liberated of us women continue to willing wear it around our necks like a millstone that we are proud of?
THE PRESSURE TO WRITE has been mounting. Guilt at not writing has been increasing steadily. But as a not-so-young mother of a small child, I am continually battling either illness of some sort or domestic issues which mean a series of chores! Add a demanding job to the mix. Sleepless nights, throbbing sciatic nerve, acidity — my physician gave me a wry smile and said classic symptoms of stress. Sometimes I am convinced that being feminist hasn’t helped. [Read More]
SOME DAYS AGO, at a function, a distant relative was gently ribbing me and my husband as to who was responsible for cooking at home. Specifically, he was taking a few shots at my expense, that I must be ‘making’ my husband do all the cooking. Most of this was inconsequential small talk; I doubt this relative really cares about who cooks at our place or whether we cook at all. I didn’t take it seriously or feel riled. Still, behind these jokes are some notions so ingrained that we have a hard time recognizing them. The joke exists because the notion exists that a woman must be an excellent cook, devoted to feeding her family. [Read More]
