It was a spring day in 1997, and I was sitting at the dining room table in my sorority house, having lunch with about ten sisters. Several of us had come from a history class, and the conversation had spilled over. I don’t remember exactly how we got there, but I very vividly remember the sister who stated, “You can’t be a feminist if you don’t work outside of the home.”
I had a visceral reaction to this statement. I knew right away that I didn’t agree with it, but I was watching as almost everyone around me nodded their heads in agreement or made statements of affirmation. Lunch was wrapping up, and I decided not to speak at that moment because I was still formulating my thoughts.
You see, even as a 20 year old, I believed feminism should be about women choosing what was best for their family, whether that was the mother staying at home or working outside of it. And that week, I decided I never wanted to be referred to as a feminist if that meant criticizing women for wanting to raise their children or even having children, for that matter.
My mother is an intelligent and talented woman. When I was little, she worked in the medical field, and I stayed with either family or sitters. When my sister was born, she chose to stay at home with us. Then, when I was in 7th grade, she went back to school to finish her master’s and went to work full time. She loved her work, and she loved us, and I watched and learned as she and my father juggled two working schedules and two kids who needed different levels of involvement and care.
Fast forward to my husband and I starting a family. I was pregnant with our oldest while studying for my doctoral comprehensives. The university was a two hour commute from where we lived, and my due date fell during the week of orals, so I had to get special permission to move them up one week. My research year followed, so I was home with her, but then I was required to teach two days a week, plus office hours. So I packed my 18 month old up in the car (did I mention I had a two hour commute both ways??), and thankfully, my parents would drive one hour from the other direction, take her while I taught, and then we would spend the night in my childhood home. The next day, we would drive three hours back home so we could both sleep in our own beds.
I realized two things: I very much wanted to stay at home with our child and any future children AND I was tired of teaching other people’s kids, even if they were technically adults. So I stayed at home with her, and our son … and then my husband lost his job when our second child was only 6 months old.
He immediately took on three jobs to make ends meet. I am still in awe of all he was willing to do to keep me at home with him. Meanwhile, I did everything I could to contribute, from couponing to consignment sales, working weekends and selling at farmer’s markets. My parents were also a huge source of support. Looking back, while I wouldn’t wish those times on anyone, we grew so much and even in times of drought, our children benefited from having me home.
A few years later, we added baby #3. I’m still at home, and we added homeschooling to the mix. I learned about affiliate marketing, MLM’s, and creating programs from my strengths. Do I fit the current definition of feminism? Absolutely not, and I wear that as a badge of honor. I don’t want to be part of a group of women who constantly criticize other women. Now, if you are someone helping to redefine things, and you believe a feminist is someone who supports women staying at home, working from home, working outside the home, being an entrepreneur, or a combo of all of the above … I adore you, and feel free to call me whatever you like.
