It feels grandiose to say that writing my book is an act of generosity. But, in the technical sense, you could reasonably call it a gift.
Anthropologist Lewis Hyde and author of The Gift says that creative work, true art, is given as an offering. And, indeed, I’m not getting paid to write this book. It’s not a market commodity like milk or lumber that has a standard dollar value. I don’t know if it will sell at all, and if I’m given some money in the end, it will be a bonus. But I’m still laboring away.
I’m putting in hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of unpaid labor with no guarantee of return…much like in motherhood.
Our patriarchal society has decided it crass or unnatural to pay people to take care of their children, and instead expects that parents—and, let’s face it, mostly mothers—willingly do hours and hours of incredibly demanding, ‘round the clock, uncompensated labor, for years and years.
To dismiss this work as “what they signed up for,” is both at times misleading—given the limited access to abortion in this country right now, many mothers have not willingly signed up for this work—and it obscures the truth that mothers provide an incredibly valuable service both to their individual children and to society more generally. We ought to recognize their work for what it is: enslavement to care for our children through bonds of love and/or an act of breathtaking generosity.
Of course, both artists and parents receive certain intangible benefits from their labors of love: deep relationships to others and to ourselves; experiences of compassion, connection, and joy; a great sense of purpose or meaning.
But those goods arise from the labor itself. They’re not quite the same as a repayment of lifelong intimacy, or guaranteed caretaking of us in our old age, or, frankly, cold hard cash. Those things are uncertain and/or unforthcoming.
Ultimately, I may actually end up getting paid for my book at an amount that reasonably compensates all those writing hours (fingers crossed!). But unless there are some radical changes in public policy, I don’t imagine that stay-at-home parents are going to start receiving bi-weekly federal paychecks any time soon.
That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t value the work that we mothers do and we shouldn’t give ourselves credit for the deep generosity we continue to show. It also doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t fight for and expect substantial compensation.
Weekly Gifts
This year I’m working on my theme of Generosity by giving at least one gift every week of the year, and to chronicle and reflect on them here.
Week 38, Sep 16-22: I volunteered to do lunch duty at my 3rd-grader’s school once a month. While driving forty-five minutes round trip to stand in a loud cafeteria of elementary kids for an hour is not exactly my idea of a good time, I know that pitching in keeps me connected to the school community.
Week 39, Sep 23-29: I gave a talk called "How to Feel Worthy, Even When You Can't Do it All" at the POWER women's networking event in Portland, OR. It’s hard to know whether to consider this as a giving or a receiving of a gift.
Week 40, Sep 30-Oct 6: I’ve noticed that I’ve been tipping with a lot less angst recently, feeling less like I’m tipping because I feel obligated and more like I’m doing so because I want to.
Week 41, Oct 7-13: I brought a bowl of fresh-picked figs to a friends’ place as an offering for the snack platter. There was something so especially delightful about plucking fruit, knowing that it would be enjoyed in just a few hours.
Week 42, Oct 14-20: A friend and I went out to eat. He makes an order of magnitude more money than me and so he always insists on paying for dinner, but I was glad he didn’t protest when I paid for dessert later. An offering for an offering, regardless of the size.
Danielle LaSusa Ph.D. is a Philosophical Coach, helping new moms grapple with what it means to make a person. She is the creator of The Meaning of Motherhood course, which explores the changes in identity, meaning, and wisdom that come with motherhood. To join her mailing list, subscribe here.
© Copyright Danielle LaSusa PhD, LCC, 2021. All rights reserved.
