A Manifesto for Working Women

I wanted to become somebody—unlike my mother who apparently was a nobody. I wanted to travel. I wanted credit for my intelligence.

In the colony in Ranchi where I spent my early childhood, all women around us worked—not one was unemployed. Sinha Aunty was a farmer. She grew crops in the large backyard of their home. We never returned from her place without bushels of fresh green channa or vegetables. She had three children she nurtured.

My grandmother couldn’t see very well any more, yet she sewed and knitted. Mrs Swami was a South Indian food expert and trained many other women, including my mother, in the art of making idlis, dosas and chutneys.

The men—like so many other men—‘went to work’. They had designations and received salaries. They got promotions. They went on tours. They were important. We celebrated their achievements on weekends and in special parties. Families depended on them.

It was a very dissonant world for me. I admired my mother, but I wanted to be like my father. I wanted to travel. I wanted credit for my intelligence. I wanted to be a part of a larger world that all men seemed to slip into with ease. I wanted to become somebody—unlike my mother who apparently was a nobody. There were very few women we saw working outside their homes. There were the Irish and Malayali nuns and other teachers in our convent school. There was one female doctor in the city hospital, a gynaecologist. And there were tribal women who worked as maids in our homes.

Sure enough, I grew up and became a ‘working woman’—and spent eight of those years as a ‘single working woman’.

Our parents had saved and struggled and moved jobs and cities to make sure we got an education that would prepare us to become independent adults—so there I was ‘respectfully employed’

In 2007, I went independent. I became a media trainer and a consultant. I began to write a regular column in a national newspaper. After twenty years of being a working professional, here is what I want to add to the conversation about women at work: Women are always at work. We need to start honouring the work we do every day.

A global culture that calls it ‘work’ only when it is remunerated needs to be challenged with a new language and framework. The spotlight that shines so brightly on what women are not doing needs to be redirected towards the invisible work they do throughout their lives.

There is a crisis of self-esteem that assails most women. Unacknowledged fatigue and unarticulated responsibilities bog us down. We berate ourselves for not knowing and doing better. We have to change mindsets not only at a social level but also at an individual level.

Here is a quick manifesto for working women, for all women:

Nobody can rescue us. No. Not unless we want to rescue ourselves. Nothing will inspire change in our lives unless we actively seek inspiration and growth.

Change is hard work. It threatens status quo and demands patience. It asks for introspection and learning. It pushes us outside our safety zones. We cannot achieve it in isolation.

We need to learn to ask for help. Ask for help without surrendering your autonomy. Seek answers to questions—no matter how obvious—so you can make informed decisions. Dissect the narratives of others and take what you need to from their stories.

Don’t internalize disapproval. Often the people we love the most—the family whose approval matters to us—don’t support our efficient, multitasking personas. The men in our lives may feel threatened by our self-sufficiency. Recognize their feelings for what they are. Find ways to deal with the conflict without stepping back. Don’t forsake your responsibility towards yourself.

Tune out the noise. Identify what you have internalized while growing up. This reveals itself slowly. It asserts itself, for instance, in your immediate reaction to the news that a friend with a demanding job is getting married. Or is pregnant. Or has quit. Pay attention to the assumptions and judgements that your mind makes in such situations. These are judgements you make about yourself, too. Do I deserve better? Are my ambitions worthwhile? Am I good enough?

The answer to all these questions is ‘yes’.

Change the internal narrative. We cannot even begin to challenge other people’s attitudes without first examining our own set of prejudices. If we go on repeating that childrearing is dirty work, it sure will feel like that. If we deny others the autonomy to make personal choices, we hem ourselves in, too.

Own your time and space. Give yourself the permission to own your money. Society hasn’t handed these privileges to women on a platter. That does not mean that we cannot claim them. We can.

At the same time, we don’t have to swing from one set of pre-determined choices to another. We have the right and the power within us to redefine success and to spell out our own priorities and goals at different stages. The narrative that women and mothers must compromise their ambitions and neglect their talents for the greater good of the family is a lie.

Don’t accept it. ❤✊

An excerpt from “My Daughters’ Mum - A book of permissions to love, laugh, heal and find one’s way home by Natasha Badhwar