The invisible women of the women’s strike:

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Photo by Allen Lew of Flickr.com

The women’s strike was seen by many feminists to be the continuation of momentum from the very successful Women’s March.  It was expected to be less successful because a lot of women can’t strike (I could be fired as a government employee).  However, it did close a number of school districts (which was a BFD). I would also argue this protest served its purpose if the sole purpose was to raise awareness for things like family leave, reproductive rights, and equal pay.  However, assuming that this, alone, was the main takeaway is not helpful.  The women who did not strike have more to say than the women who did, in my opinion.  Let me say that I totally supported and cheered for my friends who were able to strike.  I think it was wonderful and I don’t think their intention in any way was to discount the voices of women of color.  However, I think if we are to use this strike as a moment of visibility, we need to be careful to talk about those invisible women, too.

I have talked before about privilege and feminism – specifically in the context of the romanticization of mothering in a developing nation which is often seen in discourse about how we raise and feed babies.  There are issues with intersectionality in third wave feminism.  The “selfie girls” who were criticised in the aftermath of the Women’s March illustrate an important dialogue about white feminism and the reality of being a minority or working class feminist.  I think it is important to continue to address these issues.

We are doing ourselves, as feminists, no favors by focusing just on the white, privileged women. It’s reductionist.  It is harmful.  This criticism became very vocal with the introduction of “you go girl” feminism in Lean In.  Sandberg makes some good points, of course.  She argues that women need to feel free to take charge, should speak more in meetings, and demand a place at the table.  Moreover, she suggest women need to choose partners who are supportive of them and will share equally. I value all of these things as a working mom and I would give the same advice to a young grad student or trainee.

However, as a working mom who is highly educated and white, there are so many opportunities I am already afforded.  My biggest problems truly are equal pay for a job that already pays my bills and parental leave at a job where I was able to use paid leave already for an FMLA protected leave where I did not have to go on LWOP.  Sandberg argues in Lean In that for our sisters in the trenches working other types of jobs, this should lead to an overall better standard of living.  That makes me uncomfortable because the issue of equality probably is hardest to swallow for these women.  It neglects the needs they have RIGHT NOW.  Asking them to wait while we serve our own needs seems selfish and misdirected.

This approach also puts the ability to succeed on the backs of women.  It’s your  fault if you don’t demand more-even though workplace harassment and institutional barriers are so entrenched in patriarchy that they are incredibly difficult to overcome.

Many feminist theorists have criticized this type of feminism, including the amazing Bell Hooks, in an essay about her “trickle down” feminism.  Hooks writes,

It should surprise no one that women and men who advocate feminist politics were stunned to hear Sandberg promoting her trickle- down theory: the assumption that having more women at the top of corporate hierarchies would make the work world better for all women, including women on the bottom. Taken at face value, this seem a naive hope given that the imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchal corporate world Sandberg wants women to lean into encourages competition over cooperation. Or as Kate Losse, author of Boy Kings: A Journey into the Heart of the Social Network, which is an insider look at the real gender politics of Facebook, contends: “By arguing that women should express their feminism by remaining in the workplace at all costs, Sandberg encourages women to maintain a commitment to the work place without encouraging the workplace to maintain a commitment to them.” It is as though Sandberg believes a subculture of powerful elite women will emerge in the workplace, powerful enough to silence male dominators.

It should surprise no one that women and men who advocate feminist politics were stunned to hear Sandberg promoting her trickle- down theory: the assumption that having more women at the top of corporate hierarchies would make the work world better for all women, including women on the bottom. Taken at face value, this seem a naive hope given that the imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchal corporate world Sandberg wants women to lean into encourages competition over cooperation. Or as Kate Losse, author of Boy Kings: A Journey into the Heart of the Social Network, which is an insider look at the real gender politics of Facebook, contends: “By arguing that women should express their feminism by remaining in the workplace at all costs, Sandberg encourages women to maintain a commitment to the work place without encouraging the workplace to maintain a commitment to them.” It is as though Sandberg believes a subculture of powerful elite women will emerge in the workplace, powerful enough to silence male dominators.

“You go girl” feminism is nearly impossible to achieve due to something political scientists like myself know all too well.  It is one big effing collective action problem.  You can do your best but only through the cooperation of women and, yes, men, can you change corporate culture.  Sandberg clearly hasn’t done that for even her class of uber-privileged ladies.  Uber (please grant me this pun) has a huge harassment scandal brewing and the EEOC is currently seeing an increase in such complaints:

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Source: EEOC (2016)

Clearly, it is not all fixed.  That’s why women marched and struck this week.  Still, focusing just on this is harmful.  I’ve already read a number of articles about the politics of gender equality and the strike.  One I would encourage anyone to read was an Op-Ed written by Meghan Daum in the LA TimesIn it, Daum states,

Make no mistake, March 8 will mostly be a day without women who can afford to skip work, shuffle childcare and household duties to someone else, and shop at stores that are likely to open at 10 and close at 5… Meanwhile, for the millions of women who have no choice but to show up and meet their responsibilities on March 8 (and every day), it will be business as usual.

I didn’t strike.  I couldn’t strike.  And the strike did not affect me as a woman because my female coworkers couldn’t strike and I was able to avoid buying anything (a man bought me a beer and a pretzel).  I posted about this on social media.  I felt it important to note why I wasn’t striking.  I was working a job to help people who needed me – vulnerable people – for a government that required me to work.  Many women are in the federal and state government workplace not represented by unions.  It’s hard for us in that capacity.  My only ability to take the day off work would be, ironically, through the PTO I do not have left because I just had a baby!  I made it clear that insufficient family leave was the reason I couldn’t strike.

I saw mostly white women striking – women with good jobs, women who are salaried, women working in industries that supported their choices.  I value what they did because it does raise awareness and keep the ball rolling.  But just talking about the strike and the powerful message it sent misses the point.

The women who can afford to strike are the “you go girl” feminists already supported by people like Sandberg.  They are very, very visible.  “Selfie girl” basically explains this all in one picture.  I was able to go out last night and see my dissertation advisor, have a beer with him, and talk about my love of Canadian politics post-dissertation because my husband made a point of taking our kid for the night.  He was able to work around a change in morning routine without my help because we share responsibilities.  If I had had the PTO and wanted to strike, he would have supported me, work would have supported me, and I would have still sent my baby to daycare.  That, I argue, would have totally defeated the purpose of the strike for me and my family.

My sitter is a great lady.  She is semi-retired and we love and value her.  She’s a small business owner.  However, she doesn’t have my education or my privilege.  Every freaking day, she juggles three babies of various ages – one who is scooting, one who is a toddler and walking, and my 3 month old – and does an amazing job at it.  She does things I could not.  She’s also a working class woman who works every day probably too hard for too little.  I feel ashamed at saying that because what she does is so hard to value for us as parents because it’s an invaluable act to help our child grow and we are lucky to afford her.  She, like many women who perform domestic duties, could not strike.  If she had struck, she would have inconvenienced those of us who pay her a lot of money to watch our kids and threatened her own business.  We would have adjusted to accommodate her but her other clients may not have.

My grandmothers were both working class, albeit white.  Would the strike have helped them?  Likely not.  One of my grandmothers ran her own cleaning business.  She had 5 living children to support on a meager income.  Pleasing her clients was what kept food on the table.  Even so, her income was often a precarious thing and very dependent on the economic situation of her clients.  It was variable.  Her work was daunting and hard.  She could not have been on strike.  My other grandmother worked every day at a grueling factory job.  She could not have been on strike.  She was not unionized – even back then.  This was the lot of so many of our mothers and grandmothers – white or otherwise (although it was so much harder for women of color) – but I think we forget about it as the plight many women still face today.  The idea of “blue collar” has changed but “working class” women still exist.

Women of color also exist.  We neglect to speak about their issues.  Again, I cannot speak for them but I feel the need to advocate for them.  These women are paid less even then us white ladies.  Black women make 60 cents vs. a man’s dollar while Latino women make only 55 cents on a man’s dollar. This is opposed to our overall pay gap of 1 dollar for men compared to 77 cents for women.  This means Latino women make almost 40% less than white women and even Black women make almost 30% less than white women.  These women are more likely to work these sorts of precarious jobs where a strike would be disastrous for them and their households.  If your main goal is to put food on the table for your kids, you can’t even afford to take a day off of work when you are already making minimum wage.  So, even if your boss won’t fire you, you don’t have much of a “choice”.

“Working class” or “minority” feminist issues ARE feminist issues.  Full stop.  They should be treated as such.  We shouldn’t stop talking about the strike as  “women were striking” but we should continue on. We should also focus on who could not strike.  That speaks so much louder to the dire situation many women find themselves in.

Why couldn’t we all strike yesterday?  We needed to save our PTO and needed to pay our daycare providers so striking wouldn’t matter anyway.  Our daycare providers and cleaning ladies, which we are privileged enough to have, can’t afford to piss off clients or miss a day’s pay due to a scheduling conflict.  Women couldn’t strike for fear of losing their jobs, folks.  They couldn’t strike because that one day’s pay was the difference between eating and not.

Feminism cannot be everything to everyone all the time, true, but it also cannot keep beating down the women who suffer most.  When working class and minority feminists start to demand inclusion and cry out for more, we need to stop high fiving ourselves and denying them a seat at the table.  Otherwise, we are no better than the misogynists calling us nasty women.

Part One: Gender in the Home

 

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Image courtesy of astoller of Flickr.com

 

This is part one of a series on gender equality in children.  It’s targeted to smashing the patriarchy but it’s not just about our daughters. It’s also, perhaps, more important to those raising strong boys.  Because without men realizing that women are human beings worthy of the same rights, women don’t stand a chance.  This series will discuss the importance of feminism and why we need to teach our kids feminism matters – starting first with theory and then moving to practical examples and applications.

So, I’ve talked about the March on Washington and the March for Life before but I think we need to talk more about how we still need these things.  If we are to find gender norms that hold our kids back, activism matters.

Some women felt we didn’t need the women’s march. I think those women are patently wrong. And I think they missed the point. Seriously so!

I hope some day to tell my daughter about how all mommy’s friends marched on state capitols, government buildings, and Washington on that historic January afternoon when she was only a few weeks old. I wasn’t cleared for exercise yet and it depressed me I could not walk. Still, I hope she is inspired to know that my friends didn’t desert us and stood for her and so many little girls.

Sure we’ve come a long way from the issues our mothers and grandmothers faced but let’s not forget where we came from and how recently we were fighting for basic human rights.  Let’s begin in the Victorian Period when the First Wave started.  We may romanticize the beautiful dresses of the period.  I do.  My husband jokes that if there is a period piece, I’m addicted.  It’s true.  I love Victoria and will watch it tonight for sure.  Still, we should remember that Queen Victoria was considered an extension of her husband in many ways.  Prince Albert had an uneasy go of accepting that his allowance and abilities relied on her in many ways.  The show does a decent job of illustrating this at times.  It’s not perfect (see romanitcization) but it illustrates the uneasy play between private and political life.

During the Victoria era, women did not have property rights in most cases and could not vote.  Even women as fortunate as Victoria!  She was at the helm as a Head of State and could not vote.  As a gender studies and political science major in college, I read a lot on this subject.  One of my favorite discussions of property rights and suffrage deals with John Stuart Mill and Mary Wollstonecraft Mill.  J.S. Mill’s “The Subjugation of Women” and Wollstonecraft’s “A Vindication of the Rights of Woman” are standard reading for burgeoning feminist scholars.  If I wrote a syllabus, I’d probably start my class here.  Wollstonecraft, in particular, touches on the issue of the home. She states that equality in education and rights between women and men would strengthen marriage as an institution and would benefit children and, thus, society. Some radical feminists will scoff at this, certainly, viewing all marriage as harmful to women but I would argue that this was about as militant as feminism was for the time. Likewise, Wollstonecraft’s defense of bringing the personal as the political is important.

What does this “personal as political” mean?  Why does it matter?  The personal as political is what drove the march for suffrage and property rights for women.  No longer were women content with letting their husband’s rule their lives.  This Victorian concept, discussed interestingly enough by the Victoria and Albert Museum, was later taken up by second wave feminists as a call for politicians to grant women more rights – rights like contraception, abortion, the choice to divorce, and the ability to be free of domestic violence. Prior to First Wave Feminism, it was thought women didn’t need political or property rights because their husbands had their best interests in mind.  Issues like this were “personal” and confined to the household and not acceptable topics for public discussion.  Remember, women couldn’t discuss or show their pregnancies still.  This would continue until Lucille Ball was pregnant on I Love Lucy in the 1950s!  Domestic violence and birth control were similar issues for Second Wave feminists.  You see, domestic violence was not a public issue. It was between you and your husband, ladies.  But if you wanted to leave?  Well, the state would admonish you and make it nearly impossible to divorce your husband.

Carol Hanisch’s essay is the seminal text on the personal as Political was published in 1969.  1969, ladies and gentlemen.  She argued that the biggest issues still facing women were simple and that excluding non-radical feminists from the dialogue wasn’t helpful.  I will still hammer this home. It’s no secret I really don’t find radical feminism to be helpful.  We aren’t there yet.  We are still in the trenches fighting for basic rights almost 50 years later. We aren’t dealing with issues specifically outlined in Betty Friedan’s Feminine Mystique or Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper as most of us either get to choose to stay home or work if we are privileged enough to have a family life which affords this.  But we aren’t in a world where we can say “equality” yet, either.  At the same time, in our largely heteronormative world where a majority of people marry and have babies, many so-called “women’s issues” are “family issues” and, thus, still big feminist issues.

Our mothers grew up witnessing this Personal as Political debate.  They had to claw like crazy to break into the workforce and get professional jobs.  This is not to say women hadn’t been in the workforce.  You see, our working class sisters had been working as cleaning ladies and factory workers for years prior with very little respect.  One of my grandmothers was a lifelong factory worker and the other was a cleaning lady and often the only breadwinner in her family.  My grandfather was always trying to be an artist.  She had 5 living children so she had to support them somehow.  But for our mothers who wanted to earn a wage and advance their careers – often with the same education or more education than their husbands – they had to work twice as hard.  Women of color probably had to work three times as hard.  And then they came home at night to the same responsibilities their stay-at-home-mothers had had.

This was even the case in my otherwise egalitarian house.  My mom would work similar hours to my dad, would do most (if not all) drop offs and pick ups and would do almost all of the housework and all the cooking during the week.  If one of us was sick, my mom took over. My dad did some household chores on the weekends and cooked our weekend meals.  He also taught me how to cook and was an excellent pasta and bread maker.  But, honestly, my mom did twice as much as my Dad.  Neither of them ever treated us differently but that was the example I had of what mom did vs. what dad did.

And I internalized it a lot.  Until my hellish pregnancy which had me bedridden for half and unable to cook for fear of vomiting in the sink.  I did almost all of our laundry, I did most of the cleaning (minus dishes, garbage, and toilet bowls), and cooked all of our home-cooked meals because my husband doesn’t cook.  But then I had to ask for him to step up.  I couldn’t work a full time job, struggle through a difficult pregnancy, and do it all.  It just wasn’t possible anymore.  So, we had to find a better balance. We still struggle.  We have a newborn now.  It’s impossible to eat out like normal people because we don’t want her to get sick and we don’t want to worry about screaming. So, I basically cook all of our meals.  I also, now that I’m back at work, I commute about 7 hours a week.  My husband now cleans and does laundry but he won’t fold and sort it properly, so that still leaves me a lot.  It’s gotten much better but it is nowhere near perfect. He’s taken more night feedings to help with the deficit but with PPD, I still struggle.  He does drop off and pick up for daycare so I don’t double my commute.

And I realize that as I type this, the implication of all of that is “he does it to help me” as if he doesn’t share an equal part in this and I am the default parent. He doesn’t see it that way.  He’s openly told me this week that he sees me as looking at her more as his “project” than as his responsibility.  That stung.  Maybe it’s not wrong.  In response, I pointed out to him that when he leaves it incumbent upon myself to cook every. damn. meal. and to watch him play xbox quietly while I make and clean up dinner while trying to take care of  a screaming baby, I feel like that’s the message I get.  I internalize that.  I bend over backward to kill myself doing it.  I turn into my mom. I go to a place I don’t want to because damn it it’s 2017.  So, we are having more conversations going forward about what we both can do to stop this.  I’m getting an hour of zen a day.  NO ONE is playing Xbox until everything is cleaned up and we are both sitting down.  Still, the fact we even have to have these discussions is indicative of gender inequality.  My husband is not an asshole. He’s a feminist.  But we’re all figuring this out.  He’s been through this before.  But his ex was a stay-at-home mom.  I am not and I am drained after a day of solo parenting in a way he isn’t.  Part of this is PPD.  And part of it is just my personality.

My anecdotal experience is not unique.  In this country, women still do significantly more housework than men.  Around the world, women miss significantly more work than men taking care of children because men don’t feel comfortable being “that” parent. Men are denied paid leave or do not take their paid leave (for the record, my husband took his paternity leave.  He said it made parenting a newborn and bonding with a newborn so much easier this time.  Still, his work did not have a formal paternity leave policy.  He was lucky to have a (female) boss and company that wanted to be flexible with us.  Hopefully, in the future, other dads will benefit from this precedent.  But he had to ask and push for it.  Many men don’t feel like they can.  And he will be the go-to pick up a sick kid parent.  That’s our agreement since I commute.  But I still worry enough about gender roles.

My daughter will learn to cook food and fix things around the house.  He will teach her how to replace a baseboard or lay down tile.  I will teach her how to make a roux.  But I don’t want her to think it has to be this way.  If her future partner (male or female) prefers to cook and she prefers to mow the yard, that’s cool.  I want her to know how to do it all, though.  And I want us to try to illustrate that moms and dads are all responsible for and capable of taking care of the household.

Parenting equality is not private issue.  It’s a public one.  Or, at least, I argue it should be as we still are nowhere near “equal”.  We need to push for paternity leave and equal pay.  We need to teach our sons how to cook and our daughters how to fix things.  We need to not stop calling dads babysitters and acknowledge their responsibility as parents and their innate abilities to be primary caregivers (yes, dads can be great stay-at-home parents!).  We need to as a society decide that parenting is unisex and that women are no more equipped to do it than men.  That’s the first step.

This isn’t just about working parents, either.  I see many friends who are struggling to balance a stay-at-home parent and their sanity.  Many dads, it seems, don’t get the very real stress of being a SAHM or the fact that keeping a tiny human alive is a full-time job.  I can’t speak to the alternative (dad stays at home) because this is really rare in my social circle.  My Dad was a SAHP for about 2 years but even he arranged childcare and worked PT for that period.  A few of my friends have husbands/partners that stay home as the primary caregiver.  I think that’s wonderful.  But even in my circle of Dr. Moms, it is far more common for both parents to work or mom to quit her job to make a career of momming (if even just until the kid is 2 or 3).  Just because mom stays home doesn’t mean she should then do all the housework and cooking.  We’ve talked about this recently.  The prospect of in the future me taking a job in a larger city with substantially more pay would allow my husband to stay home for awhile.  He’s expressed interest in it.  I know if this happens, our balance will need to change.  We’d treat it like daycare. We don’t expect our daycare to also clean our house or cook dinner.  Why should the working parent assume the SAHP is somehow capable of doing everything all the time?

I also think as much as we need breastfeeding protections in this country, we need to stop equating the parenting of newborns with breastfeeding success.  If I had a dime for every time a friend insisted she hadn’t slept in ages because she couldn’t pump enough for her husband to do a nightfeed, I would be a rich lady. Breastfeeding is hard when you work.  Really hard.  And it almost inherently puts more pressure on moms than dads.  This is not to say I disapprove of this but saying that it makes moms more important or let dads off the hook isn’t fair.  And while you can argue dads can do other things to make up for this added labor of breastfeeding, I would argue you can almost never make up for this all-encompassing tie a mom has to her baby.  I can leave the house without a worry because my baby is formula fed.  I could even go on an overnight trip.  And I can say, “I need you to take the night feed because I just can’t go another night without two REM cycles”.  But a mom who is breastfeeding can’t say that.  We should probably acknowledge that breastfeeding is inherently a labor of love for women that requires them to take on a disproportionate amount of work.  Granting more maternity and paternity leave would take some of this burden off moms and dads going through the struggles of starting breastfeeding.  And if it is not working, we should stop shaming moms.  And as moms, we should feel like it is okay to value our mental health and sleep.  This is ultimately what led me to buy the damn brezza (well, my husband bought it for us, actually) and say “I can’t do this” well before she was born.

Overall, we’ve come a long way from not being able to own property.  That’s great.  But moms are still doing more than dads.  Our daughters and sons have the most important and most immediate lessons on gender norms in our households. We need to talk about the very real challenges women face and try to do better in our households to explain that both parents are responsible for the security, health, and happiness of the family.

Breastfeeding, Shaming and Solutions that Help

I’m sick of the shaming.

Many years ago when our mothers were first becoming moms, they were shamed for breastfeeding.  If we had been moms in the 90s, most of my friend group would have been so confused as to HOW to breastfeed.  Now, it seems like the only way is breast.  The problem is that while this is the common conception of post-2010 motherhood, it isn’t all that realistic for a number of women.

I’ve talked about the way we romanticize breastfeeding, cosleeping, and a number of “crunchy” options but I want to talk now about active shaming of moms who can’t or won’t breastfeed.

On facebook this week, a friend of mine posted this meme:

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The person posting this is an ARDENT supporter of breastfeeding.  She’s a SAHM, a feminist, and pumped for MONTHS while her kiddo was sick in the NICU.  For her, breastfeeding was a bonding experience and a labor of love.  I want to start this by saying I admire her love for her child and commend her on her effort.

However, I still think it’s incredibly underhanded to post memes like this.  When I called her on it, she defended it saying it was all about “encouragement” and not shamey.  The meme cites no actual EVIDENCE of the claims it makes.  And it insinuates that formula fed babies will end up sick.  That’s screwed up because no study on earth insinuates that formula fed babies will end up on death’s door.  I won’t get into citations here because it will take a ton of time.  But if you are interested, some good journalism has already occurred on this topic.  Basically, kids regress to the mean around age 3.  Most breastfeeding benefits are short-lived, and the confounding factor in most studies which assert the power of breastfeeding don’t properly account for socioeconomic factors.  Rich women have healthier and happier babies – who’da thunk it?!

Shaming mothers does not help.  IT DOES NOT HELP.  New moms don’t need more shame.  We have enough of it.  We reap the benefits of “you don’t know how you are already ruining your child’s life” in spades just going to the grocery.  Yesterday, my anatomy scan was “textbook perfect”.  Today, I was picking up a drink with my normal two shots of espresso which are condoned by my OB and got a 10 minute lecture on how I was “killing my baby”.  Someone needs to read more.  But regardless, shaming women doesn’t help. I drank my entire beverage.  It didn’t stop me.  It just pissed me off at 7 AM. Ideas like that cited above are not encouraging women.  They don’t make women more successful at breastfeeding, either.

All of my friends who have had babies in the past 10 years have attempted breastfeeding.  Few have been successful at feeding for more than 6 months.  The few that did are stay at home moms.  The rest saw a marked decline around the time they went back to work and either had to supplement with formula or had to give it up.  I know working women CAN be successful at breastfeeding but the success rate is not great.  And when you have little leave, it makes sense.

It is so true that few women get the necessary support to make breastfeeding a success for the year required for true “benefits” to show.  After all, studies don’t focus on EBF for 6 months.  They focus on a year, 18 months, two years, etc.  For feeling strongly about this, I commend my friend who is a member of LLL.  She does truly believe women can do better with support.  I don’t doubt this is true. However, she also doesn’t face the barriers many of us face because she stays at home and is available to her child all day – for better or worse.  Working moms struggle because real life is not kind with a 9 to 5 and a pumping routine.

Things that can help women do exist.  Namely, good family leave.  The women who are most able to access breastfeeding are already able to give their babies the “best” regardless of their breast capabilities because they are wealthy, can meet regularly with lactation resources, and either don’t return to the workforce until their child is in school or already have generous leave.

I get 6 weeks of leave with this baby.  6 weeks.  And that’s what most women get.  I consider it lucky that I have “saved up” 6 weeks of paid leave.  As the breadwinner and the carrier of our insurance, I need to go back to work as soon as I can.  While my reasons for formula feeding are largely rooted in a need for medications that aren’t breastfeeding-safe, maybe I would have attempted it if I could have had more time at home.  Without time to develop a good routine, I would likely hit the same barriers most of my friends do.

Another person on her thread defended the shaming and saying we need to “do better” to get women to “stick with it”.  I commend this because I know benefits really do take about a long time.  But breastfeeding is not easy and in our country, where maternity leave is a true luxury, it is a privilege many women can’t afford.  Shaming women on top of that won’t “cure” this ill.

Pushing for better family leave is a good place to start but not one anyone seems to want to discuss.

The lactivists I know are SAHM’s. There seems to be some cognitive dissonance surrounding what a typical work week looks like when a woman returns at work and begins to pump. I don’t think these women are bad-intentioned in their demands for breastfeeding.  I think they do what they need to do.  I don’t begin to contemplate how hard their jobs are as SAHM’s.  But I do think we need greater compassion for the actual problems we face.  Judgement doesn’t work.  And if feminists are supposed to support choice, we are doing a terrible job at that right now.