Here's how my recent Thanksgiving plate looked: at the very top, there was a mound of macaroni and cheese. Because I used to mix my mac and cheese and corn together as a kid and still do, a spoonful of corn was next. Then, there were yams and greens because they're delicious together. Next was the meat of choice, probably a roast, because I'm not a turkey fan. Finally, three rolls because I eat way too much bread.
The plate was a work of art. It was everything I love to eat, placed perfectly in just the right portions. It was beautiful. And it was one of the many special things my wife has done for me.
Yes, my wife "made my plate" for me, as she's done for the last four years or so since we started dating. When people around us saw what my wife did, their reactions were definitely mixed. Some commented how lucky I was to have a wife that did that for me. Others asked why I didn't just get up and make my own damn plate. Sure, I could have made my own plate, but I didn't. Here's why.
The plate, as silly as it may sound to you, represented my wife truly understanding me. She knew what I wanted almost better than I did. She had listened to me and knew my tendencies and habits. I didn't ask her to do it, and I would have been perfectly happy to get my own plate, but she did it as a small gesture, just as I try (and probably should try more) to offer similar small tokens of love everyday.
Roles in marriages are constantly evolving, especially in contemporary western society where many couples aren't opting to get married anymore. My wife and I, like many young couples, are still trying to figure it all out. When we were dating and talking about marriage, she explained to me certain goals she's had for herself as a spouse. She told me that one of them was that she wanted to "serve" her husband. I was stunned.
The word raised a definite red flag that made me uncomfortable. "Serve" carries such a negative connotation that it made me fear that my wife and I might have an unhealthy – and unequal – relationship. The idea of my wife serving me made me think of the 1950s or a time not so long ago when women were confined to kitchens. It took me a while to understand my relationship with the word and why it was so off-putting.
Part of the issue with the word "serve" isn't just that it's sexist, it's also linked to all the invisible work we take for granted and often don't appreciate – from slavery to the waiters we don't like to tip. I felt like my wife was offering to perpetuate the very sexist ways that women have and continue to supply invisible and undervalued labor. And I wanted no part in that. She tried to explain to me that it wasn't about gender roles or being subservient. It was about doing something to make her husband smile. And she'd only do these things for someone who would try just as hard to make her smile. Still, that didn't stop me from following her around family gatherings with an empty plate saying, "You sure? I can get it if you don't want to make the plate." She'd (at first) patiently say, "I've got it. Just take a seat." After a few more "you sure's?" she'd shoot me a look that would warn "go away right now," which of course, I'd have to obey. We played this back-and-forth game for months until I truly started becoming comfortable with her doing something like making a plate for me.
Once we got married and ran a house together, I began to understand what she really meant – that service is a two-way street built on love and a desire to make your spouse happy. (Or simply, let's be honest, to survive in a sometimes chaotic house, especially when kids come into the picture). The problem seems to arise when other people outside our marriage project their criticisms and expectations of gender onto our actions. Typically, they might only observe one action – like making the Thanksgiving plate – and make assumptions, much as I initially had. Usually, the assumption was that my wife and I were living some sort of twisted Stepford Wife life.
When I do something for my family that falls outside of traditional gender roles, I receive an unjust amount of praise. Whenever I'm out with the kids at the mall, for instance, people stop me and say how great it is to see a father spending time with his own children. One waitress even tried to give me free food because I brought my newborn to lunch. But when my wife is out with the kids by herself, nobody bats an eye. If my wife were to write an article about a man who cooks dinner for her and the kids, cleans and rubs her feet at night, I'd be considered some sort of Superman. But think about my wife doing those things. She'd be seen by some as behaving "traditionally" and bowing to a paternalistic relationship. Is it the act of "serving" itself that makes people uneasy, or is it that the service is done while conforming to oppressive gender norms? Would my wife be viewed as any more or less "subservient" if she did something for me like rotate my tires, instead of the more stereotypical female act of making up my plate?
I'm not an expert on gender equality, so I don't know exactly why it took me so long to understand that my wife was choosing to "serve" me out of love, not because she had been conditioned by years of gender bias. I have finally allowed myself the comfort of sometimes being "served" by my wife, and her kindness has taught me to try to find more ways to serve her in return. We try not to let the judgements of others irk us, but I do wish people would stop praising me for staying at home with our son for the first six months of his life, as if it were some sort of glorious act. It wasn't. It was the same as a mother staying at home, and there were emotional, financial and practical reasons for me to do it.
I'm not sure what my wife and I are supposed to do for each other based on prevailing gender norms and what the outside world expects of us. Here's what I do know: I love it when someone figures out the perfect way to put food on my plate. I don't expect it or need it, but it makes me happy. Similarly, when my wife has had a long day at work, and I know she's been walking around a lot or has worn less than comfortable shoes, I try to make sure I rub her feet that night and have a glass of wine waiting for her when she gets home. Or, when she has late night cravings for a midnight dessert, I usually insist that I go get whatever it is she wants. It makes her happy. So I do it. It should be that simple.
My wife and I know that some people will judge her for making my plate and see me as a chauvinist for "allowing" her to do it. Some people will also continue to think I'm something special for having dinner made for her when she gets home. But what they fail to see is that we're serving each based on the mutual desire to make one another happy and our lives easier. Shouldn't that be all that matters?
(theguardian.com)
ANN.Az
