Judge a Man by the Quality of His Dishwashing: Politics of Housework

What happens when 9 friends with different backgrounds, interests and aspirations come to live in a 100-year-old house? No, it’s not another predictable season of Real World  (or any other train-wreck of a reality show MTV produces), no it’s actually my current living situation. As I’ve mentioned before, I live with eight other guys and have lived and learned many a thing or two about men’s presence within feminism.

A couple of weeks ago I talked about what it means to be a man interested in advancing feminist rhetoric. If you didn’t get a chance to read it I basically harped on humanist ideology and the critical need to be open with others and yourself. This week I’d thought I’d revisit that topic, with the hope of furthering the dialogue.

When I first moved into my house, I came in with a clear vision of what it means to work in a complex house dynamic. Paramount was the understanding that certain people fit certain roles at different time, and the goal of cohabitating together was to effectively adapt to ever-changing situations.

Enter my housemates.

As I mentioned, all of us came from different backgrounds. Some had a sense of responsibilities and inherent role-playing like I mentioned above. Others did not. There are only really two or three that haven’t quite shifted into independent living and what it entails, but that still makes up for 1/3 of the house and believe me, their lack of responsibility is pretty noticeable.

I’m naturally a logical optimistic pacifist, or as I call a Lop. Never heard of a Lop? Let me explain! As a Lop, I try to evaluate a situation from all angles, look towards the benefit of the doubt, and avoid confrontation. So when it came to a build up of trash, clothes and other miscellaneous debris, I’d typically assume my mates were too busy to put their junk away, roll my eyes and sigh the way my dad would say, “kids these days,” and clean it for them.

Initially, I had no problem doing this and hardly noticed the frequency at which I was doing it until one day a friend commented on my cleaning.

“Are you like the house maid?”

One of the downfalls of being a Lop is that quite often, small observations like this snap you back into reality and into a fit of rage. I had completely ignored the fact that my weekly cleanings and become a daily ritual. My sink would be spotless in the morning and by nightfall full of dishes. I had spent maybe 20% of my daily time at the house, yet would do over 80% of the cleaning.

I was bitter and ashamed that my housemates had taken advantage of me. However being a Lop showed me the silver lining of this humbling experience to realize I understood a fraction of what workingwomen experience every day.

The role of 1950’s sitcom housewife who’s in charge of cleaning, cooking and childcare has translated the world over into an almost social obligation. In the recesses of some minds lies the assumed need for a woman to be the domestic of the household. Little has changed over the past half-century, save for a few additional responsibilities like working a full-time job. While this leads towards a focus on the few government programs to support working-class mothers (I’ll save that for a later date), let’s draw it back to men’s roles.

After going to class, then work, then doing schoolwork and clubs, the last thing I wanted to do was to do other people’s dirty dishes. Yet I did it, and did it for so long that my mates didn’t think twice. I honestly don’t blame them, I never brought it up, but that doesn’t excuse the absence of an offer to help.

Sometimes I wonder if the toxic ideology some men chose to pursue including being the “bread winners” and “earn the dough,” clouds our personal human natures. My housemates aren’t bad guys; by and large they are legitimately the some of the most caring men you’ll meet, but somehow they never noticed my struggle to keep the house clean. I also wonder if either through media, personal home lives or something else, they’ve internalized the idea that a presence (whether feminine or other) would be there to clean up after them. In any case, the burden of responsibility should be shared among equals and not thrust upon another person.

This means being caring and considerate men. As I mentioned in my last post about men, remember, don’t be a jerk. Think about your contribution or actions, how are they affecting other people? The next thing is to communicate.

Communication is key to most all situations, and if you’re like me and feel over used, it’s time to speak up. Bringing up the politics of housework doesn’t have to be confrontational, but rather an active dialogue of dividing chores. Communicate your strengths, weaknesses, preferences, anything. Get it all out there and make a point to find a balance within an equally agreed upon decision.

The chore of dividing the chores doesn’t need to be such a chore.

Eventually I talked to my housemates and we agreed upon an accountability system. So far it’s worked extremely well and I’m happy to report I’m not the only one conscious of cleaning. Life doesn’t have to end in a shouting match like the Jersey Shore, but can be civilly discussed and changed to equally benefit all parties.

Have you been apart of a similar situation? How did you handle it? Have any advice? Want to give a shout out? Leave a comment!