I returned from work, having attended an investor meeting; speaking with my mom in the kitchen, preparing a light dinner, considering to bake a weekend sponge cake. Simultaneously, I plan to tune into the Cesko na krizovatce (Czechia on the Crossroads) conference.
As I blend the sponge cake batter, my mom and I provide commentary on the conference. We observe two dozen sagacious, esteemed speakers with ambitious visions. They articulate urgently and passionately about our future. Even the prime minister made an appearance. The event exuded grandeur.
Cesko na krizovatce. Hm. The title fits. Virtually all men.
As for my mom’s commentary on this, I’d spare you the details.
Ah, you likely don’t know my mom. Turning 80 this year, she’s a big feminist. Incredibly active. Indeed, highly, highly active. A trained chef, a graduate in hotel management, and further studies at the university. She consistently worked. Post-revolution, she ventured into business at her fifty (!) and, naturally, continues to guide me.
“Sure, Mom, enjoy a glass of wine,” I suggest, amplifying the conference. Truly, one man after another.
Why, with equal urgency and intelligence, were there scarcely any women involved in discussions about the “national vision and strategy”? Where were they at that particular time? Perhaps, as the weekend approached, they dedicated themselves entirely to family, household, children…
Naturally.
After all, society predominantly perceives a woman’s purpose in the role of a mother. A viewpoint ingrained for centuries, only recently undergoing transformation as technology allows for the abandonment of the essential “division of labor.”
Do we need the raisins in the sponge? An important question. This time, I’ll include them. The sponge cake enters the oven, and I pour a small glass of wine for myself and my mom. The conference is well-structured, but the absence of women in the dialogue about the “national vision and strategy” strikes me as utterly absurd.
Indeed, the “division of labor.” A deeply embedded historical stereotype where women sacrificing for the family are still upheld as role models. It doesn’t have to be the sole suitable or, let alone, correct approach. Through this lens, these women become exemplary, while others, who, alongside the motherhood, pursue a career, are often labeled as neglectful mothers. In my view, it’s a potent stigma in mainstream society, struggling to accept that all lifestyles, except delinquent ones that harm it, are plausible and should, therefore, receive support. Aren’t women who, for various reasons, don’t desire or can’t have children and opt for a different path, showcasing their talents and passion, just as crucial? Or how many women have children solely because their partners wish for them?
The biological ability to bear children is one of women’s unique competencies. Being a mother is an advantage and a gift. But in the 21st century, is it truly imperative to remain on parental leave with children for three or four years? In my perspective, it’s nonsensical. Is a mother exclusively responsible for raising her children one hundred percent independently? Can someone else, perhaps fifty percent, share this role with us? Isn’t it about partnership? Isn’t it normal in contemporary society for a woman to assume other roles that may provide as much or even more satisfaction than everyday childcare? Hasn’t the society invested comparable resources in educating women as it has in educating men? And isn’t the society squandering public funds when it inadequately supports women in returning to work sooner? And beware! Let’s be even more heretical – couldn’t a man be a more suitable figure for raising children in many families? You’re familiar with it. The extensively debated issue of the feminization of education and its repercussions on children, who predominantly interact with women throughout the day.
In a moment, I’ll attempt to extract the sponge cake from the mold; hopefully, it will succeed. This is always a challenge. As I’ve experienced countless times in life, women adapt to almost everything. Therefore, it’s no surprise that they find contentment and joy in parenthood. Frequently, their role as mothers evolves into a profession that supersedes their personal ambitions. Yet, to what extent does motherhood genuinely fulfill us, and have we not subconsciously convinced ourselves of this because it aligns with societal expectations?
I can already envision the remarks on social media: “You’re selfish if you complain about the role of a mother!”
However, I’m not complaining at all. For heaven’s sake. Personally, I’m utterly convinced that embracing motherhood entails harnessing a natural competence that transforms a woman into a multifaceted individual. Being a mother is simply an unparalleled opportunity for growth. It’s not coincidental that it’s said a mother of two small children could manage air traffic control from a crib.
Despite being a mother of six children, I’ve consistently found fulfillment in creating or establishing something new. Every time, I fall in love with my latest project. Similar to how love for a person fills us with happiness hormones, each new project inundates me with renewed energy. I can envision that other women derive complete satisfaction from their artistic creations, scientific pursuits, or team management. I’m acquainted with dozens of incredibly inspiring women who, to satisfy their work-related passion, not only grapple with family demands and job responsibilities but also contend with the constant need to justify their decision to build a career.
And I’m not talking about the women who are the primary breadwinners for their families, left with no alternative but to reconcile the roles of provider and mother. I experienced it myself when I was alone with three children. Merging motherhood and employment is demanding, hence it’s unsurprising that few of us have the time to engage in various functions to secure a place in local or national politics or in associations and chambers, enabling us to participate in decisions about society’s trajectory. Can we then be taken aback that society frequently overlooks women, even though they constitute more than half of the global population, leading to inadequate attention to their needs? Society predominantly addresses the concerns of those who vocalize them and, consequently, make decisions. Men.
But believe me, men, by their very nature, can’t entirely comprehend women’s issues and desires, even if they wish to, due to their fundamentally different needs. Hats off to those exceptional men who strive to listen and consider women’s opinions and perspectives. However, until men, metaphorically speaking, “walk a mile in our shoes,” they can’t accurately assess the social situation of women.
The predicament is rooted in the biological disparities between men and women, and it would be naive to believe that this arrangement can spontaneously alter in the immediate future.
I ponder that for this transformation to occur, women must secure representation in decision-making bodies. It’s crucial for them, despite their hectic schedules, to allocate time for roles in local and national politics, associations, and chambers, supporting one another and gradually ascending the political ladder to positions where they can influence decisions. Only then can we anticipate the emergence of genuine female leaders, or “strong women” as they’re termed nowadays, who will champion the interests of women, interests that assuredly do not clash with those of men. Strong women. That’s what I refer to them as.
Conditions and space must be established for every woman interested in public roles. It won’t be an easy journey, but it’s a path leading to the possibility of presenting women’s vision for the Czech society over the next thirty years, aligning with the societal structure: ideally, a balanced 50-50 representation. I might sound preachy, and I agree with you. But I can, after all, I’m at home.
Having successfully turned out the sponge cake, I reward myself by switching off the conference. I wonder how long it will take for such a change to materialize. How will we achieve it? Probably not through quotas; quotas offend women, at least they offend me. We are not handicapped, needing support. In many situations, we are stronger than men. We are more stable. We feel on a broader spectrum. At least, that’s my belief.
Intuition. Feeling. Strength.
If you have any thoughts on this, dear women, I’d be delighted if you wrote to me. Anything that comes to your mind.
Dive into it.
Ivana Tykač,
