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Wanted, a Young Woman to Do Housework Business principles applied to housework by Barker, C. Helene - PART I

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Wanted, a Young Woman to Do Housework Business principles applied to housework

PART I

CAUS­ES OF THE PRESENT UN­SAT­IS­FAC­TO­RY CON­DI­TION OF DO­MES­TIC LA­BOR

Ig­no­rance and in­ef­fi­cien­cy in the home. Dif­fi­cul­ty of ob­tain­ing wom­en to do house­work. The dis­ad­van­tages con­nect­ed with house­work com­pared with work in fac­to­ries, stores, and of­fices.

IG­NO­RANCE AND IN­EF­FI­CIEN­CY IN THE HOME

The twen­ti­eth-​cen­tu­ry wom­an, in spite of her pro­gres­sive and am­bi­tious the­ories about wom­an's sphere of ac­tiv­ity, has al­lowed her house­keep­ing meth­ods to re­main al­most sta­tion­ary, while oth­er pro­fes­sions and in­dus­tries have moved for­ward with gi­gan­tic strides.

She does not hes­itate to bla­zon abroad with ban­ners and pen­nants her de­sire to share with man the re­spon­si­bil­ity for the ad­min­is­tra­tion of the State, but she over­looks the dis­qui­et­ing fact that in the man­age­ment of her own house­hold, where her au­thor­ity is ab­so­lute, she has failed to con­vince the world of her pow­er to gov­ern. When con­front­ed with this ac­cu­sa­tion, she as­serts that the main­te­nance of a home is nei­ther a busi­ness nor a pro­fes­sion, and that in con­se­quence it ought not to be com­pared with them nor be judged by the same stan­dards.

Is it not due per­haps to this er­ro­neous idea that house­keep­ing is a fail­ure to-​day? For the fact that it is a fail­ure can­not be hid­den, and that it has been a fail­ure for many years past is equal­ly true. Re­cent in­ven­tions, and la­bor sav­ing uten­sils, have great­ly fa­cil­itat­ed house­work, yet house­keep­ing is still ac­com­pa­nied with much dis­sat­is­fac­tion on the part of the em­ploy­er and the em­ploy­ee.

There are on­ly a few wom­en to-​day who re­gard do­mes­tic sci­ence in the light of a pro­fes­sion, or a busi­ness, al­though in re­al­ity it is both. For what is a pro­fes­sion if it be not the ap­pli­ca­tion of sci­ence to life? And does not work which one fol­lows reg­ular­ly con­sti­tute a busi­ness?

Many wom­en, how­ev­er, do not re­gard house­keep­ing even as a se­ri­ous oc­cu­pa­tion, and few have de­vot­ed as much time, thought, and en­er­gy to mas­ter­ing the prin­ci­ples of do­mes­tic econ­omy as of late years wom­en of all class­es of so­ci­ety have will­ing­ly giv­en to the study of the rules and ev­er chang­ing in­tri­ca­cies of auc­tion bridge. Some con­sid­er their time too valu­able to de­vote to do­mes­tic and culi­nary mat­ters, and open­ly boast of their ig­no­rance. Out­side en­gage­ments, plea­sures, phil­an­thropic schemes, or work, mo­nop­olize their days, and the con­duct of the house de­volves up­on their em­ploy­ees. The re­sult is rarely sat­is­fac­to­ry. It is es­sen­tial that the wom­an who is at the head of any con­cern, be it a busi­ness, a pro­fes­sion, or a home, should not on­ly thor­ough­ly un­der­stand its ev­ery de­tail, but in or­der to make it a suc­cess she must give it her per­son­al at­ten­tion each day for at least a por­tion of her time.

It is a pop­ular im­pres­sion that the knowl­edge of good house­keep­ing, and of the prop­er care of chil­dren, comes nat­ural­ly to a wom­an, who, though she had no pre­vi­ous train­ing or prepa­ra­tion for these du­ties, sud­den­ly finds them thrust up­on her. But how many wom­en can re­al­ly look back with joy to the first years of their house­keep­ing? Do they not re­mem­ber them more with a feel­ing of dis­may than plea­sure? How many fool­ish mis­takes oc­curred en­tail­ing re­pen­tance and dis­com­fort! And how many heart-​burn­ings were caused, and even tears shed, be­cause in spite of the best in­ten­tions, ev­ery­thing seemed to go wrong? And why? Sim­ply be­cause of ig­no­rance and in­ef­fi­cien­cy in the home, not on­ly of the em­ploy­ee, but of the em­ploy­er al­so.

That an em­ploy­ee is ig­no­rant and un­skilled in her work is of­ten ex­cus­able, but there is ab­so­lute­ly no ex­cuse for a wom­an who has time and mon­ey at her com­mand, to be ig­no­rant of do­mes­tic sci­ence, when of her own free will she un­der­takes the re­spon­si­bil­ities of house­keep­ing.

Near­ly all wom­en take in­ter­est in the fur­nish­ing of their homes, and give their per­son­al at­ten­tion to it with the re­sult that as a rule they ex­cel in house­hold dec­ora­tion, and of­ten pro­duce mar­vels of beau­ty and taste with the ex­pen­di­ture of rel­ative­ly small amounts of mon­ey.

Mar­ket­ing is al­so very gen­er­al­ly at­tend­ed to in per­son by the house­wife, but she is us­ing the tele­phone more and more fre­quent­ly as a sub­sti­tute for a per­son­al vis­it to butch­er and gro­cer, and this is great­ly to her dis­ad­van­tage. The tele­phone is a very con­ve­nient in­stru­ment, es­pe­cial­ly in emer­gen­cy, or for or­der­ing things that do not vary in price. But when prices de­pend up­on the fluc­tu­ations of the mar­ket, or when the ar­ti­cles to be pur­chased are of a per­ish­able na­ture, it must be re­mem­bered that the tele­phone is al­so a very con­ve­nient in­stru­ment for the mer­chant who is anx­ious to get rid of his bad stock.

The re­main­ing branch­es of house­keep­ing ap­par­ent­ly do not in­ter­est the mod­ern house­wife. She en­trusts them very gen­er­al­ly to her em­ploy­ees, up­on whose skill and knowl­edge she blind­ly re­lies. Un­for­tu­nate­ly skill and knowl­edge are very rare qual­ities, and if the house­wife her­self be ig­no­rant of the prop­er way of do­ing the work in her own home, how can she be fit­ted to di­rect those she places in charge of it, or to make a wise choice when she has to se­lect a new em­ploy­ee? Too of­ten she en­gages wom­en and young girls with­out in­ves­ti­gat­ing their ref­er­ences of char­ac­ter or ca­pa­bil­ity, and when time proves what an im­pru­dent pro­ceed­ing she has been par­ty to, she sim­ply at­tributes the con­se­quent trou­bles to caus­es be­yond her con­trol. If the house­wife were re­al­ly wor­thy of her name she would be able not on­ly to pick out bet­ter em­ploy­ees, but to in­sist up­on their work be­ing prop­er­ly done. To-​day she is al­most afraid to ask her cook to pre­pare all the dish­es for the fam­ily meals, nor does she al­ways find some one will­ing to do the fam­ily wash­ing. She is obliged to buy food al­ready cooked from the cater­er or bak­er, be­cause her so-​called “cook” was not ac­cus­tomed to bake bread and rolls, or to make pies and cakes, or ice cream, for pre­vi­ous em­ploy­ers, from whom nev­er­the­less she re­ceived an ex­cel­lent ref­er­ence as cook. Of course in cities it is easy to buy food al­ready cooked or canned and to send all the wash­ing to the laun­dry, but it helps to raise the “high cost of liv­ing” to alarm­ing pro­por­tions, and it al­so en­cour­ages ig­no­rance in the most im­por­tant branch­es of do­mes­tic econ­omy.

In spite of the “rush of mod­ern life,” a wom­an who has a home ought to be will­ing to give some part of her time to its dai­ly su­per­vi­sion. Eter­nal vig­ilance is the price of ev­ery­thing worth hav­ing. If she gave this she would not have so many tales of woe to re­late about the lazi­ness, ne­glect­ful­ness, and stu­pid­ity of her cook and house­maids. There is not a sin­gle house­wife to-​day who has not had many bit­ter ex­pe­ri­ences. One who de­sires in­for­ma­tion up­on this sub­ject has on­ly to call on the near­est friend.

To the un­in­ter­est­ed per­son, to the on­look­er, the help­less­ness of the wom­an who is at the head of the home, her in­abil­ity to cope with her do­mes­tic dif­fi­cul­ties, is of­ten com­ic, some­times pa­thet­ic, some­times al­most trag­ic. The pub­li­ca­tions of the day have car­ica­tured the sit­ua­tion un­til it has be­come an out­worn jest. The present sys­tem of house­keep­ing can no longer stand. One of two things must oc­cur. Ei­ther the house­wife must adopt busi­ness prin­ci­ples in rul­ing her house­hold, or she will find be­fore many more years elapse there will be no longer any wom­an will­ing to place her neck un­der the do­mes­tic yoke.

If the prin­ci­ples set forth in the fol­low­ing pages can be pop­ular­ized in a com­pre­hen­sive plan of which all the parts can be thor­ough­ly un­der­stood both by the house­wife and her em­ploy­ee, ig­no­rance and in­ef­fi­cien­cy in the home will be present­ly abol­ished.

DIF­FI­CUL­TY OF OB­TAIN­ING WOM­EN TO DO HOUSE­WORK

The present un­sat­is­fac­to­ry con­di­tion of do­mes­tic la­bor in pri­vate hous­es is not con­fined to any spe­cial city or coun­try; it is uni­ver­sal. Each year the dif­fi­cul­ty of ob­tain­ing wom­en to do house­work seems to in­crease and the de­mand is so much greater than the sup­ply, that ig­no­rant and in­ef­fi­cient em­ploy­ees are re­tained sim­ply be­cause it is im­pos­si­ble to find oth­ers more com­pe­tent to re­place them.

There is hard­ly a home to-​day where, at one time or an­oth­er, the house­wife has not gone through the un­en­vi­able ex­pe­ri­ence of be­ing fi­nan­cial­ly able and per­fect­ly will­ing to pay for the ser­vices of some one to help her in her house­keep­ing du­ties, and yet found it al­most im­pos­si­ble to get a re­al­ly com­pe­tent and in­tel­li­gent em­ploy­ee. As a rule, those who ap­ply for po­si­tions in house­work are gross­ly ig­no­rant of the du­ties they pro­fess to per­form, and the well trained, clever, and ex­pe­ri­enced work­ers are sad­ly in the mi­nor­ity.

Wom­en and young girls who face the ne­ces­si­ty of self sup­port, or who wish to lead a life of in­de­pen­dence, no longer choose house­work as a means of earn­ing a liveli­hood. It is ev­ident that there is a rea­son, and a very po­tent one, that de­cides them to ac­cept any kind of em­ploy­ment in pref­er­ence to the work of­fered them in a pri­vate home. Wages, ap­par­ent­ly, have lit­tle to do with their de­ci­sion, nor oth­er con­sid­er­ations which must add very much to their ma­te­ri­al wel­fare, such as good food in abun­dance, and clean, well ven­ti­lat­ed sleep­ing ac­com­mo­da­tions, for these two im­por­tant items are gen­er­al­ly in­clud­ed at present in the salaries of house­hold em­ploy­ees. Con­ces­sions, too, are fre­quent­ly made, and fa­vors be­stowed up­on them by many of their em­ploy­ers, yet few young girls, and still few­er wom­en are con­tent to work in pri­vate fam­ilies.

It is a de­plorable state of af­fairs, and wom­en seem to be grad­ual­ly los­ing their courage to bat­tle with this in­creas­ing­ly dif­fi­cult ques­tion: How to ob­tain and re­tain one's do­mes­tic em­ploy­ees?

The peace of the fam­ily and the joy and com­fort of one's home should be a great enough in­cen­tive to awak­en the house­wife to the re­al­iza­tion that some­thing must be wrong in her present meth­ods. It is in vain that she com­plains bit­ter­ly, on all oc­ca­sions, of the scarci­ty of good ser­vants, as­sert­ing that it is be­yond her com­pre­hen­sion why work in fac­to­ries, stores, and of­fices, should be pre­ferred to the work she of­fers.

Is it be­yond her com­pre­hen­sion? Or has she nev­er con­sid­ered in what way the work she of­fers dif­fers from the work so ea­ger­ly ac­cept­ed? Does she not re­al­ize that the present laws of la­bor adopt­ed in busi­ness are very dif­fer­ent from those she still en­forces in her own home? Why does she not com­pare house­work with all oth­er work in which wom­en are em­ployed, and find out why house­work is dis­dained by near­ly all self sup­port­ing wom­en?

In­stead of do­ing this, she some­times avoids the trou­ble of try­ing to keep house with in­com­pe­tent em­ploy­ees by liv­ing in ho­tels, or non-​house­keep­ing apart­ments; but for the house­wife who does not pos­sess the fi­nan­cial means to in­dulge her­self thus, or who still prefers home life with all its tri­als to ho­tel life, the on­ly al­ter­na­tive is to sub­mit to pay high wages for very poor work or to do a great part of the house­work her­self. In both cas­es the re­sult is bad, for in nei­ther does the fam­ily en­joy the full ben­efit of home, nor is the vex­atious prob­lem, so of­ten des­ig­nat­ed as the “ser­vant ques­tion,” brought any near­er to a so­lu­tion.

The care­ful study of any form of la­bor in­vari­ably re­veals some need of ame­lio­ra­tion, but in none is there a more ur­gent need of re­form than in do­mes­tic la­bor in pri­vate homes.

It is more for the sake of the house­wife than for her em­ploy­ee that a re­form is to be de­sired. The lat­ter is solv­ing her prob­lem by find­ing work out­side the home, while the for­mer is still un­du­ly ha­rassed by house­hold trou­bles. With a few no­table ex­cep­tions, on­ly those who are un­qual­ified to com­pete with the busi­ness wom­an are left to help the house­hold­er, and the prob­lem con­fronting her to-​day is not so much how to change in­ef­fi­cient to ef­fi­cient help, but how to ob­tain any help at all.

The spir­it of in­de­pen­dence has so deeply en­tered in­to the lives of wom­en of all class­es, that un­til house­work be reg­ulat­ed in such a way as to give to those en­gaged in it the same rights and priv­ileges as are grant­ed to them in oth­er forms of la­bor, the best work­ers will nat­ural­ly seek em­ploy­ment else­where.

THE DIS­AD­VAN­TAGES OF HOUSE­WORK COM­PARED WITH WORK IN FAC­TO­RIES, STORES, AND OF­FICES

House­work, when care­ful­ly com­pared with work per­formed by wom­en in fac­to­ries, stores, and of­fices, shows to a re­mark­able de­gree how many old fash­ioned ways of con­duct­ing her house­hold still cling to the mod­ern house­wife. The meth­ods that made house­keep­ing a suc­cess in the time of our an­ces­tors are not adapt­ed to the present needs of a so­ci­ety in which wom­en who earn their own liv­ing are oc­cu­py­ing so much more im­por­tant po­si­tions than for­mer­ly. Large stores and fac­to­ries, re­quir­ing the cooeper­ation of many em­ploy­ees, have done more to open new av­enues of work for wom­en than could have been dreamed of in for­mer times, when it was the cus­tom for each fam­ily to pro­duce at home as much as pos­si­ble, if not all, that was nec­es­sary for its own con­sump­tion.

Wom­en, as a rule, are not taught self re­liance, and many who hes­itate to leave their homes to earn a liveli­hood, find that by do­ing work in stores, fac­to­ries, or of­fices, they are not ut­ter­ly sep­arat­ed from their fam­ilies. The work may be hard­er than they an­tic­ipat­ed and the pay small, but there is al­ways the hope of pro­mo­tion and of a cor­re­spond­ing in­crease of wages. Busi­ness hours are fre­quent­ly long, but they are lim­it­ed, and af­ter the day's work is over, the re­main­der of the twen­ty-​four hours is at the dis­pos­al of the em­ploy­ees, who can still en­joy the hap­pi­ness and free­dom as­so­ci­at­ed with the life of their own so­cial cir­cle. Be­sides they have one day out of sev­en as a day of rest, and many le­gal hol­idays come an­nu­al­ly to re­lieve the over­strain.

With house­work it is very dif­fer­ent. The wom­an who ac­cepts the po­si­tion of a house­hold em­ploy­ee in a pri­vate home must usu­al­ly make up her mind to leave her fam­ily, to de­tach her­self from all home ties, and to take up her abode in her em­ploy­er's house. It is on­ly oc­ca­sion­al­ly, about once a week for a few hours at a time, that she is al­lowed to make her es­cape. It is a rec­og­nized fact that a change of en­vi­ron­ment has a ben­efi­cial ef­fect up­on ev­ery one, but a do­mes­tic em­ploy­ee must forego this dai­ly re­new­al of thought and at­mo­sphere. Even if she does not know that she needs it in or­der to keep her men­tal ac­tiv­ities alive, the re­sult is in­evitable: to one who does noth­ing but the same work from ear­ly morn­ing un­til late at night and who nev­er comes in con­tact with the out­side world ex­cept four times a month, the work soon sinks to mere drudgery.

As to pro­mo­tion in house­work it seems to be al­most un­known. Con­sid­er­ing the many re­spon­si­ble po­si­tions wait­ing to be filled in pri­vate fam­ilies, noth­ing could be more de­sir­able than to in­stil in­to one's em­ploy­ees the am­bi­tion to rise. An em­ploy­ee who has passed through all the dif­fer­ent branch­es of do­mes­tic sci­ence, from the low­est to the high­est in one fam­ily, must be far bet­ter fit­ted to oc­cu­py the high­est po­si­tion in that fam­ily than one who ap­plies for the po­si­tion with the train­ing and ex­pe­ri­ence gained on­ly in oth­er fam­ilies where the mode of liv­ing may be very dif­fer­ent. Since there is no chance of pro­mo­tion and in con­se­quence of re­ceiv­ing bet­ter pay, the do­mes­tic em­ploy­ee is of­ten tempt­ed to seek high­er wages else­where, and thus the de­sire “to make a change,” so dis­as­trous to the peace of mind of the house­wife, is en­gen­dered in her em­ploy­ees.

In do­mes­tic la­bor the hours of work are longer than in any oth­er form of em­ploy­ment, for they are un­lim­it­ed. More­over, in­stead of hav­ing one day out of sev­en as a day of rest, on­ly half a day is grant­ed be­gin­ning usu­al­ly about three o'clock in the af­ter­noon, or even lat­er. And le­gal hol­idays bring no re­lief, for they are prac­ti­cal­ly un­known to the house­hold em­ploy­ee. The on­ly way wom­en en­gaged in house­work in pri­vate fam­ilies can ob­tain a re­al hol­iday is by be­ing sud­den­ly called away “to take care of a sick aunt.” There is an old say­ing con­tain­ing cer­tain words of wis­dom about “all work and no play” that per­haps ex­plains the dull­ness so of­ten met with in do­mes­tic help.

The hard­est thing to sub­mit to, how­ev­er, from the point of view of the wom­an em­ployed in house­work, is the lack of free­dom out­side of work­ing hours. This pre­vents her from tak­ing part in her for­mer so­cial life. She is not al­lowed to go out even for an hour or two ev­ery day to see her rel­atives and friends. To ask them to vis­it her in her em­ploy­er's kitchen is not a very agree­able al­ter­na­tive ei­ther to her­self or her em­ploy­er, and even then she is obliged to be on du­ty, for she must still wear her uni­form and hold her­self in readi­ness to an­swer the bell un­til the fam­ily for whom she works re­tires for the night.

With such re­stric­tions it is not sur­pris­ing that the ma­jor­ity of wom­en feel that they are los­ing “caste” if they ac­cept po­si­tions in pri­vate fam­ilies. There are two more caus­es to which this feel­ing of the loss of caste may be at­tribut­ed. One is the habit of call­ing house­hold em­ploy­ees by their first name or by their sur­name with­out the pre­fix of “Miss”; the oth­er is the cus­tom of mak­ing them eat in their em­ploy­er's kitchen. These are mi­nor de­tails, per­haps, but nev­er­the­less they count for much in the lives of wom­en who earn their own liv­ing, and any­thing, how­ev­er small, that tends to raise one's self re­spect, is wor­thy of con­sid­er­ation. Per­haps, too, while the word “ser­vant” (a no­ble word enough in its his­to­ry and its moral con­no­ta­tion) car­ries with it a stig­ma, a sense of degra­da­tion, among the work­ing wom­en, it should be avoid­ed.

Briefly summed up, then, the present dis­ad­van­tages of house­work com­pared with work in fac­to­ries, stores, and of­fices, are as fol­lows:

En­forced sep­ara­tion from one's fam­ily. Loss of per­son­al free­dom. Lack of pro­mo­tion. Un­lim­it­ed hours of work. No day of rest each week. Non-​ob­ser­vance of le­gal hol­idays. Loss of caste.

In the present com­par­ison of house­work with work in fac­to­ries, stores, and of­fices, a recital of the ad­van­tages of do­mes­tic ser­vice, even un­der the present method of house­keep­ing, must not be omit­ted, for such ad­van­tages are im­por­tant, al­though un­for­tu­nate­ly they do not out­weigh the present dis­ad­van­tages.

To the wom­an whose home ties have been dis­rupt­ed by death or dis­cord, and to the new­ly ar­rived im­mi­grant es­pe­cial­ly, house­work is a great boon, inas­much as be­sides good wages, all meals and a room to sleep in are giv­en her. More­over house­work is the on­ly form of la­bor where un­skilled work can com­mand high wages. This, how­ev­er, is much more for­tu­nate for the em­ploy­ee than for her em­ploy­er.

House­work in it­self is cer­tain­ly _not worse_ than any oth­er kind of man­ual work in which wom­en are en­gaged; it is of­ten more in­ter­est­ing and less fa­tigu­ing. It al­so helps a wom­an more than any oth­er oc­cu­pa­tion to pre­pare her­self for her nat­ural sphere of life:--that of the home mak­er. A girl who has spent sev­er­al years in a well or­dered fam­ily help­ing to do the house­work, is far bet­ter fit­ted to run her own home in­tel­li­gent­ly and on eco­nom­ic lines than a girl who has spent the same num­ber of years be­hind a counter, or work­ing in a fac­to­ry or an of­fice.

Again, work in a pri­vate house is in­finite­ly more de­sir­able, from the point of view of the in­flu­ence of one's sur­round­ings, than dai­ly la­bor in a fac­to­ry or store. The va­ri­ety of do­mes­tic du­ties, the free­dom of mov­ing about from one room to an­oth­er, of sit­ting or stand­ing to do one's work, are much to be pre­ferred to the work that com­pels the work­er to stand or sit in one place all day long.

If it be ad­mit­ted, then, that house­work is in it­self a de­sir­able and suit­able oc­cu­pa­tion for wom­en who must earn their liv­ing by man­ual la­bor, it can not be the work it­self, but the con­di­tions sur­round­ing it that make it so dis­taste­ful to the mod­ern work­ing wom­an.