When You Care: Introduction
"Why did nobody tell [us] it could be like this?"
Care work has always been a big part of what I’m thinking and writing about. We’re taking the rest of 2025 to read the beautiful and brave non-fiction book When You Care. We’re doing a chapter a month. If you care about care, grab the book and join in! -Amber.
“Caregiving was not, it turned out, an end—the parking of the car after a long and exciting journey. Instead, it’s been wild, a transcendent experience that has challenged me and enlightened me, while going straight to the heart of what it means to be human. It’s some of the truest intimacy I have ever known, an intimacy that has brought me closer to others, and, ultimately, myself. Why did nobody tell me it could be like this?”
-Elissa Strauss in the (amazing) intro of her book
March is over, which means if you’re joining us for slow book club you should have already read the Introduction of When You Care. I connected with Elissa the other day on Zoom, and it was so fun!
Here’s a summary1 of our conversation—
Amber and Elissa discussed the various types of motherhood books available, with Amber expressing her preference for Elissa's book, which she found to be a refreshing and meaningful representation of motherhood. They both agreed that there are two main camps of motherhood books: the Christian sentimental ones and the ones that focus on the negative aspects of motherhood. Elissa shared her personal experience of not fitting into either camp and her desire for a more inclusive conversation about motherhood. They both expressed a need for a more nuanced discussion about motherhood, acknowledging the complexity of the experience and the need to honor its depth and richness.
Elissa discusses her move to California eight years ago and her experience of becoming a mother in Brooklyn. Amber shares her connection to Elissa's book, particularly the idea of not wanting to lose oneself in motherhood and the desire to approach stay-at-home parenting in a feminist way. They discuss the shift in perspective from worrying about the challenges of caregiving to appreciating its value. The conversation touches on various books and movies related to motherhood, including Nightbitch, and the current zeitgeist surrounding motherhood narratives. Elissa reflects on her past writing, acknowledging that her earlier work often lacked nuance and focused on criticizing societal attitudes towards motherhood without offering a more positive perspective.
Elissa and Amber discussed the impact of motherhood on their personal and professional lives. Elissa shared how having children changed her perspective and writing, while Amber emphasized the need for a space where motherhood is recognized as a personal growth hack and not seen as a hindrance. They also touched on the societal pressure and expectations surrounding motherhood, particularly in liberal feminist culture. Amber expressed her appreciation for Elissa's openness and willingness to challenge these norms.
Amber and Elissa discussed the influence of the patriarchy2 on the perception of care and femininity. They agreed that mainstream feminism has often dismissed care as uninteresting and undervalued. Elissa suggested that early feminist movements prioritized equality with men, rather than valuing care and motherhood. Amber expressed frustration with some feminist voices who lack nuance in their views. They both acknowledged the need for a more inclusive and nuanced understanding of care and femininity.
Amber and Elissa discussed the importance of rebranding the idea of a “stay-at-home mom” and the need for cultural change to address the caregiving crisis. They agreed that it's essential to stop demonizing women who choose to step back from their careers for a few years to care for their children. Elissa emphasized the need for a shared investment in care, regardless of gender, and the importance of valuing caregiving as a meaningful activity. They also discussed their preferences for reading physical books and marking them up, with Elissa revealing her secret of being a Kindle reader.
(That last part, lol! The shame of being a Kindle reader!)
Such a great chat—we covered a lot of ground in half an hour! Full subscribers can access this video conversation in the “Resources” area of One Tired Mother. (Along the top menu. Let me know if you have any trouble!) Thank you so much for your support of my work!
Meanwhile, for anyone reading along, I’d love to hear about what resonated for you in the Introduction! There was so much there, wasn’t there?!—mine is marked up like crazy. I’m excited to hear your thoughts… share away in the comments!
Know people who are into thoughtful conversation about modern motherhood? Would love for them to join in the conversations here. Tell them about this Substack, will ya? :)
AI-generated. A little weird but… also helpful?
Me saying “Is it patriarchy?” I personally think that term is thrown around very casually in feminist discourse and I’m actually not all that into it. A whole other post. ;)
Sharing a few more reactions/thoughts I didn't address with Elissa in the video -
I loved the photo thing - she was talking about a popular stock photo choice of the search term "woman," a woman hiking alone on a mountain. She quoted an art director saying that the image feels like it's about power, freedom, and trusting oneself, then later she said this: "What I want is for someone to also describe a picture of a woman doing care as 'an image about power, about freedom, about trusting oneself.'" Yes!!
Loved this (p. 17): "I'd love to help more people value care and make the world a better place for caregivers, which must include giving them more dignity and support. I hope it speaks to the believers, the ones who, like me, have been stirred by their roles as caregivers but could use some help figuring it all out. And I hope it speaks to the skeptics and the haters, the people who just can't imagine that anything good could come out of care, as well as any partners and supervisors of caregivers who have the mistaken idea that time off to care for a dependent loved one is a vacation." Elissa, I was going to tell you this story but we didn't have time - once an acquaintance asked if I'd be interested in a job. I thought, oh, maybe part-time remote, something I can do alongside caring for my kids, cool thanks for thinking of me. Nope, upon further inquiry he meant full-time, on site. (And it was a job way below my qualifications as well.) It made me really upset. I'm WORKING. As a CAREGIVER. I'm not unemployed (or on vacation). Ugh!
I LOVED toward the end how she connected the loneliness crisis with the care crisis. I think that's so true. It's a societal prioritization of superficial things and a devaluing of love. Of relationship. "It's time to stop seeing caring for others as an obstacle to the good life and to start seeing it as an essential part of a meaningful one." (p. 21)
And this on interdependence toward the end - "Interdependence can feel suffocating--I know. Acknowledging how much we are needed by others, and how much we need others, goes against everything many of us have learned about the good life in the West. But eventually the gasping stops, the distance between the seemingly sublime and the seemingly mundane shrinks, and a slow-forming awareness settles in. We begin to see and feel the transformative power of care." (p. 23) This could be a description of new motherhood - it's SO MUCH at first. Our young children need us in a way that is, I think, really foreign to the way we generally think and live. But if you lean into it it's absolutely transforming - that's just the word for it. These paragraphs toward the end also reminded me of Leah Libresco Sargeant's upcoming book, The Dignity of Dependence which comes out this fall and hoooonestly might be our next book club read - can't wait for it.
I didn't get a chance to ask Elissa about this, but curious about anyone's thoughts (or yours, Elissa, if you'd like!) - she writes on p. 14 that caring for others is "often boring and depleting." Depleting, yes. Boring, I'm not so sure. I've found that caring for human beings is actually quite fascinating. Sure, it is boring at times, especially if you're more intellectually-oriented, as a lot of it is dealing with the most mundane realities of existence (eating, peeing/pooping, getting dressed, etc.). I wonder if we conceive of it as boring because... we've absorbed a message that it is? And maybe that because the work is invisible we don't get dopamine hits of applause for our achievements? It just kind of rubbed me the wrong way, because I think characterizing care work as boring is pretty aligned with the stereotypes of care workers as less than (they're doing care work because they're not that interesting or smart or ambitious). I think a lot of us fear "becoming boring" when we become mothers (I wrote about that and Elissa did say it too!), but I really think we need to push back on that. To me if you think I'm boring because I'm a caregiver that's a YOU problem! (Well, a culture problem really, but I just mean it's a perception problem.) I guess I was just surprised to see her plainly characterize care as boring when so much of her book illuminates the truth that care is actually interesting and complex and meaningful. Anyway, this was the only paragraph of the whole intro that I had a qualm with, for this reason and for others I won't go into right now but maybe in a future convo Elissa! :)
Ah, Amber, I'm excited for this book and the conversations it will inspire! I'm barely online enough right now to get a full comment written, but wanted to drop a few partly-expressed ideas here (perhaps for future discussion? or a voice note exchange? since that seems to be all the messaging I'm getting around to these days).
- "Feeding this crisis is the fact that we are spending more time alone than ever before, and as a result care, whether giving or receiving, has become a less organic part of our lives." I am struck by the effort I see required to engage in acts or habits of care prior to having one's own children. If you aren't well-connected within (read: born into) a pre-existing community, whether that be a close-knit church, a well-established long-term neighborhood, or a large and interwoven family, it takes significant effort to learn how care might be provided, or who might need to receive care. If you live alone, or in a small nuclear family engaged primarily outside the home... if the home is not the hub of relational energy... if there is disconnect between generations... if recreation primarily arises through device to human instead of between human and human... how many opportunities will there REALLY be to witness where care might be provided? and to then learn how to value and emulate those who care well?
- "[...] there is a relationship between the loneliness crisis and the crisis in care, two social illnesses with the same root cause." A disease of social ligament. A disease of relationship.
- "Humans used to be surrounded by more people, family and nonfamily. They used to be more invested in community [...]" I was struck by the use of the word "invest" in context of relationship and since reading it I have been noticing it everywhere. "Invest in our children", "invest in our relationship", "invest in romantic connection". I might be unduly prone to look towards the industrial revolution as responsible for reframing our understanding of relationship, but it seems to me the emphasis on manufacturing and acquisition/production has become especially entrenched in modern relationship, especially as it applies to those relationships which necessitate caregiving. That choice word "invest" implies measurable return. What return can be measured on a caregiving relationship which will end in death? or which is deeply imbalanced in reciprocity across years? or which sustains the life of someone who will never have the capacity to provide any measurable return? I wonder what would happen if that word "invest" were replaced with "obligated to".
- "And, the biggest question of them all, why aren't men lining up around the block to get in on this very important job?" I'm interested in seeing how this thought is explored. I don't agree that men are avoiding or ignoring care work. I am inclined to believe men are experiencing a parallel devaluing of the forms of care that have generally been recognized as most meaningful and acclimated to the male psyche across centuries, and I'm also inclined to believe that the story of men not caring about care work (or not valuing it) is just that: a well-sold and oft-told story that fails to account for the reality of many men who are serving as the unseen foundation for many a human who would otherwise suffer or slip through the cracks of our social infrastructure.
There are more thoughts and more notes in my margins, but alas, no more time to write! You picked a good one, Amber.