Guest Post: Feminism and the Glass Ceiling

When I started my new job three years ago, the author of this post and I quickly discovered that we were very alike – we both consider ourselves feminists, we both work very hard to do a good job teaching, we both work outside of teaching as well, and over the years, we’ve both faced major life changes at around the same time – she both got married and had her first child within the past year and a half.  We have spent many hours discussing the work-life balance as well as feminism and relationships, and I’ve often thought she should write a guest post for me.  So when she sent me this piece as an example of a literacy narrative she wrote for her students, I managed to convince her to let me post it here, and I’m really excited about it.  I imagine many of you can relate to these words – we all struggle between our jobs, our relationships, our writing, our hobbies.  This is, honestly, the best, most eloquent, most real article on the subject I’ve ever read.  As you sit there, reading, nodding to yourself because you understand her drive and ambition, think about how you relate to this post; we’d both love to hear your comments!

They say the glass ceiling is still in existence; women just do not stand a chance when it comes to earning as much money as men. I say I was born to break through the glass ceiling that American society has placed over my head. Unfortunately, this desire to shatter the norm has come at a pretty steep cost.

I grew up in a middle class family that held working class values, a fact that I feel makes my story more applicable to many. Early on, I decided I did not care about grades; rather, I went through school for the purpose of socializing. The led my parents to believe I was irresponsible and lazy; they obviously had not met me yet. It was actually my desire to socialize, and buy Abercrombie and Fitch clothes, that led me to my first job at Dairy Queen. Slowly, but surely, a workaholic monster began to take shape.

From Dairy Queen, I had a brief stint at JC Penny and Boston Market, both higher paying jobs that just were not right for me. After my few month hiatus from ice cream, it was after all the winter, I was hired back to Dairy Queen. I had a problem though, for I was also recently hired at Kreamy Delight, another, albeit tackily named, ice cream store that would provide me a much higher earning potential.  At sixteen, I made the decision to opt for Kreamy Delight and remained there for the next nine years.

Many things happened during that nine year period. I got a job as a babysitter that led to a long-term, in-home childcare position that lasted for six years. Concurrently, I also worked for a while at a tanning salon and as a legal secretary. All the while, I went to college full time and earned an Associate’s, Bachelor’s, and began a Master’s degree. While working on my Master’s, I began a teaching career and worked in various junior highs year-round. At twenty-three, I bought a fixer-upper that I used as an outlet to dump my money. Juggling the work was exhausting at times and left little room for what I originally set out to do: socialize.

At twenty-four, I got a job at the high school I attended. Early on in the school year, a problem quickly arose in that I realized I was serving some of my students and their families at the ice cream store regularly. The sacred barrier of separation that teachers strive for was obliterated by my decision to stick with the job that I had since I was my students’ age. I quit the ice cream store after. I was now faced with free time, which was a scary thing. I continued to take classes towards my Master’s and volunteer for any extra-curricular activity that came my way at the high school, but I still had more time off than ever before.

This change led to changes in the little personal life I had. I finally had time to realize that I was in a bad relationship and that I needed a break from graduate school.  I began cutting ties with my old self. I quickly made a new set of non-work friends, through a work friend but still. I soon after began dating a new guy, who I worked with but whatever.  I reestablished what was missed by being a workaholic: a life.

I would like to say this was a life changing experience, which it was, and that I was altered for forever, but that would be a lie. I finished that Master’s I started, and eventually, I started a new one. I married that guy I met at work, and my new friends were all my bridesmaids. Soon after, we had a child, which of course is a job in and of itself. Old habits die hard though and that underlying desire to make money was further fueled by my maternal instinct to provide for my child. I still teach at the same high school but also teach at a local junior college. I am also finishing up my second Master’s degree and am as overworked and overwhelmed as ever. Being a workaholic is part of who I am, part of the lazy and irresponsible kid my parents would have swore that they raised. I do come out of this all, however, with a better understanding of what having a life truly means and striving for the time when I will have broken through that glass ceiling and can live comfortably.

Schaller Manering is a teacher in the Chicagoland suburbs. She is married with a one year old son.

This was a guest post in a series on feminism and ______. If you’d like to submit a guest post for this series, see the guidelines here and submit your post to samsanator(at)gmail(dot)com.

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