Becoming a first-time parent was the most stand-out day of my life, which is kind of ironic given that men are so often defined by the work they do. Ask a man “So, what do you do?” and he’ll likely describe his profession. It’s unlikely he’ll say “I change soiled nappies!” even if he does.
I did so very little of the work to become a parent. Mum did all the work! It is striking how on the entry of a baby into the world, dad’s contribution is so limited. Maybe the world of professional success is the compensation for a man’s limited input in the reproduction domain: a big fish in the world of work, a tiny fish in the world of the womb!
Still, from the very beginning I was determined to be an involved dad even if Nature would have me standing by as a pretty helpless observer at the beginning of the event. I was all in – 100% committed to being the best father in the whole universe!
But what really forced me to assess my priorities was not the day that I became a father, but the day that I became a single father. Phew, now that was a challenge! Not only did I have a child to take care of, but it seemed that much of the world aligned with Nature in trying to make my role smaller than I thought it should be.
Single parenthood is tough on both mums and dads – but in different ways. Single mums are typically seen as a normal part of the demographic landscape. By way of sheer numbers throughout the years, single mums are viewed with far less suspicion and derision than they were decades ago.
Not so single dads. Single dads who are actively involved in parenting still represent a small proportion of separated homes. As a result they are less visible, and when they do appear on the public radar screen, it is often as ‘deadbeat dads’ who walk away from parental responsibilities, or ‘deranged dads’ who spray-paint over portraits of the Queen, break into Buckingham Palace dressed as Batman or climb Sydney Harbour Bridge.
But this is changing, and my book – The Other Glass Ceiling: Fathers Stepping Up, Mothers Letting Go – is about the new world order.
Becoming a parent, then a single parent, and then a step-parent, has taught me some interesting things. Perhaps one of the big insights was to see up close and personal the operation of sexism, the differentiation between gender that was unnecessary, artificial, contrived, exaggerated, and most importantly, damaging. It was quite an epiphany. I realised perhaps for the first time what it might feel like for women who suffer at the whims of unrealistic public expectations about what they can and cannot do, what they should and should not do.
Women are still confronted by the impossible expectations of being perfect mothers, while at the same time pursuing successful careers. The phrase ‘at the same time’ is critical here. There are, after all, only 24 hours in a day. If mums are busy being perfect parents, where do they find the time to pursue careers?
But this kind of thinking can hurt men too. Here, the problem is the expectation that fathers fulfil the ‘breadwinner’ role in the family. They are defined solely in terms of professional success. As parents dads are second best at best, and incompetent boobs at worst. Mums have too many roles in which they are expected to excel, and dads do not have enough roles in which they are expected to excel. While one challenge is to expand the role of women in professional life, the other challenge is to expand the role of men in domestic life.
In other words, to allow mums to break through one glass ceiling and allow dads to break through the other glass ceiling.
Charles Areni’s new book The Other Glass Ceiling: fathers stepping up, mothers letting go is being released today at the University of Sydney. It has been co-written with Stephen Holden from Bond University.