• « #Care » : comment l’étude du #travail_domestique permet de réécrire l’histoire

    La notion de care s’est imposée dans le langage courant et politique pour qualifier l’ensemble des activités – rémunérées ou non – qui consistent à prendre soin des autres et de leur cadre de vie ; à assurer le « #travail_reproductif » et non seulement « productif ». Cela recouvre notamment les métiers ou pratiques sociales d’#aide_à_la_personne, les secteurs infirmiers ou médicaux, ou encore un grand nombre de tâches dites « domestiques ».

    Les économistes féministes se sont depuis longtemps approprié cette notion pour mettre en valeur des formes de travail exercées par les #femmes et non reconnues socialement et dans les #statistiques économiques, en particulier le #travail_domestique_non_rémunéré. Il ne s’agit pas d’essentialiser des différences entre hommes et femmes mais au contraire de partir du principe que rendre visibles toutes les formes de travail est une étape nécessaire vers l’#égalité, la #reconnaissance_sociale et économique et le partage de ces tâches.

    En outre, alors que les mutations sociales et technologiques du XXe siècle ont diminué le temps de travail consacré au care et les tâches domestiques, il est probable que le vieillissement de la population inverse cette tendance. Il implique en particulier une augmentation de la demande de soin et d’aide à la personne, pratiques qui peuvent être rémunérées ou non, reposant dans ce dernier cas sur des liens familiaux ou amicaux.

    La loi de 2019 sur les congés de proche aidant et les discussions récurrentes sur les pénuries de personnel pour l’aide à domicile montrent combien nos sociétés se préparent – encore trop lentement et difficilement – aux mutations économiques et sociales causées par le vieillissement.

    #Valorisation_monétaire du travail domestique

    Il y a évidemment un débat au sein des économistes quant à l’opportunité de compter le travail de care domestique qui n’apparaît pas dans les statistiques officielles et donc de lui donner une #valeur_monétaire. Outre les difficultés méthodologiques de cette quantification, la question est de savoir si valoriser les pratiques non rémunérées comme un travail salarié ne va pas à l’encontre de l’éthique du care en mettant sur le même plan des formes de travail non équivalentes.

    La réponse que les économistes féministes apportent à cette question est que la construction de statistiques et la valorisation monétaire est aujourd’hui le meilleur moyen de montrer l’ampleur du #travail_féminin et la persistance des inégalités entre femmes et hommes au sein du ménage hétérosexuel (voir le récent résumé de Nancy Folbre présentant ces arguments et la recherche dans ce domaine, dont la première contribution remonte à l’ouvrage de Margaret Reid, Economics of household production, publié en… 1934).

    Depuis #Margaret_Reid, et encore plus depuis la réappropriation du concept de care en économie dans les années 1980 et 1990, notamment par Nancy Folbre, les économistes ont donc tenté de quantifier le travail domestique, dans le passé quasi-essentiellement exercé par les femmes. L’objectif est de voir comment cette comptabilisation change notre vision du #développement_économique, habituellement mesuré par des salaires et le temps de travail masculins, puis par le #produit_intérieur_brut, qui exclut les tâches domestiques.

    Il existe des tentatives actuelles pour inclure les estimations du travail domestique dans le #PIB, mais seule l’histoire économique permet de prendre la mesure du #biais que l’absence de prise en compte du travail féminin dans les statistiques cause à nos représentations du développement économique.

    Dans un article récemment paru dans le Journal of Economic History, « Careworn : The Economic History of Caring Labor » (https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/journal-of-economic-history/article/careworn-the-economic-history-of-caring-labor/68D8EDEB50DCF2AB012433755741108B), la professeure d’histoire économique Jane Humphries cherche à produire une telle estimation pour l’Angleterre sur très longue période, de 1270 à 1860. Ses précédentes recherches ont déjà révolutionné l’#histoire_économique en montrant comment la prise en compte du travail des enfants, puis la construction de séries de salaire des femmes, changeaient le récit traditionnel de la révolution industrielle du XIXe siècle.

    Humphries commence par rappeler le paradoxe des recherches actuelles d’histoire économique quantitative qui ont entrepris de calculer des séries de PIB, de niveau de vie et de prix depuis le Moyen-Âge (voir notamment les travaux de #Robert_Allen et #Stephen_Broadberry). Le calcul d’évolution des prix repose en effet sur la définition d’un panier de biens représentatif de la consommation de base (viande, lait, céréales etc.). Mais l’essentiel du travail des femmes nécessaire pour transformer ces biens de base en consommation domestique, nécessaire pour soutenir le travail rémunéré de l’homme du foyer, n’est pas pris en compte dans les statistiques de production !

    Soutien au travail de l’homme salarié

    Elle rappelle aussi les nombreuses heures nécessaires pour maintenir l’#hygiène dans un foyer, avant la généralisation de l’eau courante et des sanitaires au XXe siècle. Rassemblant de nombreuses sources d’origine et fréquence différentes sur le temps de travail domestique et sur le #salaire horaire de ce travail lorsqu’il était rémunéré, Humphries tente de calculer la valeur totale du travail domestique qui était nécessaire pour qu’un foyer puisse subsister, permettant à l’homme de s’en absenter pour travailler au-dehors.

    Même ses estimations les plus basses montrent qu’au moins 20 % de la production totale de valeur (ce que nous appelons aujourd’hui PIB) était consacrée aux #tâches_domestiques – et sont donc absentes de nos mesures habituelles Et si ce chiffre n’était pas plus important dans le passé qu’aujourd’hui, c’est que l’autrice valorise le travail féminin au prix du salaire des femmes de l’époque, qui était très inférieur à celui des hommes.

    Notons que l’article ne quantifie que les tâches domestiques liées à la consommation et l’entretien du foyer ; l’autrice souligne qu’elle n’a pas quantifié ce qui touche au « travail reproductif », en particulier la mise au monde et l’allaitement des enfants.

    Mais la professeure d’histoire économique s’intéresse ici davantage à l’évolution du coût et temps du travail domestique – relativement au #travail_salarié – au cours des siècles. Elle remarque en particulier une forte augmentation du travail domestique, et de sa valeur relative, lors de la « révolution industrieuse » du XVIIIe siècle, précédant la « révolution industrielle » du XIXe siècle.

    Regard biaisé sur l’économie

    A la suite des travaux de #Jan_de_Vries, on parle de « #révolution_industrieuse » pour caractériser l’augmentation du temps de travail (en termes de nombre d’heures salariées) causée par la nécessité de maintenir ou accroître le niveau de consommation du ménage. De manière cohérente avec le fait que la révolution industrieuse coïncidait avec une diversification et multiplication des biens de consommation, Humphries montre que le travail domestique nécessaire pour soutenir le travail de l’homme salarié augmentait en même temps que ce dernier.

    Plus les ménages avaient accès à de nouveaux produits (tissus, sucre, viande, thé etc.), plus les femmes devaient travailler pour que les hommes puissent les consommer et en profiter. Pour les femmes mariées, conclut-elle, la « révolution industrieuse » n’a pas coïncidé avec une augmentation du travail salarié mais a pris une forme domestique, obscurcissant ainsi encore plus la contribution des femmes à la #croissance_économique et l’amélioration du niveau de vie.

    Rappelons, comme Humphries elle-même, la fragilité de ces premières estimations qui reposent sur des sources incomplètes et des hypothèses statistiques fortes.

    Toutefois, ce travail a le mérite de mettre à nouveau en lumière combien notre regard sur l’histoire économique est biaisé si nous ne réalisons pas que l’activité économique mesurée au cours du temps (par les statistiques de prix, salaires et production) ne pouvait s’accomplir que parce qu’elle était rendue possible par le travail domestique des femmes. Celui-ci était pourtant invisible dans les statistiques de population ou de production qui devinrent au XIXe siècle un nouveau pilier de la gestion des Etats modernes et de la compréhension de l’économie.

    https://www.alternatives-economiques.fr/eric-monnet/care-letude-travail-domestique-permet-de-reecrire-lhi/00112088
    #rémunération #invisibilisation #économie #économie_féministe #quantification #rémunération #salaire

    • Care Provision and the Boundaries of Production

      Whether or not they provide subjective satisfaction to providers, unpaid services and non-market transfers typically contribute positively to total output, living standards, and the social climate. This essay describes some quantitative dimensions of care provision and reviews their implications for the measurement of economic growth and the explanation of relative earnings, including the gender wage differential. It also calls attention to under-explored aspects of collective conflict over legal rules and public policies that shape the distribution of the net costs of care provision.

      https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.38.1.201

  • Peut-on être féministe et engager une femme de ménage ?

    Quand on se libère de nos tâches domestiques, à qui incombent-elles ? La question — et, surtout, la réponse – m’a fait faire de l’insomnie.

    C’est la faute de #Caroline_Dawson. Dans son magnifique premier roman, Là où je me terre (Éditions du remue-ménage), la professeure de sociologie raconte l’immigration canadienne d’une famille qui fuit le Chili de Pinochet. Si chacun des chapitres m’a happée, ce sont les passages au sujet de la mère, une femme de ménage, qui m’ont le plus bouleversée.

    https://www.lapresse.ca/maison/chroniques/2021-09-25/peut-on-etre-feministe-et-engager-une-femme-de-menage.php
    #féminisme #femmes_de_ménage #ménage #tâches_domestiques #femmes

    • Là où je me terre

      Valparaíso, décembre 1986, tremblement de terre entre les quatre murs d’une maison. Un homme et une femme annoncent à leurs enfants qu’il faut tout laisser derrière et fuir le Chili de Pinochet. C’est Noël, la petite Caroline a sept ans et elle aura la nausée durant tout le voyage.

      La fillette atterrit à Montréal. En plus de la neige dehors, il y a le tapis rouge vin de l’hôtel Ramada qui accueille les personnes réfugiées en attente de papiers. Il y a aussi Passe-Partout qui semble s’adresser à elle à travers le téléviseur. Après le premier appartement à Montréal-Nord, la classe d’accueil de madame Thérèse qui lui apprend le français, les enfants qui se moquent de ses cheveux et de sa boîte à lunch, la misère des rues d’Hochelaga, il y aura tout ce temps passé dans les banques où ses parents font des ménages. Entre l’exil, les fantômes du passé et le jeu des différences, la petite Caroline camouflera sa furieuse envie de vivre pour ne plus détonner et devenir une immigrante modèle.

      Mais comment apprend-on à ne plus s’effacer ? Peut-on embrasser une nouvelle culture sans renier ses origines ? Lumineux et vivant, Là où je me terre sonde la possibilité d’aimer et de lutter sans ne plus avoir à fuir.

      https://www.editions-rm.ca/livres/la-ou-je-me-terre

      #livre

    • D’ailleurs, pourquoi est-ce aux femmes de réfléchir à ces questions ? Pourquoi mes amies et moi,on se questionne là-dessus, mais aucun des chums du groupe ne le fait ? Comme si c’était aux femmes de nettoyer et que, lorsqu’elles ne pouvaient pas y arriver, c’était à elles de gérer la culpabilité qui vient avec l’embauche de quelqu’un…

      Caroline Dawson, autrice de Là où je me terre

      Ca me rappel un homme qui m’expliquait fièrement que la personne qui fait son ménage etait un homme de ménage. C’est certes l’expression d’une recherche de sortir des stéréotypes sexistes autour du ménage mais en même temps c’est un revenu qu’une femme n’aura pas et qu’un homme aura. Ca fait que ca me chiffonnait quand même. C’était un homme célibataire à l’époque, alors il s’occupait de son personnel de ménage lui même, mais une fois en couple c’est Mme qui a pris ces choses là en charge.

      A une époque j’ai demandé à mon ex qui employait une femme de ménage, de me payé ce qu’il donnait à sa femme de ménage pour que je fasse le travail, ca m’aurait fait un peu d’argent et je n’aurais pas été dérangé pendant mon travail par la présence d’une inconnue. Il n’a jamais accepté. L’idée lui semblait comique. Pourtant il acceptait de payé une inconnue pour faire ce travail, et donc il reconnaissait que c’etait bien un travail, mais moi je devait le faire gratos sans aucune limite d’horaires, juste par amour.

    • Je dirait que c’est plus que souvent qu’on nous présente cette malédiction pivot de l’oppression, comme un truc souhaitable pour les femmes. J’ai pas lu le livre de Mona, seulement écouté quelques entretiens mais je ne pense pas que je lirait celui là. « Réinventer l’amour » ca me fait un peu comme si je devait « réinventer la servitude ». En tant que mégère je préférè inventer le désamour.

    • @mad_meg Je comprends :)

      Mais j’essaie de voir à quelles conditions on pourrait sortir de la servitude justement. A cette occasion j’ai découvert « Love Actually » que je n’avais jamais vu. L’une des histoires racontées dans le film est celle d’un écrivain anglais qui tombe amoureux de son employée de maison portugaise et qui l’épouse. Ce qui veut dire qu’elle va continuer à faire le même travail, mais sans être payée... So romantic !

      Par ailleurs je n’en peux plus des termes dans lesquels ce problème est posé, en gros : « ces odieuses féministes blanches et riches qui se libèrent en se déchargeant du travail domestique sur des femmes pauvres et racisées ». Alors que souvent ces féministes vivent avec un homme. Mais lui n’est accusé d’exploiter personne, personne n’envisage que le travail ménager puisse être aussi le sien et que lui aussi s’en décharge sur une femme pauvre.

    • à paraître fin octobre aux éditions divergences La volonté de changer - les hommes, la masculinité et l’amour - Bell Hooks
      https://www.editionsdivergences.com/livre/la-volonte-de-changer-les-hommes-la-masculinite-et-lamour

      Si pour beaucoup d’hommes, le féminisme est une affaire de femmes, Bell Hooks s’attelle ici à démontrer le contraire. La culture patriarcale, pour fabriquer de « vrais hommes », exige d’eux un sacrifice. Malgré les avantages et le rôle de premier choix dont ils bénéficient, ces derniers doivent se faire violence et violenter leurs proches pour devenir des dominants, mutilant par là-même leur vie affective. La volonté de changer est un des premiers ouvrages féministes à poser clairement la question de la masculinité. En abordant les préoccupations les plus courantes des hommes, de la peur de l’intimité au malheur amoureux, en passant par l’injonction au travail, à la virilité et à la performance sexuelle, #Bell_Hooks donne un aperçu saisissant de ce que pourrait être une masculinité libérée, donc féministe.

  • ‘I feel like a 1950s housewife’ : how lockdown has exposed the gender divide | World news | The Guardian
    https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/may/03/i-feel-like-a-1950s-housewife-how-lockdown-has-exposed-the-gender-divid

    It doesn’t matter whether a woman is working from home, working outside the home or not working at all: the research reveals she is typically spending at least an extra hour-and-a-half on childcare and home schooling every day, compared to the average man in the same circumstances.

    The research, carried out by economists from the universities of Cambridge, Oxford and Zurich between 9 and 14 April, indicates that a woman who is at home – whether or not she is formally working – is affected by this gender divide. Both employed and unemployed mothers are typically spending around six hours providing childcare and home schooling every working day. By contrast, the average father at home is only spending a little over four hours on childcare and homeschooling each working day, regardless of his employment status.

    “Whatever situation you have, on average it’s the woman doing more, and it’s not because she’s working less” says Dr Christopher Rauh, an economist at Cambridge University.

    The gender divide is even larger in high-income households.

    At the same time, there is evidence that women’s contributions outside the home are decreasing. There has been a drop in the number of solo-authored academic papers submitted by women, while submissions by male academics have increased. Similarly, at the Philosophy Foundation, the majority of the organisation’s work is now being carried out by men. “This is because most of our female philosophers are having to focus on childcare and home education” says co-CEO Emma Worley.

    cc @cdb_77
    #travailleuses #travail_gratuit #couple #famille

  • Watching the clothes dry: How life in Greece’s refugee camps is changing family roles and expectations

    On the Greek Islands where refugees face long waiting times and a lack of adequate facilities, women are being pushed to the margins of camp society as children are deprived of education and safe places to play. While governments and the EU fail to provide satisfactory support, and NGOs fight to fill the gaps, how can we stop a generation of women and girls with high hopes of independence and careers from being forced back into domestic roles?

    “The days here are as long as a year.

    “In the camp I have to wash my clothes and dishes with cold water in the cold winter, and I have to watch my clothes dry because I lost almost all of my dresses and clothes after hanging them up.

    “As a woman I have to do these jobs – I mean because I am supposed to do them.”

    The boredom and hopelessness that Mariam* describes are, by now, common threads running through the messy, tragic tapestry of stories from the so called “migrant crisis” in Greece.

    Mariam is from Afghanistan, and had been studying business at university in Kabul, before increasing violence and threats from the Taliban meant that she was forced to flee the country with her husband. Soon after I met her, I began to notice that life in camp was throwing two distinct concepts of herself into conflict: one, as a young woman, ambitious to study and start a career, and the other, as a female asylum seeker in a camp with appallingly few facilities, and little freedom.

    While Mariam felt driven to continue her studies and love of reading, she could not escape the daily domestic chores in camp, a burden placed particularly on her because of her gender. I was familiar with Mariam the student: while managing the Alpha Centre, an activity centre run by Samos Volunteers, I would often come across Mariam sitting in a quiet spot, her head bent over a book for hours, or sitting diligently in language classes.

    The other side of her was one I rarely saw, but it was a life which dominated Mariam’s camp existence: hours and hours of her days spent cooking, cleaning, mending clothes, queuing for food, washing dishes, washing clothes, watching them dry.
    Women as caregivers

    Mariam’s experience of boredom and hardship in the camp on Samos is, unfortunately, not uncommon for any person living in the overcrowded and squalid facilities on the Greek islands.

    Many, many reports have been made, by newspapers, by Human Rights organisations such as Amnesty International, and NGOs such as Medécins Sans Frontières (MSF). All of them speak, to varying degrees, of the crushing boredom and despair faced by asylum-seekers in Greece, the dreadful conditions and lack of resources, and the mental health implications of living in such a situation. MSF describes the suffering on the Aegean islands as being on an “overwhelming scale.”

    While these issues apply indiscriminately to anyone enduring life in the island camps – and this undoubtedly includes men – there have been reports highlighting the particular hardships that women such as Mariam have to face while seeking asylum in Greece. In a 2018 report, “Uprooted women in Greece speak out,” Amnesty International comments on the additional pressures many women face in camp:

    The lack of facilities and the poor conditions in camps place a particularly heavy burden on women who often shoulder the majority of care responsibilities for children and other relatives. The psychological impact of prolonged stays in camps is profound. Women spoke of their anxiety, nightmares, lack of sleep and depression.

    The article recognises how much more likely women are than men to take on a caregiving role, an issue that is not unique to asylum-seeking populations. According to a report titled ‘Women’s Work’ released in 2016 by the Overseas Development Institute, women globally do on average over three times more unpaid work than men – work including childcare and domestic chores. This is across both ‘developed’ and ‘developing’ countries, and demonstrates inequality on a scale far beyond refugee and migrant populations.

    However, as Amnesty points out, it is not the perceived roles themselves which are the issue, but rather the glaring lack of facilities in camps – such as lack of food, ‘horrific’ sanitary conditions, and poor or non-existent washing facilities, as well as significant lack of access to education for children, and waiting times of up to two years. All of these factors exacerbate the gender divides which may or may not have been prevalent in the first place.

    The expectation for women to be primary caregivers was something I particularly noticed when running women’s activities on Samos. There was a stark difference between the daily classes – which would fill up with men attending alone, as agents distinct from their families in camp – and the women-only sessions, where accompanying children were almost always expected, and had to be considered in every session plan.

    The particular burden that I noticed so starkly in Mariam and many other women, was a constant battle to not be pushed to the margins of a society, which she desperately wanted to participate in, but had no opportunity to do so.

    Beyond lack of opportunities, many women speak of their great fear for themselves and their children in camp. Not only does a lack of facilities make life harder for people on the move, it also makes it incredibly dangerous in many ways, putting the most vulnerable at a severe disadvantage. This issue is particularly grave on Samos, where the camp only has one official doctor, one toilet per 70 people, and a gross lack of women-only bathrooms. This, alongside a volatile and violent environment – which is particularly dangerous at night – culminates in a widespread, and well-founded fear of violence.

    In an interview with Humans of Samos, Sawsan, a young woman from Syria, tells of the agonising kidney stones she experienced but was unable to treat, for fear of going to the toilet at night. “The doctor told me you need to drink a lot of water, but I can’t drink a lot of water, I am afraid to go outside in the night, is very dangerous,” she explained to my colleague.

    As Amnesty International reported last year, “women’s rights are being violated on a daily basis” in the Greek island hotspots. Their report features a list of ten demands from refugee women in Greece, including “full access to services,” “safe female only spaces,” and “livelihood opportunities.” All of these demands not only demonstrate a clear lack of such services currently, but also a real need and desire for the means to change their lives, as expressed by the women themselves.

    I remember the effect of this environment on Mariam, and the intense frustration she expressed at being forced to live an existence that she had not chosen. I have a vivid memory of sitting with her on a quiet afternoon in the centre: she was showing me photos on her phone of her and her friends at university in in Kabul. The photos were relatively recent but seemed another world away. I remember her looking up from the phone and telling me wearily, “life is so unexpected.”

    I remember her showing me the calluses on her hands, earned by washing her and her husband’s clothes in cold water; her gesturing in exasperation towards the camp beyond the walls of the centre. She never thought she’d be in this position, she told me, performing never ending domestic chores, while waiting out her days for an unknown life.

    Stolen childhoods

    Beyond speaking of their own difficulties, many people I approached told me of their intense concern for the children living in camps across Greece. As Mariam put it, “this situation snatches their childhoods by taking away their actual right to be children” – in many inhumane and degrading ways. And, as highlighted above, when children are affected, women are then far more likely to be impacted as a result, creating a calamitous domino effect among the most vulnerable.

    I also spoke to Abdul* from Iraq who said:

    The camp is a terrible place for children because they are used to going out playing, visiting their friends and relatives in the neighbourhood, and going to school but in the camp there is nothing. They can’t even play, and the environment is horrible.”

    Many asylum-seeking children do not have access to education in Greece. This is despite the government recognising the right of all children to access education, regardless of their status in a country, and even if they lack paperwork.

    UNHCR recently described educational opportunities for the 3,050 5-17 year olds living on Greece’s islands, as “slim.” They estimate that “most have missed between one and four years of school as a result of war and forced displacement” – and they continue to miss out as a result of life on the islands.

    There are several reasons why so many children are out of school, but Greek and EU policies are largely to blame. Based mistakenly on the grounds that people will only reside on the islands for brief periods before either being returned to Turkey or transferred to the mainland, the policies do not prioritise education. The reality of the situation is that many children end up waiting for months in the island camps before being moved, and during this time, have no access to formal education, subsequently losing their rights to play, learn, develop and integrate in a new society.

    In place of formal schooling, many children in camps rely on informal education and psychosocial activities provided by NGOs and grassroots organisations. While generally doing a commendable job in filling the numerous gaps, these provisions can sometimes be sporadic, and can depend on funding as well as groups being given access to camps and shelters.

    And while small organisations try their best to plug gaps in a faulty system, there will always, unfortunately, be children left behind. The ultimate result of Greek and EU policy is that the majority of children are spending months in limbo without education, waiting out their days in an unsafe and unstable environment.

    This not only deprives children of formative months, and sometimes years, of education and development, it can also put them at risk of exploitation and abuse. Reports by the RSA and Save the Children state that refugee children are at much higher risk of exploitation when they are out of school. Save the Children highlight that, particularly for Syrian refugee girls, “a lack of access to education is contributing to sexual exploitation, harassment, domestic violence and a significant rise in forced marriages”.

    There have also been numerous cases of children – often unaccompanied teenage boys – being forced into “survival sex,” selling sex to older, predatory men, for as little as €15 or even less, just in order to get by. The issue has been particularly prevalent in Greece’s major cities, Athens and Thessaloniki.

    While all children suffer in this situation, unaccompanied minors are especially at risk. The state has particular responsibilities to provide for unaccompanied and separated children under international guidelines, yet children in Greece, especially on Samos, are being failed. The failings are across the board, through lack of education, lack of psychological support, lack of appropriate guardians, and lack of adequate housing – many children are often placed in camps rather than in external shelters.

    This is a particular issue on Samos, as the designated area for unaccompanied minors in the reception centre, was not guarded at all until recently, and is regularly subject to chaos and violence from other camp residents, visitors or even police.

    Many refugee children in Greece are also at risk of violence not only as a result of state inactions, but at the hands of the state itself. Children are often subject to violent – and illegal – pushbacks at Greece’s border with Turkey.

    There have been multiple accounts of police beating migrants and confiscating belongings at the Evros river border, with one woman reporting that Greek authorities “took away her two young children’s shoes” in order to deter them from continuing their journey.

    The Council of Europe’s Committee for the Prevention of Torture and Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment (CPT) spoke out earlier this year, criticising treatment in Greek camps and detention facilities, stating that conditions were “inhuman and degrading.” They have called for an end to the detention of children with adults in police facilities, as well as the housing of unaccompanied minors in reception and identification centres, such as the hotspot on Samos.

    Smaller organisations are also making their voices heard: Still I Rise, a young NGO on Samos providing education for refugee children, has just filed a lawsuit against the camp management at the refugee hotspot, for their ill treatment of unaccompanied minors. The organisation states:

    We are in a unique position to witness the inhumane living conditions and experiences of our students in the refugee hotspot. With the support of Help Refugees, we gathered evidence, wrote affidavits, and build a class action on behalf of all the unaccompanied minors past and present who suffered abuse in the camp.

    After witnessing the many failings of the camp management to protect the unaccompanied minors, the NGO decided to take matters into their own hands, raising up the voices of their students, students whose childhoods have been stolen from them as they flee war and persecution.
    “Without love I would give up”

    Every day on Samos, I worked with people who were battling the ever-consuming crush of hardship and boredom. People came to the activity centre to overcome it, through learning languages, reading, socialising, exercising, teaching and volunteering. They demonstrated amazing commitment and perseverance, and this should not be forgotten in the face of everything discussed so far.

    Nadine*, a young woman from Cameroon whose help at the centre became invaluable, told me that she ‘always’ feels bored, and that “the worst is a closed camp,” but that she has managed to survive by teaching:

    I teach the alphabet and sounds, letters for them to be able to read. I teach adult beginners, it’s not easy because some of them didn’t go to school and they are not able to write in their own language. So it’s hard work, patience and love because without love I would give up.”

    The perseverance demonstrated by Nadine, Mariam, and other women like them, is extraordinary. This is not only considering the challenges they had to confront before even reaching Greece, but in the face of such adversity once reaching the EU.

    Those refugees who are most vulnerable – particularly women and children, but also the silent voices of this article, those who are disabled, LGBTQ+ or otherwise a minority – are being pushed to the margins of society by the despicable policies and practices being inflicted on migrants in Greece. Refugees and migrants are being forced to endure immense suffering simply for asking for a place of safety.

    Yet despite everything, even those at the most disadvantage are continuing to fight for their right to a future. And while I know that, especially in this climate, we need more than love alone, I hang onto Nadine’s words all the same: “without love I would give up.”

    https://lacuna.org.uk/migration/watching-the-clothes-dry-how-life-in-greeces-refugee-camps-is-changing-fa
    #femmes #asile #migrations #réfugiés #rôles #Samos #Grèce #attente #tâches_domestique #lessive #marges #marginalisation #ennui #désespoir #détressse #déqualification #camps #camps_de_réfugiés #liberté #genre #cuisine #soins #caregiver #santé_mentale #fardeau

    #cpa_camps

  • L’ordre divin

    Nora est une jeune mère au foyer. En 1971, elle vit avec son mari et ses deux fils dans un paisible village suisse où l’on a peu senti les bouleversements du mouvement de 68. Pourtant, la paix dans les chaumières et dans son foyer commence à vaciller quand Nora se lance dans le combat pour le suffrage féminin...

    « L’ordre divin » est le premier long-métrage de fiction sur le #droit_de_vote des femmes en Suisse et son introduction tardive en 1971. La scénariste et réalisatrice #Petra_Volpe (scénario de « Heidi ») invite le public à plonger dans l’atmosphère et les émotions de la Suisse rurale des années 70, une période riche en changements. « #L'ordre_divin » est un hommage à toutes les personnes qui se sont battues à l’époque pour l’égalité des droits politiques et toutes celles et ceux qui s’engagent aujourd’hui pour l’égalité des sexes et l’autodétermination.


    http://www.filmcoopi.ch/filmreel-ordre-fr_CH.html
    #film #suisse #féminisme #histoire #politique #égalité

  • High-earning women do more housework
    http://mamie-caro.tumblr.com/post/150345579989/in-families-with-children-in-which-both-spouses

    In families with children in which both spouses work fulltime, women do about twice as much child care and housework as men – the notorious ‘second shift’ described by sociologist Arlie Hochschild in her classic book of that name.2 You might think that, even if this isn’t quite fair, it’s nonetheless rational. When one person earns more than the other then he (most likely) enjoys greater bargaining power at the trade union negotiations that, for some, become their marriage. Certainly, in line with this unromantic logic, as a woman’s financial contribution approaches that of her husband’s, her housework decreases. It doesn’t actually become equitable, you understand. Just less unequal. But only up to the point at which her earnings equal his. After that – when she starts to earn more than him – something very curious starts to happen. The more she earns, the more housework she does.3 In what sociologist Sampson Lee Blair has described as the ‘sadly comic data’ from his research, ‘where she has a job and he doesn’t … even then you find the wife doing the majority of the housework.’

    … If you are somehow sceptical of the notion that high-earning women do more housework because of an internal drive to maintain the highest possible oxytocin levels, while unemployed husbands carefully protect their own physiological state by giving the laundry pile a wide berth, or are simply neurally less capable of sensing it, then sociologists have an alternative explanation that you may find more satisfying. They refer to this curious phenomenon as ‘gender deviance neutralisation’.7 Spouses work together to counteract the discomfort created when a woman breaks the traditional marital contract by taking on the primary breadwinning role. A fascinating interview study conducted by sociologist Veronica Tichenor revealed the psychological work that both husbands and their higher-earning wives perform to continue to ‘do gender’ more conventionally within their marriage, despite their unconventional situations. For example, as predicted by the quantitative surveys, most of the higher-earning wives also reported doing the ‘vast majority’ of both domestic labour and childrearing. Sometimes this was resented and a point of contention. But others seemed to ‘embrace domestic labour as a way of presenting themselves as good wives.’ As Tichenor points out, what this means is that ‘cultural expectations of what it means to be a good wife shape the domestic negotiations of unconventional earners and produce arrangements that privilege husbands and further burden wives.’

    Tichenor also surmised that in decision making the women were deferring to their husbands in ‘very self-conscious ways’ because they didn’t want to be seen as powerful, dominating, or emasculating. The couples also redefined the meaning of ‘provider’ so that the men could still fall within the definition. While in the conventional couples the provider was the person who brought home the biggest paycheque, among the other couples the men’s management of the family finances, and other noneconomic contributions, were considered part of providing. Thus it was that Bonnie, earning $114,000 a year and married to a man earning $3000, could nonetheless argue that they were ‘both providers’. Interestingly, these women were often very aware that their greater income didn’t bring them the same power within the relationship as it would a man in a more conventional marriage.

    #femmes #travail #domination_masculine #tâches_domestiques