Do we need anything?

The young man sat opposite me on the tram – a tram full of weary, grimy commuters, anxious to get home for the night. It was around seven - later than usual for me. The man was 30, maybe more, besuited, a typical city worker, with a pleasant face and a heavy gold band on his finger.

It was nothing out of the ordinary. All he was doing was asking his partner (maybe a housemate, although the tone of his voice was intimate, tender) if they would like him to pick up any last minute supplies at the supermarket, maybe even the makings of a meal, or some take-away if they were both too weary too cook.

Nothing special about that. Partners the world around say it to each other most nights at the end of the working day. But I was struck by this simple line of his. I think it was the easy assumption that it was his job, as much as that of his partner (who, statistically speaking, was most likely female) to cater for the evening meal. Even more striking was the lack of assumption that his meal would be on the table the minute he walked in the door, or, at the very least, well on the way to being ready.

Girls and boys, it wasn’t always like this. Even twenty years ago, domestic chores weren’t shared much, even if male and female partners both worked. When I was growing up, I cannot think of a single family man who knew how to cook, clean or make domestic arrangements. The assumptions appeared absolute and universal. And then, among many people in Australia, change did begin to seep in, but for a while there was an awkwardness about it.

It wasn’t simply that this bloke asked the question, you understand, it was his tone of voice, which sounded as though this was a question he was used to asking. This is something that still surprises and delights me when I see men pushing prams, hefting baby slings and taking troops of meandering children to school/kinder/crèche in the morning. They don’t look self-conscious about it, any more than mums have ever done.

There has been the odd pram-pushing male around for years now, but more often than not, a while back, they seemed unnatural in the role; either slightly embarrassed, or looking as though they felt they deserved a medal. The guy on my tram, like so many men I know, sounded as though, 50 percent of the time, he was responsible for organising the dinner.

I let myself enjoy that eavesdropped snippet on the tram, as I enjoyed watching the young man get off at the same stop as me, heading for the supermarket. These days, even in a country like ours, it seems domestic violence, the vast majority of which is perpetrated by men, is getting worse, certainly no better. Around the world, the stories of honour-killings, the use of rape as a weapon of war, the poverty of women, the presence of misogynistic regimes like the Taliban, are enough to cause anyone with a heart profound grief.

It cheered me to reflect that some things, in many corners of the world have changed, so that these days there is a comfortable equality between men and women that I suspect is a new thing in the history of humankind. In some ways, we’ve come a long way. But it wasn’t always like this; it isn’t like this everywhere. Lest we forget.

Comments

[Rod]

And doesn't lasting change usually come like this? In small places first. Before it makes it onto the big stage it is practiced and rehearsed in ordinary homes and sometimes sticking its head up on a tram!
Thank you Clare.