#so if we were more masc we’d probably rock it
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elodieunderglass · 16 days ago
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so i showed jack glass to some teenagers (my kid and their partner) without context and they had some different responses:
- his name is alan
- he may be gay or bi, but definitely isn’t straight
- he is canadian
- he not only cooks, he owns a restaurant
- he likes to read
- he does not know how to parallel park
- he doesn’t fix his own car, but he has a friend who does
- he is generally very nice
not sure why they agree with everyone else on some points while being so different on others, but yeah.
In reference to my guysona (thank you). I am glad that my face is just; you know. Like that. In every universe.
Hey just out of interest, if I had a sibling, who was objectively the one who stole all of the hotness genes on every measurable axis - they’re the hot one, right. You guys agree, correct.
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freakishlemon · 7 years ago
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I’ve been thinking a lot about the gendering and socialization of work lately with regards to my growing frustrations with my youngest brother, so I’m throwing words at this screen. Might be interesting to you folks, might not, so I’m putting it behind a cut below.
((Read More should start here, mobile users))
So some basic background, I’m the oldest of 4 kids in my family and we live in a rural town that’s been start-stopping it’s way to suburbia sorta kinda maybe, so our upbringing is pretty squarely centered in this little corner of the world. There me (trans-masc genderqueer) born in ‘88, there’s my sister (woman) born in ‘90, middle brother (man) born in ‘92, and the youngest brother (man) born in ‘96. Myself and the middle brother both still live at home, but we are employed and are paying off loans or looking into continuing education, so we’re doing pretty well. My sister has been moved out with her fella and their co-owned pets and she started her own business last year, in addition to subsidizing her income with part-time bar-tending/restaurant gigs when she needs to. All three of us have completed the middle-class white person requirement of earning a Bachelor’s degree (yay debt :/ ).
My youngest brother has a chronic gut illness and had to have surgery on his intestines last December, which prompted him to really think about his college education (that he was failing) and opt to not finish school. I think that was a surprisingly mature decision for this brother. So he takes the time to recover from the surgery and he’s been back to his normal for a while now, so my parents have been prompting him to start seeking employment since about March-ish.
He’s still unemployed, which does not surprise me based on our location/job market/the incredible hell that is Finding A Job, but I find myself and I see my parents becoming more and more frustrated with him.
Now, my parents’ frustration I understand because they’re in their late 50s/60s and they do all those prior generation stereotype things like tell you to make a million follow up calls and go bother the management and just start asking businesses for jobs, which is what they know. The rest of us sympathize with that portion of my brother’s current position, but... it occurred to me that my youngest brother is doing nothing to alleviate this from my parents because he hasn’t learned how to deflect them.
Because he’s looking for his first job.
His. First. Job.
It hit me this morning that the way our society socializes work for afab folks starts so god damn early. If we define a job as Somewhere You Are Scheduled To Be To Perform Work, I started working at 11 at my local library as a volunteer. I outgrew the summer reading program for the young kids and there was nothing for the older kids. I had to be there for my siblings because I was too young to stay home, so I was shelving books or assisting at the Scholastic book fair. Listen, I worked at this library as a volunteer for so long that the retiring children’s librarian had me run the summer reading program for two years, then she retired and there wasn’t a children’s librarian for a year so I ran the summer reading program, AND THEN I TRAINED THE NEW CHILDREN’S LIBRARIAN ON HOW TO RUN A SUMMER READING PROGRAM. It was her first librarian job and I was sixteen. 
My sister started doing the same thing when she aged out of the summer reading program. My brothers didn’t.
But if we count paid work, my sister and I took our first job together at 14 and 12 when we were offered a pretty sweet babysitting gig. We’d finish middle school, walk over to the elementary school down the street to pick up this first grade girl, and hang out at the library doing homework for an hour and a half until the girl’s mom could come pick her up. Three days a week, paid on Thursday like clock work. 
And we both did things like that until we were old enough to be legally hired - babysitting gigs, pet sitting, helping older people with physical tasks (I mean, mostly my grandma just having us doing a day’s worth of chores for pizza and ten bucks, but it’s still work).
And we applied for jobs all through high school and if we didn’t have jobs during the school year, we went for summer jobs. The only time either one of us was without something for at least part of the summer was my summer before senior year of college when I was s c r a m b l i n g for an internship to meet my graduation requirements (the coordinator at my school was no god damn help and I’m still mad about it).
Neither of my brothers was prompted to find paying work until after highschool, except when family friends needed pet sitters and my sister and I were already working. They were only encouraged to do volunteer work during highschool because it was a graduation requirement.
I was unemployed for a few months after graduating college, which is pretty normal, and that’s when I learned to balance out the actual reality of job hunting and my parent’s expectations of it. And you know the easiest way I found to do that? Work around the god damn house. Do all the dishes. Sweep floors. Vacuum. Is there a junk closet mom’s been meaning to go through? Empty it out, clean it, and go through what needs to be done with the stuff, and then do it for her so that she only has to make the decisions without taking her two days off to do it herself. Shit like that. Honestly? Yep. Yeah mom, I put in nine applications today, one of the places I applied to last week should be calling by the end of the week, and look at your sparkling kitchen. Done. I acknowledge my advantage of being a physically healthy person to pull this off and the amazing support of my friend who would call me at six in the morning to wake up my ass to take a walk, talk shit out, and then start the day with a scheduled thing. I know that’s not in the cards for all of us, but even doing a few simple chores like wiping off the flat stove top did a lot to get my parents off my back.
(Once my sister started working for actual paychecks, she’s pretty much always been employed because she rocks at this stuff. When she got her at-time-dream-job-in-her-actual-degree-field at a photo studio for $50k a year, she had three part time restaurant jobs and still managed to have more of a social life than I’ve ever had. And then when she hated that job, she started her own business and is making it work. She’s a rock star. It’s amazing.)
So my middle brother was unemployed for the better part of a year after his retail summer job stopped giving him hours and he was searching for a job in his field-ish. He wasn’t socialized to pick up housework the way my sister and I were, but due to his recently-diagnosed-bipolar-flavoured mental illness (i’m not sure the exact diagnosis, but it’s in the bipolar type family) he would have manic episodes and needed shit to do to manage his brain so it quickly became a thing that mom would leave him a list of shit that had to be done around the house each day/week and he would get it done (less done on depressive days, but still to the point of acceptably done). He built the routine and when he couldn’t get calls back for interviews, he sought out gig jobs from friends and family, which is how he ended up in his current job. And even now after lots of balancing acts and sorting himself out, he’d on a pretty even keel these days, but if he’s got fewer work hours than the rest of us that week and mom leaves him a list, he gets the must-dos done.
My youngest brother was diagnosed with his gut illness at 9, which is a shit hand of cards to be dealt. Flare ups are bad and can lay him out for days. I know that’s a part of his life and is probably affecting how he’s looking for a job and all, but... it’s very frustrating to me that this is his first job hunt (or temporary gig hunt) and he’s 21. 
He was prompted to get summer jobs while he was in college and relatively healthy, but it wasn’t enforced by my parents on him the way it was on the middle brother and certainly not the way it was enforced on my sister and I. It’s very frustrating to me that my mom will leave a list for my youngest brother with things like 1) empty dishwasher, 2) do your laundry, and 3) play with the dog outside for 20 minutes, and not a single one of those things has been done by the time my mom or I get home (we have similar work schedules). And my mom’s response is to just roll her eyes and grudgingly do it or ask me/middle brother to do it. She doesn’t make him do it. She’s never assigned him to make a simple dinner for the rest of us, the way she has middle brother and myself. She’s never assigned him big projects (clean the basement, vacuum the whole house, scrub out the refrigerator) the way she has middle brother and myself, even as something to be done over the course of the week instead of that day. 
It’s just super frustrating to hear him snap at my parents when they pester him about getting a job because mom, dad, middle brother, and myself are doing full time jobs plus sometimes side jobs (middle brother is running a daily livestream and/or podcast, I’m slowly working fiber work business stuff into my life, mom’s starting a yarn dyeing business) PLUS ALL THE HOUSEWORK and he’s sitting there in his room all day filling out applications for a bit and then playing video games for fourteen hours.
Like... I’d feel less frustrated if I knew or suspected it was the gut illness or something that was kicking him all the time, but I don’t think it is. We learned to recognize that kind of stuff when he was in school because there were times when he could only do a half day or couldn’t go at all. Honestly? I just don’t think he knows how to work. Not the way my sister’s and my gendered upbringing taught us. Not the way my middle brother’s mental illness and brain coping taught him. We ended up as people who need stuff to do during the day. It just looks to us like he’s not trying when the reason he hasn’t emptied the dishwasher in two weeks without my mom standing there making him do it is “I forgot."
Just... ffffguh. Venting. 
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