In Appreciation of My Stay-at-Home Wife... Who Works Harder Than I Do

I recently returned from paternity leave to my role as a Catholic schoolteacher. This was in the midst of my wife Bernadette and me welcoming our fourth child, Dominique Marie McClain, on Sunday, March 26. During the approximately two weeks that I was able to spend at home with Bernadette and our four kids while Bernadette recovered and we got to know Dominique, I acquired a renewed appreciation for all that my wife does every day, all by herself at home with the kids (and at least there were two of us while I was home during those weeks). This got me reflecting.

"What do you do?" - In adult parlance, this ubiquitous inquiry is widely recognized as signifying "What is your profession?" It often serves as an ice-breaker or conversation-starter with strangers. Yet, when we ask this, are we, in the back of our minds, actually wondering "In what way do you objectively contribute to society?" Ultimately, we are defined by far more than our professions, our careers, our jobs, our educational aspirations, our ambitions, or however one might otherwise designate our propensity for earning a living. Indeed, the ability to work has overt dignity, as the Holy Father Pope Francis has emphasized: "Through work, the family is cared for and children are provided with a dignified life." Wage-earning positions may come and go, but the human worth that each of us inherently possesses is inalienable and unaltered by the machinations of employment prospects. However, while the cultural West has innumerable positive attributes that deserve their own treatment, there are likewise some admitted drawbacks, especially in terms of the pragmatism and utilitarianism that have regrettably developed regarding the value that is unflinchingly and perhaps even resolutely applied to a human life based solely upon how that person is perceived to have a capacity to exercise material productivity within society. However, whether someone - man or woman - works or not, every individual has equivalent human dignity.

The reason that I chose to write this piece is not in recompense to my wife Bernadette for conceding that I refuse to spend more than $0.50 on a Saint Valentine's Day card. Rather, I felt called to underscore how proud I am of my wife for that irreplaceable role that she plays within our life (emphasis on the singular "life") together. My wife could currently be doing anything in terms of a career, because she is both an "over-achiever" and "overly-qualified" (two terms that, as a linguist, I have come to loathe, but I digress). My wife is the quintessential success-laden nerd (and I would not have her any other way): she graduated within the top 5% of her high school class, went on to receive a generous scholarship to The Catholic University of America, spent a year studying abroad in France, and then graduated on-time with credentials in secondary education, French, Spanish, and theology. The annals of history may assess that Bernadette's life unexpectedly took a turn for the worse when she met her future husband at Bishop McNamara High School in Forestville, Maryland (where I still teach, and am an alumnus of the Class of 2000), in the spring of 2007. Bernadette went on to teach both French and theology full-time at McNamara for the next four years - during which we married in 2009 - up until our first child, John-Paul, was born in June of 2011. While at McNamara, Bernadette's commitment to professional excellence continued to shine: during her first year, she won a school-wide award as a rookie teacher, and during her last year, she received one of the "Teacher of the Year" awards from within the Archdiocese of Washington.

To be frank, when my wife and I decided on our familial goals before we had any kids, we decided collaboratively that she would stay at home. Thus, it came down to a lifestyle choice. We surveyed our options and made a choice together. There was no coercion, nor were there ultimatums or ulterior motives (other than my expectation to thereafter control our surplus of books strewn throughout the house, which I have mostly kept good on [mostly]). Bernadette and I realized, well before the fact, that we would have to make many sacrifices, not the least of which was financial, since we would rely on my income alone, but her staying at home was ultimately the family setting that we chose. Bernadette's service to our children as their mother is an indescribable gift.

Of course, in case there were any doubt, this is never to somehow denigrate working women, because that would be justifiably deemed as a patronizing outlook at best, or a chauvinistic outlook at worst. After all, my own late mother worked throughout her life in order to help my father as they endeavored to provide for their family. My mother was a successful real estate professional in Prince George's County before lung cancer took her away from us far too soon on August 14, 2000, after a diagnosis in April, at the height of her extensive accumulation of professional accomplishments. Yet, whenever I think of my dear mother, I do not consider her, at least primarily, in terms of her career-related achievements; rather, I consider her in terms of being my mother, especially reflecting on her many moments spent with us.

To draw my point to a close, in consideration of Women's History Month (March) and Mothers' Day in the month of May (likewise the month when we Catholics redouble our devotion to Mary), we necessarily celebrate the achievements of all women of every category. Ideally, this is a goal that we should embrace the whole year through. Globally, the contributions of women remain unfortunately underrated and widely unrecognized. In December 2015, National Geographic magazine named my own spiritual mother, Saint Mary, as "the world's most powerful woman." How fitting that the holiest woman in history also happened to be a wife (to Saint Joseph) and mother (of God)! How similarly fitting that Pope Francis has dedicated much of his pontificate to underscoring the remarkable contributions of women, including those working, such as during an April 2015 conference at the Vatican. In a similar vein, in February 2016, Pope Francis made a private pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Patroness of the Americas, during his papal visit to México. Nevertheless, Pope Francis was not the first pontiff to highlight women's irreplaceable role, because Saint John Paul II, who lost his own mother at a young age, likewise reiterated the irreproachably elevated worth of all women, famously including via his 1988 apostolic letter Mulieris Dignitatem and other similar proclamations.

My wife staying at home may not be "employment" by definition, but it is, beyond a doubt, challenging "work"... and she works harder than I do. In fact, I specifically chose the term "appreciation" in the title of this article because I value that she and I are in a situation that provides for her to be able to stay at home. Admittedly, not everyone is in this position and thus, those who are not deserve our respect. Someone could just as easily pen a piece regarding the multitude of contributions of working mothers, and they would be right to [continue to] do so. In the twenty-first century, women have thankfully reached the summit of societal involvement. One need but look at the numbers regarding how women are more likely than men to both attend, and graduate from, college. This is not to mention the increase in women's involvement in political life, to name simply a few examples of society's embrace of women in public life. However, it is unfair for anyone to flippantly classify stay-at-home wives and mothers as inherently repressed, suppressed, or oppressed.

My wife, along with other stay-at-home mothers, likewise merit any husband's respectful appreciation for their myriad contributions. At the end of the day - metaphorically or literally (and taking care of kids [no matter how cute] can comprise very long days indeed) - my wife fills a role that I cannot fill: she is the mother to our children, whether she is employed or not (and, in the interest of full disclosure, she does occasionally work part-time, because such is her unlimited generosity with her time and energy). Bernadette's motherly role is one that I cannot replicate any more than my fatherly role is one that she can. Everyone of good will must remember to celebrate our greatest heroes: our mothers, just as we must collectively thank God for all women in any role that can thus not be emulated. On that note, I challenge my fellow husbands: how are you honoring your own wives, especially in the midst of Mothers' Day? Please show them deep appreciation, no matter their specific role.