A historical and cultural exploration of the devastating consequences of undervaluing those who conduct the "women's work" of childcare and housekeeping
Mothercoin tells stories of immigrant nannies, mainly from Mexico and Central America, living and working in private homes in the US, while also telling a larger story about global immigration, working motherhood, and the private experience of the public world we have created. In taking up the mothercoin - the work of mothering, divorced from family and exchanged in a global market - immigrant nannies embody a grave contradiction: While "women's work" of childcare and housekeeping is relegated to the private sphere and remains largely invisible to the public world, the love and labor required to mother are fundamental to the functioning of that world. Listening to the stories of these workers reveals the devastating consequences of undervaluing this work.
As cleaners and caregivers are exported from poorer regions into richer ones, they leave behind a material and emotional absence that is keenly felt by their families. Meanwhile, on the other side of these borders, children of wealthier regions are bathed and diapered and cared for in clean homes with folded laundry and sopa de arroz simmering on the stove, while their parents work ever longer hours and often struggle themselves with the conflicting demands of work and family. In the US, many of these women's voices are silenced by language or fear or the habit of powerlessness. But even in the shadows, immigrant nannies live full and complicated lives moved by desire and loss and anger and passion. Mothercoin sets out to tell these stories, tracing the intimate consequences of choices made at the crossroads of globalization, immigration, and the judgments we make about who is a "good" mother.
Elizabeth Cummins Muñoz is a writer and lecturer living in Houston, Texas. She holds a doctorate in 20-century Latin American literature, specializing in Mexican and US Hispanic studies and women’s studies. Her essays and fiction explore the moral borderlands of immigration, domesticity, and the historical imagination.
(free review copy) This is a topic I’m highly interested and invested in and I really appreciated the personal stories of immigrant caregivers throughout the book. Some of the background and “filler” material wasn’t written in a style I love BUT please remember that I read this very early and it may be edited and tightened up by the time it hits stores. I can’t recommend it highly enough to mothers of all types, and I desperately want high income parents of both genders who employee immigrant caregivers to read it. We need societal change to fix this issue but increased empathy by employers can’t hurt in the meantime.
I feel like her skill deserves a higher rating. But I was confused several times about what exactly she was trying to say, and the switch from engrossing personal narratives to dense commentary made it hard to really sink into the flow of the book. I feel like it would have made more of an impact on me with more story, less commentary.
"The realities of the mothercoin inhabit these silences and seep into the words we use, 'I'm looking for someone to help me clean,' we might say, 'a girl to come in and watch the kids for me.' Rather than hiring an employee, we seek a vague 'someone,' always there to 'help.' Because in a world of discourse and meaning that ignores the reality of the servant class and understands 'women's work' as immaterial to larger economic forces, the outsourcing of such work is wrapped up in lanaguage of consumption, a guilty pleasure of the upper-class woman draped in white across the chaise lounge. As a result, families with real needs find themselves negotiating an industry with unspoken rules and vaguely defined practices, and cloaked in a hazy sense of entitlement that belies the urgency of their situation" (68).
"Yet even as we live these realities, so many of us still think of ourselves in terms of ideals-equal, empowered women, class-blind, and egalitarian. The woman wiping the spilled milk off the counter when we come home at the end of a long day, the one who smiles and collects her things and hugs our children goodnight before slipping out the door to her own foreign reality, shoulders a legacy of servitude that may be something of a thread to those ideals. With one squeeze of a sullied mop, she has subsidized our feminism and reproduced the most glaring of global inequalities right there in our home, on a living room rug still warm with an afternoon of blocks and trains and light-up toys. It's no wonder these conversations make us uncomfortable" (69).
"When we replace the housewife with a low-wage, publicly invisible muchacha, we maintain the same system of gender-based power that women have been resisting for ages. Because the feminist revolution did not dismantle patriarchy, it only allowed some women to participate in patriarchal power" (132).
"So when Rosa tried to calm her daughter's fears as the children gathered around the frying pans and soda pops in their Houston apartment in 1992, she was up against a beast that would not be quieted. And in 2010, when Sara's niece Celia cried for home amid schoolyard shouts of 'wetback' and un unchecked disease with no access to medical care, she joined Lila and a chorus of children who cried over a world in which they or their parents could be taken away. A world where only some have a right to college and jobs and driver's licenses, to medical insurance and the freedom to walk unafraid from school to park to home. They cried over a world where, for them, to be poor and foreign meant to deserve less and, always, to be afraid" (150).
"In this complicated terrain of love, labor, and the innocence of children, the specter of commodification confuses the nature of value [...] This kind of caring practice carries both an 'instrumental' and an 'intrinsic' value. It is productive labor that is quantifiable, that can and should be counted in economic models, and it is also something more- the intangible value of human relationship. There is no separating the nanny's work from her love, the mother's love from her work, and there is no imposing the logic of the market on one and the logic of emotion on the other. There is only the logic of the market on one and the logic of emotion on the other. There is only the logic of relationship. Children know this. To teach them otherwise is its own violence" (163).
"To linger for a moment at the intersection of logical choices and unexplained suffering is to drive a wedge in the gears of the story. It is a stopping place that deserves a voice" (174).
"And though my conversations with these women are bound by the same power structures that shape their work and public lives, the core of the stories yet emerges from the very impulse to fullness that the mothercoin threatens. So that the truth of the telling lies in the voice itself. [...] So that, in content and form, in all this narrative landscape of damaging choices and suffocating limitations, moments of power and agency persist" (178).
I have Beacon Press and Elizabeth Cummins Muñoz to thank for sending me an Advanced Readers Copy of Mothercoin: The Stories of Immigrant Nannies set to publish on October 19, 2022! What a deeply profound collection of narratives from several different migrant women, who all left the horrors and poverty of their homelands to find a better life and provide a financial means for their families.
The toss-up at hand is that these women are taking on roles where they are literally providing and instilling care and love for the children whom they are looking after and that love isn't faked or fabricated. They are loving these children as they would their own, and that emotional strife bleeds over borders as their direct descendants struggle to grasp a relationship with their own mothers, while yes they are helping in all the ways that they can, there's still that missing piece there.
And on top of it all, America treats these migrant workers so terribly, both financially and as people. Words hurt and they are just doing their best to embrace the American Dream... as it was one instilled in the immigrants who navigated their way to the states long ago -- I'm talking centuries ago. We're all hypocrites, enforcing stricter rules on stolen land. End Rant.
This was a powerful piece and I am thankful that Muñoz allotted these women with the platform to speak so their stories could be told, heard, and shared, hoping to make a difference in the way we treat others.
Mothercoin painted beautiful, complex pictures of Hispanic immigrants and their journeys as nannies and domestic workers. I appreciated that the author acknowledged the imbalanced nature of her relationships with each woman and expanded on the imbalance inherent in woker/employee relationships. I found, though, that the author's (frequent!) analysis was underwhelming and took away from the narratives that were supposed to be the point of the book. it was almost like the author was trying to convince the reader that immigrants are people too, which, like yeah. the bigots who don't agree aren't going to be reading something in this genre. also, the (again, frequent!) assertion that "feminits don't even talk about this." uhmm baby. yeah, sure, if you only read white liberal feminists I see how you might feel that way, but Black and Marxist feminists have been ringing the bell on the damage done by mothering expectations and the exploitation of minority women for literally centuries. overall, loved hearing the voices of women who aren't often represented, was annoyed by the author inserting themselves with nothing to really add
Bilingual Houston mom interviews several Central American nannies in her neighborhood and relays their stories about migrating to the US and their experiences as domestic workers, primarily "under the table", for American families.
Despite the fact that I saw this author speak about this book a few years ago and she seemed very genuine, something about the premise didn't sit right with me: white American mom explains what it's like to be a migrant worker... and I kept looking for something to dislike. But other than that general vibe, I couldn't find much fault with it. The author does a good job covering the experiences of the women she interviews without judgment and while acknowledging her priveleged perspective and her own conflicting views on nannying and modern feminism. I also appreciated how she built relationships with these women over time and didn't just jot down what she overheard at the park one day.
I think it was important to know where she was coming from in writing this, but I do wish she had taken herself out of the story a little more. There was a lot of focus on her own opinions and feelings, but the best parts of this book were when we heard directly from the women interviewed. This book opened my eyes much more to the challenges and often-unseen repercussions of using migrant labor to help raise a family, even when you have the best intentions.
Being born and raised in a city filled. With immigrants I felt like I deeply resonated with the story. Not so much about the nanny aspect but about the relationship between the kids and their mother who works hard for them but cannot be there for them bc of the harsh reality of immigration. Especially considering the current and past political administration that goes to great lengths to dehumanize immigrants. It felt refreshing to finally get to read these stories. I will say at times the switch to personal narration got confusing at first but easy to understand. Though at times did feel a bit “white savior” complex. Despite that it was a wonderful and compelling read that I highly recommend.
This is a mix of sociology/politics and personal narratives. I feel the chapter that had the best balance of the two was Las Patronas—it really did an accounting of the value of wife-ness. I appreciated the author’s critical take on feminism but it did really feel like she was addressing second wave feminism. I also… I hope that some of the proceeds go to these women, or that they are compensated, since these are their stories and I would hate for the book to capitalize off of their experiences without remuneration, a la The Help.
This book was both show (thru anecdotes of nannies in relation to their - always female - employers as well as their personal histories) and tell (the more sociological and economically oriented exposition and ultimate critique of the “mothercoin”) and definitely gave me good food for thought. It would probably have been more successful overall with even more show and less tell.
Seeing how devalued and yet how essential non-native women are to the American child care system is just heartbreaking. I was aware of most of this information but reading bout first person stories brought it home.
i think gets at various layers of the issues of the “mothercoin” in a way that is accountable and non judgmental. i felt a quality and personal depiction of a complex and nuanced issue