Wanted: Toddler's Personal Assistant: How Nannying for the 1% Taught Me about the Myths of Equality, Motherhood, and Upward Mobility in America

by Stephanie Kiser

Make America Great Again, my father texted the group chat that afternoon. I snapped. You have three, NO FOUR, daughters, I texted back, and you’re celebrating that a womanizer is now in charge of the free world. You think his tax plan is going to help you? You’re in for a rude fucking awakening BECAUSE YOU DON’T MAKE ANY REAL MONEY. You’re disgusting for voting this way. Too stupid to stop voting against your own best interests. This was the precise moment in which my parents’ and my differences were no longer avoidable. I resented everything they were, and they hated who I had become. To them, I was a traitor. A stuck-up city brat who had become too materialistic to remember where she came from. To me, they were closed-minded, unaware, and uninformed. Everything I was trying to run from. We were all right, and we were all wrong.