The Lattice Group has started writing for the website True/Slant . This week, we published a two-part interview series with Jeremy Adam Smith, father, writer and blogger (Daddy Dialectic ) about the American shift toward shared parenting. We decided to re-publish it here.

PART I

When I was ten months old, my father took two months off his job in the Foreign Service to stay home with me and my older sister, Agnes. He had already taken three months leave when Agnes, his first child, was born. He was taking advantage of the paid paternity leave that was offered to him as a Swedish citizen. It was the 1980’s, and paternity leave was a relative novelty. So novel that my career diplomat dad’s experience garnered enough interest for a book, “A Dad’s Diary,” which chronicles his time at home with Agnes.

In “The Daddy Shift, How Stay-at-Home Dads, Breadwinning Moms, and Shared Parenting are Transforming the American Family,” which came out on Father’s Day from Beacon Press, Jeremy Adam Smith writes about his own experience staying home with his son Liko, but he goes beyond the awed, often naïve, wonder that characterizes my dad’s book, and instead offers genuine, practical insights into the current parenting landscape in America. Smith has identified a change in how contemporary families are structured. He defines the “Daddy Shift” of his title as follows: “the gradual movement away from a definition of fatherhood as pure breadwinning to one that encompasses capacities for both breadwinning and caregiving.” If you believe Smith, and he makes a very believable case, the next generation of American dads have significantly different values, and different practices, from their own Baby Boom fathers.

Based on my own research into the desires and expectations of Generation Y when it comes to work and family, I would venture to say that Smith is right. Most of the  Gen Y men I have spoken to expressed an earnest desire to be there for the children in a hands-on way, a way that often differed from the way their own fathers were there for them. Most said they would like to take paternity leave to stay home with their young children for a period of time. The problem that these Gen Y parents-to-be will face, which Smith ruefully points out, is that the government and the business world have not caught up to the changing views of the people that fuel them. “Men are evolving, but society, business, and government still drag their collective feet.”

For starters, new American fathers don’t even have the option that my Swedish father had already back in the 1980’s. The United States is the only industrial nation in the world that doesn’t guarantee paid parental leave of any sort— we’re in the company of Papa New Guinea, Liberia and Swaziland. Smith writes,

“One 2000 survey of mothers and fathers found that 78 percent of new parents did not take leave because they didn’t feel able to afford the pay cut that usually comes with it. Forty-three percent said leave would hurt their prospects for promotion; 32 percent claimed they’d lose their job if they took leave; 21 percent said their employer denied their request.”

Which leads me to the most salient point Smith makes (among a sea of salient points): young men lack role models for ways of fathering that better match the care giving desires that they increasingly possess. Smith wants to remedy this. In his charming, highly readable, broadly accessible voice, Smith not only offers up his own experiences as an example, but also chronicles the choices of several other so-called “reverse-traditional” families (where the father stays home while the mother works). His goal is an admirable one: “I have tried to write the book that I wish someone had given me before I became a father. I have tried to write a book that can help thoughtful new parents see the social context in which they make their decision, in hopes that they can make each one more confidently.”

My colleague Liz Kofman and I had the opportunity to pick Smith’s brain about fatherhood in our new brave century. Here is what he said:

What are the benefits of shared parenting?

The benefits are different for women and men and children. Women get a chance to do things besides change diapers. Men learn how to be whole human beings. Children, the young ones, learn that they can survive without mommy; they gain independence, and they discover how much dad loves them.

What are the drawbacks of shared parenting?

That varies from couple to couple, I’d say. But mainly, for most, the drawbacks are inner conflict and confusion. Men and women are living their lives according to scripts that are hundreds, maybe thousands, of years old, scripts that are not terribly relevant to our twenty-first-century reality. Women worry that they are being bad mothers when they go off to work; dads worry that they are bad fathers when they don’t. Some moms feel responsible–sometimes in overcompensating, overbearing ways–for kids and housework, and blame caregiving dads when something seems to go wrong at home.

But I discovered, in examining my own experience and in interviewing parents around the country, that these drawbacks can be overcome. The happiest couples I interviewed were the ones who prize time with kids and are able to articulate what they are gaining through a reverse-traditional arrangement. They value work and care equally, and are grateful to each other for the contributions each makes to the household, and so they value each other.

What needs to change in our society for shared parenting to really take hold?

So much. We have very far to go. For dads, the most important thing we can do right now is tell stories; it’s very powerful for men to tell and hear stories about the first time they held or fed their children. That helps create a culture of care and a new image of the good father. For decades, fathers have been told they’re worthless, or violent, or absent. It’s time to provide the positive examples, to reflect what’s best in fatherhood back to men and boys.

What’s interesting about the United States is that the culture is changing in advance of public and workplace policies. Sweden, by contrast, has tried to legislate shared parenting into existence, with some success. But in America, employers and government have fought shared parenting tooth and nail. For example, only a tenth of fathers have access to paternity leave. Only California guarantees paid leave to parents, and it’s pretty paltry. Caregiving activities, such as the ability to take a sick child to the doctor, are not protected as well as they should be.

And yet American parents have been very resilient and creative, and have forged new roles for themselves. Fatherhood has evolved beyond breadwinning, to encompass a capacity for caregiving. That revolution has just started, but the evidence suggests that it will continue. Now public policy needs to catch up. We need to recognize that moms and dads alike have responsibilities at home as well as at work. That recognition will make America a better, more humane place.

We would really like to know what advice you have for people in their 20s, just starting out in the working world, many of us without families yet.

When I was in my 20s, I assumed, like almost everyone I knew, that I would never become a parent. But then in my 30s, I became a parent–which was statistically very likely. Most people ultimately become parents. I would advise twentysomethings, girls and guys alike, to start thinking now about what role you most want to play if you start a family–and articulate that, when the time comes. Because if what you say to your spouse or partner is just some line of bullshit, then it will later bite you in the ass. You can’t fake parenthood. If you want to focus on your career, say that. If you want to take time with the kids, say that. If you don’t want to support your spouse– if a dual-income family is what you envision—say that. Don’t tell your loved one what you think he or she wants to hear. Tell the truth.

Jeremy Adam Smith, I salute thee! After interviewing over one hundred Gen Y:ers, I’ve witnessed enough confusion, contradiction and frustration to know that a book like this, and a  role model like Smith, is just what men of my generation are clamoring for. The question is: will they read it? I’m afraid the answer is no. Young people shy away from anything that seems suspiciously policy-preachy, especially if it has to do with gender roles. Though “The Daddy Shift” is emphatically not that, I fear the title may be a deterrent to the average reader who is, incidentally, the very person who needs the book the most.

- Astri

PART II 

On Monday, I posted the first part of a two part interview series with author and father Jeremy Adam Smith, whose book “The Daddy Shift, How Stay-at-Home Dads, Breadwinning Moms, and Shared Parenting are Transforming the American Family,” came out on Father’s Day from Beacon Press. The name of my game is Generation Y, and when my colleague Liz and I spoke with Smith, our real interest lay in finding out how his wisdom regarding men and women’s roles and parenting pertained to our target group. A lot, actually.

After reading the interview with Smith, my boyfriend, a prime example of an urban American Gen Y:er, sat with his head in his hands repeating, “I don’t know what I want.” He had begun to question his ideals and expectations, wondering if his stint with me— a socially progressive Swede— had only served to alter his mindset for the short term. Did he really want the dual-earner/dual-caregiver model we’d always talked about, or was he actually, honestly, invested in the role he’d been raised with: a manhood defined primarily by breadwinning?

My boyfriend is the perfect reader for Smith’s book. He is a member of the youngest generation of professionals and to-be-fathers who have a lot of role-examining to do. He, and men like him, may need help asking the right questions. While there are plenty of advocacy groups fighting the fight for mothers (such as momsrising.org ), “The same cannot be said of fathers,” Smith writes. “Too often, we as a group have docilely accepted the ‘ideal worker’ model, which pretends our families don’t exist.”

Basically, what Smith highlights is reverse discrimination. The gender equity debate tends to revolve around “women’s issues.” But, as Smith points out, our patriarchal system can also put men at a serious disadvantage. My own dad always tells me he thinks women have it easier these days because we have more choices. As a woman, I can choose to have a career, but I can also find respect if I choose to take a slower work path and dedicate myself to my children. Men are not as lucky. Most feel they have to have careers in order to be respected. This was truer of my dad’s generation, but it still resonates with my own.

Here’s more of what Jeremy Adam Smith had to say:

What is your take on the biology argument—that women are somehow biologically pre-ordained to be closer to their children and therefore are the rightful primary caregivers?

Well, women do carry burdens that men do not--they gestate and give birth to children, and can breastfeed. That's why paid maternity leave and caregiver protections are so hugely necessary, for the health of both mother and child.

But for many couples, those first months of parenthood set a pattern that lasts for the rest of their lives. It doesn't have to be that way. Study after study, plus decades of experience, tell us that dads are fully capable to taking over care of young children, and everyone--moms, dads, kids-- will benefit. Empathy is a skill that can be developed, not a fixed trait, not something unique to women. That's true of all of the emotions and behaviors we need to take care of kids.

One breadwinning mom I interviewed, Gina Heise in Kansas City, argued that a mother's special biological attachment to her children is actually a good argument on behalf of stay-at-home fatherhood. It creates a bond between dads and kids that might not exist otherwise, and deepens the father's attachment to the family as a whole. The dad might not know what he's doing at first, but that's also true for many mothers. We have to respect each other's learning curves.

Besides your work, it is rare that we’ve come across men advocating for shared parenting. Why do you think this is? To what degree is this changing?

Historically, men have seen breadwinning as the most important part of parenting. When my grandfather went to work at a quarry every day, he saw himself as being a good father. And, by the standards of his time, he was a very dedicated father. So when working-class men organized themselves into unions and fought for pay, respect, and benefits, they were fighting for their families. It was all about a paycheck, not care. And robbing a man of his paycheck could destroy him, and the family. That dynamic has changed.

Eighty percent of mothers work and a third of wives make more money than their husbands. During the past twenty years, and especially during the past ten, rates of male caregiving have risen and we've seen more and more men ask for things like paternity leave.

However, we shouldn't expect that men will talk about these issues using the same language that women have; when we do, we miss the ways that men's values have shifted. Women talk about equality, and they have the feminist movement to back them up. As far as I'm concerned, that's right on. But for me and for many men, shared parenting is mainly about living a meaningful life. It's about love. That may sound dippy compared to a powerful feminist slogan like equal pay for equal work, but what are we talking about when we talk about shared parenting? We're talking about love and care. It should be seen as something wonderful, not as drudgery--though taking care of a kid every day is indeed very hard work. It was right for the feminist movement to push men to take on more housework and childcare, but we've reached a point where men have started to pull each other in, mostly just by example. There's still push, but also pull. That's a very powerfulcombination.

Given the way the American system works, some people fear that practicing shared parenting (where presumably both parents have to make some sacrifices in terms of career, or at least cannot work 80+ hour weeks), means that the couple has to accept that they will likely not become very, very successful monetarily. In other words, can you be a jet-setting i-banker and still practice shared parenting? Or are some career paths out of the question?

In my opinion, it's not possible to have a super-high-powered career and still be an involved parent. I'm sure President Obama, to name one example, is not there for his daughters as often as he and they would like him to be. Does that mean that Obama should have remained a constitutional law professor, and never pursued politics? In terms of my own small life, writing "The Daddy Shift" took time away from my son, but does that mean I shouldn't have written it? Each person, each family, has to answer these questions for themselves. You have to know what you want, and know what you want will change over time. Maybe in eight years Barack Obama will feel called to become a stay-at-home dad!

The problem, as I see it, is not people making use of their talents and pursuing careers--or, conversely, choosing to stay home with children, which feminists like Linda Hirshman say is a problem. I think the problem is when people do what they do out of fear. They stay at their job and chase money and accomplishment because they're afraid to stop, or, in some cases, because they're afraid that they're letting down the feminist movement. Or they retreat to the home because they're afraid of the world or of not being womanly enough. The challenge, for every individual human being, is to be courageous, to be who you're are going to be. And I think children benefit when they see that example.

I hold Smith in the greatest esteem. But I do have a bone to pick with his terminology. Smith calls himself a stay-at-home-dad, but he was only home full time with his son, Liko, for a year, after his wife had, in turn, been home for a year. In my mind, that is not stay-at-home parenthood. That is parental leave. Granted, I’m from Sweden, a country that offers eighteen months of paid parental leave. To me, stay-at-home parenthood would have to entail several years to a lifetime out of the paid workforce.

My issue is with the labeling. The interviews that I’ve done with Gen Y:ers have shown that young men and women shy away from labels like stay-at-home-mom or stay-at-home-dad. In their long-term plans, they mention wanting to take some time off (several months to a year or so) when they have children, but they would never want to call themselves a stay-at-home parent. They want to continue to identify themselves as professionals, throughout their time off. That is, I think, an important distinction. And it points to a crucial issue, which Smith also wrestles with. The Unites States offers fewer provisions to help working families than any other industrial nation in the world. Because there is no federally mandated paid parental leave in America, as little as one year out of the workforce to care for kids makes you a stay-at-home parent. The equivalent time out in most European countries allows you to remain a "professional" on temporary leave.

What’s in a name? A lot, it turns out. If taking time off to care for children is automatically labeled stay-at-home parenthood, it will affect the willingness to do it, since doing so has obvious implications for a person's career, earning power, and sense of self— as my Gen Y interviews showed. I support Smith’s recommendation that the US adopt more reasonable parental leave policies. Maybe then we can finally get away from unnecessary labels.

- Astri

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