Values

Every now and then, I’m reminded of values. Or more correctly, mis-matched values, at times and places I least expect it. It’s like there’s a hidden undercurrent that I’m not aware of, like a rip in the ocean, and it strikes when I’ve completely forgotten it’s a thing that can happen. I need to be more prepared as it usually comes as a bit startling.

Let me explain. This happened just yesterday, but it’s not the first time, so I thought worth writing about. I even remarked to Cynthia that I was going to write about ‘values’ and she said it was a very serious topic. Yes, it is!

So this week I had arranged for my piano to be moved by a 3rd generation piano mover. The same company we have been using for decades and they always impress me on the level of technique (it’s not about brute strength). After my piano was successfully delivered to our place, I thought it’s a good moment for a bit of small talk, always nice to leave on a positive note. As we were standing outside on the footpath, the conversation was predictably around our house and specifically who chose it. Given the house was described as a bit “cute” (weatherboard ‘federation’ era), the piano mover asked if it was my wife who “chose the house”.

I said no, we both liked it enough that it was a mutual decision. Which is entirely true. I said the colour isn’t my first choice (blurgh cream) but I suppose at least it can be painted to match our hearts’ desires. He responded with “ah, I see, I find it’s usually the women who pick the house and it’s often down to what kind of kitchen the house has.”

Uh, wot m8?

I was taken aback and all I could muster up at this point was “Oh, you’ll find we’re both pretty good around the kitchen”.

The conversation moved on, thankfully, but it was certainly an awkward moment for me. That brutal reminder that not everyone’s values are the same as your own.

The other time which was similarly shocking for me was at a family BBQ where one of the older men was chatting to me about the Covid era. This was a few years ago now when Covid was done and dusted but still very fresh in our memories. We got onto the topic of working from home (WFH) and this all seemed like pretty safe family BBQ territory.

Then out come the cracker. “Work from home is great for women because it means they can spend more time in the kitchen”.

Uh, wot m8?

This time, I was NOT prepared whatsoever. I can’t even remember what I said in response! But crucially the inital moment of shock has stuck with me every since. I haven’t yet been brave enough to talk values head-on, I don’t think there’s a lot of room to change in those kinds of moments.

These are all lovely people of course. And most conversations are quite normal. But I simply cannot fathom declaring the place for a women is in the kitchen. Gross.

Comments (0)