Let's hear it for trained monkeys

I grew to adulthood in the mid-to-late 1980s, when female empowerment was all the rage and ascending in one’s corporate career (it was always a corporate career) was all-important.

(Remember 1980s “power dressing”?)

Along with millions of other young women, I fell for that mindset after graduating from college in 1985. For many years I was caught up in the career-is-supreme corporate culture. I wore business clothes to work. I read Working Woman magazine.

I tossed that all away in 1993 when Don and I left urban California and moved first to Oregon, then later to Idaho. Suddenly that relentless pressure on career success as a woman was in a different galaxy, and we settled into the joys and tears of  a home woodcraft business, parenthood, and homesteading.

But far, far away, that pressure for women to climb the corporate ladder continued unabated. Once in a while, a news or magazine article would pierce my contented little bubble of domesticity and profile a woman who “had it all,” but most of the time the corporate culture was … well, far far away.

So here we are, decades later and even deeper into rural living. The kids have grown up. Don retired and passed the woodcraft business to Older Daughter, and now he concentrates on projects to build up the homestead. I’m currently the breadwinner in the family, and I earn that bread by being what I like to call a “trained monkey.”

I earn income freelance writing (magazines) and fiction writing (Harlequin’s Love Inspired line), but it’s the three-days-a-week online job in which I call myself a trained monkey. I do my job, and do it well, but I’m not called to make executive decisions or take heavy responsibility. And you know what? I’ve learned I like being a trained monkey.

A lot of this enjoyment has to do with my (remote) coworkers, who happen to be all men. These guys are smart, respectful, flexible, and easy to work with. That goes a long long way toward job satisfaction for us trained monkeys.

Anyway, the reason this issue came to mind is because of an article I stumbled across recently called “I Just Want a Dumb Job.” [Language warning.] It profiled three women who lived and breathed the corporate or entrepreneurial environment, and burned out.

The intro to the article reads, “You got your dream job! Congratulations. Except – it sucks. The hours are terrible, the pay is bad, and your shiny title doesn’t make up for the stress and drama. You secretly start to envy your friends who you used to make fun of – the corporate sellouts who clock in, clock out, and get paid. What does it feel like to realize that everything you thought you wanted in a career is actually a mirage? Here, three women talk about quitting the glamorous jobs they fought hard for and finding out that they’re much happier on the other side.’”

It was that line “You secretly start to envy your friends who you used to make fun of” that caught my eye. In the mid-80s, mocking women who preferred domesticity over corporate climbing was very “in.” I’m pleased to see those career expectations easing.

In the article, one woman noted, “As I’ve gotten older and had kids, my professional objectives have shifted: I want to earn as much as I can with the least amount of soul-sucking drama, so I can spend time with my family.”

Another woman said, “I remember having drinks with a friend once and being like, ‘I just want a dumb job. I just want to work for someone else, and not have to be on my toes all the time and not think so much.’ … Maybe I’m a corporate sellout, but it’s nice to have a healthy division between my job and my personal life. … Now, when I’m not clocked in, I’m not thinking about work. And that’s so freeing.”

I understand that. I totally understand that.

While the intense corporate ladder climbing of the 1980s is a thing of the past (or is it?), women are still encouraged to have high-profile careers with the accompanying pressure. But here’s the thing: A lot of women aren’t cut out for that. I know I’m not. I like being a trained monkey.

Has anyone experienced this?

Source: http://www.rural-revolution.com/2024/10/lets-hear-it-for-trained-monkeys.html