Here in the Philippines, yayas or nannies are the main instruments of child-caring in a household with a working mother. Nannies are of course not a uniquely Filipino phenomenon. Based on my experience though, there are some nuances to the yaya and amo dynamics that make it culturally singular.
There are several things about that relationship that makes me hesitant, even if how much needed, to enter in one.
The working woman is the epitome of emancipation from the strictures of a paternalistic society. These women work either out of necessity or out of innate love for work. Whatever the reason, they have the choice to utilize their talents and skills in fields that are supposed to bring them fulfillment. To propagate this system, the yaya is the main instrument that allows for this freedom.
In my society, the demographics of a yaya is someone from the province, forced to be away from her family so she can earn money to send to her ailing parents or overly-fertile siblings or studying cousins. Our family have been lucky to have yayas who stayed with us for most of their lives. My mother’s yaya stayed with our family until the time she died. Our current yaya, the one who cared for me up to my youngest brother was just 18 when she started with us. She is now in her mid-forties.
Although they are already considered part of the family, there is something about their plight that I cannot bring myself to impose on someone else.
In both instances, the yayas who stay with one family ends up not having a family of their own. They work for very low wages. There is no option of promotion to another field. There is no opportunity for them to improve on their station in lives. Whatever money they earn goes to their family in the province.
In a lot of ways, these yayas are seen as all-around slaves who owe their employers loyalty instead of employees.
Conversely, I have seen how dependent my family has been to these yayas. I remember fights between my parents over the yaya. My mom believes until now that they are a necessity.
The marxist Pong will never agree, but in any unequal relationship, whether you are master or the slave, both players will never be free.
I will want to continue working after the baby is born. I do not know yet how to make it happen without falling into that trap. Daycares are not available here in the country.
One thing I do know is that my emancipation from the kitchen and children should not come at the expense of someone else’s exploitation.
