Pampered Guilt: With Spa Treatments, Is There More Than What Meets the Eye?
by Racialicious special correspondent Wendi Muse
On Tuesday, I walked half a block from my office to get a manicure/pedicure. I had a gift certificate that I figured that I’d put to good use, especially considering that my nails were chewed down from a combination of stress resulting from the month-end close and my anticipation regarding delegate count announcements on CNN. That and my cuticles looked more like razed cornfields than supportive flesh thanks to my having recently moved to a new apartment. I was a hot mess, and I needed help instantly.
When I arrived at the spa, I thanked my lucky stars for the opportunity to have some time away from my corporate sweatshop, but felt that I might have stepped into another one—though this time, the roles were reversed. I was in charge. In some weird S&M-like twist of fate, the spa had transported me into another world, where dozens of women were present to meet my every need if I just asked, even if they could barely understand a word I said. My vocabulary for the hour was restricted solely to beautification terms, and little else could be said without getting lost in translation. My spa break had given me yet another reason to bite my nails.
On the one hand, I love being pampered, but on the other, I’m the type who would be likely to clean my house from top to bottom before the maid came, if you know what I mean. I say only possess what you could properly take care of on your own. It’s a personal philosophy I try to live by—one that inevitably haunts me whenever I walk into a spa. A terrible disease I have called OverThink takes over, making it hard for me to enjoy myself at time because I am constantly thinking that I should have run the blade a little closer to the skin on my left leg as to not annoy the masseuse or that I should have scrubbed my right heel a little harder in the shower this morning so that the pedicurist wouldn’t end up with huge biceps on account of all the elbow grease she had to apply to my feet.
But when I returned to work that day, with Essie-adorned fingers and toes, I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Other co-workers expressed feeling a similar anxiety when going for spa treatments, and just like me, the pedicure was sometimes the hardest part to endure. There was just something odd about having a woman nearly beneath you in a hunched position treating your toes as if they were solid gold, staring at you in feigned adoration as you massaged lotion in your calves, your conversations limited to “hard?” or “soft?” and “same color for your manicure?” At the epicenter of comfort, something placed us in a state of unease. Though being pleased, we felt a discomfort based on class, race, age, and/or language barriers, when applicable, that placed us in a position of power we hadn’t earned. Though in our discussions, my workmates and I agreed that it was the physical positioning of a pedicure that bothered us, we knew it went deeper than that, we just weren’t sure exactly how to say it.
The author of the blog That Black Girl attempted to explain how she felt in April of 2007 in an entry simpled entitled “Service“:
i know this sounds weird, but something just doesn’t sit well with me having someone black give me a pedicure. as far as portland goes, i haven’t seen any other pedicure salons with black people actually doing the pedicures . it would just make me feel weird and i’m not sure exactly why. something about it seeming like servant type work makes it seem awkward for someone black to be serving me like that. like i’m being a house negro or something . . . i wonder if anyone else feels this way or if i’m just cookoo.
In several of the comments, readers complained that the author was being overly analytical about the situation or that she was too focused on race, but in my response, I attempted to expand the author’s thoughts by incorporating history:
i can understand what you mean, though i feel odd about receiving pedicures from anyone–no matters his/her race…and i LOVE pedicures. the manicures don’t bother me, but there is something about the social implications of washing feet/shining shoes/doing some type of service that low to the ground in basically a kneeling position. i think that is what bothers me…the physical side of it…what message that normally sends to us. feet are considered dirty and cleaning them or the shoes people wear is considered to be reserved (esp. in the past) for a certain sector of society….the poor people, the immigrants, the uneducated, etc. so it’s hard to break that association b/c it’s been ingrained in us over time.
I went on to include personal experiences that further complicated my view on receiving service in spas:
manicures, on the other hand, don’t make me feel weird. but the pedicure…so hard sometimes. i like my beautician. she’s a year younger than me, has similar interests, and was born and raised in nepal. she always puts an interesting spin on topics as a result of her cultural upbringing and her experiences as an immigrant, so we talk about race and social status a lot. nevertheless, it’s odd for me to have an intelligent, confident, interesting woman i would completely consider my friend if it were outside of a business relationship to scrub my feet.
Back in November of 2007, writer Emily Nussbaum of New York Magazine decided to tackle this issue as well. In the opening of her article “A Strangers Touch,” she endeavored to pinpoint the psychological games at play when one goes to a spa, especially one in which the person in charge of your service may be perceived as being on a different social level from yourself, at least bearing in mind the complex racial and class stratification in the United States, and to be more specific, New York City:
The first time I got a pedicure, I felt something similar: physical vulnerability, mingled with a lurid awareness of power—an Asian woman who didn’t speak English was kneeling in front of me, washing my feet. It felt distinctly slave and master. But that’s only true the first time you have a treatment like this. Pay once, twice, three times, and the aura of exploitation dissolves, and with it, the contradictions implicit in getting a massage, or a waxing, or a mud wrap: You’re naked, but nothing explicitly sexual is going on; the touch is intimate, but the toucher is a stranger. The name she tells you may not be her real name. What’s happening is not medical, though the props that surround you—the glass jar of blue fluid, the hygienic oven—encourage that illusion. And yet you are in charge: You’re the customer.
Nussbaum spends most of the article explaining how many New York spas, at least those that are more affordable to the average consumer (read: middle class) are little more than sweatshops with pretty, earth-toned façades, and presented instances of women who had challenged the system, like Susan Kim, who led a lawsuit against two Upper East Side spas in October of 2007. It’s undeniable that the spa industry has its flaws, just as any other, and it’s important that we not gloss over them. Though as I read the comments in preparation for this piece, I noticed that many readers accused Nussbaum of projecting her experience too heavily, applying it to her analysis. In other words, they thought Nussbaum had already come to a conclusion on the spa industry and was now looking for a way to support her conclusion by providing biased information. I wondered whether or not the audience had become so incensed because the subjects of her article were women of color and/or women within the immigrant community. Could it be that those commenting shared Nussbaum’s discomfort, but cloaked their own denial of privilege in vitriol?
In reflecting on Nussbaum’s piece and my own personal experiences, I realized that seeing women of color on their knees scrubbing my feet or shining shoes in the basement of D.C.’s Capitol building (an image so disturbing that it became the focus of my college admission essay) were not the only things that bothered me. I felt the same way when I saw women who looked like me pushing children who weren’t theirs in strollers in Washington Square Park as I changed classes or young women carrying thousands on grocery bags from a gourmet market on the subway to a neighborhood in which they were not residents. Something about it just didn’t sit well with me. I, of course, realize that we must all have a means of surviving in this country, braving its ragged economy in order to make a living. I also fully realize that those who work hard have a right to treat themselves every now and then, to reward themselves if they so wish. But honestly, what gives? Is there a way to mitigate the feelings of discomfort or utter awkwardness when at spas or in situations in which you feel that the services you are receiving are in some way demeaning?
It’s a difficult question to answer, as are most of the ones that plague me on a daily basis, but I make a concerted effort to avoid places of business that seem to make matters worse. If I feel that the employees are being mistreated in a spa or seem generally intimidated by their boss, I avoid the place. I do the same for places that reek of fumes upon entry or where a manicure costs less than what I’d normally tip the beautician for the service in the first place. Those are at least small ways I can avoid being in the trenches of employee exploitation. If the spa is nice and conditions seem conducive to a healthy work environment, then great. But in the back of my mind, just like Nussbaum, I wonder is it all little more than an act, one to keep us from running out the door, wet nails and all?
Carmen Van Kerckhove is co-founder and president of
Theresa wrote:
Great article, Wendi – glad that you highlighted this experience, and I’m glad I am not the only one who feels this way about the very odd social implications of receiving a pedicure. I think the big question is – is this something that there is an answer to? I feel like nail salons are almost set up with intention of giving immigrant women from Asian countries a job upon arrival to the US. Maybe that puts too nice a spin on it – maybe they are set up to exploit the cheap labor those same women provide. Either way, should we look at this occupation as a gateway to better things, or as a deadend job that creates a subservient relationship between customer and employee? Guess it depends on the salon…
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 2:10 pm ¶
marge twain wrote:
I worked as a manicurist before I became a hairstylist. It’s definitely a pink collar job and the pay isn’t awesome but it’s something I went to school and earned my license for and I enjoyed it.
Women do often stick with it for many years because it’s fun, they get to sit while they work, all day they get to gossip and sometimes form good relationships with clients(they even recieve gifts and cards with money on holidays) Working in a spa environment with the soft music and candles really is relaxing.
I noticed that clients sometimes acted shy during the pedicure (I’m brown)but I was more comfortable when they were nonchalant about it. I think this was true also of my heavily-accented Vietnamese friend from cosmetology school who was still learning English. Most people who get these services are very well kept and clean and I never felt servile.
I understand where the poster is coming from, but I think it’s important to add that everyone I knew who worked in a spa enjoyed their work.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 2:27 pm ¶
Morgan wrote:
i’m white, and moving up in the world, i always freak out when i get a pedicure, because of the issues brought up in “Service”, and also the memories of working horrible service jobs. i have several friends of various ethnic/racial backgrounds who feel that way. the angst definitely lessens the pedicure experience.
i will say that i prefer to use the fancier spas because the girls there look like they are having more fun.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 2:46 pm ¶
Kat wrote:
“Ifeel like nail salons are almost set up with intention of giving immigrant women from Asian countries a job upon arrival to the US. Maybe that puts too nice a spin on it – maybe they are set up to exploit the cheap labor those same women provide.”
That issue can get very complicated. A lot of times nail salons are set up by immigrants in order to bring friends and family members over, and than those workers use their money and skills to start another shop, which is why you’ll have so many salons ownded by the same ethnic group in a limited area. Salons take less capital to start up than almost in other small business, which is why so many immigrants decide to start them.
I think the salon experience is as degrading or empowering as the owner and the client make it seem. It’s important to look around and see how workers are being treated, what’s being done with their tips, and whether the work environment is healthy. But if everything adds up, I think it’s the customers attitude that will make a worker feel degraded or not.
Anyone who’s ever worked in retail or food, even at nice, established, well paying chains has probably been made to feel servile and degraded at some point.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 3:18 pm ¶
Fatemeh wrote:
Both times I’ve had pedicures, I felt the same kind of discomfort, but you put it into words beautifully!
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 3:28 pm ¶
jd wrote:
My comfort level depends very heavily on how well I can speak with the employee. If we can chat, then I have a better idea of how ethical the business is and whether or not the employees are happy there. (also, I can try to deal with any remaining guilt or discomfort by being one of the “good” clients)
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 3:34 pm ¶
Wendi Muse wrote:
jd-
i totally agree. when i can speak the native language of the spa technician/beautician and/or if he or she is fluent in english, it makes things a lot more comfortable because communication is a possibility, though then again, like in my example regarding the nail tech whom i could totally see myself hanging out with, it then becomes an issue of well, would you let your friends scrub your feet?
there’s a very fine line.
i also agree with “good” vs. “bad” spa guest. when i see women or men who come into the spas and treat the people who work there as if their servants, it makes me realize that working on me may be the least of their worries. i do my best to be polite and communicative with the people who perform any type of service i request, and that certainly includes the people who attempt to make me look good
it’s too bad that some others neglect to do the same.
p.s. i’ll post my thoughts on some of the other comments later. i just wanted to add my two cents about JD’s as i was thinking this as i wrote the piece, but neglected to include it by accident!
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 3:40 pm ¶
Kareem wrote:
Fantastic read – while I can’t relate to the “spa” aspect, I do understand the feelings of guilt associated with receiving services from those in the service industry when it comes my dining habits.
I love to eat out, I love to eat in new places, but there is a feeling of uncomfortability that comes when people are “serving” me… a waitress at the bar making my drink, the guys in the back cooking my food – questions arise (OverThink curse) if those in the back sweating and washing pots are being fairly treated and compensated.
I’ve stopped eating at places where I feel the workers were being mistreated, I tip extra (out of guilt? perhaps) if it appears the waitress or bartender is having a rough day, or if the person having a meal beside me left a weak tip.
I believe the guilt IS a good thing. It shows an understanding that the person providing the service “may” (and I say may because some in the service industries love what they do) be in a thankless job, where they deal with individuals on a daily basis that are deluded by notions of “entitlement.”
It is a psyche check I’ve always been fascinated by. One of my favorite thinkers in the social sciences, Slavoj Zizek sees the role of guilt as the way in which an individual (or populous) enjoys his subjection to the laws of society, guilt is the result of understanding one’s commitments to society. What laws are we subjecting ourselves to? Common descency….
So in the spa example, guilt is serving as a pair of “ruby sunglasses”, its a filter that many individuals (that take advantage of the service industry) lack.
A humanity check – a realization of while you have the right to treat yourself to a “service” the person providing it is no less human, and deserves to be treated as such.
It is the “political economy of jouissance” – and helps maintain societal order or structure.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 4:59 pm ¶
Kareem wrote:
Hmm extends beyond just dining habits in hindsight, I refuse to let the janitor empty my trash in the mornings or sweep/clean the floor, Do it myself.
It upsets (angers) me seeing him take down to the dumpster the bags of trash that accumulate during the week…. as employees walk by oblivious, so I help him out.
When I was told it isn’t my job to clean up, and it was his, I had to remind the person it also isn’t my job to be a self-entitled asshole, and I do have two hands.
Guilt is a good thing, keeps us human.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 5:19 pm ¶
Bianca Reagan wrote:
I don’t get manicures or pedicures for fear of the bacteria growing in those basins, along with a story I heard about a woman who got herpes on her hands while getting her nails done. Now she can’t touch her children without gloves. Ew. My germophobia prevents me from feeling guilty.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 6:17 pm ¶
Colin wrote:
Kareem,
Then, shouldn’t guilt be a call to action?
When do I feel a service is demeaning? Usually when giving a tip, I feel like I’m acting high society if I give too much or I’m miserly if I’m giving too little. Either way it’s a strange experience that makes me feel like I have an odd sort of advantage over the attendant.
My other thought on this topic related more to how Wendi got to the idea in the first place. Now, I read the post and personal experience and point of view had of course a lot to do with it, but something that at least is true for me is a bit different.
I think there is an expectation that even if we do actively try to only patronize good working environments or we go out of our way to be friendly and humane to people attending to us (Even if you feel no guilt, do you want your server pissed? The masseuse? The barber?) that others will inevitably be jackasses, and so one should be nice as if that’ll “balance out” the bad and good customers. Do this make sense? I personally observe both as a customer and as a worker that some people seem to hold this notion that they have to be nice to service workers because someone, somewhere was a jerk beforehand. It’s neither here nor there, just an observation.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 6:38 pm ¶
Latoya Peterson wrote:
Nicely done Wendi.
In terms of spas, specifically, I don’t feel guilt at all. I think this is because (1) I tend to split my time between black owned Spas and Aveda and (2) I see people who work at a spa in the same way I would see holistic professionals or doctors. I afford a lot of respect to the position and I don’t think it is ever my place to demean someone because I happen to be paying them to do it. (Obviously, if I was the expert, I would do it myself…)
The issue gets a little trickier with nail salons as I have been patronizing them a lot longer and I bargain shop – what is the best trade off between quality and quantity?
The women there are professionals as well, and while I do feel a little weird paying some else to scrub my feet I generally realize that I am incompetent at these kind of grooming things and I would rather have a professional do it. I don’t feel the slave/master dynamic personally – maybe because I know a couple people who own nail salons or have worked in one? – but I think some people do internalize some feeling of superiority that comes with being provided this kind of service.
Because of where I live and what I like to have done, most of the technicians I get are close to my age, normally in school (medicine and science are popular majors), and have the air of professional detachment that I love. They remind me of me, waitressing. Happy to do my job, but it isn’t the be all end all of my life so we’ll get along great if you recognize that.
We chat for a few minutes about what I want, talk briefly about something pleasant, and then they return to their conversation and I get to pull out a magazine. Win-win in my book.
Then again, it may be different for other people. I think some of the discomfort may come from seeing these women as exploited labor than actual professionals – but again, it’s like Wendi says above. You try to make the best judgment call you can.
Colin – have you ever worked in a position where you depend on tips? I find that there is a lot of carryover into my life from being a waitress for a few years. I tip 20-25% depending on what people in the industries tell me is appreciated. Some customers try to make service roles into an advantage/disadvantage situation but I never really thought that…and I have never been mad at someone tipping me a little extra. After all, restaurants get to pay their workers around $2 an hour because they expect you will be tipped – and they charge you more to “tip out” the other service staff.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 7:11 pm ¶
marge twain wrote:
Waiting tables in restaurants is not at all like being a manicurist. Spa employees don’t depend on tips as their main source of income and they are not underpaid by owners because of tips. I have also waitressed and in my experience it was much harder, thankless work.
It seems like people in the comments here are navel-gazing about their guilt and projecting that onto service employees. There doesn’t need to be an assumption that they are oppressed people. I don’t like being treated like I and my peers deserve this attitude.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 7:30 pm ¶
marge twain wrote:
There seems to be guilt based on low prices and my experience is that many customers don’t really understand why there are different prices. When it comes to price, you can expect to get what you pay for. People who are just starting out charge the least or work at low-price salons. As we build our client base with more experience we raise our prices or move to a more expensive place, just like someone else might get a raise. We can also move up to a higher commission from the salon/spa or negotiate a situation where we rent space in the salon and keep all profits and tips. For so many women it’s a good low-stress job with a lot of flexibility.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 7:44 pm ¶
Latoya Peterson wrote:
Hey Marge –
Spa employees may not depend on tips, but some nail technicians do. It depends on the salon, but one of my friends did tell me that their wage was obscenely low. (Not quite low that the gov’t allows for waitressing, but potentially illegal low.) I am talking about the stand alone places in strip malls; not the posh spots where pedicures are over $25.
I do cosign on the last paragraph. I have read the reports of workers being abused at the independent places, but again – I am paying licensed professionals for a service. I treat them as such.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 7:45 pm ¶
marge twain wrote:
Hey Latoya,
Thanks for the thoughtful post. That very cheap nail salons pay very little is true, even in a legal commission situation. You seem to be focusing on illegal stuff and immigrants are more likely to find themselves in those situations, unfortunately. I think the phenomenon of women feeling guilt at an apparant power differential between themselves and nail techs actually happens across the board.
What troubles me here is the assumption of oppression. I think there is a racial aspect to this especially when salon/spa workers are Vietnamese. Also, the idea some people have here that guilt can be mitigated by patronizing expensive places(or places that employ English-speakers)is akin to a (hypothetical, I know)progressive white woman feeling uncomfortable with employing a black maid or Filipino nanny so she goes and hires white ones instead.
I just want people to examine where it comes from instead of just being proud of themselves for feeling sympathy.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 8:31 pm ¶
glennameeks@yahoo.co wrote:
I’ve never felt any guilt about getting any service I’m paying for. I just treat the employee like I’d like to be treated. I’m polite, I tip and say thank you. I love massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, getting my house cleaned and anything else I can afford that makes my like easier and more enjoyable. I work hard and deserve it all and wish I had more time to pamper my tired worn out pathetic body. The people performing the service deserve to get paid for it. It’s a job for god sakes. It’s not slavery.
Posted 08 Feb 2008 at 10:00 pm ¶
Colin wrote:
Latoya,
I’ve applied for jobs with tips, but no dice on that front. The only people who seem to think I have any skills are political action committees, issue campaigns and the like. Not that I’m complaining.
It’s not, though, that I think the wait staff or some other attendants would be pissed with a big tip. It’s more my own internal worry that I am acting too haughty and arrogant by tipping a lot. That has more to do, I believe, with my own psyche about the situation than what the other side of the equation thinks.
Posted 09 Feb 2008 at 1:16 am ¶
marge twain wrote:
Wow, glennameeks, that’s so reasonable. Thanks for not patronizing
p.s. If anyone does become aware of illegal spa/salon worker exploitation, there is something you can do. Contact your state cosmetology board. You should be able to find contact info online and file an anonymous complaint.
Posted 10 Feb 2008 at 3:05 am ¶
Wendi Muse wrote:
i thought i’d address something in general here. i don’t liken domestic servitude or childcare or working in the spa industry as being akin to slavery. NOT AT ALL.
i don’t think it’s odd to feel slightly uncomfortable, however, if someone is cleaning my feet…just as some people feel uncomfortable receiving bikini waxes . . . or even having a breast exam. we often have things that make us uncomfortable, for whatever reason (though often as a result of socialization…i.e. the associations made with regard to feet), and that’s normal.
sometimes the feeling of discomfort subsides over time and from frequently receiving the service, and other times it doesn’t. and to be quite honest, one is totally entitled to those feelings of discomfort, and i don’t blame them for it.
i also don’t think it’s odd to patronize shops that seem to treat their employees well. my big complaint with regard to low-end, more inexpensive nail salons/spas, the ones that the avg person may frequent, is employee mistreatment. it’s naive for us to assume that everything in every spa is just peachy. there has been legal precedent set that backs my point.
the guilt that i would feel in such a place would be similar to one who felt odd wearing clothes made by children in southeast asia…and the shops i choose to frequent and my behavior while receiving the services is akin to that same person choosing to no longer buy clothes made in a sweatshop as a result of his or her awareness + guilt and subsequent action. i agree with kareem that sometimes guilt and sympathy can compel lots of change, especially on a personal level because one experiences the guilt personally/on their own and finds that he or she can then act as an individual to help in some way, no matter how small.
but backing up a bit, the language element mentioned above cannot be ignored either. it’s not that i feel “better about myself” if my beautician speaks english and/or if i can communicate with her in her native language. it’s more that i feel that english fluency, for example, in the united states at least puts someone in advantage with regard to his or her awareness of his/her rights. if i were to become a nail technician in korea, and spoke no korean besides that which was needed for work, my knowledge of worker’s rights or a handle on how much i should be paid or even a familiarity with elements of work culture (like how many breaks through the day were acceptable or how much i should be getting tipped for a specific service or whether or not certain tasks were technically beyond my job description) would be limited. like another reader said above, i try to gauge how happy the beauticians are in discussions with them and it helps me decide on whether or not I will continue in that specific place of business. even if it means asking those questions in a mutual language besides english, i make sure i do it. i don’t want to be a participant in the mistreatment of one’s employees.
i also recognize that not all nail spas are bad. quite the contrary. i’ve had good luck in choosing and patronizing nicer places with happy employees. but i think some people are oblivious to or don’t care about those elements so long as their getting a bargain. the guilt factor never kicks in.
Posted 10 Feb 2008 at 1:09 pm ¶
Wendi Muse wrote:
yikes, and sorry that was an essay
Posted 10 Feb 2008 at 1:10 pm ¶
anonymous wrote:
Great post. I remember reading the article “A Stranger’s Touch,” and never felt quite right about getting spa treatments since. I used to get manis and pedis, and the occasional waxing done. I do must stuff at home now, using the cash that went to paying someone else for services to buy better products for at-home use. If I need help, my hubby is actually willing to, sot the weird intimacy thing that happens in some spa services isn’t there.
I think I’ve been on the other end of the class/service guilt thing as a babysitter. I’m a black grad student, and occasionally 2 families babysit for extra cash (it pays a heck of a lot better now that I’m a late-20-something than it did when I was a teenager). I am friendly with both mothers, and particularly chummy with one. I think this situation is great for both of us; it makes my work more pleasant and even gives me a friend, and for them, it alleviates any questions of exploitation, as they know I could be doing something else with my spare time and would have been in the position to ask for more money if I felt I needed it.
However, we’re probably both aware of the fact that there are people who could use the money more, and indeed would work for less. I think that this issue is a similar one to what Marge brought up in comment #16.
Posted 10 Feb 2008 at 1:48 pm ¶
Yoli wrote:
Isn’t this a little elitist? Feeling sorry for the lady who does your pedicure is insulting. She is doing a job, earning money, it’s a decent living. I don’t pity her she is not my servant/slave, she is providing a paid service.
Posted 12 Feb 2008 at 2:55 pm ¶
Wendi Muse wrote:
just because it’s a paid service, doesn’t always mean it’s fair or right. sweatshop workers are paid too, but the work done for the amount of wages received is not correlative. i don’t pity nail technicians who are working in healthy environments. i am merely expressing a discomfort in having someone scrub my feet, as an example, if they are not deemed an “equal” in social terms on account of race, gender, class, nationality, citizenship status, whatever. it’s especially uncomfortable for me as a woman of color myself, to be served by other women of color, in a position that has normally been reserved for those of lesser societal value (society’s terms, not mine) i.e. the poor.
i never said i felt sorry for anyone, not once. i did however, express discomfort, which a lot of people seem to share, with getting pampered due to the stratifications we have in society. if everyone happened to be on an equal playing field or if cleaning floors or feet were on the same level as being a doctor, then i probably would not feel that way. it’s more of an internal struggle to renegotiate those terms.
Posted 12 Feb 2008 at 4:09 pm ¶
Nancy wrote:
Maybe spa experience is the most agregious example of the power dynamic between those of us with privilege (regardless of color) and those without. But my experience is that every service I receive is similar. Hotels, restaurants, car wash, gardening, produce picking, store clerks, construction. Most of the hard, unpleasant, direct work in this country is performed by folks who are both People of Color and poor. Not to notice that and have some emotional reaction to the unearned privilege lacks both awareness and compassion. I may not see it as clearly, but it is all much like having another woman being paid a pittance to sit at my feet and pamper me.
Posted 12 Feb 2008 at 6:13 pm ¶
MomOfColor wrote:
Guilt is not a replacement for Respect. If we’re not “comfortable” or feel “guilty”, then we need to re-examine our priorities in these situations. The article below is from someone who helps women in situations akin to slavery and STILL gets pedicures.
Moving beyond guilt to respect and to action empowers us all.
http://www.womenforwomen.org/documents/FinalPDFofsummerissue.pdf
Posted 12 Feb 2008 at 6:44 pm ¶