When my daughter finished her checkup at the orthodontist, I moved toward the front desk to schedule the next appointment.
“Should I call mom?” the receptionist said, smiling, proud, like she was saying something clever.
“That’s a bit sexist, isn’t it,” I said.
“Well, you’d be surprised.”
No, no, I wouldn’t be surprised. Not at all. This happens all the time. But it’s still galling when the orthodontist’s receptionist, with pastel-framed photos of her kids in view, reflexively goes for mom. Surely, she’s been interrupted with calls from schools and doctors’ offices that go to her for no reason other than she’s a woman and not a man.
Working Moms and Lead Dads are natural allies. But memes about clueless dads are strong – and easy laughs. If we want more equitable distribution of parental labor, we’ve got to work against the office and online stereotypes.
Lead Dads and Working Moms are already aligned in helping families fulfill their full potential. We’re doing so – particularly in the summer months, as in the 12 weeks my kids aren’t in school with only 7 weeks of camp – while trying to be productive at work, engaged at home, and in control of the calendar.
But what would happen if Working Moms, when they get those calls from the doctors’ offices, said: Why do you assume I’m the one to schedule this? Or in an office, the doctor encourages the receptionist to ask instead: Would you like to make the follow-up appointment now?
If the dad can’t manage his family’s calendar, he can punt. But the assumption should be that a father can put an orthodontist appointment in his phone just as well as a mother can. This is a skill-less task.
Little things have a big impact. They have the power to perpetuate or puncture stereotypes, including care at home and roles at work. As I got to say recently on The Today Show, has any father ever heard, You’re about to have another child – do you think you can handle the promotion?
I’d like to say that I was a stand-out exemplar for dads at the orthodontist today, but I got frustrated by the arcane rules around when certain procedures get scheduled – this one in the morning – and the immutable time for lunch (as if one of the ten people in the office couldn’t take a turn answering a phone at a time when every other working parent can call the doctor’s office?)
“If it’s a 45-minute appointment, why can’t I schedule it for 12pm?” I asked.
“Because lunch is at 12:45,” the receptionist answered.
“Right, that’s 45 minutes.”
“But they need to clean up before lunch.”
Orthodontists make sure we can all chew and smile like we should. But last I checked, no organs get transplanted that would require a deep clean.
As every parent knows, you have to pick your battles against arcane practices – so I took the 11:45 appointment and moved work around.
