Questioning the Domestic Ideology: Letters to Betty Friedan on The Feminine Mystique, 1963-1964

The Friedan Manuscript Collection. Schlesinger Library Manuscript Collections. Radcliffe College. Cambridge, Massachusetts.

14 May 1963

Massachusetts

My life spans the two eras--the ebb tide of feminism and

the rise of the "mystique." My parents were products of the early twentieth century Liberalism and believed firmly that everyone--poor, Negroes, and women too--had a right to have a “rendezvous with Destiny”. . . . My feeling of betrayal is not directed against society so much as at the women who beat the drums for the “passionate journey” into darkness. . . . My undiluted wrath is expended on those of us who were educated, and therefore privileged, who put on our black organza nightgowns and went willingly, joyful[sic], without so much as a backward look at the hard-won freedoms handed down to us by the feminists (men and women). The men in my experience, were interested by-standers, bewildered, amused, and maybe a bit joyful at having two mommies at home--one for the children and one for themselves. . . . My children grew up in the mystique jungle but somehow escaped it.

13 March 1963

New Jersey

. . . [I am] the mother of five and the wife of a successful partner in an investment banking firm. In seeking that something "more" out of life, I have tried large doses of everything from alcohol to religion, from a frenzy of sports activities to PTA . . . to every phase of church work . . . Each served its purpose at the time, but I suddenly realized that none had any real future. Our children are all in school except for the baby. . . . However, I felt that if I waited until she's in school I'll be too close to forty to learn any new tricks. I've seen too many women say they would "do something" when the last child went to school. The something has usually been bridge, bowling or drinking.

21 January 1963

New York

. . . Since scientific findings reveal the strong effect of the child's environment upon the child, the poor mother has been made to replace God in her omnipotence. It is the terror of this misinterpreted omnipotence that in many cases is keeping women home. I still remember the tear-stained face of a brilliant young woman economist who had earned a Ph.D. in her field when she had to give up a newly discovered exciting job because her pediatrician convinced her that her six- and three-year-old children would become social menaces without her presence 24 hours a day. . . . [Quoting a school official] "Show me a delinquent child and I'll show you a working mother."

24 August, 1963

Pennsylvania

. . . I entered graduate school at Yale, met a man, left school, and married in 1951. I have since then moved thirteen times, lived in eight states, had four miscarriages and produced two children. . . . Finally, when I fill out the income tax now, it is occupation: Painter, not housewife. . . . My one advantage over the rest of my generation is, I suppose, the fact that I was raised in a family of feminists. . . . I still tend, belatedly and belligerently, to champion women's rights. The cloying and sentimental public effort of the last decade to raise the prestige of the home and represent it as demanding all that we have to give has more than once precipitated me into incoherent outrage. . . .

New York

. . . What is wrong with the women trapped in the Feminine Mystique is what's wrong with men trapped in the Rat Race. . . . Isn't it true, that one of the problems, the biggest really, of our present day society is that there isn't enough meaningful creative work for anyone these days? Isn't that one of the reasons fathers are taking their parental role with the seriousness of a career?

23 April 1963

Massachusetts

For the last few years, I have been on the "old housekeeping merry-go-round.". . . I cleaned and I cleaned. . . and then I cleaned some more! All day--every day. My mother had returned to teaching school when I was twelve, and I had resented it, and consequently vowed that when I married and had children I would make it my vocation. I was quite convinced that I was very happy with my role in life as we had our own home and my husband is a good husband and father and a very sufficient provider. However, one night last November, all Hell broke loose in my psyche. I was sitting calmly reading when I became overwhelmed with waves of anxiety. I couldn't imagine what was happening. . . . I visited my family doctor. He put me on tranquilizers and diagnosed it as a mild state of anxiety. However there was no explanation. . . . I see now . . . I chose security over everything else. . . . I felt I had something more to offer the world and wanted to do something about it. . . . I now have a goal and no longer feel like a vegetable.

[The following writers take issue with Friedan and describe the hardships of working wives and mothers.]

4 August 1964

New Jersey

Most of us would be delighted to chuck the wage earning back in our husbands' laps and devote ourselves exclusively to homemaking and community projects. We worry about the children while we're at work. We don't really like to throw the last load of clothes in the washer at 11:30 P.M., and set the alarm for 6:00 so we can iron a blouse for a school age daughter, fix breakfast and school lunches all at the same time, do as much housework as possible before bolting for the office, and face the rest of it, and the grocery shopping and preparing dinner when we get home. This isn't our idea of fulfillment. It doesn't make us more interesting people or more stimulating companions for our husbands. It just makes us very, very tired.

29 May, 1964

Pennsylvania

Believe me, a modern woman of today would have to be four women to be everything that is expected of her. . . . My husband wants me to work not for the satisfaction I might get out of working, but for the extra money he will have for himself. . . . But, how about the extra burden it would put on me? I would go out to work if possible, but I cannot do that and come home to a house full of screaming kids, dishes piled in the sink, and mountains of laundry to do. It is no fun to come home and see the sweet, dear, lazy bum asleep on the couch after being on my feet all day. He still likes his home-made pies, cakes, and appetizing meals. . . . I have worked in stores; the post-office; given dinners for a pot and pan outfit; minded children; and sold things door-to-door. At present, I take in sewing and ironing. . . . If I work, then my housework suffers and I get told about that. I would like nothing better than to just do my own work, have some time to myself once in a while so I could just go down-town once in while without having someone else's work staring at me. I get very tired of reading about women working outside the home. . . . I cannot divide myself into more than one person. . . . I have plenty to occupy my time and I happen to enjoy being a house-wife. . . . My husband . . . thinks it's great for women to work, but until men get some of their Victorian ideas out of their heads then I am staying home. Unless he would be willing to help with the housework then I cannot go to work. He thinks he would lose some of his masculinity if anyone saw him hanging out the wash, or washing dishes. And if he had to give up any of his fishing or hunting or running around visiting his buddies to keep an eye on the kids, well, I'm not killing myself for the almighty dollar.

[This writer disagrees with Friedan from the perspective of her emigrant family of the 1930s]

23 October 1963

New York

. . . the emigrant mother often had to work not only in her home, but outside as well, under the most harrowing conditions. . . . For the son, it was important and necessary to obtain an education, so he could escape the sweatshop labor of his father. for the daughter, however, the most precious legacy was an escape from the hard work and drudgery of her mother and the attainment of leisure--the very leisure this emigrant mother never knew herself, and which she so desperately needed. . . . To this emigrant mother, education was only necessary for her son to get a better job, and the daughter, with nothing else besides her femininity, would, with luck, marry well and thereby achieve the leisure her mother never knew.