Leaving Berkeley after 35
years: An Interview with Arlie Hochschild [1] / Alena
Køížková
In May of this year I was working on a research project at Berkeley.
There I met Arlie Hochschild, whose formal academic career as a
professor of sociology at Berkely University for the past 35 years was
about to end. I had the opportunity to visit one of her classes and
discuss research methodology and ways of writing up results. We also
spoke about the differences between American and Czech gender regimes.
At that time I got the idea of asking Arlie if she would do an
interview for this journal, and she agreed. Arlie’s knowledge
and experience enable her to clearly and concisely analyze, formulate
and produce unique ideas about our daily lives. She has introduced into
sociology concepts such as the second shift, the stalled revolution,
management of emotions, emotional work, the time bind, and many more.
Arlie has been a major contributor to the field of sociology and we are
grateful for the time she spared for this interview.
Arlie Hochschild is the
author of The Unexpected Community (1973), The Managed Heart (1983),
The Second Shift (1989), The Time Bind (1997), Global Woman: Nannies,
Maids and Sex Workers in the New Economy (co-edited with Barbara
Ehrenreich, 2002) and
The Commercial Spirit of Intimate Life and Other Essays (2003). Her
books have been translated in many languages, but none are yet
available in Czech.
Alena
Køížková: You developed the concept
of management of emotions and feelings, so I would like to ask you
about when you yourself last had to manage your emotions?
Arlie Hochschild:
Oh! That is fascinating! When did I have to manage my emotions last?
Yes. Today is Friday. Last Monday was a very emotional day for me
… because it was the last day of a class, a large
undergraduate class, here; and it’s the last large
undergraduate class I will teach after 35 years of what has been for me
a calling; it’s not just a job. And on my way to work, I mean
to this class, I ran into a colleague who said, “Oh, I
dedicated my last class to you and your work.” Well, I welled
up with emotion at this, I thanked him, and then was walking on
thinking: “I can’t, I can’t cry in my own
class, I’ve got to be organized and in control.
It’s okay to be feeling full but not to, what Goffman calls,
“flood out”. So, I was turning my mind to what I
had organized to say and trying to shut my feelings off, but then a
student came up to me just as I opened the door: “Oh,
isn’t this your last class?” and then I caught
myself again. So I decided to slide with my feelings a little bit, and
so I opened the class by saying: “My friends, we have come to
the end of our journey in this class, and I also have come to the end
of a personal journey.” I’m sad even recounting it.
And then I said to them, “Look, I hope I get through
this.” So they were with me then, and I summarized the main
points of the class and ended with a joke and wished them good luck;
and then there was a silence in the class, and then all the students
threw out confetti and noisemakers and streamers, as if it were a New
Year’s Eve party; and then they stood for about 5 minutes;
and then I could not manage my feelings. I just wept. I was overcome,
and so I just cried in front of them. And then they started coming up
afterwards as class ended and giving me hugs. I know I represent some
kind of motherly figure to them or something, and authority, but it was
like suddenly they were helping me through this moment. And it
especially moved me that one of the students who had bought the
streamers – I think she was the one – was very poor
and had to do babysitting to earn the money to get the streamers; and
she is a Latina student, the first in her family to come to the
university.
Alena
Køížková: How do you feel at the
beginning of the new career that is waiting for you?
Arlie Hochschild:
Oh, wonderful! I’m first of all not totally leaving this
career. I’m working with 12 Ph.D. students and I’m
going to see them through finishing their work, and I’ll be
back to teach graduate courses from time to time. But new is this next
big project, which is to understand how women cope with the
contradiction of capitalism. More women now work. They work longer
hours than 20 years ago. And government supports are being cut. Job
security has lessened. She is free, but she is free in the cold, hard
market. She doesn’t have time. But one thing she has a bit of
is money. So she is very tempted to use that money to buy services
– to get out of doing the work of the home. But to others and
to herself, she still symbolizes “home”. So if she
buys a “Thanksgiving dinner” from the deli, if she
hires someone to plan her child’s birthday, if she puts her
mother in an old-age home, it is she – not others –
who is seen as heartless. I think it creates a dilemma that on the one
hand she is pushed at the office so that she yearns for some relief.
But then she is asked to represent the only piece of family life
that’s left – wife/mother – that is not
marketized, so she’s an emblem of the “forever
wild,” kind of sacred haven in a heartless world; she is to
represent that. On the other hand, she can’t and
doesn’t entirely want to, and so she can be the moral
fallback guy of the system; she’s the one that’s
blamed if it seems fake. She’s buying herself out of the
role. Well, she can’t win. And so I guess I want to write a
book that makes this clear.
So that’s one project that I want to get to work on, and I
also want to write a book on empathy, and this may turn into two
projects, one more basic and long-term, and one more immediate; but in
the immediate term, I’m very interested in why the
blue-collar class in the United States has supported George Bush, who
is doing everything he possibly can to make their lives worse,
including sending their sons to war and reducing long-term unemployment
[compensation] and reducing job retraining programs and taking away
good jobs, putting in lousy jobs, calling it economic growth, and
again, they are the fall guys of this capitalist system, and yet
they’re identifying with George Bush, who I think is a very
frightening figure in our history. And it’s because they
don’t empathize with the poor, I think; they want to get away
from that. So I’m extremely interested in that, and
it’s gotten me interested in religion and the religious right
wing. In the US the Evangelical Protestant church has grown very
rapidly; it is very right wing, very against feminism, against
government services, against minorities, pro-Bush, pro-military. It is
the twin-brother of Muslim fundamentalism. It’s dangerous.
So, I want to know, why has it grown? (I wrote an article on this
called “The Chauffeur’s Dilemma”, The
American Prospect, 2005) At bottom I believe the church addresses
frightened blue-collar men and their families. One of their core
beliefs is in the “rapture”. According to the
“rapture” the world is coming to an end, and after
it does, the saved will rise up to Heaven and join all the other saved
people and the damned will go to Hell; and if you look at the American
blue-collar man, his world of factory work really has come to an end.
Those well-paid, union-protected jobs are no more. And rise to Heaven?
What is that? I think it metaphorically parallels the social class
divide. The poor will at least get to go to an upper class party with
George Bush and his friends leaving the poor behind. The rapture
appeals to what they anxiously desire, and it’s kind of a
religious substitute for what they can’t get in their real
life. So I guess I want to go out and interview people and hang out in
churches and kind of see if I can get inside that story.
Alena
Køížková: And in the long term?
Arlie Hochschild:
In the long term … I have a number of other projects. I
think I will circle back to The
Managed Heart to look at all the work that we
unconsciously do to live in a market-drenched culture and will circle
back to the stalled revolution and feminism and to the question of
equal to what? That is a basic question that underlies all of my work.
Equal yes, equal always, but equal to what? In our culture this is
especially important because the revolutionary potential of feminism
has been, I believe, set aside, and a kind of assimilationist feminism,
what we used to call liberal feminism, has come to the fore. According
to which the definition of liberation is that you get to be, in Gloria
Steinem’s words, like “the father you never
saw.” Equal to what? Is that where we’re going? It
wasn’t the original idea; I mean the original idea was to
change him, too. So I guess I’ve seen various models of
feminism, and the one I like is actually the Scandinavian model, where
you have a shorter workweek and you have paid parental leave and you
have all women working. It’s not perfect, God knows, but I
don’t know of one in the real world that comes closer to a
kind of revolutionary answer to “equal to what?”
Yeah, it would be great if both men and women were able to do
meaningful work, let’s get homeless orphans into warm homes,
not make up a new ad for Pepsi.
Alena
Køížková: Yes, it is very much the
question of care that I wanted to ask you about. What do you think the
welfare state, the American welfare state, if we can somehow call it
that, how is it influencing women’s and men’s lives
when you compare it, for example, with the Scandinavian one, or if we
take the example of the Czech Republic. We have maternity and parental
leave, which together is quite a long period: the 28 weeks of maternity
leave is only for women, and then until the child is three there is
parental leave; it is very poorly paid, but you can stay at home with
your child, and your employer assures your position at work. I consider
the length of it to be a kind of discriminating factor for all women.
Because men almost never take part in it, and all employers are
expecting you to take it, women often lose their qualifications during
this time, etcetera. What do you think is better, if I put it very
simply: the American system, where you have only six weeks, or then
this long term, which should help women and parents, but on the other
hand is a big burden?
Arlie Hochschild:
Right. Well, there are problems both ways. Neither is ideal. What is
missing in both cases is any cultural or political value placed on
care. So I think that is a very basic issue to which we can reply in a
number of ways. The American system says: “You can make it.
But you’re on your own. The government won’t help
much. If you are poor, you only get five years of help,
that’s it. If you want unpaid leave, you can take three
months off, job assured, but only if you work for a business that
employees fifty or more employees. But that rule disqualifies half of
women workers. So we stand out in the industrial-developed world as the
least caring, the most aggressively uncaring, society, and the ethos is
one of privatism: If you want to have a child, or have an elderly
parent who is sick, or a partner who has just had a heart attack,
that’s up to you; and we’re not going to help you.
So, you can say, well, stiff upper lip; this is liberation;
you’re free now, you’re equal in this system; you
can say that. I call that a cold modern culture of care and a cold
modern idea of equality because it’s simply asking women to
join in a quite harsh, I think masculinist, conception of life, because
men haven’t been the ones to do care. It’s more of
a man’s view of things to create a society that
doesn’t look at care, so I’m critical of that;
that’s why I look more to Scandinavia.
The Czech system that you are suggesting answers one problem and
creates another. It answers one problem in the sense that
it’s a little more generous, although nothing like Norway,
but these care benefits are within a system that doesn’t
honor it, so you get an advantage within a macrosystem that considers
it a disadvantage, so it’s kind of a sponsored downward
mobility, and that is not a solution either.
I think the ultimate solution is to create generous care packages that
allow for the care of children and sick members and give you
– in Norway they have care salaries – but to have
them equally used by men and women. Then you have a level playing
field. But then you need a culture, and a politics, that fosters that.
Of course, in Sweden there are benefits that only can be used if men
use a certain proportion of them; that’s an interesting idea.
So I am critical of both of those models and would call for a third. We
are all in a stalled revolution; we’re not there yet.
Alena
Køížková: Let’s stay at
this work/life balance issue. I would like to know on which side you
stand in this, I would say, theoretical conflict between those that
think it’s all a matter of individual choice, because women
now can choose, can design their life, or that it’s a given
by conditions, and our society is totally gender-structured. What do
you think about this divide? There are different theorists, for
example, the discussion in Great Britain between Catherine Hakim and
Rosemary Crompton: Hakim has been saying that it’s all a
matter of choice because there have been revolutions like contraception
or equality legislation, simply put, and Rosemary Crompton is focusing
on the conditions and the opportunities that society is giving to
different types of women according to their position, where they are
coming from in our society.
Arlie Hochschild:
Women have more choice today than before in the United States and in
the Czech Republic, in Europe, but capitalism is invisibly distorting
that freedom. We can vote. We can own our own property. We can take out
loans. Even in the 1950s in the US, you couldn’t take out a
loan to buy a house without your husband’s signature. With
contraceptive methods, we can sexually express ourselves. And women can
now get jobs and have careers; so this is all, of course, self-evident.
But we are moving into an all or nothing culture that removes our new
freedoms by the backdoor. For example, a woman may choose to work in a
career as a lawyer and she may choose to make partner in the law firm;
this is her personal choice. But you can only make partner in the law
firm if you work 11 hours a day, take it or leave it. Can she choose
the atmosphere in the workplace? No. Is it a family-friendly workplace
where both men and women understand that life is a combination of
personal life and career? No. That constructs the options she has.
Another example; our government is pulling away safety nets; even
Social Security is now being challenged by the Republicans, and the
marketplace is doing the same: it’s reducing benefits;
it’s reducing health insurance. This creates a culture of
anxiety and fear. That culture creates, in turn, a desire for some
magic wand to banish fear. The wand? Money. If you lived in a culture
that gave you some security, then social class attainment
wouldn’t be such a big deal, and your choices would be
different. So we tend to presume the floors we walk on, and
that’s what’s wrong with, I think, the
individualistic worldview.
Take the same thing with sexual freedom. Yes, women have sexual
freedom, and this is wonderful, but what if you live in a sexual
culture that’s masculinized, and where women get older and
older and older, and men are making themselves commitment-scarce
because they can wait till they’re 45. And what if that
becomes culturally acceptable, for men not to acknowledge the realities
of reproduction? Well you’re free to be a single mom;
you’re free to get in vitro fertilization, or are you? Or are
you? If you only look at the freedom of choice, and you’re
not looking at the cultural infrastructure in which you are forced to
make those choices, you’re really defining freedom in a very
narrow way. Feminism contests sexual norms. We get to say: Wait a
minute, is this good for women? Or is it just good for men? Why are we
getting used to this? You know; this isn’t made up
for us and our bodies, and we could change it. Cultural writing and
social movements have the power to shift cultures, power to shift the
contexts, which are what give us our freedom. Freedom is in the
context. So we’ve got to change contexts. That’s
why we need a feminist movement.
Alena
Køížková: Okay, now I would like to
go back to your work, and I would like to ask you about the authors
that influenced your work the most. Can you describe how they
influenced you and at what stage in your career.
Arlie Hochschild:
Yes. I think the three writers that first opened my eyes to sociology
were Erving Goffman, David Riesman (The Lonely Crowd and Faces in
the Crowd), and C. Wright Mills (Power, Politics, and People, and
White Collar). But once I got to Berkeley, the feminist
movement itself; I almost want to give it a face and a name. And these
were not authors that I could talk to. I mean, Simone de Beauvoir and
Betty Friedan; The
Second Sex and The
Feminist Mystique were important texts, but they were only
the match that lit a kind of fire, an intellectual fire, that very much
influenced my thinking. And I began here in Berkeley the
Women’s Caucus. It was made up of graduate students
– I was an instructor here and found that women were dropping
out of the program. We had a 50 percent dropout rate in my year and the
next year after. But after we got the Women’s Caucus going
that dropout was much reduced. And in those meetings, we would begin to
say: “Well, what if sociology was shaped not around just the
lifestyles of men but of women? How would we conceive of social
mobility? Are you just comparing father and son or mother to daughter
or father to daughter? How should we think, you know? It was
revolutionary! What are social classes? Are women a social class, or
are they just part of the man’s social class, so
it’s social class by association? How does social class work?
You know, ethnicity: Is it the same for men and women?
Deviance: Is it the same for men and women? Small group organizations,
you know, social psychology: Is it the same for men and women? In what
ways is it different? Well, it just led to an invitation to
rethink the entire discipline. So I sat in one class after another,
writing a different curriculum in my head, and it wasn’t just
that all the texts were by men; even the ones by women reflected a kind
of a mental set that didn’t take the organization of gender
as primary. So if I look back on what influenced my thinking, the
starter theorists were these three, but then I got to Berkeley and
participated in really what was a collective rethinking, and that was
very influential for me. You could see much of my work as late answers
to those early questions. It was wonderful.
Alena
Køížková: What about figures like
Nancy Chodorow, who has been here at Berkeley? Did she somehow
influence you? Did you work with her?
Arlie Hochschild:
I worked with her; she was a colleague of mine; we are friends. Would I
say that I am in receipt of ideas from her work? I would say that in
her second book, The
Power of Feelings, I guess – which I found very
Talmudic and kind of abstracted – I find a very important
emphasis on systems of personal meaning, and I think that’s
extraordinarily important, and lost in a lot of sociology, which is
dividing things up into kinds of social-capital, cultural-capital,
emotional-capital, physical capital. I think: Wait a minute! These are
terms and categories that erase the kind of personal meanings that
Chodorow is lifting out for inspection. So I think that’s an
enormous gift, and I’ve learned a lot from her on that. And I
think that her Reproduction
of Mothering is accurate. I think it describes kind of the
psychodynamics of childhood in a very important way. I would say that
my own work is not psychoanalytic in the sense that her work is, but
that it’s an area in which I would, in my new career, like to
do a lot of reading. I think it’s an area I want to develop.
Alena
Køížková: Another project. And that
leads me to another question: Because you’ve spent 35 years
here at Berkeley, it would be interesting if you could describe how the
perception of the field – gender studies – has been
changing during this time, what it was like when you came here and what
it is like today. How has the perception developed, or has it already
been accepted much as it is now?
Arlie Hochschild:
It’s gone through a variety of stages. In the first stage,
the very idea of gender as a category was questioned, and people asked,
“Well, what do you mean? There’s no field there;
there’s nothing to study. There is the family; there is the
workplace; and we study men and women in each. But it’s like
people with blue hair or green hair or brown hair: You don’t
make sociology of brown-haired people because it doesn’t make
sense; it’s the same with men and women.” This was
where we started. So if you remember how bad it was when it started,
then we’ve come a very long way, a very long way, in
our establishment of categories of thinking. And there was a second
stage in which people talked about simply adding women onto the usual
sociology. But in the third stage, feminism became the source of a
great number of brilliant ideas, and these have been picked up in other
fields. And the ultimate test is whether one sees feminist-inspired
inquiries; that is, inquiries that use the classifications and styles
of thinking that were animated by a movement that challenged the gender
system. If you see those books on the reading lists of all the fields
taught by all the genders, then you’ve arrived; and I would
say we are a good way toward that here. We are a good way toward that
simply because a lot of good work has come out, and it’s been
positively reviewed and used, and students bring these ideas to their
professors: “Oh, have you read the
such-and-such-book?” He hasn’t read it, but after
the third student comes and says: “Oh, my mind’s
really been turned around by such-and-such a book,” then he
has to read it, and then he puts it on his list after a while. So
that’s how it’s happened, I think; a kind of a
revolution bottom up. We’ve come a great long way. Yeah.
Alena
Køížková: Last week at the
“leaving” session with the faculty you were trying
to show them and the students how they should write more interesting
texts, as you do. Could you describe your research process? We are
reading the wonderful books as the result, and they read so easily, are
written in such a fresh and inspiring way…
Arlie Hochschild:
It’s hard work to make it seem simple. All my books are a
long journey and a lot of work, a lot of re-writing. If I
took The Second Shift,
for example… and I wrote this at a time when many women were
trying to, were going out to work in droves, and there was a feminist
movement, which was a cultural bubble for women but not for men; and
many marriages were falling apart. And I began to think, well, wait a
minute. I really want this movement to work. I don’t want 30
years later for the daughters who grow up in these homes to say:
“Oh feminism only led to fights and unhappiness and
bitterness and poverty; what a stupid movement.”
Let’s make it happy, too, because then it can last. This was
what was on my mind, and so, okay, what’s the most difficult
issue in working this thing out? Well, it is this hidden invisible
issue of care and men not getting it that it’s really driving
women crazy, so how can I explain this both to the women and to the
men? Not just to talk about how who does what at home, which is an
obvious issue, but how people feel about it. That’s where it
gets complicated and fascinating and the underworld stories of the
resentment in families emerge in all their complexity. You find two
versions of reality, and you want to explain the women’s
version to men and the men’s version to women.
“Look”, you want to say to the men, “you
think it’s her second shift, but The Second Shift
(the book) is really about the second shift in you; she’s
already shifted; that’s the first shift. Now you’re
the second shift.” It’s a double – double entendre
– you know French. So I went in kind of with that concern.
Then I approached a Fortune 500 company here in the San Francisco Bay
Area and miraculously got permission to get their personnel roster and
pick every thirteenth name and send out a short questionnaire to men
and women … asking if they had a working spouse and a
pre-school age child. And from those I asked at the bottom of the
questionnaire whether they would be willing for an interview.
That’s how I got the sample. And so the second stage,
I’m there hearing stories. And then at the last stage, having
gotten sucked in, pulled myself out, written a number of drafts of
this, a number of drafts; there might have been twelve drafts of The Second Shift,
in a way redrafted each time for a different problem. And in fact, just
yesterday I got an e-mail from a woman who is Chapter 10 in The Second Shift
from 20 years ago, and she’s back in town and wants to have
lunch, and … So I’m very excited by
that, to see how she’s doing. Another couple invited me to
their summerhouse in Tahoe; they liked how they came out.
Alena
Køížková: I have a different
question now: When did you become a feminist, do you think?
Arlie Hochschild:
Oh … age three. I had an older brother who was very much
favored in the family. And I loved him very much; in our adulthood we
were very, very close. But growing up we fought a lot, and we both
agreed that he was the favored one in my mother’s eyes, and
since my father wasn’t around very much, these were the
important eyes. And yet my mother conveyed the feeling that men and
woman should be equal; boys and girls were equally valuable. But I
remember her saying that, “Well, what the girls do is just as
important as what the boys do,” and I thought, “Why
is she telling me that? Why does she have to tell me that? What reality
is that countering?” Something to look at here – I
think I was a sociologist already at a very young age – that
there were underlying realities that you had to expose to live
– to understand what’s happening to you. So, very
early ...
Alena
Køížková: And my last question is:
If you could change three things in American society that would benefit
women, what would they be?
Arlie Hochschild:
Wow! It’s a wonderful question! There are so many possible
answers to that. The obvious one would be to impeach George Bush. He
has militarized society; he has made it harsh; taken out any welfare.
And it’s mainly women; women are the poor group, women and
children, so when we’re talking poor, we’re talking
women, and he’s got an invisible war against the poor in this
country. So getting some kind of a Democrat would be number one. So I
would change that.
Then, second, I guess because care of all sorts does fall on women, and
women want to do care…and I want women to be able to do care
and to bring men into care and to value care. That would revolutionize
American society, I think. We are a very harsh, aggressive, masculinist
kind of culture without even knowing it. And, I mean, just look at the
ads for automobiles, you know, racing; and look at our sports, you
know, paintball, where you have a gun and you splash paint on someone,
and it’s considered fun. To go into a game parlor,
it’s all very aggressive. And television I think is full of
this stuff. So I think if care wasn’t this boring, stupid,
privatist, housewife thing to do, but was part of a collective calling
that people felt had dignity, so that we’re not just putting
old people off in warehouses for underpaid immigrant caretakers who are
appalled by it. They so disapprove of what America is doing.
We’re doing the same thing to our children. Childcare is
lousy, in 70 percent of childcare centers the television is on.
There’s a story we’re not looking at, and I want
feminism to pick this one up, rather than join the harsh show, join the
critique of the harsh show and make it more humane. So what practical
policy would I point to? Well, I would put a lot of money into
childcare; a lot of money into eldercare; I would make family-friendly
policies for men and women that encourage utilization by men and women,
so that there can be some private possibility of care. You know,
you’re caring for your own family to some extent, and the
institutions that help, those also have been lifted up. Then I think
something huge would have happened.
What I think is actually happening now is that we’re still in
a stalled revolution. Men are doing a little bit more at home; women
are doing a lot less; a lot of that work has been outsourced to poor
immigrant women. So I think we’ve gone ahead a little, but
gone back some on the second shift. The time bind; I think
we’re still in it, and rather than pulling both couples out
of it, both men and women out of it, such families are bringing their
children into it, so children have their own time bind to be parallel
with their parents’ time bind. So I’d like social
policies that solve the problem The
Second Shift points to and solve the problem The Time Bind
points to and solve the problem that Global Woman points
to. And I think solve the problem Commercialization
of Intimate Life points to, which is the
over-marketization of life.
Third, I would strengthen government, make it a progressive force to
create and in-balance capitalism. I think Habermas is right, that we
have a system world and a life world, and the system world, which is a
highly masculinized world, is growing larger and larger and the life
world smaller, and women are asked to be equal within that system world
and participate in the squashing of the life world. And
that’s, I think, the absence of a radical vision and a more
humanistic vision that I mean to animate all my work. I’m
holding out for that larger vision and equality within that larger
vision.
What I fear is that the American model is being exported to Europe,
maybe to the Czech Republic as glamorous, as associated with wealth and
success. But it’s a harsh model; it’s a flawed
model. I think it’s hurting people here, and I
don’t think it’s good if it hurts people anywhere
else.
I think it’s a big job, and that young women have to know
that the job is not done. We older women have tried our best, but
we’ve gotten only so far, and the young have to realize that
they’re not the happy inheritors of a gender revolution,
which has been accomplished, and so their only job is to live it. I
think the more profound truth is that they have to carry on the
unfinished job. But the life of working for social change, rather than
just consuming it, so to speak, the life of making it, is hugely
satisfying. It’s a good life to be an activist-scholar, you
know? It’s very rewarding.
Alena
Køížková: Are you optimistic even in
this world of multinational companies with their “cold
cultures”?
Arlie Hochschild:
In a new rebalanced capitalism we could rebalance our private
lives. But we need to act collectively to make it happen. In
the end, I would like to live in a world where we took care of each
other, where interdependence was politically honored and built into the
very structure of our notion of pride and identity, and so, you know,
turning what we have upside-down. Today, in a large multinational
company, one man would say to another: “Oh I worked so hard
on this project that I wasn’t even there for the birth of my
child. That’s how committed I am to the company,”
and it’s considered a matter of pride. Well, is that the
world we want to be equal in, or do we want to change that world? You
know, why are you saying that? Get into the hospital room right now!
You know?
[1] The realization and publication of this interview was supported by
the project „Work-Life Balance from the Pespective of Gender
Relations and Socal and Employment Policies in the Czech
Republic“ financed by Grant Agency of the Czech Republic
(grant no. 403/05/2474) and by the project „Support of Social
Acceptance and Efficient Enforcement of Gender Equality in Public
Sphere“ financed by Grant Agency of the Academy of Sciences
of the Czech Republic (grant no. 1QS700280503).