Open Writing

Guilt is a nasty thing. It quietly gnaws away at us, ruining our day, week, month or year. As a working woman in Riyadh with a young son, I have experienced the ‘G’ word repeatedly of late.

I am in the enviable position of not having to work while living in the Kingdom. I could ride the shopping bus all day, attend coffee mornings at other compounds and lay by the pool from sunrise to sunset if I so wish.

This lifestyle soon grows tiring – for me at least – as I like the satisfaction and friendships gained from working. I also enjoy earning – and spending - my own money.
I am not currently working in my chosen profession of journalism and am losing precious experience for my eventual return to Australia, but work gives me a sense of reality in an otherwise insulated compound community.

Work is not guilt free for many and poses a conundrum for parents from Adelaide to Zurich – childcare. And while childcare in the Kingdom is freely available at very low rates, the standards vary widely.

Many families employ full-time, live-in maids and nannies. Some employ home help for a limited number of hours a day. Others, like me, use the nursery facilities located at the many preschools around Riyadh.

My son Faris started nursery at 10 months when I became a kindergarten teacher at an international school. Things went well, for a while. However, soon Faris was coming home with persistent coughs and colds. That was fine with me and not a complete surprise; children are expected to catch these minor ailments, it is a part of growing up and boosting their immature immune systems.

After a run of suspected chickenpox at the nursery, children were suddenly being diagnosed with hand, foot and mouth disease. Now I was terrified - images flashed before me of cows being euthanased and burned in huge piles.

I surfed the internet for symptoms and the treatment of this disease the second I got home. To my relief it turned out to be completely unrelated to the animal foot and mouth disease and is a common childhood viral infection similar to chickenpox. But every time my son broke out in a spot or rash – a common occurrence with his pale skin – I felt guilty.

Here I was, convinced my son would catch this highly contagious mouthful of sores and be miserable for a week, but still I took him to the nursery as if willing it to happen. My non-working friends were horrified. That was when I felt guilt for Faris. Later, I felt guilt for taking time off to care for my son at home.

As a home-room teacher I have responsibilities to my students and my assistant. When Faris recently became sick with early pneumonia and an ear infection, staying home was the only option for me. For five consecutive days the school phoned me and each day I had to explain why I wouldn’t be in. I was made to feel like a negligent employee taking an extended leisure break.

Now, after six weeks of intensive daily class training for the school concert, Faris is sick again. Naturally it is on the day of the concert.

Faris had a restless night but I made the usual preparations for school and off we set. He did not look well; his eyes, like mine, were bloodshot and puffy and he was listless. I decided I would stay for the concert then take him home. Fifteen minutes into the trip Faris decided to really prove his point and vomited all over the back seat.

I obviously couldn’t take him to school with a tummy bug so we turned around and headed home. On calling my assistant with the news, she called back after two minutes and asked if I could come just for our part of the concert. Faris could go to the nursery for a while.

Again I explained why I could not come – sick, vomiting child, highly contagious stomach bug, etc, etc – and was made to feel like a neglectful, uncaring, self-absorbed person.

I will likely be the only staff member not present at today’s concert. This teacher’s centre-front chair will remain conspicuously vacant due to circumstances beyond my control.

I shall attempt to banish the ‘G’ word to the hindmost part of my mind as I nurse my son at home but I have discovered that working parents from around the world (particularly mothers) simply can’t win. Guilt will pervade us no matter how much we attempt to juggle the competing priorities of children and career.