March 8th, 2020 – This International Women’s Day, Aditya Tiwari was awarded ‘World’s Best Mommy’. Tiwari has adopted Avnish, a 22 month-old child with Down Syndrome in 2016.
An Incredible Parent, Disability Activist
There is no doubt of Tiwari’s love for his son. He is the only parent to opt to adopt a special need’s child, for whom he had to fight for months. Today, they travel the country spreading awareness on disabilities, holding workshops and talks for all audiences. Tiwari also took it upon himself to challenge the Centre on the prescribed categories of disabled persons eligible for a disability certificate. There was no separate section for persons with Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities (IDDs). Tiwari gathered mass support through an online petition and ensured this oversight was corrected.
There is no doubt Aditya Tiwari is a fantastic parent… A fantastic father.
And there’s a reason we use a separate word for male parents. So why did the organisation that awarded Tiwari forget ‘fathers’ as a category all-together? It’s important to be cognizant of different common roles of mothers and fathers. This cognizance will tell us why ‘World’s Best Mommy’ was probably not the best choice of words to deliver our respect to a fantastic father…
Mom For A Day
First off, the fact that this comes on Intentional Women’s Day seems a little inappropriate. There is a reason we have LGBTQI Pride, Black History Month, Custodian’s Day, Dalit History Month … we dedicate days to celebrate minority communities — people who have otherwise been forgotten if not outright erased. It follows that we need International Women’s Day because historically, women’s efforts have gone vastly under appreciated (here are a few examples from India’s Independence, Constitution, Law, Medicine, and Literature). On this day, to give this award to someone from outside the relevant minority group seems to defeat the very purpose of the event.
Whose Duty? Whose Extra Mile?
Tiwari was deemed worthy of articles like ‘India’s youngest single dad Aditya Tiwari, on what it takes to raise a child with Down syndrome‘. There have, for as long as civilization has existed, lived thousands of child-brides who’ve given birth to and raised children with disabilities (CWDs). Yet it wasn’t until Tiwari that media houses decided to talk about the difficulties of single-handedly raising CWDs. Why? Why are we particularly intrigued by Tiwari’s struggle?
The answer lies in society’s assumptions of whose job it is to provide healthcare in the home. Feeding, cooking, bathing, toilet training, cleaning, teaching, putting to sleep. You’d be hard-pressed to find data against the fact that women do most of the heavy lifting when it comes to caring for those with additional health needs in the home. The young, old, sick, and dying are in most societies assumed to be the business of their mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters. The gendered assumptions about whose burden is healthcare at home ensures that mother caretakers are seen to be performing their duty while father caretakers are seen to be doing the extraordinary. Moreover, let us not forget that these mothers go not just unnoticed but often unsupported …
We often find that fathers — of children with disabilities or otherwise — are less motivated than mothers to be involved beyond providing financial support. This is of course not to say that fathers are not involved. This is to say that society doesn’t pressurize fathers to be caregivers as it does mothers.
The implication of this is that mothers are seen as the natural default parents. And this award reinforces this assumption. By saying that being an involved parent makes Tiwari a ‘Mommy’, we confirm that care-giving is inherently a mother’s job.
Tiwari’s defiance of gender norms should earn him the title of a fantastic father, not a mother. Imagine giving ‘World’s Best Abhineta’ to Ratna Pathak Shah, or ‘World’s Best Ballerina’ to Amiruddin Shah. Sounds weird, doesn’t it?
Not interchanging gendered terms acknowledges these different expectations and gives due respect to the unique challenges that come with unique expectations.
Tiwari’s story and the media’s handling of it reveals a lot about how society draws the lines for women as caregivers in the home. I hope a feminist reading of this event can bring conversations about gendered care-giving to the fore.