Working at GLI camp this summer provided me with a temporary respite from real-world responsibilities. All my needs were provided for. I didn’t have rent or grocery bills. I didn’t go out on the weekends and, most important, I was able to save money. Living in New York City, on the other hand, means that now I need to have an income just to pay for the astronomical Metrocard fees. For me, babysitting is the perfect solution to my circumstance. It’s a part time job that pays well, while leaving time to devote to the all-important job hunt. Plus, I genuinely like babysitting. Kids are adorable and can be very entertaining (especially when you know they’ll be going back to their parents at the end of the day). 

So what’s my problem?

It’s complicated.

It’s complicated because sometimes I feel secure in my decision to babysit. I am proud of the leg up I have on my peers. All of those years of babysitting siblings, cousins, and teachers' children in high school gave me a skill - a marketable one.

And other times, usually when I’m actually babysitting, I feel ashamed, judged, and defensive about my decision to babysit. Although I babysit for families I know very well, they are all white families.

Well, so what?! (That’s what I said!!!)

Right, because yours truly has worked with many diverse groups of people. I don’t harbor many prejudices about people, and the biases I can admit to having, I am working toward changing.

Despite this, when I walk down the street pushing a stroller, I do things. Like over-enunciating when I speak to the child. Like being sure to wear sunglasses and my Smith College 2010 graduate T-shirt. Like being more affectionate with the child so as to appear more a friend of the family than a hired nanny. For all the credit I give myself for being a forward thinker, I don’t trust that my fellow man can possess the same quality. I should be progressive enough to know that other people’s perceptions of me shouldn’t matter when I am being paid for something I enjoy – and rock at. Yet, as a Black woman, I realize that there is a stigma attached to my pushing a white child around in a stroller.

I told my best friend about babysitting, and very quickly found myself in a conversation defending my decision to do it. It hadn’t started as a debate, but I felt challenged by her proclamation that she "could never do that." I found myself emphasizing why I’m not the typical sitter. I needed her to understand, more than anything, that I am not like many other women who nanny. They, unlike me, have no education and no other options.

My best friend and I agreed to disagree. I’m used to that sort of resolution when discussing my work as a babysitter, but I always resent the feeling that I have to defend myself. Who is really making me feel defensive? Is it them? Or is it me?

I recognize that I harbor a certain amount of insecurity about babysitting. Am I not as enlightened as I would like to believe? I’m not sure. I am sure that I am spending one night this week playing with a four-year I adore. So for now, I guess it’s enough that I am asking questions of myself even if I don’t have the complete answers. Whatever the answer may be, I know that it is complicated. I’m aware of the possible judgments made about me based on what I choose to do but, for now, I won’t let it affect my earning potential.