After my son was born, I began to immediately take note of and question the existence of changing tables. They are either not present at all in men’s rooms, or if they are present, they are located in awkward places where changing a baby is particularly inconvenient. The other day I noticed a changing table located where I would either be in front of a stall door or a hand drier.
I don’t actually need a changing table and I am sure that most parents don’t either. At this point, I can actually change my son while he’s drinking a bottle of breast-milk and sitting in my lap. So, what is the use or reason for changing tables then? I believe that they are a patriarchal device that were originally intended to insist women keep the changing of babies out of sight. These are devices that suggest that not only should women not change babies in public, but also that it is women who should be doing the changing.
Now, as our society is progressing and men get annoyed while taking care of their babies by a lack of changing tables, these tables are installed. However, this still seems counterintuitive. The only place I will not brazenly change my son out in the open away from a bathroom is in stores that cater to babies. Those stores for babies have rooms that are more like baby changing lounges. Those rooms usually have a comfy couch, an actual changing table, baby wipes, and diapers. Those rooms are magical places where parents feel rewarded rather than shamed for having a child.
Bathrooms are dirty nasty places. I would sooner spit in my baby’s mouth than change him in a bathroom. Baby’s immune systems are still developing. Babies get sick easier. If I fear my own health is at risk in a public restroom, then clearly my son doesn’t need to be rolling around on a disease-coated table. However, if a building has a changing table in the women’s bathroom, obviously the men’s room requires one as well. But changing tables are, in my opinion, not only a patriarchal device but a form of baby-shaming.
There are the people that think my son is “totes adorbs” until he starts to cry. Those people then give me dirty looks like I am abusing my son, or like he is a demonic organism. Next are the people that avoid looking at me or him, will walk by me as I am trying to negotiate holding a door open and pulling his stroller into a building, or even just act like I’m holding the door for them. These are the sort of people who came up with changing tables. It’s just not women they don’t like, it’s women with babies and sometimes men with babies. There is a sort of expectation that by having a child I have made very bad decisions with my life. They expect me and those like me to be ashamed. At Rutgers I have yet to see one changing table, which seems to suggest either Rutgers doesn’t think I should have a child or Rutgers feels that people should not be ashamed of having children (I hope this is the real reason).
Because both my girlfriend and I are students, having our son with us on campus is at times unavoidable. Certainly I don’t expect any sort of additional kindness from anyone because I have a child with me. But I also would rather not be treated as though I have small pox or a terminal illness. For some reason, mentioning that I have a child produces both reactions. When my son is agitated and crying, people often begin to walk hurriedly away as though I’m carrying an explosive device. The last time I had to use a bathroom with him on campus, it was empty when I went in, and remained empty. Everyone who walked in immediately walked out. I can only assume they were stricken by fear of my dangerously cute son.
I will also point out there are a few rare people at Rutgers and elsewhere who are actually nice to me. Sometimes people even hold doors for me. I am so shocked by this I thank them as though they just took a bullet for me. That level of gratitude scares me, because it is indicative of how I have begun to think that having a child is indeed something to be ashamed of. Perhaps we should give into the societal pressures. Those dirty looks suggest my girlfriend should drop out of school, stay at home, and abandon her academic goals. Every door that slams in front of our stroller screams out, “changing tables should not only be used by us, but primarily by her.” What I am saying is that baby shaming is not only a suggestion that the human race should no longer reproduce, but that women with children belong at home completely out of sight. Baby shaming is also an insistence that I, as a man, should not care for my son. Baby shaming is a throbbing patriarchal erection hammering changing tables into women’s restrooms, and yet another way I feel society is failing to evolve.
By: Michael Satterfield