A mother of four, Poonam’s youngest daughter is in the 4th grade. This cheeky, polite child is doted upon by her soft-spoken mother. The first time I met her she was dressed in all the pomp and show that her mother has abandoned. The child’s dress was gold and red, layered with ruffled mesh and shining fabric flowers. It is only later that I am reminded of my first interview with Poonam; her youngest child is a product of marital rape.
As an economically immobile woman, Poonam is subjected to inescapable harsh judgment from her neighbors as well as the rest of society. As her earning has increased from the > $1.00 an hour wage she received for subcontracted seamstress work, she is able to dress and feed herself and the two children she still in her care after the marital split. Yet her neighbors, quick to judge any woman unattached to a man, shame her for the separation. She does not wear make-up for fear they will call her a whore. She dresses simply to buffer unwanted attention. The quiet details and modest embroideries upon her clothing are rare for a woman who makes her living in this field. Due to the dissolution of her marriage family from the divorce, and the segmentation of her parental family due to her father’s death and brother’s incompetence, Poonam does not have the safety net most women not only depend on, but are embedded in.
Poonam has held other positions. Once she worked in a factory for export products. Though the money was better than she makes now, the sexual solicitations from other male employees and corrupt bosses forced her to quit. Compromised by her physically and psychologically abusive husband, sexually harassed in the workplace and on the street Poonam states one thing clearly; men are not to be trusted. Young or old, she believes that all men are predators, and cannot believe they ever have good intentions. Her son, it seems, may be the one exception. He cares for his sister while Punam is away from the home, and works to supplement the family’s income. When enrolled in school as a child the boy showed an ingenious aptitude for his studies. The director of the school offered to take the boy and raise him, education paid and a chance to escape poverty. Now her son works as a security guard; Poonam regrets not giving him a better chance at life. In her mid-thirties, she takes care to help her young daughter to obtain an education that her brother never had.
It is now, as a teacher for the Sant Nirankari Mission’s Tailoring and Embroidery Center in Delhi that Poonam receives regular wages in addition to the stitching she does inside her home. It is only after working with the Mission that she was able to start a tiny boutique. A hired hand takes orders for designs throughout the day as she teaches; Poonam completes many of the projects at night. As a teacher at a school that charges > $1.00 USD per month, Poonam meets many young women with troubled lives. There is no age limit at the school. Widows, divorcees, and women from the lower castes are accepted without hesitancy into the one year program. Yet, for these young women the accepting arms of a caring teacher may not be enough to keep them enrolled. Domestic duties and the objection of families to the daughter’s exit of the private sphere contribute largely to the drop-out of many young girls, girls who lack any other type of livelihood.
With a million dollars Poonam would open more centers for disadvantaged women. She is my first interview.
