Society By profession, intern: the face and the cross of internships
Motherhood A single mother through assisted reproduction: "The first months were horrible. I thought 'what have I done?'. Now I am delighted"
25-N Victoria and Marisol, the silent face of gender violence that experts warn about: "They encourage you to report, but then you are left alone"
One morning Saray Navarro felt disgusted with smoking. It had been a little over a month since she had broken up with her boyfriend. She became the predictor and tested positive. The boy did not ignore it, but he was not going to be a present father either. As it was, the breakup was firm. Without family nearby, with little professional qualification and sick leave from her hospitality job, she was living in a rented room. "I thought about
having an abortion
, but I wanted a family like the one I never had," she says. Saray (35 years old) crossed paths with the Redmadre foundation and the Provida association and now lives with the newborn under their protection. He shares a flat with another woman and her son, and aspires to achieve personal and economic stability for her daughter. At the moment, they take care of the house and expenses. They have also provided what is necessary for the baby. You know, clothes, creams, stroller, crib... "Everything is very new," she says happily.
Precariousness has many faces, most of them women, like Saray. According to the latest study by the Foessa Foundation, promoted by
Cáritas Española
, 'Evolution of social cohesion and consequences of Covid-19 in Spain', the social exclusion rate reaches
20.8% of households
. When the main breadwinner is a woman, it rises to 25.6%, while if it is a man, the figure is 7.4 points lower (18.2%). And more: the most severe cases of exclusion affect households where the only or main income is provided by a woman almost twice as much.
Commerce and hospitality, feminized sectors
One of the temporary reasons is that this latest crisis has had more impact on feminized sectors, such as commerce and hospitality, but there are also structural reasons: "Women still work in the lowest-paid productive sectors. A first-class officer does not earn the same in automotive than in pattern making and clothing," explains
Raúl Flores
, sociologist and coordinator of the Cáritas Española Studies Team. Is being at risk of social exclusion the same as being poor? "It doesn't just have to do with economic criteria. We use 37 indicators beyond money, such as employment, training, consumption, housing, citizen participation, etc.," Flores clarifies. Exclusion, then, is not only determined by what is in the refrigerator (
hake or macaroni
), but also by the heating, the dentist, studying or meeting for coffee.
Saray (35 years old), single mother
Saray NavarroJAVIER BARBANCHO
Saray and her two sisters spent their childhood boarding at a nuns' school in Jerez (Cádiz). When she turned 18 she had to leave with 300 euros as her only assets. Her mother's drugs took her ahead of her and her father, now sick, spent half his life from prison to prison. The sisters are each in one part of Spain, so Saray is very alone. And she knows it. She suffers from depressive anxiety and attention deficit disorder, but she is confident of being a good mother. She has worked as an administrative assistant, in cleaning and, above all, in hospitality: "
I will be able to stay in this apartment for 18 months
, which could be extended for another 18. When maternity leave ends I will have to make a living and save." She does not know if she will stay in Madrid, "because she is very complicated," or if she will return to Andalusia. "She earns little, but I could get a job in a cafeteria. If I earn 800 euros, she will pay me rent. I prefer not to share a flat with the girl," she reflects. She doesn't want to think too much either: "If I do it, I'll
be crushed
."
The baby, only one month old, is her chance to have a new life. "She's had some colic, but she's a very good girl. I'm not complaining." She also thinks about the pros of her
single-parent
and solitary nucleus: "People complain a lot about visitors when you give birth. I don't think anyone will bother me. And I won't have to prepare food for any husband either. Being a mother "Single is hard, but it also has
advantages
."
More unemployment and unwanted part-time work
Another risk factor for social exclusion has to do with unemployment and job instability. Regarding the first, official data for January say that there are 1,658,887 unemployed women, compared to 1,108,983 men. Instability, for its part, "harms more women than men," as does unwanted part-time work: "It affects them three times more," continues Raúl Flores. The wage gap between both sexes reaches 20%, "so for a woman to earn the same as a man, she would have to work 1.5 hours more a day," the expert says. If migrant, half an hour more:
10 compared to eight
on a common work day.
María (51 years old) receives the Minimum Living Income
María RendónDAVID GONZÁLEZARABA PRESS
María Rendón lives in Sagunto (Valencia) and is 51 years old. She became a widow with three children 14 years ago, but she was not legally married. Her home insurance was also not up to date and from this arise two decisive consequences: she does not collect a widow's pension and she has a mortgage that she calls on her account every month. Her mother was also widowed with six children, so she didn't get to go to school much. He barely knows how to read and write and is an example of that job instability: he worked for a while in the
gardening
and maintenance service of his town hall, he was an intern for a month, he worked for a few hours in a bar... "But the covid arrived and it's over," he resolves.
She lives with her 25-year-old daughter, a single mother, and her two-year-old granddaughter. Now that the girl is going to preschool and he doesn't have to be so attentive to her, she is looking for work. "But they don't call me," she complains. Her income is reduced to the Minimum Living Income that she receives, in her case,
400 euros
, and another 400 from the "help" that her daughter, now unemployed, earns. "The first thing I do every month is pay everything and what's left is left.
The roof comes first
," she says.
But that money goes for what it gives, and it is little. His main concern is his granddaughter. Cáritas lends a helping hand to María and her family of women to ease the situation. "Now they have given me some socks and a sweater for the baby and every month I have 40 euros in checks for food at the supermarket." This is how they manage, although the
uncertainty
does not disappear: "They are going to lower my 'vital' to 300 euros and maybe they will also take away my checks. I have been receiving them for more than two years and there are other people who need them, but for me It's a great help," he concludes.
The incorporation of women into paid work arrived in Spain later than in the average of European Union countries. «They have contributed less and therefore, their
contributory pensions are 25% lower
than those of men. Those who have never worked can only access non-contributory ones, whose beneficiaries are women in 75% of cases," analyzes the Cáritas sociologist. "That's the reality of older women."
Agustina (66 years old), migrant in an irregular situation
Asunción AparicioJORGE ARMESTARARABA PRESS
Agustina Aparicio is not Spanish, but she is older. She is 66 years old, she was born in El Salvador and has just turned two here. Her life has not been easy at all: "I don't have a husband. I raised my two children alone. I worked from five in the morning to nine at night and I got them to graduate from high school. It was all I could do," she confesses. .
She lives in
Badajoz
with her daughter and three granddaughters, ages 10, 15 and 16. "They have been here for four years. They came because
the gangs harassed
the girls, who were already of age to be recruited. Nobody wants that future for their daughters. Besides, there is no work there," she says. Her father came too, but he has been living apart from his family for a long time. "My daughter works as a boarder and I take care of the girls."
Agustina and her women experience the aggravation of being migrants. Her daughter was on the verge of being deported, but she very recently obtained a residence permit. She, on the other hand, continues in an
irregular situation
, protected by the appeal that she has filed against the denial of asylum that she requested: "As long as it is not resolved, I have health care and
I can move freely
," she explains. If the answer is negative, Agustina has another cartridge to burn: with the residence permit in her hand, her daughter can ask her for family reunification.
With her, without income, and three minors in charge, they support themselves with the salary of their daughter's live-in caregiver: "But we don't have enough for the rent and for everything. Thank God, Cáritas helps us." Every month
they receive 100 euros
to spend at the supermarket. "Then we take the tickets," she justifies.
You don't need a calculator to guess that Saray, María and Asunción make a lot of numbers to make ends meet. If they arrive.
Employment
Articles Mar Muñiz