MSNBC reports on the new hot trend in domestic workers - the Tibetan nanny:

For the past several years, Tibetan nannies have been all the rage in New York City. On message boards and playgrounds, some parents claimed Tibetan nannies were "very balanced and Zen" and aided in children's "spiritual development," whereas in areas such as Dallas, for example, Latino nannies have been more in demand for their Spanish-speaking abilities.

At the Diki Daycare Center in Astoria, N.Y., demand for Tibetan nannies became so great that the preschool began offering a Tibetan nanny referral service.

"Tibetan women are well known for being caring and loving nannies," reads the promotional literature. "They are recognized for becoming ‘one of the family' and offer the same compassion and quality of care for their charges as they do their own children." Furthermore, it says, "Cleanliness, organization & dedication to education are values of Tibetan culture."

Over the years, we hear about nanny trends that come and go. The always in-fashion Swedish or French au pair, the ubiquitous Caribbean nanny, the Chinese nanny boom in the 2000s, and now Tibet is the new hot spot. It can be tough for those who aren't the flavor of the month, or those coming from a similar class/race background as the employers:

"They talk about how everybody hires the Filipina nannies because you can get them to do anything or that families will look for a British nanny who has the right accent," says Tasha Blaine, a former nanny and Sacramento, Calif.-based author of the recently-published book "Just Like Family: Inside the Lives of Nannies, the Parents They Work For, and the Children They Love."

Blaine discovered this first-hand while working as a nanny - not just from fellow caregivers, but also from prospective employers. In one interview, a mother advised Blaine to warn families in advance of meeting that she was Caucasian, with a degree from a prestigious college. "She said, ‘I'm not sure that people would feel comfortable asking someone like you to make their beds or do the laundry,'" she says.

Ahhh. And this race/class dynamic resurfaces again when discussing the small matter of how to compensate some who is assisting in raising your children:

In fact, Tibetan nannies have become so popular that they may have become victims of their own success as they've been able to request and get escalating salaries - much to the annoyance of some employers.

"Our nanny has priced herself out of our range and I will let her go because she guilted us into paying through the nose," recently wrote an outraged New Yorker on the message boards of UrbanBaby.com.

Damn it, you darkie ingrate, what's wrong with cheap labor anyway? We brought you to this country!

Okay, at this point, I should explain that I am not exactly impartial in this whole designer nannies debate. From the time I was eleven years old until the time I was about fourteen or fifteen, I worked as a nanny. For a nanny. My employer was a lovely woman from El Salvador. In the 80s, she was forced to flee civil war, leaving behind her home country in pursuit of a better life in America. When she arrived here, she then fled with her two sons from domestic violence at the hands of her husband. When I went to work for her, I always noticed that her medical degree was prominently displayed on the walls of her apartment, in spite of the work she found as a nanny/domestic.

Back then, I didn't know anything about the situation, save for the fact that this nice lady (I'll call her Isabel, here) saw me playing with her children and my younger sister, and offered me the unheard of sum of $100 a week to stay with the children after school and to make them dinner until she came home, around seven or eight in the evening.

I didn't understand, then, what it meant to make money under the table, and why there were weeks when Isabel could not pay me the cash she promised. I did not understand why she would often call me around eight or so and ask me to stay later, or promise me $40 in cash for an overnight stay, when her employers wanted her to stay late to clean up after a dinner party where she remained in the shadows for most of the evening.

I didn't understand the strange dynamic of power when you assist in raising someone else's child because they have asked you to, and the even stranger dynamic that occurred as Isabel spent her days cooing over a white child and I spent my days helping her children traverse the hostile worlds of elementary school and middle school.

Later, when I grew older, I felt a bit of rage at Isabel's employers. Why did they keep her late, so many nights? They knew about her children. Did they just not care that their nanny had a life of her own as well, children she needed to raise? Why did they so blithely blow off payment so many weeks, weeks when Isabel would struggle to put gas in the car and feed her children on the already paltry wages they were able to pay in cash?

It is one of those situations where there aren't many good answers. Isabel, with her conversational English skills and non-transferable degree found a job where she could, and was grateful for the opportunity. She joined with an El Salvadorian church in the area and eventually worked her way into a better job, her own home, and a better car. We've lost contact over the years - I still hope she is doing well.

But my time with her changed the way I look at domestic labor forever.

In this month's Latina, Elizabeth Méndez Berry evaluates a new film called The Maid, a character study of a loyal domestic worker who often sabotages the other maids in the house to retain her spot as number one. Berry interviews Angélica Hernández, a former domestic worker that served families both in Mexico and the United States. She explains:

As a 20-year-old newlywed, she could only find work as a live in maid, so she saw her husband briefly on Sundays. "I used to go to my room and cry," she says. Her work was never done: She'd go to bed at midnight and get up at 6 a.m. to make breakfast and then get the children ready for school. After her husband died 11 years ago, she moved to New York City.

"It's hard for us because there are no rules and no support," says Hernández, who has had several employers refuse to pay her. "There are good employers, but it's like reading the lottery." While live-in domestic work in the States is less common than it once was, it's not extinct, according to Priscilla González of Domestic Workers United, a nonprofit in New York City. "Domestic workers are not protected by most labor laws in this country," González says. "Along with farm workers, they're explicitly excluded from civil rights protections and the right to form unions."

Indeed, it is a global problem. A wave of scandals involving the abuse of domestic workers by diplomats have surfaced around the world, but most of the issues of modern nannies revolve less around physical abuse and more toward labor coercion and withholding of wages - which serves as a very convenient method of control.

I am sure there are families who treat their domestic employees equitably and fairly. But I am also sure these would not be the type of people comparing and contrasting different ethnicities as if they were deciding between two of the latest "it" bags instead of hiring an actual person.

Tibetan Nannies: Parents' New Status Symbol? [MSNBC]
Latina [Official Site]
Diplomat's Nanny Lifts Lid On Modern Slavery [The Independent]
Diplomats May Often Fail to Pay Household Staff [Women's E-News]

To Jezebel commenter SuperSally, who said to Ms. Bennett:

I may be in the minority, but I'm with Magpiegirl. If you can't take care of your kids without almost round the clock help from multiple individuals then WTF? Either a)you had too many damn kids and didn't bother to think about it as you were popping them out or you are b)incompetent or c)both. And it has nothing to do with the work.stay-at-home war. Lots of moms work and still manage to take care of their kids without a fleet at their beck and call. If Laura couldn't do it, Laura should've thought of that before having them just to have them.

Seriously, we would not even be debating this if it were cats instead of kids. Crazy cat ladies get no pass, why should crazy baby ladies?

Laura now replies:

Experiencing the pain of childbirth does not make me love my children any more, that's why God invented epidurals. Similarly, changing every diaper, cooking every meal, and doing every pickup and dropoff does not make me love them more either. Choosing not to do so hardly makes me incompetent.

And to commenter PureBlarney, who had this to say:

I cry inside every time I wait for the subway next to a child and his/her nanny. I will be raising my kids, thankyouverymuch, even if I have to pull teeth to keep any semblance of a career in tow.

Ms. Bennett's response is:

Awww. You've got to love an idealist willing to perform dental procedures to be with her kids. But would she rather see a totally stressed-out mom pushed to brink of frustration? A dicey thing while standing on the edge of a subway platform.

Yeah, I believe she just said that raising 6 kids without any help in Manhattan makes her homicidal. You have to admire her honesty, because frankly it would do the same to me. Thing is: I don't have 6 kids. I don't even have one. And I thank the FSM, my gynecologist, my IUD, condoms, birth control pills, the potential infertility of anyone I ever slept with, the morning-after pill, Vaginal Contraceptive Film, spermicidal foam and withdrawal (yeah I was young and stupid) for that little fact.

Anyway, Laura Bennett's mom-snark aside, she does have a bit of a point. She and her husband have the wherewithal to provide for their six kids — one of whom is learning-disabled and one of whom is in college — and to give them nannies, orthodontists, music lessons, sports lessons and speech and language therapy.

The problem is, mostly, that she calls the caretakers "girls" and blames that on her Southern upbringing — Laura, honey, honest, you can learn new tricks — and that she doesn't really recognize that most of the things she identifies as "needs" for her children are really unnecessary desires that's she's able to fill because of her privilege.

I could pretend to be some sort of self-aggrandized über-mom who does it all, but the truth is I couldn't possibly get all my kids to places they need to be, well-fed, relatively clean, with homework completed all by myself without going completely postal.

I mean, many families scrape by to afford school clothes, let alone orthodontists, music lessons, speech therapy (even when it's needed), tutors, after-school sports and the like. Her kids don't need to be on opposite sides of Manhattan in the afternoons, nor do they need a manny to supervise their weekend sledding and movie-going. But they have those things because Ms. Bennett can afford to give them those things. And that she doesn't seem to recognize that distinction — that her (probably expensive) nannies are just "girls" and their music lessons are "needs" — is probably a big part of why the commenters (and Jennifer) got a little up in arms.

So, yeah, people say mean things on the Internet and judge the choices that others make — choices, by the way, that Laura Bennett brought up in the first place. I guess a person has to either learn a little humility or cry in her frozen hot chocolate, whatever the fuck that is.

God Bless My Nannies [The Daily Beast]

Earlier: The Greatest Show On Earth

Says the New York Post's resident crank Andrew Peyser, "the position was once the province of domestic workers from Ireland or St. Lucia, but Manhattan is seeing an unprecedented glut of sophisticated, overeducated and underemployed women desperate for work. Any work. And being a nanny has its advantages."

She goes on to profile a former fashion assistant and an out-of-work banker who have taken on nanny work. Says one, "I never dreamed I'd be here...Some days I actually feel ashamed about what I do. I tell someone, 'I'm a nanny.' They say to me, 'Don't you have a bachelor's degree? Aren't you 25?' " Adds the other, "I read 'The Nanny Diaries' in high school..."I used to think, 'Who would do that?'

Both women found work with the agency Absolute Best Care, which has seen a huge jump in "overqualified" nannies in the past few months. And why not? "Top nannies command anywhere from $650 to a whopping $1,500 a week. That's after taxes. And employers take them around the world."

We are used to hearing Nanny Diaries, Privileged-style narratives of hard-working girls thrown in with spoiled brats. But what about when they're of the same world - or even older versions of the kids who've traditionally been lampooned? More like Uptown Girls! And remember how, in that, Brittany Murphy was able to teach Dakota Fanning all about irresponsibility and silliness and rock music and expensive clothes? Chick lit and flicks aside, though, who in this economy could possibly be ashamed of a good, well-paying job? And let's not forget that in an ideal world, one does, in fact forge a deep and lasting bond with a child which can impact on their lives in a positive way: a far more immediate gratification than many jobs afford. All those of us who've worked in child-care — and that's a lot of us — know it to be one of the hardest and most rewarding jobs out there. One problem though: this may casue serious confusion amongst the readers of "I Saw Your Nanny."

A Wealth Of Nannies [New York Post]

New York Post:

LOCKED down in a celluloid prison cell marked "The Nanny Diaries" for 105 punishingly awful minutes, I was seconds away from crying "Attica" and leading a tactical assault on the projectionist's booth when the words "The End" appeared on screen. I rocketed out of my seat as though wearing a jet pack.

Washington Post:

In "The Nanny Diaries," the sublime Linney takes the most reprehensible of icons, the snooty, privileged, controlling Upper East Side rhymes-with-rich, and delivers a masterpiece of Cruella De Vil-level toxin as the Park Avenue hostess with the leastest, Mrs. X. She becomes the woman you love to hate. But — this is the greatness of Linney — she also gives you a glimpse of the forces that crushed her into such monstrous certitude. It's funny, it's sad, it's real. Too bad, alas, the rest of the movie isn't.

Because "The Nanny Diaries" is essentially a two-character story whose supporting players are wooden props, it would help if the actors playing the two were evenly matched. But Ms. Johansson's Annie, who narrates the movie in a glum, plodding voice, is a leaden screen presence, devoid of charm and humor. With her heavy-lidded eyes and plump lips, Ms. Johansson may smolder invitingly in certain roles, but "The Nanny Diaries" is the latest in a string of films that suggest that this somnolent actress confuses sullen attitudinizing with acting.

One has to wonder what kind of movie about a nanny focuses entirely on a woman like Annie. The movie explains that as a young, single, white, American college graduate, she's extremely eligible. "The Chanel bag of nannies," Annie puts it. And Hispanic, Caribbean, Indian, and Irish women throw in their two cents, but the filmmakers seem uncomfortable with the surrounding racial, social, and class politics. Admittedly, the brief shot of a nanny and her charge at a costume party dressed as Condoleezza Rice and little George W. Bush is quite a statement....The movie's banal fantasies badly chafe any anthropological consideration of what a girl should do with her career. This isn't life. It's Lifetime.

Curiously, the most compelling (if only half-formed) idea here has less to do with class than with parenting—how parents can, out of fear or selfishness or both, abdicate the responsibility of child-rearing to self-appointed experts and Ivy League grade schools, and how when a marriage goes south, children can become assets akin to investment accounts or property deeds. That's a rich subject for a film, but instead The Nanny Diaries gives us a half-cocked martyr movie about a plucky prole sticking it to the corrupt bourgeoisie: Joan of (Central) Park.

More boring still is Nanny's love interest, the Harvard Hottie (Chris Evans), a blandly handsome stick figure who serves no purpose other than to give our heroine a shot at the life she's come to know and love-hate. And lest we think Nanny a hypocrite in the making, we're informed that H.H.'s life hasn't been quite as charmed as his address and educational background would suggest. Sure, he was raised by nannies, but it's because his mother died. (Otherwise, surely. . . )

Satire should be knife-sharp and whip-smart, and The Nanny Diaries never is....Johansson, displaying flustered mannerisms that smack of one too many Woody Allen projects, goes about all this like the hopeful protagonist of a sitcom pilot. That is, attractive, amorphous, bland.

Frankly, there's something painful about watching Scarlett Johansson, who looks as if she never had an indecisive moment in her life, struggle to seem ineffectual. As Annie, a recent college graduate who falls into nannying, she plays a young woman who doesn't know who she is or what she wants. To make that seem even possible, Johansson tries to drain her eyes of all traces of intelligence, ego and self-assertion and even goes around with her mouth open half the time. The result is that the actress robs herself of about 90 percent of her appeal onscreen - and yet she still isn't convincing.