Stop Applauding Women for Being Strong: Start Paying Them for It

Strength is not something my mother sought recognition for. It was simply who she was, what she had to be, to keep our family afloat. But here’s the harsh reality: being strong doesn’t pay the bills, and applause doesn’t put food on the table. Society has long celebrated women’s resilience while quietly ignoring the support they truly need—fair pay, recognition, and respect.

I remember my mother as a woman of extraordinary strength and resilience. She was a teacher at a local school, earning a meager salary of just 300 rupees a month. Though the amount was paltry, her commitment to the job was anything but. She believed deeply in the power of education, not only for her own children but for the countless others she taught. However, her dedication was often met with more burdens than rewards, as her work environment demanded far more than it gave in return.

At school, my mother was the go-to person for every additional task. "Meera ma’am is so talented. She can handle it," they would say, piling responsibilities on her desk without a second thought. Supervising extracurricular activities, managing administrative work, filling in for absent colleagues, and mentoring struggling students—she was expected to do it all. Her reputation for competence became a double-edged sword, as it was used as justification to overburden her without additional compensation or acknowledgment. Her days stretched endlessly, and while her passion for teaching drove her forward, the sheer weight of expectations often left her drained.

The school often praised her in words but failed to reflect that appreciation in tangible ways. Promotions and salary increments were elusive, despite the fact that she was one of the most hardworking and dedicated staff members. "We can always count on Meera ma’am," became an excuse rather than a compliment, as her efforts were taken for granted. Colleagues who did less often faced fewer demands, but my mother’s competence seemed to mark her as someone who could—and therefore should—do more. 

The stress was compounded by the comments and criticisms she faced from others. Relatives questioned her commitment to a job that paid so little: “300 rupees ke liye kaam karne jaati hai? Ghar aur bacche sambhal lo.” (“She goes to work for just 300 rupees? Stay home and take care of the house and kids instead.”) These remarks stung, not just because they dismissed her professional ambitions, but because they ignored the fact that her job was a lifeline for our family. It was not a hobby, or a choice made lightly; it was a necessity. Yet, even within the walls of the school, her efforts were undervalued, and her potential underappreciated. 

Despite these challenges, my mother never stopped striving for more. After her long days at school, she would spend her nights studying for government exams, determined to improve her qualifications and secure a better job. It was a grueling routine, but she refused to give up. She knew that the key to a better life—for her and for us—lay in her ability to break free from the constraints of her current situation. 

When she finally cracked the government exam and landed a better-paying, more stable job, it felt like a hard-earned victory. But I often reflect on the uphill battle she faced to get there. Why did her journey have to be so fraught with obstacles? Why was her strength used as an excuse to overwork her rather than a reason to uplift and support her? The praise she received was empty when it wasn’t accompanied by fairness, recognition, or adequate compensation. 

My mother’s story is a testament to her resilience, but it’s also a critique of the systems that failed her. Strength should not be a justification for exploitation. Talent and dedication deserve to be rewarded, not taken for granted. Her determination allowed her to rise above these challenges, but the question remains: how many others are still trapped, their potential ignored, their hard work undervalued? It’s a reminder that while individuals can overcome great odds, it shouldn’t have to be that hard. Organizations and institutions must do better—not just in recognizing effort, but in compensating it fairly. 

Stop applauding women for their sacrifices and start paying them for their contributions. Recognition without action is hollow. If we truly value the work women do, whether in their homes, offices, or schools, we need to reflect that in tangible ways. Applause doesn’t pay bills—fair wages and opportunities do. 

Here’s how we can begin to change that: 

1. Pay Equity: Organizations must conduct regular pay audits and implement transparent salary structures to close the gender pay gap. Equal pay for equal work is not just a legal mandate; it is a moral imperative. 

2. Value Emotional Labor: Emotional labor is as critical to workplace dynamics as technical skills. Companies should formally recognize and compensate this often-overlooked contribution. 

3. Invest in Support Systems: Policies like paid family leave, affordable childcare, and flexible work arrangements can alleviate the disproportionate burdens placed on women. 

4. Elevate Women to Leadership Roles: Women’s representation in decision-making positions can drive policies and practices that address systemic inequities. Diversity in leadership isn’t just about optics; it’s about fairness and better outcomes. 

5. Legislate and Advocate: Governments play a crucial role in enforcing pay equity, implementing parental leave policies, and recognizing unpaid labor in national economic frameworks. 

It’s time to change the narrative. Stop telling women how inspiring they are for juggling ten responsibilities at once. Start asking why they have to juggle so much in the first place. Stop expecting them to bear the weight of the world and start sharing that weight. And most importantly, stop applauding them for being strong and start paying them for their strength.

My mother taught me the value of hard work, resilience, and education. But she also showed me the flaws in a society that romanticizes women’s struggles instead of alleviating them. Her story is a call to action for all of us. Let’s stop celebrating strength at the cost of fairness. Let’s start building a world where women are not just applauded for their contributions but compensated for them.

Because strength, no matter how admirable, cannot fill an empty stomach or pay off a debt. Only fairness can do that. And fairness begins with recognizing that women like my mother don’t just deserve our applause—they deserve our support, our respect, and most importantly, their due.