By June Ramli
In February last year, my financial safety net disappeared. My “f*** you” money — the savings I thought would give me freedom — was gone. Rent was looming, bills were piling up, and I needed work immediately.
Just a short walk from my house sat a childcare centre I’d passed hundreds of times without a second thought. That day, it looked like a lifeline. I walked in, asked if they were hiring, and within minutes was offered a trainee childcare worker role. No interview, no lengthy forms — just “Can you start?”
The nursery — a small room filled with swaddled newborns and crawling infants — became my world. At first, it was chaos. Babies don’t wait. They cry, feed, nap, and need constant attention. Slowly, I learned their language. A certain cry meant hunger. Another meant tiredness. A fidgety kick meant boredom.
The babies didn’t care who I was or what I had done in life — they just needed care, warmth, and someone to show up every single day. That part of the job I loved.
The parents, however, were another story. I saw expectant mothers touring the centre while still heavily pregnant, securing a place before their child was even born. Some parents apologised with tears in their eyes as they left their newborns for the first time. Others routinely arrived late for pick-up, without so much as a glance at the clock, treating staff as if we were invisible.
It was clear that some saw childcare workers as little more than babysitters — not trained professionals responsible for their children’s safety and development.
And not every worker was in it for the right reasons. I saw international students using the role as a pathway to permanent residency rather than out of a genuine love for children. Some colleagues did the bare minimum. One, I personally reported and had suspended for hitting a child.
Still, the work was punishing even for those who cared. The shifts were long and physically demanding. Some days, I would get home barely able to walk.
Despite the demands, I was good at my job. I could read a baby’s cues, keep the room running smoothly, and handle the chaos. But over time, I realised my long-term future wasn’t in childcare. I was working full-time hours as a trainee, which left me with no time or energy to focus on my own business, particularly my website.
I decided the best solution was to move to part-time. It was an option available to trainees, and I believed it would allow me to contribute to the centre while also working on my business. When I made the request, it was denied. The message was simple: full-time or nothing.
So, I made my choice. I left. Not because I couldn’t handle the work, but because I wanted to focus on building the business I’d been putting on hold for months. It was abrupt, but it was deliberate.
Today, while scrolling through YouTube, I came across an ABC News segment exposing the horrors of some home daycares. It struck a nerve. Much of what was shown mirrored things I’d already witnessed in the industry — relentless workloads, low pay, high turnover, and burnout. Many of my colleagues had openly admitted they never wanted children of their own after working in childcare.
After seven months in the job, I understood why. I had cared for babies, comforted them through tears, and celebrated their milestones. But I also saw the emotional toll, the lack of recognition, and the way the system often failed both carers and children.
If I can offer one piece of advice to mothers-to-be, it’s this: be prepared to make sacrifices. Many Asian mothers I know choose to step away from work for a few years to care for their children themselves. If you are unable or unwilling to do that, then perhaps motherhood isn’t the right choice for you. Children are not accessories — they need their parents, not just hired carers.
That job broke my body, sharpened my perspective, and cemented my decision not to have children of my own. I went in desperate for a paycheque and came out with a deeper understanding of the quiet, relentless labour that goes into raising children — and the uncomfortable truth about how undervalued it all is.
About the Author: June Ramli is a journalist and the publisher of DailyStraits.com. With a background spanning media, business, and education, she brings a candid, first-hand perspective to stories that explore work, life, and the human experience. When she’s not writing, she’s building her own ventures and sharing insights from the frontlines of her career journey.
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