I've tentatively signed up for Familia in the fall. For those not familiar with it, Familia is a Catholic lay apostolate focused on the family. That doesn't help? No, I didn't think so. It's a program that invites women and men to get together in groups by gender and discuss topics based in encyclicals that relate specifically to the family. Given that the groups are gender-based, you might assume that the topics are predetermined based on gender. You would be right. And therein lies much of my hesitation. Part of the description from the Familia web site reads, "The unique and complementary roles of a husband and wife can be the source of joy or confusion as the two individuals work together to become one." What worries me about this is that "the unique and complementary roles of a husband and wife" could be read either broadly or narrowly, and I fear a narrow interpretation. Though they claim to want to "support every aspect of each person's vocation," I fear that what "every aspect of each person's vocation" entails will be narrowly defined. Case in point: when I looked at the materials on the web site, the men's program begins with a discussion of the dignity of work. The women's program is about femininity--and they use the rather reprehensible term, "authentic feminism." I object to the term for several reasons, but let's just start by saying that this is a rhetorical move that is designed to contradict feminism by re-appropriating the use of the term and turning it to Catholic-based purposes. So really, it muddles things by suggesting that the two things--feminism and Catholic conceptions of femininity--are equivalent, or at least complimentary, which they aren't. And it is intended to appeal to women who wish to see themselves as feminist, as a kind of "lure" into the Catholic conception of femininity. I should say "a" Catholic conception of femininity, because there is not a unified Catholic conception of femininity--there is no "official" description of Catholic gender, even within marriage. Equally disturbing to me is this: the men's program talks about what men do; the women's program talks about what women are.
I fear that this program, if not specifically designed for women who do not work, is at least designed for women whose jobs are secondary--to family life, or more specifically, to their husbands' jobs. I think of it in terms of primary and secondary careers. While a couple of the women at the informational meeting who had been participating in Familia for a while had jobs, the implication was that the balance between work and home had needed adjustment, and this program pointed that out. My family is of the utmost importance to me, but I also have, for better or worse, whether I like it or not (and depending on my mood it can go either way), the primary career right now. Or I will when I get a permanent position, so right now I have the task of diligently preparing to have the primary career. This is not to say that I devalue my husband's work, but right now, his position--while enjoyable to him at times, on a level--is not what he wants to be doing long-term. I hope that when I do find a position, he finds a position that is equally agreeable to him. That is the ideal goal. So I seek a balance, and I do not particularly want to be sent messages through the materials and discussions that suggest that I am not doing right by my family by devoting effort to work. It is a delicate balance, and I don't always manage it well, but will hearing about the "true nature" of woman help? Not sure. And it the program frustrates me so that I am thinking and pondering and arguing about it for hours afterward, that surely won't lend itself to professional productivity or domestic tranquility.
Clarification: I've been thinking about the terms "primary" and "secondary" career, and they don't set well with me. I might prefer the term"supporting career" to denote the career that might--if necessary--be abandoned or changed for one reason or another, or by choice of the person who holds that particular job. Right now, as I indicated (but not strongly enough) I don't have a career, I have a potential career. My husband's current career path, which it might be if he wanted to stay in this position or if we weren't planning to move on from here, is "supporting" only in the sense that it allows my potential career path to exist. It has facilitated the completion of my degree and is the steadier of our two sources of income--a real, full-time job, not dependent on the budget cycle or departmental funding from one academic year to the next. But it is also not the career goal we have both been working toward--the one that will carry us into a (hopefully) more permanent location, with greater earning power for the two of us combined and the family overall. Come to think of it, I'm not crazy about the term "career," as it implies living to work rather than working to live, but that's a different topic. . .
Showing posts with label feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feminism. Show all posts
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Teaching The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen, and other things. . .
If you haven't read the original, you can read it here. I assigned an essay on "The Moral Simplification of Disney's 'The Little Mermaid,'" and had them read the original text. I don't think any of them had read it before.
My first surprise was when it was argued that the Disney version was better by virtue of its simplicity because without the immortality of the soul as a subtext, it would be more accessible to those who were atheist or agnostic, and so did not wish for their children to be exposed to difficult questions that would then require explanation. Also, the replay value of a text with such an unhappy ending--one that instructed rather than amusing--was called into question. This rather put a damper on the prospect of discussing Andersen's text on its own terms, but then, with such a popular version as a comparison, I guess the original was at a disadvantage. The essay argued that the happy ending does rather a disservice to the reader, creating expectations that wishes will always be fulfilled, and attributing misfortune to the will of a single malevolent force. We wound up discussing the issue of representation of parental authority, and why parents feel threatened when fictional characters disobey (and get away with it)--not an issue in the original. Another point was that it contains more relevant topics--like not to talk to strangers--than the immortality of the soul. I tried to compare the complexity of the two issues. Even if you're not interested in the immortality of the soul, you can still concede that the question is more complex, no? The issue of why the mermaid could not achieve both a soul and true love was raised--the dichotomy was seen as a false one.
I admit that I felt a bit at a disadvantage because the Andersen text was being charged with not being politically or socially relevant. Maybe that's why it was excluded from the anthology!! But then, I think it's a problem when the expectation is that the world should be fair, and fiction is expected either to create a safehaven where the world looks fair, or becomes more fair (just), or acknowledges its unfairness in a way that places blame or suggests a remedy. I never had a problem with the notion that toils and suffering could be fruitless, even as a child--except that her toils were not fruitless, as she was granted the opportunity to gain for herself an immortal soul. But if that consideration is alien to your worldview, it's rather difficult to entertain that as a concrete gain. So how to discuss texts with a Christian subtext in a secular university context?
I was particularly interested in the nature of love and the representation of marriage. Observe this passage:
In order to have something to discuss, I did ask what a feminist perspective might be, but that was too easy, really. She is dehumanized--being non-human in the first place doesn't really matter, or rather, it does because the female protagonist is alienated from the patriarchal world from the very nature of her being (or non-being)--and depends on finding a husband for her very soul. Her identity depends on him. Now, the Disney version does not really vary from this--rather, it validates that Ariel's existence depends on the prince. We learn that that's O.K. I'm not happy with seeing the Andersen version as negative in this way, and I don't think Disney's rebellion theme redeems their dependence on the handsome prince to justify Ariel's transformation. I presented this poem by Judith Viorst as an alternate "take" on the story; I liked this one in high school, but (point being taken--don't change who you are, yadda yadda), it doesn't exactly satisfy me in its interpretation of the story:
For all the validating of identity for girls, it is an oversimplification--likely by design. So how to avoid that kind of oversimplification in classroom discussion? We discussed (briefly) ecofeminism, which is so over the top that it's really about use of language rather than perceived oppression, and so is fun for me. Briefly, briefly we discussed Matthew Arnold's "The Forsaken Merman." I think that comparison could have been fruitful on the religious front, with the contrast between nature/paganism and humanity/religion, and all of the various associations. But we wasted too much time talking about Disney. :P
My previous post about politics, perspectives, worldviews in the classroom was kind of poking (admittedly smug) fun at myself, though it did culminate in a very real frustration with what I see as the limitations and expectations of my teaching in my discipline. I worry about including texts that I don't like or with which I don't feel familiar enough to teach simply in order to represent a diversity of voices. I worry that when I include multi-ethnic selections or female authors as an afterthought, that I'm being a phony--or that I will come across that way. And that's a lot of baggage to add to the already considerable pressures of teaching.
And what about Catholicism? If to teach is my vocation (or part of my vocation), and I'm supposed to live my Faith, how do those things work together? As far as I can tell, it doesn't mean that I have to be nicey-nicey in the classroom (or on the blog, for that matter). I certainly DO have to engage with these questions, and this is a good format for me to do so. But what about subject matter of research and teaching? Surely I shouldn't shy away from the Christianity, though I can't really pursue the themes in more than superficial terms in my current position. And I have a problem with texts being taught simply for their Christian elements (usually in a simplified form)--like is done with the Chronicles of Narnia, which are typically embraced or rejected by scholars or teachers for their Christian elements. That is a bit simplistic on both sides.
With research, it is easier than teaching, I think. If we are selective in our research, well, that's part of being specialized. And I'm not sure how we can live the Faith through academic publishing, unless it means not publishing that thing I wrote about S & M in the films of a certain Spanish director. Yeah, that topic has been shelved permanently for a few years now.
My first surprise was when it was argued that the Disney version was better by virtue of its simplicity because without the immortality of the soul as a subtext, it would be more accessible to those who were atheist or agnostic, and so did not wish for their children to be exposed to difficult questions that would then require explanation. Also, the replay value of a text with such an unhappy ending--one that instructed rather than amusing--was called into question. This rather put a damper on the prospect of discussing Andersen's text on its own terms, but then, with such a popular version as a comparison, I guess the original was at a disadvantage. The essay argued that the happy ending does rather a disservice to the reader, creating expectations that wishes will always be fulfilled, and attributing misfortune to the will of a single malevolent force. We wound up discussing the issue of representation of parental authority, and why parents feel threatened when fictional characters disobey (and get away with it)--not an issue in the original. Another point was that it contains more relevant topics--like not to talk to strangers--than the immortality of the soul. I tried to compare the complexity of the two issues. Even if you're not interested in the immortality of the soul, you can still concede that the question is more complex, no? The issue of why the mermaid could not achieve both a soul and true love was raised--the dichotomy was seen as a false one.
I admit that I felt a bit at a disadvantage because the Andersen text was being charged with not being politically or socially relevant. Maybe that's why it was excluded from the anthology!! But then, I think it's a problem when the expectation is that the world should be fair, and fiction is expected either to create a safehaven where the world looks fair, or becomes more fair (just), or acknowledges its unfairness in a way that places blame or suggests a remedy. I never had a problem with the notion that toils and suffering could be fruitless, even as a child--except that her toils were not fruitless, as she was granted the opportunity to gain for herself an immortal soul. But if that consideration is alien to your worldview, it's rather difficult to entertain that as a concrete gain. So how to discuss texts with a Christian subtext in a secular university context?
I was particularly interested in the nature of love and the representation of marriage. Observe this passage:
“So I shall die,” said the little mermaid, “and as the foam of the sea I shall be driven about never again to hear the music of the waves, or to see the pretty flowers nor the red sun. Is there anything I can do to win an immortal soul?”
“No,” said the old woman, “unless a man were to love you so much that you were more to him than his father or mother; and if all his thoughts and all his love were fixed upon you, and the priest placed his right hand in yours, and he promised to be true to you here and hereafter, then his soul would glide into your body and you would obtain a share in the future happiness of mankind. He would give a soul to you and retain his own as well; but this can never happen. Your fish’s tail, which amongst us is considered so beautiful, is thought on earth to be quite ugly; they do not know any better, and they think it necessary to have two stout props, which they call legs, in order to be handsome.”
In order to have something to discuss, I did ask what a feminist perspective might be, but that was too easy, really. She is dehumanized--being non-human in the first place doesn't really matter, or rather, it does because the female protagonist is alienated from the patriarchal world from the very nature of her being (or non-being)--and depends on finding a husband for her very soul. Her identity depends on him. Now, the Disney version does not really vary from this--rather, it validates that Ariel's existence depends on the prince. We learn that that's O.K. I'm not happy with seeing the Andersen version as negative in this way, and I don't think Disney's rebellion theme redeems their dependence on the handsome prince to justify Ariel's transformation. I presented this poem by Judith Viorst as an alternate "take" on the story; I liked this one in high school, but (point being taken--don't change who you are, yadda yadda), it doesn't exactly satisfy me in its interpretation of the story:
A Mermaid's Tail (Tale)
I left the castle of my mer-king father,
Where seaweed gardens sway in pearly sand.
I left behind sweet sisters and kind waters
To seek a prince's love upon the land.
My tongue was payment for the witch's potion,
And never would I sing sea songs again;
My tail became two human legs to dance on,
But I would always dance with shards of pain.
I risked more than my life to make him love me.
The prince preferred another for his bride.
I always hate the ending to this story:
They lived together happily; I cried.
But I have some advice for modern mermaids
Who wish to save great sorrow and travail:
Don't give up who you are for love of princes.
He might have liked me better with my tail.
I left the castle of my mer-king father,
Where seaweed gardens sway in pearly sand.
I left behind sweet sisters and kind waters
To seek a prince's love upon the land.
My tongue was payment for the witch's potion,
And never would I sing sea songs again;
My tail became two human legs to dance on,
But I would always dance with shards of pain.
I risked more than my life to make him love me.
The prince preferred another for his bride.
I always hate the ending to this story:
They lived together happily; I cried.
But I have some advice for modern mermaids
Who wish to save great sorrow and travail:
Don't give up who you are for love of princes.
He might have liked me better with my tail.
For all the validating of identity for girls, it is an oversimplification--likely by design. So how to avoid that kind of oversimplification in classroom discussion? We discussed (briefly) ecofeminism, which is so over the top that it's really about use of language rather than perceived oppression, and so is fun for me. Briefly, briefly we discussed Matthew Arnold's "The Forsaken Merman." I think that comparison could have been fruitful on the religious front, with the contrast between nature/paganism and humanity/religion, and all of the various associations. But we wasted too much time talking about Disney. :P
My previous post about politics, perspectives, worldviews in the classroom was kind of poking (admittedly smug) fun at myself, though it did culminate in a very real frustration with what I see as the limitations and expectations of my teaching in my discipline. I worry about including texts that I don't like or with which I don't feel familiar enough to teach simply in order to represent a diversity of voices. I worry that when I include multi-ethnic selections or female authors as an afterthought, that I'm being a phony--or that I will come across that way. And that's a lot of baggage to add to the already considerable pressures of teaching.
And what about Catholicism? If to teach is my vocation (or part of my vocation), and I'm supposed to live my Faith, how do those things work together? As far as I can tell, it doesn't mean that I have to be nicey-nicey in the classroom (or on the blog, for that matter). I certainly DO have to engage with these questions, and this is a good format for me to do so. But what about subject matter of research and teaching? Surely I shouldn't shy away from the Christianity, though I can't really pursue the themes in more than superficial terms in my current position. And I have a problem with texts being taught simply for their Christian elements (usually in a simplified form)--like is done with the Chronicles of Narnia, which are typically embraced or rejected by scholars or teachers for their Christian elements. That is a bit simplistic on both sides.
With research, it is easier than teaching, I think. If we are selective in our research, well, that's part of being specialized. And I'm not sure how we can live the Faith through academic publishing, unless it means not publishing that thing I wrote about S & M in the films of a certain Spanish director. Yeah, that topic has been shelved permanently for a few years now.
Friday, July 6, 2007
The Best of Both Worlds
After my recent posts and the responses that others have posted, I found, on my wanderings, two posts that seem to address what I will call wanting "the best of both worlds." Because I believe that that's what I'm striving to achieve. I do naturally assume that most mothers want to spend time--some time, all of their time, more time, whatever--with their children. I feel that this can be accomplished more than it is being now by a pervasive change in attitude. And, well, it doesn't seem that I'm alone here.
In her post on Women, Work and the Church, Sarahndipity refers to a blog post by Radical Catholic Mom that raises the issue of women, work and families within Catholic marriages.
The argument is a familiar one (at least to me)--that in a Catholic marriage, we are called to be "open to life," and while this does not necessarily mean that every Catholic family must be a large family, large families are regarded as evidence of the couple's own generosity, and are certainly a blessing and an asset to the Church (and to society more generally!). Here I am using the post as a jumping off point for what I already know about this subject, which is one I have certainly considered. So depending on the couple's situation and their discernment of family size, taking into account any surprises God has in store for them along the way, the couple has to decide at some point which spouse will be primary caregiver for the children, or whether the children will be in daycare, etc. Or the couple may not have to decide, since they may already know that one or another parent prefers to stay home full time. Or they may not decide, since the default stay-at-home parent, if stay-at-home-parenting is deemed necessary, appropriate, or preferable is generally (though not always) the mother. On the other hand, potential career paths or the spouses' earning potential might dictate which parent (if either) stays home.
The point made by Radical Catholic Mom seems to be that if Church teaching is strictly followed, women will continue having babies every couple of years and stay at home, even if they desire to work, thus becoming entirely financially dependent on their husbands. There is some room for disagreement with this representation of Church teaching--at least I hope so, for my sake!!--as Church teaching does allow for the couple's discernment of family size based on any number of serious considerations (this is very briefly mentioned in the post; perhaps she treats it in more detail elsewhere). The nature of "reasons" and what constitutes "serious" are often disputed, and I think the phrasing is left intentionally vague, likely to give Catholic bloggers something to debate on a regular basis. She goes out on a limb by stating that "the Church allows men to have it all," a point Sarahndipity and others dispute.
Sarahndipity extends the argument ways that I find interesting given my own recent posts and the fact that unlike Radical Catholic Mom, she addresses means of correcting the problem and resists the temptation to lay all blame at the feet of the Catholic Church:
. . . .
However, for me at least, working part-time or from home actually sounds much more appealing then a traditional full-time job. Even if I wasn’t a mom, this would still be more appealing! And it’s almost always women who go this route. So from that point of view, women actually have it somewhat “better.” The problem is that fulfilling part-time work is hard to come by, and home business are hard to start. If it were easier, I would say women would have the better deal. But as with all things in life, it’s a trade-off.
. . . .
I think much of the problem lies with the society, which does not value children and forces women to conform to career paths that are easier for men. I think what we need is more family-friendly career options, like part-time work, flex time, work-from-home options, home businesses, etc. (And it’s not just women who deserve family-friendly work – men should not have to work 80-hour weeks and never see their families just to put food on the table. The workplace needs to be more humane for everyone.)
. . . .
Sounds familiar! So when I say that I want to work in a job that I feel allows for time with my family, and that I don't want to leave my children in the care of others, and that this should be O.K., I am echoing the sentiments of others. The interesting thing with my situation is that I don't really have the choice to stay at home full-time, even if I wanted to (which, right now, I don't really want to do, because as much as I complain, I do find what I do fulfilling!) since right now, in spite of my husband's excellent and diverse qualifications and multiple degrees, my career path is more clear-cut. I am our hope right now for a larger income and a move out of this town/state (whichever). I've gotta tell you, if this is what men who are the sole or primary providers face, it's a lot of responsibility and quite a burden! At one point we thought the job market thing would be more mutual, and that whoever got the job with the potential for a spousal hire (and moving expenses! don't forget moving expenses!) would determine & direct our move, but that's not the way things actually worked out in our case. But what she suggests is what I would like--the flexibility to parent my children for the better part of the day/week without having to give up the career path I have chosen (even if that were a real option). Incidently, I feel like, in this case, that "career path" thing is a "serious reason" to postpone pregnancy in our case (even by Church standards), since 1) circumstances have, indeed, permitted me to get this far, 2) mine is the career that has the greatest potential for advancement at this point, and 3) do student loans count? Anyway, I certainly believe that the "best of both worlds" should--and could--be an option.
Anastasia, who has also spilled a lot of virtual ink on this topic, and who opened this can of worms (at least for me), has some thoughts on Women who want too much, which to me, sounds like women who also want "the best of both worlds"--this time, for purely secular reasons (or not necessarily, but not explicitly for religious reasons either).
Incidently, my conversion to Catholicism has nothing at all to do with my preference for not putting my children in daycare--those ideas were well-formed long before I seriously considered converting!
Anastasia addresses "the accusation that mothers just want the whole world to revolve around them and all of society to cater to their every whim" and "the accusation . . . that mothers, by demanding better treatment, can go too far and wander into the mistreatment of others." She "read(s) it as a power play. The one demanding a voice must either pull herself up short or be pulled up short by others in the name of balance." She concludes with two nice paragraphs that need to be quoted in full:
. . . .
A society that would allow me freedom and equality, as a woman with children, is a better society for everyone. A society that respects and supports mothers should be a society that respects and supports human beings as individuals embedded in a web of familial relationships. The goal of feminism, as I see it, is to humanize the culture, not to marginalize the masculine. The focus is on the marginalized (i.e. women and children) but the goal is a reimagined society in which the human being is valued as such and the rights and needs of individuals as human beings are respected.
My point being, I think the idea that mothers just want the world to cater to them is a rhetorical ploy, intended to put women who make strong arguments for change in their place. It has the same function in discussions of race relations. It keeps the mistreated at the margins, subject to the will of the mainstream.
. . . .
I like the idea of a movement to "humanize the culture," with a goal of "a reimagined society in which the human being is valued as such and the rights and needs of individuals as human beings are respected." I'm not entirely sure that I see that as a goal of feminism per se (it wasn't a goal of humanism, either, and that tag is already claimed), but those feminists who see that as their goal have my blessing. (Which does not mean that I would consider calling myself a feminist--even of their ranks! For me, that would leave me open to the assumption that I believed in things and supported things in which I do not believe, and which I do not support.) If pressed, I probably could think of a movement that promotes that goal, even if it hasn't always worked out that way (there's no accounting for humanity, after all).
Departing from the world of blogs for a moment, one of the web sites to which I was directed by AcadeMama also seems to support the rights of mothers to pursue--and perhaps achieve--the best of both worlds. This is the web site for M.O.T.H.E.R.S.: Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights. It is rare when a search of a site that is considered feminist doesn't turn up any references to abortion (like this one: The Motherhood Project); I am sorry to say that Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights doesn't have a search feature, but there was nothing overt. One of the sites they link to is a project of NOW Legal Defense and Education Fund, so do with that what you will. Not knowing enough about it, I don't endorse this site in any way, but I did find it interesting that they are, essentially, working for the recognition of the worth of mothers (and other primary caregivers) in economic terms. I would love to dispute the claim that "(m)ost mothers are 'dependents' in marriage, not economic equals. They have no unequivocal right to half the family assets, and are not considered joint recipients of the family's income during or after marriage." Familial experience has shown me that this is easily true, though I would say that any marriage that actually operates according to this principle is an abusive marriage on some level.
We of course hope that when men are the primary--or sole--economic providers, that their priorities lie with their families. Unfortunately, the "my money"/"her money" dynamic does exist, though it shouldn't exist, even when both spouses work. This dynamic existed in my mother's marriage with her second husband, who gave her $50 a week for groceries for 6 kids (her "spending money"), while he also had $50 "spending money" for bowling, fast food, and beer, with exclusive use of the checkbook when he felt like punishing her. So when Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights quotes the statistic that "(m)others' lack of financial equality in marriage deprives children; fathers are statistically less likely to spend their money on childrens' health and education" (sic), it certainly rings true. I know divorce is a separate situation, but let's just say that the children's health care that he was ordered to pay was arranged in such a way that my mother could not access the benefits. We hope that the marriage won't actually end this way or operate this way, but in reality, it happens to too many women--even those in Sacramental marriages.
So far, I have dwelt on the worst of all possible worlds. But I feel that the arguments of a woman who raised 6 children, enduring varying levels of mostly verbal, economic, and emotional abuse, who was finally able to break free of the immediate control, but feels entitled to economic compensation for the work she did as a mother and for the emotional abuse that literally prevented her from working outside of the home and then made her feel like a failure when she had to quit her job(s) to care for her children, who suffered from manipulation, anger & neglect while she was gone, would be regarded as "wanting too much" (using Anastasia's phrase out of context). Though she has worked enough hours in her lifetime to retire (once her 13-year-old is independent), she is nevertheless expected to get a minimum wage or entry-level job or have one imputed to her by the courts.
Sarahndipity notes, separately, that "[w]e also need to realize that for women, the male pattern of graduate, get a job, work for 30 years straight, and retire doesn’t work as well. It would make more sense for women to have their children while they’re young and reenter the workforce later (or enter for the first time.) Unfortunately, there is a lot of ageism that prevents older women from getting entry-level jobs." Yeah, there sure is.
So Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights says that women who have raised children deserve to be economically independent, or at least, to have economic independence equal to those who have earned Social Security benefits. I'm not sure how this would be accomplished, or if there is any way to accomplish this in an equitable, just manner, but it is certainly an interesting idea. The problem is that trying to accomplish this through legislative means does absolutely nothing to help the women who are suffering from this very thing right now. And really, that's a problem. The site asks, in a rhetorical response to an anticipated question, "Why is it we always seem to find the money we need for so many things, but when women ask for themselves or their children, the money is never there?" Why, indeed? Why is there money to accomplish political lobbying, etc., but not to establish a temporary or permanent independent solution? After all, Social Security isn't much of a solution either--it's more of a problem. So why should mothers want to go on board for that one? And on the other hand, it is better than the alternative: nothing. But it is not giving mothers what they truly deserve: the best of both possible worlds--the experience, responsibility, rewards of having mothered and the social and financial independence of having worked a demanding, sometimes heartbreaking, real and socially valuable job.
In her post on Women, Work and the Church, Sarahndipity refers to a blog post by Radical Catholic Mom that raises the issue of women, work and families within Catholic marriages.
The argument is a familiar one (at least to me)--that in a Catholic marriage, we are called to be "open to life," and while this does not necessarily mean that every Catholic family must be a large family, large families are regarded as evidence of the couple's own generosity, and are certainly a blessing and an asset to the Church (and to society more generally!). Here I am using the post as a jumping off point for what I already know about this subject, which is one I have certainly considered. So depending on the couple's situation and their discernment of family size, taking into account any surprises God has in store for them along the way, the couple has to decide at some point which spouse will be primary caregiver for the children, or whether the children will be in daycare, etc. Or the couple may not have to decide, since they may already know that one or another parent prefers to stay home full time. Or they may not decide, since the default stay-at-home parent, if stay-at-home-parenting is deemed necessary, appropriate, or preferable is generally (though not always) the mother. On the other hand, potential career paths or the spouses' earning potential might dictate which parent (if either) stays home.
The point made by Radical Catholic Mom seems to be that if Church teaching is strictly followed, women will continue having babies every couple of years and stay at home, even if they desire to work, thus becoming entirely financially dependent on their husbands. There is some room for disagreement with this representation of Church teaching--at least I hope so, for my sake!!--as Church teaching does allow for the couple's discernment of family size based on any number of serious considerations (this is very briefly mentioned in the post; perhaps she treats it in more detail elsewhere). The nature of "reasons" and what constitutes "serious" are often disputed, and I think the phrasing is left intentionally vague, likely to give Catholic bloggers something to debate on a regular basis. She goes out on a limb by stating that "the Church allows men to have it all," a point Sarahndipity and others dispute.
Sarahndipity extends the argument ways that I find interesting given my own recent posts and the fact that unlike Radical Catholic Mom, she addresses means of correcting the problem and resists the temptation to lay all blame at the feet of the Catholic Church:
. . . .
However, for me at least, working part-time or from home actually sounds much more appealing then a traditional full-time job. Even if I wasn’t a mom, this would still be more appealing! And it’s almost always women who go this route. So from that point of view, women actually have it somewhat “better.” The problem is that fulfilling part-time work is hard to come by, and home business are hard to start. If it were easier, I would say women would have the better deal. But as with all things in life, it’s a trade-off.
. . . .
I think much of the problem lies with the society, which does not value children and forces women to conform to career paths that are easier for men. I think what we need is more family-friendly career options, like part-time work, flex time, work-from-home options, home businesses, etc. (And it’s not just women who deserve family-friendly work – men should not have to work 80-hour weeks and never see their families just to put food on the table. The workplace needs to be more humane for everyone.)
. . . .
Sounds familiar! So when I say that I want to work in a job that I feel allows for time with my family, and that I don't want to leave my children in the care of others, and that this should be O.K., I am echoing the sentiments of others. The interesting thing with my situation is that I don't really have the choice to stay at home full-time, even if I wanted to (which, right now, I don't really want to do, because as much as I complain, I do find what I do fulfilling!) since right now, in spite of my husband's excellent and diverse qualifications and multiple degrees, my career path is more clear-cut. I am our hope right now for a larger income and a move out of this town/state (whichever). I've gotta tell you, if this is what men who are the sole or primary providers face, it's a lot of responsibility and quite a burden! At one point we thought the job market thing would be more mutual, and that whoever got the job with the potential for a spousal hire (and moving expenses! don't forget moving expenses!) would determine & direct our move, but that's not the way things actually worked out in our case. But what she suggests is what I would like--the flexibility to parent my children for the better part of the day/week without having to give up the career path I have chosen (even if that were a real option). Incidently, I feel like, in this case, that "career path" thing is a "serious reason" to postpone pregnancy in our case (even by Church standards), since 1) circumstances have, indeed, permitted me to get this far, 2) mine is the career that has the greatest potential for advancement at this point, and 3) do student loans count? Anyway, I certainly believe that the "best of both worlds" should--and could--be an option.
Anastasia, who has also spilled a lot of virtual ink on this topic, and who opened this can of worms (at least for me), has some thoughts on Women who want too much, which to me, sounds like women who also want "the best of both worlds"--this time, for purely secular reasons (or not necessarily, but not explicitly for religious reasons either).
Incidently, my conversion to Catholicism has nothing at all to do with my preference for not putting my children in daycare--those ideas were well-formed long before I seriously considered converting!
Anastasia addresses "the accusation that mothers just want the whole world to revolve around them and all of society to cater to their every whim" and "the accusation . . . that mothers, by demanding better treatment, can go too far and wander into the mistreatment of others." She "read(s) it as a power play. The one demanding a voice must either pull herself up short or be pulled up short by others in the name of balance." She concludes with two nice paragraphs that need to be quoted in full:
. . . .
A society that would allow me freedom and equality, as a woman with children, is a better society for everyone. A society that respects and supports mothers should be a society that respects and supports human beings as individuals embedded in a web of familial relationships. The goal of feminism, as I see it, is to humanize the culture, not to marginalize the masculine. The focus is on the marginalized (i.e. women and children) but the goal is a reimagined society in which the human being is valued as such and the rights and needs of individuals as human beings are respected.
My point being, I think the idea that mothers just want the world to cater to them is a rhetorical ploy, intended to put women who make strong arguments for change in their place. It has the same function in discussions of race relations. It keeps the mistreated at the margins, subject to the will of the mainstream.
. . . .
I like the idea of a movement to "humanize the culture," with a goal of "a reimagined society in which the human being is valued as such and the rights and needs of individuals as human beings are respected." I'm not entirely sure that I see that as a goal of feminism per se (it wasn't a goal of humanism, either, and that tag is already claimed), but those feminists who see that as their goal have my blessing. (Which does not mean that I would consider calling myself a feminist--even of their ranks! For me, that would leave me open to the assumption that I believed in things and supported things in which I do not believe, and which I do not support.) If pressed, I probably could think of a movement that promotes that goal, even if it hasn't always worked out that way (there's no accounting for humanity, after all).
Departing from the world of blogs for a moment, one of the web sites to which I was directed by AcadeMama also seems to support the rights of mothers to pursue--and perhaps achieve--the best of both worlds. This is the web site for M.O.T.H.E.R.S.: Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights. It is rare when a search of a site that is considered feminist doesn't turn up any references to abortion (like this one: The Motherhood Project); I am sorry to say that Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights doesn't have a search feature, but there was nothing overt. One of the sites they link to is a project of NOW Legal Defense and Education Fund, so do with that what you will. Not knowing enough about it, I don't endorse this site in any way, but I did find it interesting that they are, essentially, working for the recognition of the worth of mothers (and other primary caregivers) in economic terms. I would love to dispute the claim that "(m)ost mothers are 'dependents' in marriage, not economic equals. They have no unequivocal right to half the family assets, and are not considered joint recipients of the family's income during or after marriage." Familial experience has shown me that this is easily true, though I would say that any marriage that actually operates according to this principle is an abusive marriage on some level.
We of course hope that when men are the primary--or sole--economic providers, that their priorities lie with their families. Unfortunately, the "my money"/"her money" dynamic does exist, though it shouldn't exist, even when both spouses work. This dynamic existed in my mother's marriage with her second husband, who gave her $50 a week for groceries for 6 kids (her "spending money"), while he also had $50 "spending money" for bowling, fast food, and beer, with exclusive use of the checkbook when he felt like punishing her. So when Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights quotes the statistic that "(m)others' lack of financial equality in marriage deprives children; fathers are statistically less likely to spend their money on childrens' health and education" (sic), it certainly rings true. I know divorce is a separate situation, but let's just say that the children's health care that he was ordered to pay was arranged in such a way that my mother could not access the benefits. We hope that the marriage won't actually end this way or operate this way, but in reality, it happens to too many women--even those in Sacramental marriages.
So far, I have dwelt on the worst of all possible worlds. But I feel that the arguments of a woman who raised 6 children, enduring varying levels of mostly verbal, economic, and emotional abuse, who was finally able to break free of the immediate control, but feels entitled to economic compensation for the work she did as a mother and for the emotional abuse that literally prevented her from working outside of the home and then made her feel like a failure when she had to quit her job(s) to care for her children, who suffered from manipulation, anger & neglect while she was gone, would be regarded as "wanting too much" (using Anastasia's phrase out of context). Though she has worked enough hours in her lifetime to retire (once her 13-year-old is independent), she is nevertheless expected to get a minimum wage or entry-level job or have one imputed to her by the courts.
Sarahndipity notes, separately, that "[w]e also need to realize that for women, the male pattern of graduate, get a job, work for 30 years straight, and retire doesn’t work as well. It would make more sense for women to have their children while they’re young and reenter the workforce later (or enter for the first time.) Unfortunately, there is a lot of ageism that prevents older women from getting entry-level jobs." Yeah, there sure is.
So Mothers Ought to Have Equal Rights says that women who have raised children deserve to be economically independent, or at least, to have economic independence equal to those who have earned Social Security benefits. I'm not sure how this would be accomplished, or if there is any way to accomplish this in an equitable, just manner, but it is certainly an interesting idea. The problem is that trying to accomplish this through legislative means does absolutely nothing to help the women who are suffering from this very thing right now. And really, that's a problem. The site asks, in a rhetorical response to an anticipated question, "Why is it we always seem to find the money we need for so many things, but when women ask for themselves or their children, the money is never there?" Why, indeed? Why is there money to accomplish political lobbying, etc., but not to establish a temporary or permanent independent solution? After all, Social Security isn't much of a solution either--it's more of a problem. So why should mothers want to go on board for that one? And on the other hand, it is better than the alternative: nothing. But it is not giving mothers what they truly deserve: the best of both possible worlds--the experience, responsibility, rewards of having mothered and the social and financial independence of having worked a demanding, sometimes heartbreaking, real and socially valuable job.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
The Condensed Version of What I've Been Trying to Communicate
Feminism
- Few people who talk about feminism and motherhood (specifically, none of the commentors on the post about child-free woman-only beaches in Italy) consider for one minute that a woman might LIKE to have her kids around, that she might actually arrange her time so that she CAN spend it with them (whether she chooses to work outside of the home or not), and that she doesn't consider them an impediment to her enjoyment of life.
- It may be (as Anastasia notes) that people are afforded too much child-free space, leading to the opinion that children are little obscenities ad should be hidden until they reach an acceptable age.
- Within feminism certain choices are affirmed, but others are not--because they’re driven by so-called "outdated ideologies."
- Not having a child at all--or certainly not having more than one--is considered by many to be the "enlightened" choice.
- Individuals who consider themselves "feminists" very rarely speak out against how the most vocal and most politically active "feminists" wish to portray themselves.
- Feminism is an ideology that is loosely based at best.
- Feminism strongly suggests that certain behaviors are appropriate in certain situations, and it does suggest that the woman look out for #1 without considering much else, really.
- I consider "feminism" to be distinct from "women's rights." The former label does not afford much besides political baggage and free-associations.
- Feminism states: Any woman who is pro-woman is feminist (as long as she is pro-woman in a way we like). That way, feminism makes sure that it can claim to be all encompassing (within limits).
- Feminism is about women's rights to have rights. It doesn't matter what the rights are or whether they're right by any standard--objective or otherwise. Rather, it seems to be looking for something prohibited to claim as a right. Maybe feminism itself is in crisis due to this lack of a unified cause.
- Pro-motherhood feminism always includes the caveat that the motherhood shouldn't really interfere with one's convenience--hence the emphasis on children being "planned."
- In order to subscribe to an ideology--to a belief system of any kind--I have to have a good idea, first of all, of the tenets of that belief system, and second of all, I have to be able to accept those tenets.
- While feminism has certainly afforded us choice, I maintain that it has affirmed one choice (many choices, actually) over its (their) alternative(s).
- It is perfectly acceptable for a feminist to condemn--implicitly or explicitly--the choices of a woman who bases her choices on so-deemed "patriarchal institutions," such as Christianity, for example. Her choices and her intelligence are thus judged in one fell swoop.
- In academia, it is possible to make one's schedule family friendly.
- Children might even accompany the parent to office hours, etc.
- Research can be done in the presence of children.
- The presence of children does not preclude intellectual activity.
- Children don't have to be relegated to the care of others. It all depends on our perception of where they belong, with what they interfere.
- The idea that children need to, can and should make room for women's own goals is something that feminism has fought hard to achieve.
- The assumptions that children are a burden, make life difficult, and should be relegated to a space apart from one's career are assumptions that accompany women's presence in the workplace.
- We need to acknowledge that children can co-exist with parental ambition, and that difficult situations involving children can turn into occasions of triumph.
- Individual choices concerning what to do with children might differ from what they are currently if an atmosphere conducive to children were more pervasive.
- Some of our opinions on this subject are influenced by the fact that children are not well-tolerated in certain situations. I'm not sure why this is so offensive a point. To extend--we might have more options if children were better tolerated.
- It would be infinitely simpler to send my children to daycare, so I must have reasons for what I do, and those reasons are not affirmed by any of the theories or ideologies promoted in academia.
- I advocate the idea that the presence of children need not be regarded as a burden. The idea that children ruin one's life and career goals is unfortunate and pervasive. So if I can, in a small way, make people think about the presence or absence of children from our lives and our spaces in a different way than how they are accustomed to thinking, I am satisfied.
- There is a difference between saying, "this is what's best for me" and saying, "I do things this way because I believe that my method is preferable." My statement that it is my belief that my method is preferable does not preclude logic and reasoning, and my beliefs on this subject are indeed based on logic and reasoning (not prejudice or even-- horrors!--faith.), as are most of the things I believe.
- The expression of the belief that all children benefit from being around their parents while they are young, or of any of the other opinions that I have expressed, does not infringe on anyone’s right to do anything. Rather, the expression of that belief is intended to make people consider possible bases and consequences of such a belief, and perhaps see that I am advocating a change in attitude that might make such choices more frequent and available to more people.
- Saying that my choices are different, not influenced by the prevailing mindset, and that it would be nice if the prevailing mindset were different does not say that my choices are best for everyone, or that I want everyone to choose like me. Hell! If I said that, I’d have to put up with everyone else’s little monsters!! ;)
A Logical Extension
Another thought. . . I feel myself to be an advocate of the idea that the presence of children need not be regarded as a burden, just as some people consider themselves advocates of reproductive rights. The idea that children ruin one's life and career goals is unfortunate and pervasive. While I have been told not to blame feminism for this, I was 8 months pregnant with my first child (and 19 years old), sitting in a senior-level undergraduate literary theory class, when my male professor asked me, of all people in the class, a visual representation of motherhood, to read a passage from a Marxist-Feminist essay on that standard piece of feminist reading (and one of the most reprehensible works I think I read as an undergrad) The Awakening, that concluded that motherhood renders one's life meaningless. Hmmmm. . . If I can, in a small way, make people think about the presence or absence of children from our lives and our spaces in a different way than how they are accustomed to thinking, I am satisfied. It's my own pro-life crusade, if you will, because how many abortions start with the thought, "I just can't. . ."?
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Let's Talk About Children. . .
. . . Since we've talked about feminism and motherhood. The original posts that got me thinking about the ways feminists talk about motherhood were about the prohibition of children from certain spaces and the relegation of children to private spaces based on an inferiority of children. One commenter actually said that she considered herself to be raising her children to become human. This is an interesting extension of the argument that says a fetus isn't human--in her construct, she could easily justify the infanticide of ancient Greece and Rome--or of that girl who gave birth in the bathroom during prom. Clearly, she was exaggerating (I hope). Just as clearly, many, many of these women have some psychological problem that makes them resent and lash out against the smallest, least protected, most powerless members of our society who are still acknowledged as such. So we'll suggest that this is a personal problem shared by this substantial group of individuals who also happen to gather together under the label of "feminist." We will further concede that this group is perhaps a bit extreme in their not wanting to be disturbed by children--or by women talking to their children--in the grocery stores. Having made a great number of concessions, I have a few observations to make.
Academia is a very flexible career choice. If one wants to be in a 40+ hour a week desk job, one has the option of administration. However, many academic administrators work considerably less than that. If one wants to split one's time between editorial duties with a journal and teach a class or two, that is an option also. If one has what is considered a "good" teaching load as a tenure-track professor, one likely teaches 2-3 courses a semester. Once tenured, this might decrease further. If one has taught the same class multiple times, one is usually able to teach without much time spent preparing. Then, there is the research requirement, which can be accomplished anywhere. Conferences are like mini-vacations for those who can afford them and are accustomed to them, though for a beginner and one with a modest income, they can afford considerable stress.
Enter children. Or, consider children if they happen to exist already. Clearly, an administrative job would provide challenges for someone who wanted to spend a significant amount of time parenting. If one has a teaching job, however, it is possible for the number of hours actually spent away from the home to resemble a part-time rather than a full-time job. It is even possible, with departmental cooperation, to make one's schedule family friendly by working only 2 or 3 days a week, or by working mornings or evenings only (perhaps alternating with a spouse) and spending the remaining time with one's children. Children might even accompany the parent to office hours, meetings with students, less important departmental meetings, film showings, lectures or other after-hours activities (this would of course depend on the age and behavior of th child(ren) involved). This is challenging, but has its rewards. Research can be done in the presence of children just as easily as housework was traditionally--not that I'm saying that this was/is always easy. Clearly there are good hours and bad hours, and good days and bad days. But you know what? That article or whatever can be written with the kids--at least, if you don't procrastinate like me!!--and if you don't blame the kids for taking up too much of your time, and if you're not afraid to let them entertain themselves, or to stop when they need your attention. It can be done--just as easily as blogging with kids. The presence of children does not preclude intellectual activity. Conferences are rare, but can be turned into family vacations, with the other spouse filling in time gaps while the attendee is in sessions. Or if not, what's a weekend away once a year? Not too traumatic. (But don't--for God's sake DON'T--breastfeed in an MLA session!! I can't remember the name of the audacious academic who pulled that "stunt," but I have it on good authority--good feminist authority--that one simply can not do that!!--The horrors!!)
I have been asked point-blank if my children are in day-care. I have said no. And I have been asked how I get any work done. I have been told about the impossibilities of working on anything with (a) child(ren) around--all by other women. All by my peers. And I have been doing this for 10 years. Well, unless you count all that time when I was living at home with 5 siblings helping my mom go to school while I was an undergraduate. In that case, I've been doing it much longer. I have not asked how they afford 40-hour child care. I don't want to know. I can't, and I really don't want to try. But I am a fairly lone figure pushing my stroller on a regular basis through the halls of the department. My children are well known by all who see them--and this has been my modus operandi since I stepped into the building almost (God help me!) 8 years ago. Others have their children with them sometimes, but only occasionally, whether to show off, or because of a school/daycare holiday, or illness. But I maintain that it doesn't really have to be like this. Children don't have to be relegated to the care of others. It all depends on our perception of where they belong, with what they interfere. Truly--I believe it is a matter of perception. And that's where I think feminism has some part to play. Unless one wants to say that it could have a pro-child part to play but doesn't. But the idea that children, who once were the responsibility of women but need not be, should be relegated to other spaces to make room for women's own goals, needs, desires, whatever, certainly is something that feminism has fought hard to achieve.
Women in academia are supposed to be feminist. No one will dispute that. It's one of those "well, she's intelligent, so she must agree with this. . ." These assumptions run rampant through academia. The assumptions that children are a burden, make life difficult, and should be relegated to a space apart from one's career are assumptions that accompany women's presence in the workplace. While some may disagree, this is rare. I have known professors to keep their children in after-care daily rather than have them at home with the parents (both academics) when the parents' schedules ended earlier than a 5 P.M. day. I have seen children kept in child care situations "just in case" meetings or other activities should come up. On the other hand, I have met two academics--a single father and a mother (possibly separated--I'm not sure) who, in their early days of tenure-track, brought their children with them to class, office hours, after hours situations. These are the professors I admire, as they balanced their career goals and their family goals, standing up for their children's rights to exist, to exist in public, and to be with their parents. What may have been borne of difficult situations turned into triumph for all involved. And we just need to acknowledge that children can co-exist with parental ambition, and that difficult situations involving children can turn into occasions of triumph. But does feminism teach this, really?
Academia is a very flexible career choice. If one wants to be in a 40+ hour a week desk job, one has the option of administration. However, many academic administrators work considerably less than that. If one wants to split one's time between editorial duties with a journal and teach a class or two, that is an option also. If one has what is considered a "good" teaching load as a tenure-track professor, one likely teaches 2-3 courses a semester. Once tenured, this might decrease further. If one has taught the same class multiple times, one is usually able to teach without much time spent preparing. Then, there is the research requirement, which can be accomplished anywhere. Conferences are like mini-vacations for those who can afford them and are accustomed to them, though for a beginner and one with a modest income, they can afford considerable stress.
Enter children. Or, consider children if they happen to exist already. Clearly, an administrative job would provide challenges for someone who wanted to spend a significant amount of time parenting. If one has a teaching job, however, it is possible for the number of hours actually spent away from the home to resemble a part-time rather than a full-time job. It is even possible, with departmental cooperation, to make one's schedule family friendly by working only 2 or 3 days a week, or by working mornings or evenings only (perhaps alternating with a spouse) and spending the remaining time with one's children. Children might even accompany the parent to office hours, meetings with students, less important departmental meetings, film showings, lectures or other after-hours activities (this would of course depend on the age and behavior of th child(ren) involved). This is challenging, but has its rewards. Research can be done in the presence of children just as easily as housework was traditionally--not that I'm saying that this was/is always easy. Clearly there are good hours and bad hours, and good days and bad days. But you know what? That article or whatever can be written with the kids--at least, if you don't procrastinate like me!!--and if you don't blame the kids for taking up too much of your time, and if you're not afraid to let them entertain themselves, or to stop when they need your attention. It can be done--just as easily as blogging with kids. The presence of children does not preclude intellectual activity. Conferences are rare, but can be turned into family vacations, with the other spouse filling in time gaps while the attendee is in sessions. Or if not, what's a weekend away once a year? Not too traumatic. (But don't--for God's sake DON'T--breastfeed in an MLA session!! I can't remember the name of the audacious academic who pulled that "stunt," but I have it on good authority--good feminist authority--that one simply can not do that!!--The horrors!!)
I have been asked point-blank if my children are in day-care. I have said no. And I have been asked how I get any work done. I have been told about the impossibilities of working on anything with (a) child(ren) around--all by other women. All by my peers. And I have been doing this for 10 years. Well, unless you count all that time when I was living at home with 5 siblings helping my mom go to school while I was an undergraduate. In that case, I've been doing it much longer. I have not asked how they afford 40-hour child care. I don't want to know. I can't, and I really don't want to try. But I am a fairly lone figure pushing my stroller on a regular basis through the halls of the department. My children are well known by all who see them--and this has been my modus operandi since I stepped into the building almost (God help me!) 8 years ago. Others have their children with them sometimes, but only occasionally, whether to show off, or because of a school/daycare holiday, or illness. But I maintain that it doesn't really have to be like this. Children don't have to be relegated to the care of others. It all depends on our perception of where they belong, with what they interfere. Truly--I believe it is a matter of perception. And that's where I think feminism has some part to play. Unless one wants to say that it could have a pro-child part to play but doesn't. But the idea that children, who once were the responsibility of women but need not be, should be relegated to other spaces to make room for women's own goals, needs, desires, whatever, certainly is something that feminism has fought hard to achieve.
Women in academia are supposed to be feminist. No one will dispute that. It's one of those "well, she's intelligent, so she must agree with this. . ." These assumptions run rampant through academia. The assumptions that children are a burden, make life difficult, and should be relegated to a space apart from one's career are assumptions that accompany women's presence in the workplace. While some may disagree, this is rare. I have known professors to keep their children in after-care daily rather than have them at home with the parents (both academics) when the parents' schedules ended earlier than a 5 P.M. day. I have seen children kept in child care situations "just in case" meetings or other activities should come up. On the other hand, I have met two academics--a single father and a mother (possibly separated--I'm not sure) who, in their early days of tenure-track, brought their children with them to class, office hours, after hours situations. These are the professors I admire, as they balanced their career goals and their family goals, standing up for their children's rights to exist, to exist in public, and to be with their parents. What may have been borne of difficult situations turned into triumph for all involved. And we just need to acknowledge that children can co-exist with parental ambition, and that difficult situations involving children can turn into occasions of triumph. But does feminism teach this, really?
When Feminists Talk about Motherhood. . .
This is an interesting post from Anastasia, an academic mom whose blog I read (see sidebar) and who has a few things to say about how feminists discuss motherhood when nobody's looking (or nobody important, or nobody who is expected to disagree). What interests me about this is that it represents one of the major reasons that I have never been able to call myself a feminist, even when I was more friendly to feminism than I am today, and why I actively wrote papers in grad school that worked against the anti-mother rhetoric of feminist theory. What further interests me is that Anastasia seems like someone who would consider herself much more of a feminist than I do! Beware the language (which I'm not necessarily going to say is inappropriate), and let me know what you think when you come back! The comments, you will notice, are very anti-child, a backlash against Anastasia's reasoning that children need to be considered and included, and mainly focus on the type of parent who doesn't do much parenting and, let's face it, probably wasn't equipped to have children in the first place. This rather reminds me of Darwin's post about a playground incident in which he was called down for correcting a child who was terrorizing his much younger daughter. If people didn't hate kids in private and "respect their rights and privacy" in public, instead of, you know, saying "Excuse me, but your child is being incredibly rude and needs to be disciplined before s/he hurts someone" and accepting that some children are indeed well-disciplined, maybe this rhetoric of intolerance wouldn't persist in so-called "intellectual" circles. When everyone agreed on how children should behave, only the crotchety "Mr. Wilson" types from Dennis the Menace were expected to hate children. (Granted that some old-style "discipline" is now recognized as abuse, but many go too far in the opposite direction.) In some circles, cities, stores, it has become the norm.
For a related sentiment, a more subtle child-hatred, see Pro Ecclesia and the source, The Cause of Our Joy, on "The Town Without Children," which is, of course, the logical consequence of child-hatred and child-exclusion.
One more thing: It occurs to me after reading a HUGE number of the comments on the original post (don't go there, just don't; I can't be responsible for the consequences, and I don't want them following you back here--I put the link purely out of a sense of obligation), that no one considers for one minute that a woman might LIKE to have her kids around, that she might actually arrange her time so that she CAN spend it with them (whether she chooses to work outside of the home or not), and that she doesn't consider them an impediment to her enjoyment of life. WOW!
For a related sentiment, a more subtle child-hatred, see Pro Ecclesia and the source, The Cause of Our Joy, on "The Town Without Children," which is, of course, the logical consequence of child-hatred and child-exclusion.
One more thing: It occurs to me after reading a HUGE number of the comments on the original post (don't go there, just don't; I can't be responsible for the consequences, and I don't want them following you back here--I put the link purely out of a sense of obligation), that no one considers for one minute that a woman might LIKE to have her kids around, that she might actually arrange her time so that she CAN spend it with them (whether she chooses to work outside of the home or not), and that she doesn't consider them an impediment to her enjoyment of life. WOW!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
The Stupidity of Women
This post is, in a way, a follow-up to my "horrible news" post. It seems that the missing pregnant woman whose young son gave cryptic and disturbing remarks about her disappearance, has been found. Her "boyfriend" has been charged with two counts of murder. One report suggests that a new girlfriend of the suspect--a suspect who had a wife with a child, had a previous girlfriend who also had his child, this now-dead woman with two of his children--wanted the woman out of the way, and assisted in some way with the events that resulted in her death.
When I was in high school, I had a teacher who was very opinionated about social issues. All we had to do was think of a subject in advance and she would talk about it for the entire hour so that we could get away with not reading. (Never trust an honors class!!) We prolonged Huck Finn for an entire 9-weeks using this strategy. During one of these digressions, she remarked that she couldn't understand women who take up with a married man, assuming that he would faithful to her when he wasn't faithful to his wife. What makes her so darned special? Why does any woman think that any given unfaithful man will be faithful to her rather than another woman? Clearly, this is logic that has always remained with me. In this case, in addition, if he would commit violent acts against another former girlfriend, why should this new woman think that he would not, eventually, turn on her?
This is, on a level, an anti-feminist statement in a way, I guess. For once, I'm not really sure where feminist theory would fall in relation to this kind of situation. I mean, even if she had aborted one or both of the children (which seems like one possible feminist answer), this may have been what the father wanted, in which case, would it have been acting like a strong feminist woman to preserve one's autonomy by aborting a child (or children) that she wanted to keep but whom the father wanted to kill? It does seem that the situation of the dead, pregnant girl should be viewed with sympathy by feminists, who would see her as a victim of society that views her worth in terms of men. On the other hand, one might note (not necessarily from a feminist perspective) that in a society in which women's sexuality was viewed more restrictively and regulated more closely, she would not have been living openly with one--perhaps two--children of an married man, and so, in a sense, she would have been protected--by shame--from this horrible situation. Would social ostracism have been worse than what actually happened to her? By being sexually liberated, able to choose her own sexual partners freely without reference to social convention, she is placed in a position that has led to her death and the death of her child. On the other hand, a feminist might note that, though she seems to have been fairly independent, by returning to a man who had betrayed other women, and allowing herself to become pregnant twice (or perhaps becoming pregnant on purpose?), she was acting foolishly herself, sacrificing herself for the sake of a man. I'm not actually sure a feminist would hold that last opinion. I think she would likely be regarded as a victim of patriarchy. But haven't we moved beyond that tired argument yet?If women haven't come far enough yet (baby--Virginia Slims) that "patriarchal society" (instead of a deranged man) has to be blamed for tragedy, then what exactly has feminism accomplished? Okay, enough with the rhetorical questions, already.
A number of things disturb me about the way this case is being reported. First, that while the new baby was initially said to have been fathered by the same man as her first child (by the "suspect," that is), in subsequent reports, the baby was "perhaps" fathered by the same man--"may have been" fathered by the suspect, etc. And this was when he wasn't even a suspect! So while he had a history of impregnating various women, he was somehow entitled to his reputation. Meanwhile, the woman was missing, likely dead, and she was being represented as someone who slept around. So much for sexual liberation there! The implication was pretty clear--he may not have been involved, and she, as an unwed mother, might as well have had a different father for each child. Where were the media feminists? They weren't upholding either her reputation or her right to act as a sexually liberated woman and a strong independent mother.
Another question I had was why the 2-year-old son's references to his mother did not include references to his "father," with whom he presumably had a relationship.
Finally, the girl's family is being portrayed in a respectfully positive light, which is appropriate. But I do wonder what their true feelings were about this situation--here is their daughter, sister, whatever, pregnant for the second time with the child of a man who has a wife and two other children by two different women. Did they feel constrained by the "new" social convention that dictates that a woman choose her own expression of her sexuality when she becomes an adult (or even sooner)? Did they find nothing amiss in this relationship? Or did they express their disapproval?
The appearance of the possible accomplice, the "new girlfriend" leads to the title of the post. How can women be so stupid--for obviously worthless men? For sex? But at the same historical moment when women were told that it’s okay to make these choices, they were deprived of the frameworks that allowed them to choose morally and, in the end, to choose wisely and make choices that preserved their dignity.
When I was in high school, I had a teacher who was very opinionated about social issues. All we had to do was think of a subject in advance and she would talk about it for the entire hour so that we could get away with not reading. (Never trust an honors class!!) We prolonged Huck Finn for an entire 9-weeks using this strategy. During one of these digressions, she remarked that she couldn't understand women who take up with a married man, assuming that he would faithful to her when he wasn't faithful to his wife. What makes her so darned special? Why does any woman think that any given unfaithful man will be faithful to her rather than another woman? Clearly, this is logic that has always remained with me. In this case, in addition, if he would commit violent acts against another former girlfriend, why should this new woman think that he would not, eventually, turn on her?
This is, on a level, an anti-feminist statement in a way, I guess. For once, I'm not really sure where feminist theory would fall in relation to this kind of situation. I mean, even if she had aborted one or both of the children (which seems like one possible feminist answer), this may have been what the father wanted, in which case, would it have been acting like a strong feminist woman to preserve one's autonomy by aborting a child (or children) that she wanted to keep but whom the father wanted to kill? It does seem that the situation of the dead, pregnant girl should be viewed with sympathy by feminists, who would see her as a victim of society that views her worth in terms of men. On the other hand, one might note (not necessarily from a feminist perspective) that in a society in which women's sexuality was viewed more restrictively and regulated more closely, she would not have been living openly with one--perhaps two--children of an married man, and so, in a sense, she would have been protected--by shame--from this horrible situation. Would social ostracism have been worse than what actually happened to her? By being sexually liberated, able to choose her own sexual partners freely without reference to social convention, she is placed in a position that has led to her death and the death of her child. On the other hand, a feminist might note that, though she seems to have been fairly independent, by returning to a man who had betrayed other women, and allowing herself to become pregnant twice (or perhaps becoming pregnant on purpose?), she was acting foolishly herself, sacrificing herself for the sake of a man. I'm not actually sure a feminist would hold that last opinion. I think she would likely be regarded as a victim of patriarchy. But haven't we moved beyond that tired argument yet?If women haven't come far enough yet (baby--Virginia Slims) that "patriarchal society" (instead of a deranged man) has to be blamed for tragedy, then what exactly has feminism accomplished? Okay, enough with the rhetorical questions, already.
A number of things disturb me about the way this case is being reported. First, that while the new baby was initially said to have been fathered by the same man as her first child (by the "suspect," that is), in subsequent reports, the baby was "perhaps" fathered by the same man--"may have been" fathered by the suspect, etc. And this was when he wasn't even a suspect! So while he had a history of impregnating various women, he was somehow entitled to his reputation. Meanwhile, the woman was missing, likely dead, and she was being represented as someone who slept around. So much for sexual liberation there! The implication was pretty clear--he may not have been involved, and she, as an unwed mother, might as well have had a different father for each child. Where were the media feminists? They weren't upholding either her reputation or her right to act as a sexually liberated woman and a strong independent mother.
Another question I had was why the 2-year-old son's references to his mother did not include references to his "father," with whom he presumably had a relationship.
Finally, the girl's family is being portrayed in a respectfully positive light, which is appropriate. But I do wonder what their true feelings were about this situation--here is their daughter, sister, whatever, pregnant for the second time with the child of a man who has a wife and two other children by two different women. Did they feel constrained by the "new" social convention that dictates that a woman choose her own expression of her sexuality when she becomes an adult (or even sooner)? Did they find nothing amiss in this relationship? Or did they express their disapproval?
The appearance of the possible accomplice, the "new girlfriend" leads to the title of the post. How can women be so stupid--for obviously worthless men? For sex? But at the same historical moment when women were told that it’s okay to make these choices, they were deprived of the frameworks that allowed them to choose morally and, in the end, to choose wisely and make choices that preserved their dignity.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Words: Anatomical Euphemisms Considered
As a mother of a little girl, I am more interested in this question that I was in the case of my son. You see, the naming of anatomy is not nearly as sensitive an issue with males as it seems to be with females. I have heard this debate from many different angles--from Irigaray to the sex-positive internet message boards I belonged to in a former life. I am less acquainted with it from the child-rearing book perspective, as I haven't ever really delved into that genre. As the big sister of 5 siblings, I never saw much need for parenting self-help books and the like. I just wing it! But let's face it, there is a wide-ranging debate over what to call female genitalia, and it is not limited to babies and children. My personal feeling is that medical terms in the mouths of children sound ugly and inappropriate--I mean, would you want your son or daughter talking about his or her anus? I doubt it. So then why is "penis" more appropriate? I am reminded of that rather awful film starring the governor of California, Kindergarten Cop, in which the son of a gynecologist informs Arnold that "boys have a penis and girls have a vagina." The humor in this scene was in the gross impropriety of both timing of the declaration and the sound of the terms "from the mouths of babes," as it were.
Since I am really thinking about female anatomy, I will say that I have particular problems with the term "vagina." Not with the term "vaginal," but with the term "vagina." I take issues with the Vagina Monologues, for example, because it uses the term "vagina" to apply not just to what we actually recognize as the vagina, but also the surrounding area, so to speak. Irigaray's "two lips" (terminology that I rather like from a theoretical perspective, though it's not quite a practical term to teach a child) are included, as well as what I might as well, being pregnant, refer to as the "birth canal"--and I just won't go beyond that description. More accurately, the part of the anatomy that a young child would actually see and feel--and thus, of which the child would be aware any real sense, as the uses for these parts are quite specific and limited compared to those of a feminist theorist, for example--is called, in medical terms, the "vulva" rather than the "vagina." So for reasons of accuracy in addition to plain issues of delicacy of language, I will not teach my daughter the term "vagina" until we get to "that" talk (blissfully years and years in the future--for the son, not so distant. . .). I do not particularly prefer "vulva." The word has its instinctive appeal as a word--it has a round, full quality about it that actually makes a fitting signifier for the part signified (not meaning to shock any sensibilities, and not meaning to offend Saussure or Derrida or any of their devotees). But it does not seem any more appealing to say to a child, "Okay, let me wash your vulva now!" No, that's not going to happen.
On the aforementioned sex-happy somewhat feminist (in some sense of the word) discussion board, I remember (from years ago now) a discussion in which certain women felt somehow "cheated" by their mothers' and perhaps grandmothers' reluctance to call certain parts what they were. What they mentioned in particular was the substitution of bodily function words for the parts from which the fluids were excreted. I admit to allowing this with my son. It's not something I cultivated, it just happened naturally. Somehow, though, I think my husband and I felt the need, even in the naming of these parts (or maybe especially?), to distinguish between the genders. I will add that the term that my family used for female genitalia (in the bathtub setting) is not one I could spell. It's a little embarrassing for me to pronounce, even to myself, because I know that it is not an actual word in English. I say "in English" because I suspect that the word was a corruption of some French baby-talk or something, as my grandmother grew up speaking French (in "the country" in Louisiana, as we called it, quite a bit outside of Lafayette). So clearly that word is out.
What we have settled on instead is rather accurate in my view, clearly a euphemism, but kind of endearing also. We call them (and I use the plural, in a subconscious nod to Irigaray) "baby girl parts." I suppose someday they will be "little girl parts," and finally, "girl parts." This suits my son, also, who has not asked about "real" names, as he did for his own "parts" a while back. I feel like this is accurate because they are, indeed, "girl parts" in a couple of different senses--they are "parts of a girl," and they are also "the parts by which a girl is identified as a girl," at least at birth. I know this raises all kinds of feminist red (or essentialist) flags, but it doesn't particularly concern me. When my daughter was born, they told me, "it's a girl," not "she is anatomically female, but her gender has not yet been socially constructed." The same, I think, when the ultrasound tech tells the expectant parents that they have the go-ahead to buy the pink stuff. Most importantly, "let's wash the baby girl parts" works just fine for me!
Since I am really thinking about female anatomy, I will say that I have particular problems with the term "vagina." Not with the term "vaginal," but with the term "vagina." I take issues with the Vagina Monologues, for example, because it uses the term "vagina" to apply not just to what we actually recognize as the vagina, but also the surrounding area, so to speak. Irigaray's "two lips" (terminology that I rather like from a theoretical perspective, though it's not quite a practical term to teach a child) are included, as well as what I might as well, being pregnant, refer to as the "birth canal"--and I just won't go beyond that description. More accurately, the part of the anatomy that a young child would actually see and feel--and thus, of which the child would be aware any real sense, as the uses for these parts are quite specific and limited compared to those of a feminist theorist, for example--is called, in medical terms, the "vulva" rather than the "vagina." So for reasons of accuracy in addition to plain issues of delicacy of language, I will not teach my daughter the term "vagina" until we get to "that" talk (blissfully years and years in the future--for the son, not so distant. . .). I do not particularly prefer "vulva." The word has its instinctive appeal as a word--it has a round, full quality about it that actually makes a fitting signifier for the part signified (not meaning to shock any sensibilities, and not meaning to offend Saussure or Derrida or any of their devotees). But it does not seem any more appealing to say to a child, "Okay, let me wash your vulva now!" No, that's not going to happen.
On the aforementioned sex-happy somewhat feminist (in some sense of the word) discussion board, I remember (from years ago now) a discussion in which certain women felt somehow "cheated" by their mothers' and perhaps grandmothers' reluctance to call certain parts what they were. What they mentioned in particular was the substitution of bodily function words for the parts from which the fluids were excreted. I admit to allowing this with my son. It's not something I cultivated, it just happened naturally. Somehow, though, I think my husband and I felt the need, even in the naming of these parts (or maybe especially?), to distinguish between the genders. I will add that the term that my family used for female genitalia (in the bathtub setting) is not one I could spell. It's a little embarrassing for me to pronounce, even to myself, because I know that it is not an actual word in English. I say "in English" because I suspect that the word was a corruption of some French baby-talk or something, as my grandmother grew up speaking French (in "the country" in Louisiana, as we called it, quite a bit outside of Lafayette). So clearly that word is out.
What we have settled on instead is rather accurate in my view, clearly a euphemism, but kind of endearing also. We call them (and I use the plural, in a subconscious nod to Irigaray) "baby girl parts." I suppose someday they will be "little girl parts," and finally, "girl parts." This suits my son, also, who has not asked about "real" names, as he did for his own "parts" a while back. I feel like this is accurate because they are, indeed, "girl parts" in a couple of different senses--they are "parts of a girl," and they are also "the parts by which a girl is identified as a girl," at least at birth. I know this raises all kinds of feminist red (or essentialist) flags, but it doesn't particularly concern me. When my daughter was born, they told me, "it's a girl," not "she is anatomically female, but her gender has not yet been socially constructed." The same, I think, when the ultrasound tech tells the expectant parents that they have the go-ahead to buy the pink stuff. Most importantly, "let's wash the baby girl parts" works just fine for me!
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Feminism, Family, and Femmes Politiques
I was referred by a friend to an article on "Feminism and Politics." While I usually like to avoid political posts, this one intersects somewhat with my musings on motherhood and work from a while back. Here's an interesting side note--when I read the "I'm a Woman" song that the author reprints with reference to a perfume ad, I was reminded of Miss Piggy. Seriously. There's a Muppet show sketch with Miss Piggy and some has-been brunette (offhand, I forget who!) with whom Piggy was competing for Kermit. Hardly an emblem of the woman's movement, even for the sake of argument!! This is also kind of funny given the reference in the quote to bacon.
What questions does this article raise for me? I'm not sure. Perhaps what it says about what we want to believe women are, or do, or whatever. The point seems to be that, while ostensibly, all choices for women are equally valid, in the political arena, this is not the case. This is no new news. Certain "choices" are definitely represented as being "rights" more often than others. However, I'm not entirely sure when the correct choice for professional women became to have a family and a career. Or, indeed, to have a family before a career, which really seems to be what the women in question represent. Rather, career first, family later has seemed the way to go, which is why unplanned pregnancies, and especially unplanned pregnancies before a certain age are deemed damaging and burdensome. Or did I misunderstand something all this time? I don't think so. So is feminism rethinking itself (again)? Is it in crisis? Is it obsolete? Or is it just imperfectly represented for political expedience?
Or am I, in concert with the author of the article, merely focusing too hard on meaningless offhand remarks that likely meant very little except for image-building purposes? Probably. And I can even make a literacy-orality reference. In our era of recording technology, remarks uttered in a specific context, that otherwise would have evaporated after being spoken, whose context could not have been recreated after the utterance was spoken, are preserved. We can hold those who spoke the words responsible for their offhand remarks as if they had been written. We can, of course, alter the context through selective editing, but then written words can be taken out of context also. However, the fact remains that we have the words, and the lives of the women who are holding themselves up as our role models. Would they have represented themselves the same 10 years ago? 20? And does this say more about what the women of the country want to hear, or what message these women want to convey?
Lest anyone consider too conservatively the assertion that "[m]ore young women at elite colleges are planning to stay home with their children," it should be mentioned that doing just that is becoming a status marker among young women, at least in certain parts of the country. The idea seems to be, why work if you don't have to? An extension of why should I take an elective if I don't have to? or why should I pay for my own car/apartment/college/etc. if my parents are willing to do so? I'd like to follow-up on that survey and see how many of those who decide to "stay home with their children" have them in child care before the age of one year for one reason or another that is not economically-based. Is this the rise of the family, or of a voluntarily leisured class (instead of involuntarily chained to the home, or voluntarily working)? Who knows?
I apologize if your self-righteousness meter is off the charts, here. The article raises a number of questions, and I have related them with a hearty measure of cynicism. I will not say, with the author of the Post Chronicle quote, "O.K. now, ladies, stop the cat-fight!" I think that what is at stake here is larger than bi-partisan sisterhood. I think it has to do with how each and every one of us views family in general and motherhood (or mothering) in particular, how our politicians think we feel about these issues, and how our media thinks we ought to feel. Now, who can tell me which is which?
What questions does this article raise for me? I'm not sure. Perhaps what it says about what we want to believe women are, or do, or whatever. The point seems to be that, while ostensibly, all choices for women are equally valid, in the political arena, this is not the case. This is no new news. Certain "choices" are definitely represented as being "rights" more often than others. However, I'm not entirely sure when the correct choice for professional women became to have a family and a career. Or, indeed, to have a family before a career, which really seems to be what the women in question represent. Rather, career first, family later has seemed the way to go, which is why unplanned pregnancies, and especially unplanned pregnancies before a certain age are deemed damaging and burdensome. Or did I misunderstand something all this time? I don't think so. So is feminism rethinking itself (again)? Is it in crisis? Is it obsolete? Or is it just imperfectly represented for political expedience?
Or am I, in concert with the author of the article, merely focusing too hard on meaningless offhand remarks that likely meant very little except for image-building purposes? Probably. And I can even make a literacy-orality reference. In our era of recording technology, remarks uttered in a specific context, that otherwise would have evaporated after being spoken, whose context could not have been recreated after the utterance was spoken, are preserved. We can hold those who spoke the words responsible for their offhand remarks as if they had been written. We can, of course, alter the context through selective editing, but then written words can be taken out of context also. However, the fact remains that we have the words, and the lives of the women who are holding themselves up as our role models. Would they have represented themselves the same 10 years ago? 20? And does this say more about what the women of the country want to hear, or what message these women want to convey?
Lest anyone consider too conservatively the assertion that "[m]ore young women at elite colleges are planning to stay home with their children," it should be mentioned that doing just that is becoming a status marker among young women, at least in certain parts of the country. The idea seems to be, why work if you don't have to? An extension of why should I take an elective if I don't have to? or why should I pay for my own car/apartment/college/etc. if my parents are willing to do so? I'd like to follow-up on that survey and see how many of those who decide to "stay home with their children" have them in child care before the age of one year for one reason or another that is not economically-based. Is this the rise of the family, or of a voluntarily leisured class (instead of involuntarily chained to the home, or voluntarily working)? Who knows?
I apologize if your self-righteousness meter is off the charts, here. The article raises a number of questions, and I have related them with a hearty measure of cynicism. I will not say, with the author of the Post Chronicle quote, "O.K. now, ladies, stop the cat-fight!" I think that what is at stake here is larger than bi-partisan sisterhood. I think it has to do with how each and every one of us views family in general and motherhood (or mothering) in particular, how our politicians think we feel about these issues, and how our media thinks we ought to feel. Now, who can tell me which is which?
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Housewife, Peasant woman, or Academic mom?
The current generation of working women is still rebelling against the housewife-image perfected by the Donna Reed and June Cleaver generation. I firmly believe this to be true. Feminism was founded on a rejection of the domestic standards upheld by the women who are no longer our mothers, but perhaps now our grandmothers. However, having lost touch with the actual experience of that familial life, are we rebelling against an idea that is hollow--the TV sitcom version of the dutiful wife/mother--or is there any remaining offense to be had?
Consider this. . . The woman of the 40's and 50's was an updated "angel of the house," if you will. She was the ruler of the domestic sphere, until her husband returned from work to find his steak and mashed potatoes on the table. She cooked and cleaned, shopped on a budget, raised children, and perhaps not much else. Who knows anymore? She was the apple of the eye of product developers and advertising agencies. More commercials and products were geared to this woman than to any single consumer today. Well, no. Children are the number one target today, and what does that say about who runs the household? But you take my point. We look at her full skirts and her plastic smile and listen to the Stones' "Mother's Little Helper" to understand all that was wrong with our perfect image of her. Of course, my generation doesn't really have an image of her that is separate from the criticism. She is not my grandmother, though they were contemporaries and share some of the same problems. And so I, also, reject this image, as I have been taught.
During (and perhaps immediately after) my younger child was born in the autumn of 2005, my dissertation adviser (and friend and confidant) had a running joke about me--that I was one of those "peasant women" who give birth in the field, then strap the baby to their backs and keep working. Strictly speaking, this is not true, though it was great for a chuckle. I emphatically did not want to, or, more accurately perhaps, feel that I should have to work in the months immediately after my baby was born. It turns out that I did not merely stay at home and bond with my baby, but that's another tale. . . I have colleagues who were in the classroom within weeks of giving birth. I freely admit that I could not have done this! Instead, I waited through October, November, and December, took on a less-demanding-than-teaching assistantship, and eased back into teaching in the summer and fall. I also took a class on professionalism in the fall.
I have heard and read many discussions recently about childcare, from a friend who is confused & vexed, a blogger whose husband became distressed after she recovered somewhat from first-time daycare blues, from a committed stay-at-home blogger mom lamenting "outsourced motherhood."
[An aside: my 15-month-old just dialed a play phone, help it to her ear, and said "bye bye" before the recorded voice!! Cute!!]
My own experience with childcare is limited. My husband & I did not put our son in any form of child care until he was 3; rather, we "swapped" child care duties literally between graduate classes. Until after kindergarten, which he attended part time, one of us was with him for most of the day. Last August I sincerely tried to place my baby in a church mother's-day-out program one day a week, but after two days of observation/trial, I simply could not. I just do not trust others with my baby--both for emotional and hygienic reasons. We both became very ill after that day of observation, which did nothing for my resolve or self-confidence.
[Just changed a diaper and had my daughter take 3 steps to me!]
Working-woman daycare culture is clearly not for me. However, while I have arranged the past 2 semesters so that I could stay with my daughter during the day and teach in the evenings, when she could be with Daddy, I can not identify myself as a "stay-at-home mom." I criticize both camps, perhaps too freely. That's not my purpose here, however.
It is ingrained in my consciousness that a mother needs to take care of herself while taking care of her children, insofar as it is possible to do both. In spite of extremely difficult situations, including a stretch as a single mother of me and a marriage that was even worse than the first, my mother managed to raise 6 children to believe that taking care of children is valuable, and that one can accomplish a great deal while doing so.
We have a rather unhealthy dichotomy in our contemporary conception of motherhood--a word that good feminists would avoid because it connotes an identity rather than an act--"working mother" is set in opposition to "stay-at-home mom." These terms are interesting in themselves, as "mother" lends more of an air of seriousness to the former situation than the less formal "mom." Hmmmm. . . Of course, working part-time in order to parent also connotes certain personal and financial sacrifices for family. I am aware of a married couple who divorced due to their conflict over whose career was more important. No children without compromise! For me, academia, perhaps grad school in particular! offers a reasonable compromise between these competing versions of motherhood. And dual academic careers are ideal.
But I wanted to think again about the 1940s housewife and the "peasant woman." We base our rejection of "traditional" motherhood on the former, but include the latter in our conceptualization of oppressed women of previous generations who had no choice but to bear children, etc. We differ because we have autonomy, can choose careers, can choose to mother, the possibilities are endless! But are our choices presented fairly? Are we always sacrificing something that the other choice offers? Two roads diverged, and all that. . . I choose to multitask--to work with a baby at my feet (not on my back!). I take care of her; she is mine; I am mine.
Consider this. . . The woman of the 40's and 50's was an updated "angel of the house," if you will. She was the ruler of the domestic sphere, until her husband returned from work to find his steak and mashed potatoes on the table. She cooked and cleaned, shopped on a budget, raised children, and perhaps not much else. Who knows anymore? She was the apple of the eye of product developers and advertising agencies. More commercials and products were geared to this woman than to any single consumer today. Well, no. Children are the number one target today, and what does that say about who runs the household? But you take my point. We look at her full skirts and her plastic smile and listen to the Stones' "Mother's Little Helper" to understand all that was wrong with our perfect image of her. Of course, my generation doesn't really have an image of her that is separate from the criticism. She is not my grandmother, though they were contemporaries and share some of the same problems. And so I, also, reject this image, as I have been taught.
During (and perhaps immediately after) my younger child was born in the autumn of 2005, my dissertation adviser (and friend and confidant) had a running joke about me--that I was one of those "peasant women" who give birth in the field, then strap the baby to their backs and keep working. Strictly speaking, this is not true, though it was great for a chuckle. I emphatically did not want to, or, more accurately perhaps, feel that I should have to work in the months immediately after my baby was born. It turns out that I did not merely stay at home and bond with my baby, but that's another tale. . . I have colleagues who were in the classroom within weeks of giving birth. I freely admit that I could not have done this! Instead, I waited through October, November, and December, took on a less-demanding-than-teaching assistantship, and eased back into teaching in the summer and fall. I also took a class on professionalism in the fall.
I have heard and read many discussions recently about childcare, from a friend who is confused & vexed, a blogger whose husband became distressed after she recovered somewhat from first-time daycare blues, from a committed stay-at-home blogger mom lamenting "outsourced motherhood."
[An aside: my 15-month-old just dialed a play phone, help it to her ear, and said "bye bye" before the recorded voice!! Cute!!]
My own experience with childcare is limited. My husband & I did not put our son in any form of child care until he was 3; rather, we "swapped" child care duties literally between graduate classes. Until after kindergarten, which he attended part time, one of us was with him for most of the day. Last August I sincerely tried to place my baby in a church mother's-day-out program one day a week, but after two days of observation/trial, I simply could not. I just do not trust others with my baby--both for emotional and hygienic reasons. We both became very ill after that day of observation, which did nothing for my resolve or self-confidence.
[Just changed a diaper and had my daughter take 3 steps to me!]
Working-woman daycare culture is clearly not for me. However, while I have arranged the past 2 semesters so that I could stay with my daughter during the day and teach in the evenings, when she could be with Daddy, I can not identify myself as a "stay-at-home mom." I criticize both camps, perhaps too freely. That's not my purpose here, however.
It is ingrained in my consciousness that a mother needs to take care of herself while taking care of her children, insofar as it is possible to do both. In spite of extremely difficult situations, including a stretch as a single mother of me and a marriage that was even worse than the first, my mother managed to raise 6 children to believe that taking care of children is valuable, and that one can accomplish a great deal while doing so.
We have a rather unhealthy dichotomy in our contemporary conception of motherhood--a word that good feminists would avoid because it connotes an identity rather than an act--"working mother" is set in opposition to "stay-at-home mom." These terms are interesting in themselves, as "mother" lends more of an air of seriousness to the former situation than the less formal "mom." Hmmmm. . . Of course, working part-time in order to parent also connotes certain personal and financial sacrifices for family. I am aware of a married couple who divorced due to their conflict over whose career was more important. No children without compromise! For me, academia, perhaps grad school in particular! offers a reasonable compromise between these competing versions of motherhood. And dual academic careers are ideal.
But I wanted to think again about the 1940s housewife and the "peasant woman." We base our rejection of "traditional" motherhood on the former, but include the latter in our conceptualization of oppressed women of previous generations who had no choice but to bear children, etc. We differ because we have autonomy, can choose careers, can choose to mother, the possibilities are endless! But are our choices presented fairly? Are we always sacrificing something that the other choice offers? Two roads diverged, and all that. . . I choose to multitask--to work with a baby at my feet (not on my back!). I take care of her; she is mine; I am mine.
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