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 gender roles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gender roles. Show all posts
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Today's Surprises
1) I was surprised today that I had no fewer than 4 text messages from my mom when I turned on my phone after Mass.
2) My mom was surprised today by a representative from her mortgage company trying to change the locks on her house--she made him go away for now. . .
3) I was surprised that my favorite yummy pizza buffet place has raised their prices. We used to get a lunch buffet for $4.25. Now, it's $8.00. :(
4) I was surprised today to learn that a friend of mine from high school Speech & Debate is running for Louisiana State Representative. Well okay, not too surprised. But I was surprised when he offered to help my mom find a job if he could!
5) I was surprised today when asked in the grocery store by my son's former Religious Education teacher, from whom I had taken Communion only hours earlier, if this baby was going to be my last. I think I surprised both of us when I said, "And what kind of a Catholic would I be if I said 'yes'?"
6) I was surprised to learn that Chris has given me an award! (More on that later.) I was even more surprised, given what the award was, to find out that it was given to him!!
7) I have been surprised all weekend by the number of responses on Jen's post on ambitious women and staying at home. I was surprised to find myself in agreement with the anonymous poster that caused Jen to disallow anonymous posts. I was also surprised to find myself defending stay-at-home moms from the accusation that they were trying to find company in their misery. No really, I was surprised by that! I was not too surprised to see the conversation devolve into the "you think you know what's best for everyone" type of dialogue. That kind of thing just happens too often.
8) I was surprised not to be able to think of 3 more surprising things. I really wanted to make it 10. . .
9) I wasn't really surprised when my husband went on a cleaning spree. He does that kind of thing from time to time--much more often than I do.
10) I was surprised when he hurt a muscle cleaning and said it was divine retribution because I'm not fulfilling my womanly role. You see, I've been telling him about Jen's post! ;)
2) My mom was surprised today by a representative from her mortgage company trying to change the locks on her house--she made him go away for now. . .
3) I was surprised that my favorite yummy pizza buffet place has raised their prices. We used to get a lunch buffet for $4.25. Now, it's $8.00. :(
4) I was surprised today to learn that a friend of mine from high school Speech & Debate is running for Louisiana State Representative. Well okay, not too surprised. But I was surprised when he offered to help my mom find a job if he could!
5) I was surprised today when asked in the grocery store by my son's former Religious Education teacher, from whom I had taken Communion only hours earlier, if this baby was going to be my last. I think I surprised both of us when I said, "And what kind of a Catholic would I be if I said 'yes'?"
6) I was surprised to learn that Chris has given me an award! (More on that later.) I was even more surprised, given what the award was, to find out that it was given to him!!
7) I have been surprised all weekend by the number of responses on Jen's post on ambitious women and staying at home. I was surprised to find myself in agreement with the anonymous poster that caused Jen to disallow anonymous posts. I was also surprised to find myself defending stay-at-home moms from the accusation that they were trying to find company in their misery. No really, I was surprised by that! I was not too surprised to see the conversation devolve into the "you think you know what's best for everyone" type of dialogue. That kind of thing just happens too often.
8) I was surprised not to be able to think of 3 more surprising things. I really wanted to make it 10. . .
9) I wasn't really surprised when my husband went on a cleaning spree. He does that kind of thing from time to time--much more often than I do.
10) I was surprised when he hurt a muscle cleaning and said it was divine retribution because I'm not fulfilling my womanly role. You see, I've been telling him about Jen's post! ;)
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
So What Do Good Catholic Women Do?
Though I admit that I am piggybacking off of other blogs I've read, I have been honestly searching for the answer to this question. I get a lot of negatives:
I also get some tentatives (of which that last "don't" might be considered one):
Of course, these are rather bloggy answers, and likely don't reflect the opinions of the majority of Catholic women, for what that's worth. And even my bloggers probably don't agree with all of the negatives or all of the tentatives. Incidently, I am not contesting those of the above that are specific Church teachings, I'm just pointing out the phrasing which suggests a defining of femininity in the negative--that is, we're defined by what we're not (thank you, Irigaray).
I think we all agree that what one does on a day-to-day basis should reflect one's faith. At least, I've heard enough homilies on the subject to know that that's how it should work, ideally. But where we go from there is another question. I have been attacked on a blog for making the tongue-in-cheek comment that I was going to wear pants to Mass--and I do, most of the time. Nice pants, but pants. Now this doesn't mean that I want to be a man, or that I think gender is socially constructed (sorry to my fellow-academics, I just don't find Judith Butler all that convincing--fun to play with, but not convincing!). I'm pretty much a nature & nurture kind of gal. There are some aspects of gender that are tied to biology. However, there are many, many messages that we receive from family and society that condition us to think in terms of what the appropriate roles are for each gender. There is nothing inherently masculine about paying bills, yet men in the early part of the 20th Century took this upon themselves as part of being "breadwinners" (or making sure the wife didn't find out about the mistress or the booze money). There is nothing inherently feminine about doing housework, as my husband can tell you. But how many husbands acknowledge this? In how many households are cooking and cleaning duties shared equitably? I'd like to think an increasing number do share, but I'd need to see some statistical proof. My friend was told by a religion teacher at a Catholic high school that men are not suitable caregivers for their own children because of their sexual proclivities. I'm tempted to think that this is not particularly biological, and represents this person's own tendencies toward deviance. Scary.
And then there's the NFP literature, which tells me more about what women do and do not, should and should not do. It seems, for example, that women do not (or perhaps should not) really want sex. They tolerate it, perhaps even tolerate it willingly, but really they welcome the opportunity to abstain during fertile times so that they are not overwhelmed by their husbands' sex drive. (No, I'm not making this stuff up.) Now, biologically speaking, it is during the fertile time that the female sex drive is highest. That would be why the human species is able to perpetuate itself in spite of all logical objections, but this isn't the Catholic in me speaking, it's the skeptic, so moving right along. . . As for men, they are so lusty that the wife needs to be careful not to wear "that shorty nightgown" that turns him on when they have agreed to space pregnancies, because then she's being a tease. Now, do keep in mind that this stuff was written by a couple now in their 70s. It needs to be updated a bit!
There is a lot of self-sacrifice required of the Catholic woman, as far as I can tell. Much more than is required of the Catholic man. While both are doled equal shares of "talent" (I'm not sure about "time" and "treasure," since these vary greatly from person to person regardless of gender), how she uses hers is dependent to a degree on her fertility. I see this not as a mandate of the Church, but rather, as a cultural determination, depending on the social Catholicism around her. Theoretically, it is possible that if a woman is called to some kind of service, even if married, that this vocation could constitute a valid reason to limit family size. On the other hand, there are plenty of Catholic women who believe in women's ability to have a family and pursue a career, and others who feel that motherhood precludes returning to work. I was raised with the idea that a woman can be a mother and pursue other interests--even outside of the home--without her children suffering. In fact, it was always a matter of pride for me that my mother had the talents that she did. I hope that my children may feel the same about me.
J. R. R. Tolkien has been criticized because his wife had the talent to be a famous concert pianist, but married him and raised his children instead. I don't think he is to blame for this, though social conventions were. Had she had the choice to pursue both, would she have done so? Was it unfair on some level that she was not able to pursue her unique talent?
There is a tendency to restrict women to their single vocation to the exclusion of all else. A man who chooses to work is not restricted from being a father. The religious life is a special case for both sexes, because it is a specific, life-long devotion and dedication of self. But if a woman has talents that may have wider applications than child-rearing, must she channel all of herself into that role? Or should it be acknowledged that she has a lot to offer her children, and a lot to offer others as well?
Well, like all good rhetorical questions, mine imply their own answers. I was amused Easter Sunday by a woman who, when the priest commented that we have overcome the idea, common in Judaism at Jesus's time, that women are subservient, looked at the person next to her with wide-eyed indignation. Her expression was plain, as if to say, "Oh, have we?" Unfortunately, I can see where she may have gotten the impression that we haven't--not necessarily from the Church, but from fellow-Catholics. Or she may be harping on birth control and abortion, which is also possible. I will choose to assume that those issues did not motivate her expression.
So what do good Catholic women do? The same as good Catholic men, while of course, acknowledging their biological differences. I know all about men and women being created different for a reason. I am less clear about what exactly this means, and what the practical implications are. I believe that JPII addressed this at length in one of his works, though it is my understanding that his theorizing is not prescriptive, but allows for conscientious interpretation. Yet so frequently, I am met with the "God-given differences between men and women" in support of a prejudice against some thing that feminists say is O.K., whether it's working or wearing pants or whatever. As far as I can tell, we are called to act in accordance with the teachings of the Church and discern insofar as we are able what God's will is for our lives. For me right now, that means finishing the Ph.D., eventually looking for a job, and raising 3 children (not 2!) as faithfully as possibly!
Now what it means to be a Catholic academic, I haven't figured out yet. . .
- They don't use birth control
- They don't dress immodestly
- They are not priests (and maybe shouldn't be altar servers)
- They don't (or shouldn't) go back to work after having children
I also get some tentatives (of which that last "don't" might be considered one):
- They might (if they're very traditional) cover their heads in church
- They probably have more than one child (when possible)
- They might homeschool (or at least supplement the education their children receive with a hearty complement of orthodoxy)
- They should volunteer in the parish whenever possible, but not to the exclusion of men
Of course, these are rather bloggy answers, and likely don't reflect the opinions of the majority of Catholic women, for what that's worth. And even my bloggers probably don't agree with all of the negatives or all of the tentatives. Incidently, I am not contesting those of the above that are specific Church teachings, I'm just pointing out the phrasing which suggests a defining of femininity in the negative--that is, we're defined by what we're not (thank you, Irigaray).
I think we all agree that what one does on a day-to-day basis should reflect one's faith. At least, I've heard enough homilies on the subject to know that that's how it should work, ideally. But where we go from there is another question. I have been attacked on a blog for making the tongue-in-cheek comment that I was going to wear pants to Mass--and I do, most of the time. Nice pants, but pants. Now this doesn't mean that I want to be a man, or that I think gender is socially constructed (sorry to my fellow-academics, I just don't find Judith Butler all that convincing--fun to play with, but not convincing!). I'm pretty much a nature & nurture kind of gal. There are some aspects of gender that are tied to biology. However, there are many, many messages that we receive from family and society that condition us to think in terms of what the appropriate roles are for each gender. There is nothing inherently masculine about paying bills, yet men in the early part of the 20th Century took this upon themselves as part of being "breadwinners" (or making sure the wife didn't find out about the mistress or the booze money). There is nothing inherently feminine about doing housework, as my husband can tell you. But how many husbands acknowledge this? In how many households are cooking and cleaning duties shared equitably? I'd like to think an increasing number do share, but I'd need to see some statistical proof. My friend was told by a religion teacher at a Catholic high school that men are not suitable caregivers for their own children because of their sexual proclivities. I'm tempted to think that this is not particularly biological, and represents this person's own tendencies toward deviance. Scary.
And then there's the NFP literature, which tells me more about what women do and do not, should and should not do. It seems, for example, that women do not (or perhaps should not) really want sex. They tolerate it, perhaps even tolerate it willingly, but really they welcome the opportunity to abstain during fertile times so that they are not overwhelmed by their husbands' sex drive. (No, I'm not making this stuff up.) Now, biologically speaking, it is during the fertile time that the female sex drive is highest. That would be why the human species is able to perpetuate itself in spite of all logical objections, but this isn't the Catholic in me speaking, it's the skeptic, so moving right along. . . As for men, they are so lusty that the wife needs to be careful not to wear "that shorty nightgown" that turns him on when they have agreed to space pregnancies, because then she's being a tease. Now, do keep in mind that this stuff was written by a couple now in their 70s. It needs to be updated a bit!
There is a lot of self-sacrifice required of the Catholic woman, as far as I can tell. Much more than is required of the Catholic man. While both are doled equal shares of "talent" (I'm not sure about "time" and "treasure," since these vary greatly from person to person regardless of gender), how she uses hers is dependent to a degree on her fertility. I see this not as a mandate of the Church, but rather, as a cultural determination, depending on the social Catholicism around her. Theoretically, it is possible that if a woman is called to some kind of service, even if married, that this vocation could constitute a valid reason to limit family size. On the other hand, there are plenty of Catholic women who believe in women's ability to have a family and pursue a career, and others who feel that motherhood precludes returning to work. I was raised with the idea that a woman can be a mother and pursue other interests--even outside of the home--without her children suffering. In fact, it was always a matter of pride for me that my mother had the talents that she did. I hope that my children may feel the same about me.
J. R. R. Tolkien has been criticized because his wife had the talent to be a famous concert pianist, but married him and raised his children instead. I don't think he is to blame for this, though social conventions were. Had she had the choice to pursue both, would she have done so? Was it unfair on some level that she was not able to pursue her unique talent?
There is a tendency to restrict women to their single vocation to the exclusion of all else. A man who chooses to work is not restricted from being a father. The religious life is a special case for both sexes, because it is a specific, life-long devotion and dedication of self. But if a woman has talents that may have wider applications than child-rearing, must she channel all of herself into that role? Or should it be acknowledged that she has a lot to offer her children, and a lot to offer others as well?
Well, like all good rhetorical questions, mine imply their own answers. I was amused Easter Sunday by a woman who, when the priest commented that we have overcome the idea, common in Judaism at Jesus's time, that women are subservient, looked at the person next to her with wide-eyed indignation. Her expression was plain, as if to say, "Oh, have we?" Unfortunately, I can see where she may have gotten the impression that we haven't--not necessarily from the Church, but from fellow-Catholics. Or she may be harping on birth control and abortion, which is also possible. I will choose to assume that those issues did not motivate her expression.
So what do good Catholic women do? The same as good Catholic men, while of course, acknowledging their biological differences. I know all about men and women being created different for a reason. I am less clear about what exactly this means, and what the practical implications are. I believe that JPII addressed this at length in one of his works, though it is my understanding that his theorizing is not prescriptive, but allows for conscientious interpretation. Yet so frequently, I am met with the "God-given differences between men and women" in support of a prejudice against some thing that feminists say is O.K., whether it's working or wearing pants or whatever. As far as I can tell, we are called to act in accordance with the teachings of the Church and discern insofar as we are able what God's will is for our lives. For me right now, that means finishing the Ph.D., eventually looking for a job, and raising 3 children (not 2!) as faithfully as possibly!
Now what it means to be a Catholic academic, I haven't figured out yet. . .
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Book Notes: The People of Sparks
A week or so ago I finished reading The People of Sparks, which is the Second Book of Ember, a series that began with The City of Ember, which I mention here, here, and here. Obviously, the first book was interesting enough to merit reading the second, and once again, I was fairly pleasantly surprised. It was not as good as the first, but avoided the didacticism I feared in a book about rebuilding civilization after an apocalypse, particularly one written post-9/11. However, a couple of features of the book merit a brief mention.
Towards the end of The People of Sparks, I had a revelation, as I did at the end of The City of Ember. However, while The City of Ember evoked Plato, The People of Sparks evoked no less illustrious an author than Dr. Seuss. Now, I love Dr. Seuss, but was surprised when, likely by no conscious design of the author, I considered the moment when the people from two competing cities were, to their own eyes and to each other, indistinguishable, and thought, "The Star-Bellied Sneetches"! This moment in the book, the moment of resolution, was rather simplistic. We are building to a crisis that could result in war. One or two individuals are trying to provoke the war (or at least failing to see a solution other than violence) while one or two are trying to prevent the war. In the tense moment before the violence--or perhaps in the tense moment after the onset of violence--a disaster occurs that threatens to destroy the livelihood of one group. This presents the perfect opportunity for a "joining together," spurred by the bravery of one individual.
Now, the actions involved were noble, but it does beg the question, which, ideally, should be considered by the reader--what would have happened had the disaster not occurred? Likely violence. So does this mean that it requires a disaster for the proactive individual to take the step--doing good instead of evil, or at least avoiding doing evil--that is necessary for the prevention of violence? This strikes me as a bit of the Deus Ex Machina. I would have liked to see the people work things out without near-divine intervention (or pure chance, which frequently substitutes for the divine).
Another rather surprising element of the book, in retrospect, is the almost complete lack of heterosexual pairings--there are no traditional families! Well, O.K., there's one. But we do not feel this to be the norm. Admittedly, there are displaced persons (better not to call them refugees) who have to create alternate living arrangements for the sake of space, but among these, there are many young people who are mentioned independent of any parental figures (not wholly unknown in children's fiction). The "families" are generally single-parent. The main characters have a father on the one hand (an entirely male family of two), and a foster-mother and a sister on the other hand (an entirely female family of three). These alternative families existed in the first book, but events at the end of the second book throw them into sharp relief.
One alternative family arrangement consists of a single doctor and her neglected orphan nephew. Our heroine, her sister, and their guardian move in with the doctor and her nephew. There is another nephew, a "roamer," who is the apple of his little brother's eye. When he arrives with a female "partner" (in roaming), things begin to go awry. However, the "partner" considers him unfit for companionship, which, indeed, he is--but he didn't have to be. This was a creative choice on the part of the author. So this non-traditional female escaping from her home city, a failing city, joins forces with our own heroine, and befriends her. So far, so good. Eventually, this large, soft-spoken female joins with the other large, soft-spoken female--the former greenhouse keeper--to become her apprentice and learn about growing plants.
At nearly every turn, heterosexual unions--or close heterosexual friendships--are avoided. There is even a teeny-bopper who falls in love with the most charming male present, usually a sweet-talking con-man or rabble-rouser, who clearly signals the dangers of charismatic men and unchecked heterosexual attraction (not a bad message, and one that can also be found in Louisa May Alcott). The notable example is the hero and heroine, who remain (wonderfully, in my opinion) good friends with no hint of a pre-adolescent romance.
In contrast to the other books intended for this age range, which are largely over-sexual, this can be seen as a significant improvement. However, the lack of viable heterosexual couples remains troubling, particularly for a civilization that is trying to rebuild itself. In the declining City of Ember, where dysfunction would have been understandable, there is nevertheless more of a "feeling" of family unity. I suppose we are to surmise that the hope of the future rests with the pre-adolescent generation, which is fitting for a pre-adolescent book with post-adolescent appeal.
Towards the end of The People of Sparks, I had a revelation, as I did at the end of The City of Ember. However, while The City of Ember evoked Plato, The People of Sparks evoked no less illustrious an author than Dr. Seuss. Now, I love Dr. Seuss, but was surprised when, likely by no conscious design of the author, I considered the moment when the people from two competing cities were, to their own eyes and to each other, indistinguishable, and thought, "The Star-Bellied Sneetches"! This moment in the book, the moment of resolution, was rather simplistic. We are building to a crisis that could result in war. One or two individuals are trying to provoke the war (or at least failing to see a solution other than violence) while one or two are trying to prevent the war. In the tense moment before the violence--or perhaps in the tense moment after the onset of violence--a disaster occurs that threatens to destroy the livelihood of one group. This presents the perfect opportunity for a "joining together," spurred by the bravery of one individual.
Now, the actions involved were noble, but it does beg the question, which, ideally, should be considered by the reader--what would have happened had the disaster not occurred? Likely violence. So does this mean that it requires a disaster for the proactive individual to take the step--doing good instead of evil, or at least avoiding doing evil--that is necessary for the prevention of violence? This strikes me as a bit of the Deus Ex Machina. I would have liked to see the people work things out without near-divine intervention (or pure chance, which frequently substitutes for the divine).
Another rather surprising element of the book, in retrospect, is the almost complete lack of heterosexual pairings--there are no traditional families! Well, O.K., there's one. But we do not feel this to be the norm. Admittedly, there are displaced persons (better not to call them refugees) who have to create alternate living arrangements for the sake of space, but among these, there are many young people who are mentioned independent of any parental figures (not wholly unknown in children's fiction). The "families" are generally single-parent. The main characters have a father on the one hand (an entirely male family of two), and a foster-mother and a sister on the other hand (an entirely female family of three). These alternative families existed in the first book, but events at the end of the second book throw them into sharp relief.
One alternative family arrangement consists of a single doctor and her neglected orphan nephew. Our heroine, her sister, and their guardian move in with the doctor and her nephew. There is another nephew, a "roamer," who is the apple of his little brother's eye. When he arrives with a female "partner" (in roaming), things begin to go awry. However, the "partner" considers him unfit for companionship, which, indeed, he is--but he didn't have to be. This was a creative choice on the part of the author. So this non-traditional female escaping from her home city, a failing city, joins forces with our own heroine, and befriends her. So far, so good. Eventually, this large, soft-spoken female joins with the other large, soft-spoken female--the former greenhouse keeper--to become her apprentice and learn about growing plants.
At nearly every turn, heterosexual unions--or close heterosexual friendships--are avoided. There is even a teeny-bopper who falls in love with the most charming male present, usually a sweet-talking con-man or rabble-rouser, who clearly signals the dangers of charismatic men and unchecked heterosexual attraction (not a bad message, and one that can also be found in Louisa May Alcott). The notable example is the hero and heroine, who remain (wonderfully, in my opinion) good friends with no hint of a pre-adolescent romance.
In contrast to the other books intended for this age range, which are largely over-sexual, this can be seen as a significant improvement. However, the lack of viable heterosexual couples remains troubling, particularly for a civilization that is trying to rebuild itself. In the declining City of Ember, where dysfunction would have been understandable, there is nevertheless more of a "feeling" of family unity. I suppose we are to surmise that the hope of the future rests with the pre-adolescent generation, which is fitting for a pre-adolescent book with post-adolescent appeal.
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