That title didn't get you, did it? ;)
So recently, the baby daughter has been interested in television--too interested in television, perhaps, except that her interest is really limited to music. She loves Sesame Street's musical skits--we don't actually watch the shows, as I have serious problems with the "new, improved" Sesame Street for the young generations. Instead, I have classic Sesame Street dvds (of the first few seasons) with "classic cuts"--that is, just the cool musical parts everyone loves. We also have Sesame Street videos from when my son was younger, before every dvd & video had to be Elmo-themed. Now we have the tyranny of Elmo!!
But I'm talking about Veggie Tales. When my son was younger, we collected the Veggie Tales videos. We first got hooked on the "Silly Songs," and expanded from there. We stopped about the time of "King George and the Ducky." For any who aren't familiar with Veggie Tales, they are animated vegetables who perform various moral tales, some biblical stories, all Bible-based. They are nondenominational Christian vegetables (though the creators chose to include only Old Testament stories, presumably to leave them open for all Judeo-Christian vieweres, though the Bible verse at the end is usually New Testament). The production value is good--rare for Christian children's productions--and the music is particularly stimulating. The silly songs are really the best--they provide a brief intermission in the tape, which usually included 2 episodes (I suspect the dvds are structured differently, but as the creators no longer have control, I refuse to upgrade to the dvds.)
There have always been some problems with the Veggie Tales versions of Bible stories--a misinterpretation of the stories, or the show's "fun" element rather took away from the story or promoted well, gluttony in the case I'm thinking of. In another case, there was a watering down of "mature themes" that wasn't appropriate for children's tapes, even in their watered-down form. In the case of 'King George and the Ducky," King George (read David) covets the *ahem* rubber ducky of one of his soldiers, and sends the soldier--a child vegetable character--to the front lines to be disposed of. The soldier does not die, but instead contracts a pie-induced version of shell-shock. To me, this was pretty much the last straw. They clearly went off the deep end in too many ways. Perhaps this was the beginning of their legal troubles. The earlier tales are much better.
Even among the "good" ones, though, I had some problems. Case in point (and the real subject of this post) is "Josh and the Big Wall." I remember singing songs in Protestant Sunday School about Joshua and the battle of Jericho. (I always liked the songs.) Even before becoming Catholic--in fact, dating back to my earliest introduction to Veggie Tales (through an Evangelical Protestant friend of my mom's), I had issues with this one. . . You see, the Veggies are reenacting the Isrealites' flight from Egypt. Moses has just died, and they are able to enter the Promised Land. The creators (of the show) took the phrase "a land flowing with milk & honey" and ran with it. The Isrealite Veggies are singing about all of the decadent things they will eat in the Promised Land--tacos, pintos 'n cheese, waffles; when they get to the city, slushies abound, and are the means of attack on the Isrealites by the people of Jericho.
When we reached a temporary Jim Henson saturation point the other day, I brought out the Silly Song sing-alongs, one of which includes the "Promised Land" song from "Josh and the Big Wall." We haven't really watched Veggie Tales since I became Catholic & we all started attending Mass regularly--except during my son's First Reconciliation "retreat" (or whatever), which featured "God Wants Me to Forgive Them?", slightly modified for church consumption. (It didn't really fit.) So my husband and I were groaning over the "Promised Land" song over the weekend, and it occurred to me that from a Catholic perspective, the following line is particularly grievous:
For years, we've eaten nothing but manna,
A dish that is filling, but bland...
So they put all that behind them in order to pig out in the Promised Land.
Well, the first thing I noticed as a convert, or as one who desired the Eucharist and was moving toward a conversion, were the Eucharistic and Proto-Eucharistic references throughout the Bible--Old Testament and New Testament--which go way beyond the account of the Last Supper. Manna, as God-given bread, is a striking example, and prepared for the Bread of Life: Christ's gift of Himself in the Eucharist. So beyond the fact that the video portrays a serious lack of gratitude for the fact that God has sustained the Isrealites through 40 years in the desert, there is the further disparagement of the heavenly bread that is a promise of the Gift of Christ (in) and the Eucharist.
Now, I am not going to go so far as to say that this was intentional (though if you look closely, the manna does look a bit like hosts). But it is a grave oversight on a couple of levels. Even non-Catholics should have a problem with the fact that the source of the humor is lack of gratitude and greed. Not exactly the values we want to promote. Some might take offense because of the caricature of the Isrealites. I think this is mostly innocent. And it will certainly not stop me from watching Veggie Tales--at least the good ones. But it is a caution to realize that non-denominational, even in the best possible sense, does not necessarily mean Catholic-sensitive. I mean, really--the Eucharist? Bland??
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Monday, May 7, 2007
What Kind of Catholic Am I?
O.K., so this isn't too surprising. Actually, it may be surprising to some who are more conservative and traditionalist than I am. But come on. . . You answer a couple of questions about liking Gregorian Chant and suddenly they're assuming that you challenge Vatican II? Clearly, the person who wrote this quiz has been reading too many blogs! ;)
| You scored as Traditional Catholic. You look at the great piety and holiness of the Church before the Second Vatican Council and the decay of belief and practice since then, and see that much of the decline is due to failed reforms based on the "Spirit of the Council". You regret the loss of vast numbers of Religious and Ordained clergy and the widely diverging celebrations of the Mass of Pope Paul VI, which often don't even seem to be Catholic anymore. You are helping to rebuild this past culture in one of the many new Traditional Latin Mass communities or attend Eastern Catholic Divine Liturgy. You seek refuge from the world of pornography, recreational drugs, violence, and materialism. You are an articulate, confident, committed, and intelligent Catholic. But do you support legitimate reform of the Church, and are you willing to submit to the directives of the Second Vatican Council? Will you cooperate responsibly with others who are not part of the Traditional community? http://saint-louis.blogspot.com - Rome of the West
What is your style of American Catholicism? created with QuizFarm.com |
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Momma & Baby "Stuff"
The great thing about having recently had a baby is that I have most of the baby essentials pretty much covered (especially if this next one is a girl!) Now, there are things that will have to be replaced--I will need a stroller that can accommodate two babies, for example! And I will probably want a new carseat, since the one I have only holds a baby up to 20 lbs or so and is a bit smaller than some of the current models. I will want one of the carrier varieties that is a bit larger so that I don't have to worry about another carseat until the baby is actually a year old. Hopefully, big sister will be ready for a smaller, booster-style by then, and we won't have to attach big brother to the luggage rack! So to make up for the fact that I have most of the basics covered, there are a number of things that I found that I would have loved to have with the last one, that I will probably be buying in increments while I wait for number 3! So I'm listing these so that I won't forget, and so that other parents can see the cool stuff that is out there to make our lives easier! I confess--I love baby gadgets!
Baby Shopping List
Duo stroller
Infant seat that holds up to 30 lbs
Crib futon (for the toddler bed, actually)
Nurse-N-Glow Lighted Nursing Pillow -or- The Nursing Nest (anyone have a favorite?)
Electronic Nasal Aspirator!!!
And one of those thermometers that takes a reading off of the forehead.
Actually, that's the list right now. I will also be buying more babyproofing things for the apartment, since the toddler will be able to roam pretty freely. For example:
Baby gates for either side of the walk-through kitchen
Door knob protectors (thinking of Anastasia's post)
Knob covers for the stove (if the knobs are on the front)
Power strip safety covers
And of course, I have my own list:
Momma Shopping List
Nursing Patterns: dress pattern, nursing twinset pattern
Sling Pattern
All manner of Earth Mama Angel Baby Products!
And look at this cool alternative to a hospital gown! (I won't buy this one--kinda frivolous)
I have already bought a very cute batik print to make the sling--it's creamy with light hints of greeny-blues, and has a purplish vine-pattern on it. I'm excited about it! I also bought a pattern to make a cute purse that will coordinate, but it has enough pockets & flaps and compartments to accommodate diapers & wipes--just a small to-go bag. There are other baby carrier patterns that interest me, too. Here are a couple with directions online:
Beth's Man Tai (silly name)
Mae Mei Tai
And here's an article about someone who's had almost as much trouble with baby carriers as I have! Clearly, the second trimester is here and I'm getting into baby-mode. Now if only I didn't have to grade, write, and prepare for a class that starts May 29th. Oh! And move! Anyone got a truck? ;)
Baby Shopping List
Duo stroller
Infant seat that holds up to 30 lbs
Crib futon (for the toddler bed, actually)
Nurse-N-Glow Lighted Nursing Pillow -or- The Nursing Nest (anyone have a favorite?)
Electronic Nasal Aspirator!!!
And one of those thermometers that takes a reading off of the forehead.
Actually, that's the list right now. I will also be buying more babyproofing things for the apartment, since the toddler will be able to roam pretty freely. For example:
Baby gates for either side of the walk-through kitchen
Door knob protectors (thinking of Anastasia's post)
Knob covers for the stove (if the knobs are on the front)
Power strip safety covers
And of course, I have my own list:
Momma Shopping List
Nursing Patterns: dress pattern, nursing twinset pattern
Sling Pattern
All manner of Earth Mama Angel Baby Products!
And look at this cool alternative to a hospital gown! (I won't buy this one--kinda frivolous)
I have already bought a very cute batik print to make the sling--it's creamy with light hints of greeny-blues, and has a purplish vine-pattern on it. I'm excited about it! I also bought a pattern to make a cute purse that will coordinate, but it has enough pockets & flaps and compartments to accommodate diapers & wipes--just a small to-go bag. There are other baby carrier patterns that interest me, too. Here are a couple with directions online:
Beth's Man Tai (silly name)
Mae Mei Tai
And here's an article about someone who's had almost as much trouble with baby carriers as I have! Clearly, the second trimester is here and I'm getting into baby-mode. Now if only I didn't have to grade, write, and prepare for a class that starts May 29th. Oh! And move! Anyone got a truck? ;)
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!
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
It's always nice. . .
. . .when, after a mostly disappointing semester, one of the best students in the class (not a perfect writer, but with a lot of native intelligence and a will to learn) sits down and takes the time to tell you that he feels like the class really helped his writing, and that certain types of assignments helped in particular with his tendency to procrastinate. He seems to have enjoyed the class well enough (for a required class)--overall he was very positive--and says he will come back by to visit. Considering the number of times I have second-guessed myself this semester, these were nice things to hear. I am not the most devoted of teachers, I fear. I will make a good slacker-professor someday. I tend to start off the semester with a measure of ambition and enthusiasm, which wanes just before midway in the semester. (See the Reasons I Don't Homeschool post!) Of course, it is better with some classes, and this class just had a weird dynamic--or rather, no dynamic. Anyway, it's over. And it's nice to have a measure of appreciation even during an "off" semester!
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Suddenly Pregnant!
O.K., you are all acquainted with the fact that I'm pregnant--13 weeks now, by the most reliable calculations. But suddenly and without warning, nothing fits! I am trying to remember how soon this happened with my daughter, but I think it was more gradual. And I was buying maternity clothes earlier because I didn't have any nice spring-summer clothes anyway, so I figured that I might as well buy maternity clothes (which I like) instead of buying larger sizes, etc. This time I have been making due with my drawstring linen pants, but they aren't really buttoning. I have taken out maternity t-shirts, which really don't look too different from the t-shirts I normally wear, but whatever t-shirts I wear, and whatever pants I wear, I look much more than 3 months pregnant! By this time last pregnancy, I was probably dying to look pregnant. And I have no pregnancy body-image problems; I like my body better pregnant than not! But this has been literally in the past 2-3 days! I haven't actually gained any weight. And the "transitional" pregnancy wear doesn't work for me because I don't like low-rise anything (if you've already got a pot-belly, low rise is not a nice effect). Anyway, it feels sudden. Probably the third-baby effect. And probably not helped by the fact that it really is fat and not really baby at this point. *sigh* But I'll probably make the best of it and go shopping after payday on Tuesday!
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Cat's out of the bag. . .
That was the subject of the email that I sent to my dissertation director after the graduate coordinator told him my news--before I did--for the second time!! That's what I get for being cautious! I wasn't intentionally not telling him that I was pregnant, but I wasn't telling anyone yet. I like to wait until close to the second trimester, just for my own peace of mind. I told the graduate coordinator--who has been less than supportive of late--mainly because I was worried about the implications for my fall teaching assignment. If I deliver in early November, I will have a month left of teaching--and probably 2 writing projects to collect. If the baby comes early, as my last did, I will have much more class time to try to fill either by distance or proxy.
While the grad coordinator has not been particularly supportive to others, she did not say anything to me. Of course, I told her via email, I used the "unexpectedly pregnant" phrase, and I did not really ask for much. Still, she seems to feel the need to inform every newly pregnant graduate student (myself excluded) of her own choices with regard to family and profession. What is interesting about that is that her choices were shaped not only by a different "wave" of feminism--and, consequently, by a different perception of the effect of motherhood on a woman's autonomy, but also by a different academic climate--arguably one that was less friendly toward women and families than the current academic climate, whatever statistics and surveys (which typically survey those who are of the same generation as the graduate coordinator in question) may say to the contrary. Of course, one's expectation for the intermingling of family life and academic career depend greatly on one's goals for placement. I have never aspired to the Research 1 university. I think I can publish just as much with less pressure at a second tier university. Madam Grad Coordinator hails from one of the top ranked R1 universities--at least an initial postdoc or non-tenure, and considered herself a pretty radical feminist at one point. These things leave a mark on one's consciousness, even if one ends up at a Texas public university with delusions of grandeur (the university, not the professor).
The climate among the graduate students is overwhelmingly supportive. It's true that the department "baby boom" is a bit amusing from a certain standpoint--I mean, from when I entered the program until the first baby in the recent sequence--a little over two years ago--only one graduate student became pregnant (and only one faculty member, but that was quite a different situation), and she came into the program married and had 2 children (and 10 years on me) by the time I met her. She was the anomaly--even beyond an "exception." Quite a different story now! It's wonderful to have the support of other grad student moms--even if it is only expressed indirectly, or by a brief acknowledgment of a common situation. However, I am finding it to be much more. Today at a baby shower, I had one grad student offer to take one or more of my class sessions in the fall after the baby comes. This was completely unexpected! I admit, I thought I would have to make arrangements for myself and wing it as best I could. In a way, I guess I thought that by figuring things out for myself, perhaps in consultation with Grad Coordinator (and, it turns out, dissertation-director-soon-to-be-department-head), I would be preparing myself for when I actually have a tenure-track job. The line of reasoning lies something like this: well, without artificial birth control, "oopses" happen; in academia, there is no such thing as "maternity leave" (unless one happens to be working on a book and eligible for a sabbatical, but then one has to produce a book and a baby); thus, when "oopses" happen, if one still wants a paycheck, one must teach and use available resources (in this case, electronic) to make it happen. I did not quite consider that colleagues are, indeed, resources!
The above rationale is a distinct departure from my attitude toward pregnancy-and-baby-number-two. Since I had actually, consciously decided to have a baby, I felt, somehow, that I should be able to take time off and devote time and effort to the pregnancy and the baby to the exclusion of all else. As it turned out, I was able to take a rather nice break from working, but family and natural disasters prevented this break from being as baby-focused as I had imagined. This time, I have a very "life goes on" attitude--which sounds harsh, but which doesn't exclude joy or appreciation of the new life beginning! It's merely a more practical and realistic (and hopefully productive) approach to the whole school-work- baby process. It's similar to the attitude I had when I was pregnant for my first, only with my first it was a very "in your face" "see what I can do and have a baby too?" kind of attitude. I was proving something that I believed in--that life did not cease in any sense with pregnancy. It's a firm belief of mine, and a recurring theme on the blog, I think. Call it a reaction against "The Awakening"--a text I have always despised. At any rate, I hope the "hurry up and finish before the baby comes" urge kicks in instead of the "sit back and wait for baby," because I really would like to graduate sometime this decade! (Things are looking good for a May 2008 graduation. Shhhh! Don't tell the student loan companies!)
So with the cat out of the bag to the faculty (or the two who matter most), the cat came further out of the bag last Sunday, when I told my oldest, who is 10. I had been waiting to tell him, because of the usual reasons, but also because I just didn't quite know how to tell him. Imagine being nervous about telling a 10-year-old about a pregnancy! I knew he would be excited, I just didn't quite know how to approach the subject. Well, we were having dinner with a friend of ours who is a deacon and baptized both our son and daughter, and who will baptize our new one, and he mentioned baptizing our new one, and how it will be the most children he has baptized from the same family. Our son perked up a bit at this, but remained quiet. At home, he started to ask, but dismissed it as something he didn't quite understand. Later that evening, we explained the remark, and told him that he would have a new sibling. He burst into tears!! He was so happy! (It also rather explained why I've been tired and nauseous--a real cause of concern to him--for several weeks!) He then told my youngest brother, who is 2 1/2 years older than my son, and is crazy about little babies.
At the baby shower today (a grad-student affair), there was baby talk all around, so a few new people learned the "secret." All good. Now for the 18-month-old. . . Hmmm. . .
While the grad coordinator has not been particularly supportive to others, she did not say anything to me. Of course, I told her via email, I used the "unexpectedly pregnant" phrase, and I did not really ask for much. Still, she seems to feel the need to inform every newly pregnant graduate student (myself excluded) of her own choices with regard to family and profession. What is interesting about that is that her choices were shaped not only by a different "wave" of feminism--and, consequently, by a different perception of the effect of motherhood on a woman's autonomy, but also by a different academic climate--arguably one that was less friendly toward women and families than the current academic climate, whatever statistics and surveys (which typically survey those who are of the same generation as the graduate coordinator in question) may say to the contrary. Of course, one's expectation for the intermingling of family life and academic career depend greatly on one's goals for placement. I have never aspired to the Research 1 university. I think I can publish just as much with less pressure at a second tier university. Madam Grad Coordinator hails from one of the top ranked R1 universities--at least an initial postdoc or non-tenure, and considered herself a pretty radical feminist at one point. These things leave a mark on one's consciousness, even if one ends up at a Texas public university with delusions of grandeur (the university, not the professor).
The climate among the graduate students is overwhelmingly supportive. It's true that the department "baby boom" is a bit amusing from a certain standpoint--I mean, from when I entered the program until the first baby in the recent sequence--a little over two years ago--only one graduate student became pregnant (and only one faculty member, but that was quite a different situation), and she came into the program married and had 2 children (and 10 years on me) by the time I met her. She was the anomaly--even beyond an "exception." Quite a different story now! It's wonderful to have the support of other grad student moms--even if it is only expressed indirectly, or by a brief acknowledgment of a common situation. However, I am finding it to be much more. Today at a baby shower, I had one grad student offer to take one or more of my class sessions in the fall after the baby comes. This was completely unexpected! I admit, I thought I would have to make arrangements for myself and wing it as best I could. In a way, I guess I thought that by figuring things out for myself, perhaps in consultation with Grad Coordinator (and, it turns out, dissertation-director-soon-to-be-department-head), I would be preparing myself for when I actually have a tenure-track job. The line of reasoning lies something like this: well, without artificial birth control, "oopses" happen; in academia, there is no such thing as "maternity leave" (unless one happens to be working on a book and eligible for a sabbatical, but then one has to produce a book and a baby); thus, when "oopses" happen, if one still wants a paycheck, one must teach and use available resources (in this case, electronic) to make it happen. I did not quite consider that colleagues are, indeed, resources!
The above rationale is a distinct departure from my attitude toward pregnancy-and-baby-number-two. Since I had actually, consciously decided to have a baby, I felt, somehow, that I should be able to take time off and devote time and effort to the pregnancy and the baby to the exclusion of all else. As it turned out, I was able to take a rather nice break from working, but family and natural disasters prevented this break from being as baby-focused as I had imagined. This time, I have a very "life goes on" attitude--which sounds harsh, but which doesn't exclude joy or appreciation of the new life beginning! It's merely a more practical and realistic (and hopefully productive) approach to the whole school-work- baby process. It's similar to the attitude I had when I was pregnant for my first, only with my first it was a very "in your face" "see what I can do and have a baby too?" kind of attitude. I was proving something that I believed in--that life did not cease in any sense with pregnancy. It's a firm belief of mine, and a recurring theme on the blog, I think. Call it a reaction against "The Awakening"--a text I have always despised. At any rate, I hope the "hurry up and finish before the baby comes" urge kicks in instead of the "sit back and wait for baby," because I really would like to graduate sometime this decade! (Things are looking good for a May 2008 graduation. Shhhh! Don't tell the student loan companies!)
So with the cat out of the bag to the faculty (or the two who matter most), the cat came further out of the bag last Sunday, when I told my oldest, who is 10. I had been waiting to tell him, because of the usual reasons, but also because I just didn't quite know how to tell him. Imagine being nervous about telling a 10-year-old about a pregnancy! I knew he would be excited, I just didn't quite know how to approach the subject. Well, we were having dinner with a friend of ours who is a deacon and baptized both our son and daughter, and who will baptize our new one, and he mentioned baptizing our new one, and how it will be the most children he has baptized from the same family. Our son perked up a bit at this, but remained quiet. At home, he started to ask, but dismissed it as something he didn't quite understand. Later that evening, we explained the remark, and told him that he would have a new sibling. He burst into tears!! He was so happy! (It also rather explained why I've been tired and nauseous--a real cause of concern to him--for several weeks!) He then told my youngest brother, who is 2 1/2 years older than my son, and is crazy about little babies.
At the baby shower today (a grad-student affair), there was baby talk all around, so a few new people learned the "secret." All good. Now for the 18-month-old. . . Hmmm. . .
Friday, April 20, 2007
Babies & Baptism
I have been knowing since I took a course on Dante in grad school in '98 that Limbo was not an official Catholic Doctrine. Presumably, some Catholics, the general public, and the Associated Press did not know that. Bound up with my reservations about the Church in general and Baptism in particular was a deep suspicion in a Church that believed that unbaptized babies were excluded from heaven--after all, how could a just & loving God condemn innocents? Especially if some of the more decadent Hebrew Patriarchs were to be retroactively released from Hell? When I did come to accept that Baptism was indeed a Sacrament, not just something you did to prove to your church that you were "Saved" (which was what I had learned from my experiences at the churches I attended as a child--not meaning to offend), the question persisted--what happened to those who remained unbaptized by no fault of their own? I knew what C. S. Lewis said (in The Last Battle), but he was not Catholic (emphatically not, at times). But gradually I saw that there had to be room in God's mercy for innocents and honest truth-seekers, and that the Church in no way contradicted that realization. While awaiting Baptism myself, I was comforted by the idea of "Baptism of Desire," uncertain though that might be (knowing whether I was covered by that provision seemed as vague as knowing whether I was "Saved"). I don't know when I first rationalized that unbaptized babies must be subject to God's mercy, but I am happy to find that I am supported by Pope Benedict XVI.
From Yahoo! News:
VATICAN CITY - . . . . .
"We can say we have many reasons to hope that there is salvation for these babies," the Rev. Luis Ladaria, a Jesuit who is the commission's secretary-general, told The Associated Press.
. . . . .
Although Catholics have long believed that children who die without being baptized are with original sin and thus excluded from heaven, the church has no formal doctrine on the matter. Theologians have long taught, however, that such children enjoy an eternal state of perfect natural happiness, a state commonly called limbo, but without being in communion with God. Pope John Paul II and Benedict had urged further study on limbo, in part because of "the pressing pastoral needs" sparked by the increase in abortion and the growing number of children who die without being baptized, the report said.
From Yahoo! News:
VATICAN CITY - . . . . .
"We can say we have many reasons to hope that there is salvation for these babies," the Rev. Luis Ladaria, a Jesuit who is the commission's secretary-general, told The Associated Press.
. . . . .
Although Catholics have long believed that children who die without being baptized are with original sin and thus excluded from heaven, the church has no formal doctrine on the matter. Theologians have long taught, however, that such children enjoy an eternal state of perfect natural happiness, a state commonly called limbo, but without being in communion with God. Pope John Paul II and Benedict had urged further study on limbo, in part because of "the pressing pastoral needs" sparked by the increase in abortion and the growing number of children who die without being baptized, the report said.
In the document, the commission said there were "serious theological and liturgical grounds for hope that unbaptized infants who die will be saved and brought into eternal happiness."
It stressed, however, that "these are reasons for prayerful hope, rather than grounds for sure knowledge."
Ladaria said no one could know for certain what becomes of unbaptized babies since Scripture is largely silent on the matter.
Catholic parents should still baptize their children, as that sacrament is the way salvation is revealed, the document said.
I like that final phrasing, that "that sacrament is the way salvation is revealed." I particularly like the fact that it does not imply that infant Baptism achieves or guarantees salvation in any way--rather, it establishes a firm foundation for the Christian life of the individual.Thursday, April 19, 2007
Because Terminology Matters
I stumbled across a phrase today that I like. Instead of having an "unplanned pregnancy," I find myself "unexpectedly pregnant." I like this distinction for a couple of reasons:
1. It avoids the politically-charged term "unplanned": If a pregnancy is "unplanned," than one should have gone to "Planned Parenthood," no?
2. The word "pregnancy" is a noun, a thing, something that one "has" that is distinctly separate from one's being. Therefore, there is a certain amount of theoretical distance implied. The pregnancy is, in fact, an "Other," a "not-self," and may be treated as such, to achieve distance until one is ready to "deal with" the emotional implications of the "thing." (Here, the "pregnancy" is the "thing," not the baby, which does not yet need to be considered in this linguistic construct.)
3. The word "pregnant," by contrast, is an adjective--it implies a state of being, in fact, a temporary state of being, something that will not last forever. Because it is a state of being, it is connected to the person who is being modified by the term, "pregnant": I am pregnant. You are pregnant. I was pregnant two years ago. I am pregnant for my third child. When I was pregnant for my first, I was 19. . .
4. The word "unplanned" is negative. It suggests negligence--literally, a "failure to plan."
5. By contrast, "unexpected" things can be good. Or interesting. Like "An Unexpected Party," for example. "Unexpected" things can yield an adventure.
Maybe we should use the term more often. Maybe it'll catch on.
1. It avoids the politically-charged term "unplanned": If a pregnancy is "unplanned," than one should have gone to "Planned Parenthood," no?
2. The word "pregnancy" is a noun, a thing, something that one "has" that is distinctly separate from one's being. Therefore, there is a certain amount of theoretical distance implied. The pregnancy is, in fact, an "Other," a "not-self," and may be treated as such, to achieve distance until one is ready to "deal with" the emotional implications of the "thing." (Here, the "pregnancy" is the "thing," not the baby, which does not yet need to be considered in this linguistic construct.)
3. The word "pregnant," by contrast, is an adjective--it implies a state of being, in fact, a temporary state of being, something that will not last forever. Because it is a state of being, it is connected to the person who is being modified by the term, "pregnant": I am pregnant. You are pregnant. I was pregnant two years ago. I am pregnant for my third child. When I was pregnant for my first, I was 19. . .
4. The word "unplanned" is negative. It suggests negligence--literally, a "failure to plan."
5. By contrast, "unexpected" things can be good. Or interesting. Like "An Unexpected Party," for example. "Unexpected" things can yield an adventure.
Maybe we should use the term more often. Maybe it'll catch on.
Defensible Space
The recent events at Virginia Tech have the effect of making me acutely aware of the number of windows and doors in the rooms in which I teach. Like 1 door, no windows. The proverbial "ducks in a barrel."
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
I'm calling it a Catholic Motherhood Meme
Well, I feel the need to post this now rather than tomorrow, as I had intended, because for some reason, the original post was removed! We had just finished a lively exchange over at Sphere of Influence that I linked to the other day. . .
The following questions were posted by Angela Messenger on the same day I posted my So What Do Good Catholic Women Do? post. She asks "What Makes a Woman a Good Catholic Mom?
1. Is it a woman who has 10 children? Or 8? Or 6? Or 2?
2. Is it a married woman who stays at home? Should she work? In a "career" or a "job."?
3. Does a good Catholic mom pursue her dreams of further education for herself while her children are still at home? Or should she put her own ambitions aside to raise her kids?
4. Does a good Catholic mom take her kids to weekday Mass as well as Sunday Mass? Does a good Catholic mom let the kids have one weekend "off" from Mass a month?
5. Does a good Catholic mom use any kind of birth control?
6. Does a good Catholic mom home-school or send the kids to parochial school or can/should they go to public school?
7. Does a good Catholic mom defer to her husband as the head of the house? Is she obedient to him?
8. If a Catholic mom is divorced and has received a decree of nullity should she be able to date?
9. Should Catholic moms volunteer in lay ministry, teaching catechism, leading adult bible study or a prayer group or should she be looking after her kids?
Just some points to ponder. I don't expect an answer to each question like this is a quiz. Just trying to put my finger on the pulse of Catholic motherhood.
The thing is, these can be answered according to opinion, or according to the catechism. But since I'm on kind of a roll today, here are my answers:
1. Family size is a very personal thing, even for a Catholic woman. It depends on what the married couple feels is advisable given their own set of circumstances. While the Church teaches that married couples should be "open to life," it does not prescribe what that means. It is possible that the needs of one child, or the ability of the parents to care for the child or children, might dictate the need to refrain from having a large number of children. The guidelines, as I understand it, are to determine family size according to generosity, but also to be sensible in what the family can support emotionally and financially.
2. Well, I think we all know pretty well what I have to say about motherhood excluding a career.
3. There is no reason that any mother--Catholic or not--should refrain from pursuing her own educational goals. A well-educated mother can only benefit her family and her children. In addition, it is counterproductive for any Catholic to suggest that a mother must refrain from educating herself for the benefit of her children, as this contributes to the "motherhood as self-defeating" and "motherhood as self-negating" principle (á la Kate Chopin) that feminists latch onto in order to justify such things as elective abortions. If motherhood prevents women from achieving self-realization through education and developing her intellect, then why should it be valued as a role for women? In order to combat that thinking, we need to combat what leads to that thinking. Had I stopped my education when I became pregnant with my son, I still would not have completed my B.A. Had I not continued my education, I would very likely not be Catholic now. So what kind of Catholic mother would I be?
4. If the family is able to attend daily Mass, that is wonderful. Some parishes' Mass schedules are a bit prohibitive, and I've already discussed squirmy toddler issues! But please--letting the kids have the weekend off from Mass? Yes, let's teach them to disrespect the seriousness of the Mass and the Church's requirement that every Baptized Catholic attend every Sunday, so that we can wonder why they stop going to Mass in high school or college!
5. See Humanae Vitae.
6. Educational choices depend so much on the schools available in the area where the family lives. I think that parochial schools should be considered, but if unacceptable for educational or religious reasons, there is no reason that a good public school can not be acceptable, as long as the correct religious education is also provided. (See a future posting for my ideas about homeschooling.)
7. A good Catholic family is composed of a husband and wife who have mutual respect for one another. I can't imagine any situation in which a wife should "obey" her husband against her better judgment, and if the two respect each others' intelligence and judgment, there should be no question of "deferment"; rather, both parents should be able to guide the family through mutual understanding.
8. I think that if an annulment is granted, whether or not to date is a personal decision. The children should not be permitted to manipulate the mother through guilt, but neither should the children be subjected to undue stress. Basically, the same cautions would apply to this case in terms of the children's well-being as are typically advised in a divorce situation. Otherwise, she should conduct herself as morally and discreetly as any Catholic single dating.
9. All Catholics, as I understand it, are called to volunteer their time to the Church insofar as they are able. Some family situations allow for this more than others, and I don't think that anyone would say that it should cause the mother or family undue inconvenience to volunteer. I have seen the argument that children can be involved in the volunteering and should be taught about volunteering, but that does depend on the number and ages of the children. If a mother has to enroll her children in daycare in order to volunteer, is that in the right spirit of Catholic volunteering or Catholic motherhood? Similarly, if she leaves as soon as her husband comes home in order to volunteer with her parish, is this in the best interest of her family as a whole? Again, this varies greatly depending on the dynamic within a family.
So essentially, my conclusions from my last post remain more or less unchanged, with some more specific provisions. We are called to discern, as Catholic women and Catholic mothers, how we can best care for our families and respond to God's will in our lives. As long as we do so faithfully, we are being "good Catholic mothers."
The following questions were posted by Angela Messenger on the same day I posted my So What Do Good Catholic Women Do? post. She asks "What Makes a Woman a Good Catholic Mom?
1. Is it a woman who has 10 children? Or 8? Or 6? Or 2?
2. Is it a married woman who stays at home? Should she work? In a "career" or a "job."?
3. Does a good Catholic mom pursue her dreams of further education for herself while her children are still at home? Or should she put her own ambitions aside to raise her kids?
4. Does a good Catholic mom take her kids to weekday Mass as well as Sunday Mass? Does a good Catholic mom let the kids have one weekend "off" from Mass a month?
5. Does a good Catholic mom use any kind of birth control?
6. Does a good Catholic mom home-school or send the kids to parochial school or can/should they go to public school?
7. Does a good Catholic mom defer to her husband as the head of the house? Is she obedient to him?
8. If a Catholic mom is divorced and has received a decree of nullity should she be able to date?
9. Should Catholic moms volunteer in lay ministry, teaching catechism, leading adult bible study or a prayer group or should she be looking after her kids?
Just some points to ponder. I don't expect an answer to each question like this is a quiz. Just trying to put my finger on the pulse of Catholic motherhood.
The thing is, these can be answered according to opinion, or according to the catechism. But since I'm on kind of a roll today, here are my answers:
1. Family size is a very personal thing, even for a Catholic woman. It depends on what the married couple feels is advisable given their own set of circumstances. While the Church teaches that married couples should be "open to life," it does not prescribe what that means. It is possible that the needs of one child, or the ability of the parents to care for the child or children, might dictate the need to refrain from having a large number of children. The guidelines, as I understand it, are to determine family size according to generosity, but also to be sensible in what the family can support emotionally and financially.
2. Well, I think we all know pretty well what I have to say about motherhood excluding a career.
3. There is no reason that any mother--Catholic or not--should refrain from pursuing her own educational goals. A well-educated mother can only benefit her family and her children. In addition, it is counterproductive for any Catholic to suggest that a mother must refrain from educating herself for the benefit of her children, as this contributes to the "motherhood as self-defeating" and "motherhood as self-negating" principle (á la Kate Chopin) that feminists latch onto in order to justify such things as elective abortions. If motherhood prevents women from achieving self-realization through education and developing her intellect, then why should it be valued as a role for women? In order to combat that thinking, we need to combat what leads to that thinking. Had I stopped my education when I became pregnant with my son, I still would not have completed my B.A. Had I not continued my education, I would very likely not be Catholic now. So what kind of Catholic mother would I be?
4. If the family is able to attend daily Mass, that is wonderful. Some parishes' Mass schedules are a bit prohibitive, and I've already discussed squirmy toddler issues! But please--letting the kids have the weekend off from Mass? Yes, let's teach them to disrespect the seriousness of the Mass and the Church's requirement that every Baptized Catholic attend every Sunday, so that we can wonder why they stop going to Mass in high school or college!
5. See Humanae Vitae.
6. Educational choices depend so much on the schools available in the area where the family lives. I think that parochial schools should be considered, but if unacceptable for educational or religious reasons, there is no reason that a good public school can not be acceptable, as long as the correct religious education is also provided. (See a future posting for my ideas about homeschooling.)
7. A good Catholic family is composed of a husband and wife who have mutual respect for one another. I can't imagine any situation in which a wife should "obey" her husband against her better judgment, and if the two respect each others' intelligence and judgment, there should be no question of "deferment"; rather, both parents should be able to guide the family through mutual understanding.
8. I think that if an annulment is granted, whether or not to date is a personal decision. The children should not be permitted to manipulate the mother through guilt, but neither should the children be subjected to undue stress. Basically, the same cautions would apply to this case in terms of the children's well-being as are typically advised in a divorce situation. Otherwise, she should conduct herself as morally and discreetly as any Catholic single dating.
9. All Catholics, as I understand it, are called to volunteer their time to the Church insofar as they are able. Some family situations allow for this more than others, and I don't think that anyone would say that it should cause the mother or family undue inconvenience to volunteer. I have seen the argument that children can be involved in the volunteering and should be taught about volunteering, but that does depend on the number and ages of the children. If a mother has to enroll her children in daycare in order to volunteer, is that in the right spirit of Catholic volunteering or Catholic motherhood? Similarly, if she leaves as soon as her husband comes home in order to volunteer with her parish, is this in the best interest of her family as a whole? Again, this varies greatly depending on the dynamic within a family.
So essentially, my conclusions from my last post remain more or less unchanged, with some more specific provisions. We are called to discern, as Catholic women and Catholic mothers, how we can best care for our families and respond to God's will in our lives. As long as we do so faithfully, we are being "good Catholic mothers."
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, April 17, 2007
Tagged for the First Time!
(Sounds naughty, doesn't it?) But here it is, and Mrs. Darwin tagged me:
Booked by 3 Meme
Name up to three characters . . .
1) . . . you wish were real so you could meet them.
3) . . . who scare you.
I tag:
Booked by 3 Meme
Name up to three characters . . .
1) . . . you wish were real so you could meet them.
- Treebeard (Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien)
- the Jesuit priest from "The Star" by Arthur C. Clarke
- Mustapha Mond (Huxley's Brave New World)
- Yavanna, wife of Aulë, creator of the trees Telperion and Laurelin (The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien)
- Elizabeth Dalloway, daughter of Clarissa Dalloway (Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway), but only temporarily. I mean, where was she that day? Besides riding on the top of an omnibus?
- the boy (from Forster's "Celestial Omnibus")
- Morgaine (from The Mists of Avalon by Marian Zimmer Bradley)
- Nicholas or Armand (from The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice)
- Dorian Grey (from Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Grey)
3) . . . who scare you.
- Duke Ferrara (from "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning, though he might just be historical...)
- Lazarus Long (whom I'd like to meet, but only for conversation!)
- Stephen Daedalus (from Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man)
I tag:
- Chris from Stuff as Dreams are Made On
- Entropy from Sphere of Influence
- Sarah of Mommy, Ph.D. (whenever she gets a chance!)
Monday, April 16, 2007
Opportunities for Dialogue
Thanks to the comment she posted on my blog, I discovered blogger Entropy's "Sphere of Influence," which raises a lot of good, Catholic questions. It is refreshing to see a blogger really engaging with issues of faith, including asking questions when questions need to be asked and seeking faithful answers. I am engaged at present with her questions for Traditionalists, on which post I have been embarrassingly outspoken. She asks and answers some good questions about Virginity in a slightly older post, and I have found any number of probing discussions by browsing around a bit.
In a more academic mode, I was able to engage with fellow grad-students & professors to give input about the standard syllabus for Freshman Composition--the bane of every incoming Freshman (who didn't test out) and the 2nd year grad students who have to teach it. My gripe--teaching a novel for one of the major papers when they haven't even learned what they need to about writing yet, and won't with the distraction of "Argument as Literature" or "Arguing about Literature." Introducing the novel to the course was part of a two-fold effort to engage the university with a community reading project and pacify grad students who wanted to be teaching literature. I would rather be teaching literature (except that it requires more prep work that I won't need with a new baby on the way and I'm finally fairly happy with my syllabus for the first time in 6 years of teaching). But pretending that a writing course can accommodate literature and all of its assorted teaching baggage--er, difficulties--strikes me as a little naive. Besides that the novels in question were not particularly compelling to me personally, and it's never fun to teach someone else's "pet issues." Sure, one involved literacy, but from the perspective of literacy-acquisition and racial injustice, which is not where I'm coming from at all, though it is interesting in its own right. So we discussed the issue of teaching a book, the particular writing assignments, and some general strategies for improving classroom interaction. All good.
After this meeting, there was a brainstorming session for the 4C's conference (College Composition and Communication), which will be in New Orleans next year and I need an easy-to-get-to conference on my cv. Being on home turf is always a good thing, especially since the family could come with me and I hate traveling alone (which would not be an option anyway since I will have a 4-month-old!). So we talked about possible panels and it looks like we will be organizing one around the people who are working with literacy theory. One person is doing literacy acquisition narratives, one is doing technology & literacy, and I am doing literacy as portrayed in literature. I was informed of an article that intersects somewhat with what I am doing--even down to the time period. Also, I was able to explain--in rather more detail than I expected, after being asked to elaborate--what I am writing about for the dissertation. This had the happy result of making me think about what I was doing. An hour or so later, in Cheddar's, we ran into a former professor of my husband's, who also asked for the dissertation-in-a-nutshell, and giving the quick & dirty account of one's research project is always a beneficial thing. So I find myself slightly more interested in thinking about work than usual--all in time to prepare for tomorrow's class. Oh well. That's how it works! But at least it will be a workshop-y class, which I advocated at the meeting today and which seem productive for my class this semester. Those classes have much less prep than the ones in which I really have to teach something.
Interesting that these on-campus meetings were possible because my son was home (he had a cold, but wouldn't have been going to school anyway). Otherwise, I would have missed the first meeting, which began at 3. I realize that I need a bit more of this talking-to-people about academic stuff. It's just a pain to drag myself to the meetings to interact with people. I need to work on that. Did you notice "sloth" as one of my major sins?
In a more academic mode, I was able to engage with fellow grad-students & professors to give input about the standard syllabus for Freshman Composition--the bane of every incoming Freshman (who didn't test out) and the 2nd year grad students who have to teach it. My gripe--teaching a novel for one of the major papers when they haven't even learned what they need to about writing yet, and won't with the distraction of "Argument as Literature" or "Arguing about Literature." Introducing the novel to the course was part of a two-fold effort to engage the university with a community reading project and pacify grad students who wanted to be teaching literature. I would rather be teaching literature (except that it requires more prep work that I won't need with a new baby on the way and I'm finally fairly happy with my syllabus for the first time in 6 years of teaching). But pretending that a writing course can accommodate literature and all of its assorted teaching baggage--er, difficulties--strikes me as a little naive. Besides that the novels in question were not particularly compelling to me personally, and it's never fun to teach someone else's "pet issues." Sure, one involved literacy, but from the perspective of literacy-acquisition and racial injustice, which is not where I'm coming from at all, though it is interesting in its own right. So we discussed the issue of teaching a book, the particular writing assignments, and some general strategies for improving classroom interaction. All good.
After this meeting, there was a brainstorming session for the 4C's conference (College Composition and Communication), which will be in New Orleans next year and I need an easy-to-get-to conference on my cv. Being on home turf is always a good thing, especially since the family could come with me and I hate traveling alone (which would not be an option anyway since I will have a 4-month-old!). So we talked about possible panels and it looks like we will be organizing one around the people who are working with literacy theory. One person is doing literacy acquisition narratives, one is doing technology & literacy, and I am doing literacy as portrayed in literature. I was informed of an article that intersects somewhat with what I am doing--even down to the time period. Also, I was able to explain--in rather more detail than I expected, after being asked to elaborate--what I am writing about for the dissertation. This had the happy result of making me think about what I was doing. An hour or so later, in Cheddar's, we ran into a former professor of my husband's, who also asked for the dissertation-in-a-nutshell, and giving the quick & dirty account of one's research project is always a beneficial thing. So I find myself slightly more interested in thinking about work than usual--all in time to prepare for tomorrow's class. Oh well. That's how it works! But at least it will be a workshop-y class, which I advocated at the meeting today and which seem productive for my class this semester. Those classes have much less prep than the ones in which I really have to teach something.
Interesting that these on-campus meetings were possible because my son was home (he had a cold, but wouldn't have been going to school anyway). Otherwise, I would have missed the first meeting, which began at 3. I realize that I need a bit more of this talking-to-people about academic stuff. It's just a pain to drag myself to the meetings to interact with people. I need to work on that. Did you notice "sloth" as one of my major sins?
7 Deadly Sins
| Greed: | Medium | |
| Gluttony: | High | |
| Wrath: | Very Low | |
| Sloth: | Very High | |
| Envy: | Medium | |
| Lust: | Very Low | |
| Pride: | Very Low |
I don't disagree with too much, here. I did figure pride would be higher, though.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Forced into homeschooling?
Possibly. For 5 weeks, anyway. I don't really know what to do, since the teacher that taught my child 1st-3rd grade has refused to take him "for his own good." Essentially, she's afraid he won't get much out of the time. Or doesn't want to bother. I don't think he'll get much out of the last 5 weeks anyway--what child does? I just want him to be enrolled somewhere so he isn't regarded as having too many absences. I'm not sure what the public schools' policies are with regard to readmitting students who were homeschooled for all or part of a year, but I doubt if they're pretty. I don't want him to start summer early, because that's sending a bad message. But I'm afraid of him being mistreated by his Catholic school teacher who gave homework over Easter. And of course, there is pride involved--mine. And I've got a lot of it. But I'm no more equipped to figure out what to have him do for the last 5 weeks--not to mention buying the supplies--than I am to take college Calculus! Ugh! On the other hand, this would mean about $450 more in my pocket (that I could use to buy supplies for 5 weeks) and someone to watch the baby while I took a bath so I could try to get out of the house more to attend meetings. We could call it--what term do they use in Montessori? "practical life"? Still, this means a lot of anxiety. But more than if he stayed in school??
Thursday, April 12, 2007
School Year Woes
Dear Dr. Principal,
I realize that you have likely heard from me more this school year than any other parent, and for that I apologize. I have maintained the confidence that you realized that I was motivated not by a desire to cause trouble for you or for Mrs. Teacher, but by my own standards of excellence for education, expectations of St. Parish School, and desire for an educational environment conducive to my son's learning. Unfortunately, in all of these things I have been disappointed. In fact, the area in which I have had satisfaction with St. Parish School was your attentiveness to my concerns, whether or not they were able to be resolved through the means you had available. I'm sure you realized long before now, and suspected earlier, that we will not be returning to St. Parish School next year. I do believe that had you entertained my request to switch Student to Mr. Other Teacher's class at the beginning of the year, our overall experience would have been better. However, it is too late to change that at this point.
At this point, there are too many things for me to enumerate as I sit and reflect on the frustrations of the past school year. I have such low regard for Mrs. Teacher as a teacher, from her time management, which caused her class to be behind Mr. Other Teacher's from the beginning and caused the many tests on Mondays when the class had not covered the material in time to have a test on Thursday or Friday, to her manner with the students, who are frequently belittled and almost never given a straight, honest answer to a straight, honest question, to her conversational skills, which cause her to talk louder than, faster than, and over any adult with whom she is attempting to have a discussion--I can only imagine how the children must fare--to her refusal to respond in full to parental questions and concerns, or refusal to take them as questions without feeling that she is being personally attacked. I have also mentioned her bad attitude toward taking the children to Confession.
All year, I have refrained from telling you about how every time I asked a question of Mrs. Teacher, Student was harassed in class. I was frequently asking for clarification of the assignments--many of which did not have instructions printed--so that I could understand the points deducted from work that otherwise looked well done to my eye. This is a consequence of sending papers home and actually having parents who are interested in looking at them and understanding what is being required of their children. I have the impression that this is not common at St. Parish School. When I ask a question, however, Mrs. Teacher, rather than answering me directly, asks Student what I wanted to know, demands if he understands what he did wrong, and otherwise browbeats him over the content of the assignment--which was never my intention. In one case, this resulted in Student's receiving a 50 on an Enrichment project, since, instead of forwarding my request for information to Mrs. Special Teacher, they had a verbal discussion about it, Mrs. Teacher asked Student why he didn't know this or what I wanted to know about the assignment, and never communicated directly to me about the issue. All she had to do was give me Mrs. Special Teacher's email address, which was not on the St. Parish School web page. Instead, Mrs. Special Teacher insinuated that Student had been rude to her, and I punished him only to find out that Mrs. Special Teacher was being grossly hyperbolic. This kind of communication breakdown should never occur. I asked a simple question, as I did many times this year. Instead of getting a simple answer, my son was called up and questioned, when he was not privy to my concerns.
This occurred once again on Wednesday of this week. I asked about a math assignment which, according to the directions on the worksheet, Student completed correctly. In response to my questions, Mrs. Teacher said that she added to the instructions, telling the children to write the words "line segment," etc. Now, Mrs. Teacher is the type of person whom I can see any person--even an adult--misunderstanding because she speaks so rapidly and superfluously. In addition, when the children seek clarification, she often refuses, telling them that they should have been listening the first time, or belittling them for not understanding how to do something, like a diorama, or answering, "Do we tuck in our shirts if we wear jeans with our uniform shirts on Tuesdays?" with "What do you think?" instead of a straight answer. Any child would become discouraged by this condescension and stop asking. Student completed the assignment according to the written directions, and received a 71 instead of the 90% he deserved. She refuses to answer whether his grade accurately reflects his understanding of the material, or if this is simply to teach him some kind of lesson. Even according to her directions she should award an additional 2 1/2 points, giving half-credit for 5 of his correct answers that were marked incorrect and raising his grade to a 77%, though I still do not think that this is representative of his mastery of the material. I believe that her refusal to address this issue further is intended to silence me and punish him for my questioning, or to hurt his feeling to such an extent that he will not confide in his parents. My feelings are justified by today's insult.
Today, when asking Mrs. Teacher today about his AR (Accelerated Reader) level and point goal being lowered and asking to exchange a book, Mrs. Teacher responded to him, adding, "Unless you want to complain to Dr. Principal about it." Now, Student has never, to my knowledge, complained to you about anything. Can you tell me, then, the purpose of this comment? In case you suspect him, Student could never invent such a comment. It is beyond anything he could have conceived. This is on top of being told when received 100% on a science, "See what happens when you study?" Clearly he is being singled out because of my questioning. No child should be subjected to this treatment.
I do not expect anything I have said to make any impact that will extend beyond my child's situation during this school year. I can't imagine that Mrs. Teacher's manner or methods will change in future years. Even if I could provide some kind of physical proof of my claims, I do not believe that she would be willing to confirm or correct these issues. Perhaps if every parent had the same issues, something might be done. This is not possible given the difference in involvement, knowledge of classroom events, belief in children's truthfulness, and standards of educational excellence among parents. One parent might protest that her child was ridiculed for bringing Easter treats for the class. Another might protest having her son excluded from a pizza party because he has severe difficulty in reading. Still another might protest having her son excluded from a pizza party because computer malfunctions prevented him from reaching his AR goal by 5 points. When the children are witness to these issues among their peers, they can only become demoralized. Children are resilient, but it is this kind of treatment that I wanted to avoid by keeping Student out of public schools for so long.
Failing any lasting impact on what I feel is a grievous fault in the school, I want to know what can be done THIS year--for US. If Mrs. Teacher is confronted, Student will suffer, and nothing will be resolved. If I could keep Student home without penalty for the remainder of the school year--and be reimbursed for tuition--I would do so. However, I feel that he would benefit from the next six weeks' material. I assure you that I am as tired of questioning and protesting as you are of hearing my questions and protests. But I am literally, as I said in my subject line, at wits' end. I can not even suggest a resolution. I appeal to you, as the principal, to suggests possibilities for resolution. I do not want to confront Mrs. Teacher or be confronted by her. I do not want to have her put the blame onto Student as she has done every time I have asked her a question. I want him removed from the situation. I just don't know how best to accomplish this at this point. I wish it would never have gotten this bad. I wish, instead, that this could have been averted by something other than a compromise of my ideals. As it is, I have compromised my ideals and we have been penalized anyway.
I do not feel that this is beyond the scope of your authority, and I wanted to consult you first since I believe you have truly tried to assist us this year. However, if you feel that this is beyond you, please let me know whom I should contact--whether Msgnr. School Pastor or Mr. System Head
I hope that you understand the seriousness of this matter, and I hope we can come to the resolution that will be best for Student.
Thank you for your patient attention to this email.
Sincerely,
Literacy-chic
I seriously need to go to Confession for all the things I have said and thought about Mrs. Teacher. My patience has been sorely tried, and I have not risen to the occasion. For reasons like the above, I envy you who home-school. I suppose this is why I am posting this as evidence to strengthen your resolve to home school. FYI--this is a 4th grade class situation that I am describing. *Sigh*
*I in no way support or endorse the AR (Accelerated Reader) Program. It is faulty beyond comparison.
I realize that you have likely heard from me more this school year than any other parent, and for that I apologize. I have maintained the confidence that you realized that I was motivated not by a desire to cause trouble for you or for Mrs. Teacher, but by my own standards of excellence for education, expectations of St. Parish School, and desire for an educational environment conducive to my son's learning. Unfortunately, in all of these things I have been disappointed. In fact, the area in which I have had satisfaction with St. Parish School was your attentiveness to my concerns, whether or not they were able to be resolved through the means you had available. I'm sure you realized long before now, and suspected earlier, that we will not be returning to St. Parish School next year. I do believe that had you entertained my request to switch Student to Mr. Other Teacher's class at the beginning of the year, our overall experience would have been better. However, it is too late to change that at this point.
At this point, there are too many things for me to enumerate as I sit and reflect on the frustrations of the past school year. I have such low regard for Mrs. Teacher as a teacher, from her time management, which caused her class to be behind Mr. Other Teacher's from the beginning and caused the many tests on Mondays when the class had not covered the material in time to have a test on Thursday or Friday, to her manner with the students, who are frequently belittled and almost never given a straight, honest answer to a straight, honest question, to her conversational skills, which cause her to talk louder than, faster than, and over any adult with whom she is attempting to have a discussion--I can only imagine how the children must fare--to her refusal to respond in full to parental questions and concerns, or refusal to take them as questions without feeling that she is being personally attacked. I have also mentioned her bad attitude toward taking the children to Confession.
All year, I have refrained from telling you about how every time I asked a question of Mrs. Teacher, Student was harassed in class. I was frequently asking for clarification of the assignments--many of which did not have instructions printed--so that I could understand the points deducted from work that otherwise looked well done to my eye. This is a consequence of sending papers home and actually having parents who are interested in looking at them and understanding what is being required of their children. I have the impression that this is not common at St. Parish School. When I ask a question, however, Mrs. Teacher, rather than answering me directly, asks Student what I wanted to know, demands if he understands what he did wrong, and otherwise browbeats him over the content of the assignment--which was never my intention. In one case, this resulted in Student's receiving a 50 on an Enrichment project, since, instead of forwarding my request for information to Mrs. Special Teacher, they had a verbal discussion about it, Mrs. Teacher asked Student why he didn't know this or what I wanted to know about the assignment, and never communicated directly to me about the issue. All she had to do was give me Mrs. Special Teacher's email address, which was not on the St. Parish School web page. Instead, Mrs. Special Teacher insinuated that Student had been rude to her, and I punished him only to find out that Mrs. Special Teacher was being grossly hyperbolic. This kind of communication breakdown should never occur. I asked a simple question, as I did many times this year. Instead of getting a simple answer, my son was called up and questioned, when he was not privy to my concerns.
This occurred once again on Wednesday of this week. I asked about a math assignment which, according to the directions on the worksheet, Student completed correctly. In response to my questions, Mrs. Teacher said that she added to the instructions, telling the children to write the words "line segment," etc. Now, Mrs. Teacher is the type of person whom I can see any person--even an adult--misunderstanding because she speaks so rapidly and superfluously. In addition, when the children seek clarification, she often refuses, telling them that they should have been listening the first time, or belittling them for not understanding how to do something, like a diorama, or answering, "Do we tuck in our shirts if we wear jeans with our uniform shirts on Tuesdays?" with "What do you think?" instead of a straight answer. Any child would become discouraged by this condescension and stop asking. Student completed the assignment according to the written directions, and received a 71 instead of the 90% he deserved. She refuses to answer whether his grade accurately reflects his understanding of the material, or if this is simply to teach him some kind of lesson. Even according to her directions she should award an additional 2 1/2 points, giving half-credit for 5 of his correct answers that were marked incorrect and raising his grade to a 77%, though I still do not think that this is representative of his mastery of the material. I believe that her refusal to address this issue further is intended to silence me and punish him for my questioning, or to hurt his feeling to such an extent that he will not confide in his parents. My feelings are justified by today's insult.
Today, when asking Mrs. Teacher today about his AR (Accelerated Reader) level and point goal being lowered and asking to exchange a book, Mrs. Teacher responded to him, adding, "Unless you want to complain to Dr. Principal about it." Now, Student has never, to my knowledge, complained to you about anything. Can you tell me, then, the purpose of this comment? In case you suspect him, Student could never invent such a comment. It is beyond anything he could have conceived. This is on top of being told when received 100% on a science, "See what happens when you study?" Clearly he is being singled out because of my questioning. No child should be subjected to this treatment.
I do not expect anything I have said to make any impact that will extend beyond my child's situation during this school year. I can't imagine that Mrs. Teacher's manner or methods will change in future years. Even if I could provide some kind of physical proof of my claims, I do not believe that she would be willing to confirm or correct these issues. Perhaps if every parent had the same issues, something might be done. This is not possible given the difference in involvement, knowledge of classroom events, belief in children's truthfulness, and standards of educational excellence among parents. One parent might protest that her child was ridiculed for bringing Easter treats for the class. Another might protest having her son excluded from a pizza party because he has severe difficulty in reading. Still another might protest having her son excluded from a pizza party because computer malfunctions prevented him from reaching his AR goal by 5 points. When the children are witness to these issues among their peers, they can only become demoralized. Children are resilient, but it is this kind of treatment that I wanted to avoid by keeping Student out of public schools for so long.
Failing any lasting impact on what I feel is a grievous fault in the school, I want to know what can be done THIS year--for US. If Mrs. Teacher is confronted, Student will suffer, and nothing will be resolved. If I could keep Student home without penalty for the remainder of the school year--and be reimbursed for tuition--I would do so. However, I feel that he would benefit from the next six weeks' material. I assure you that I am as tired of questioning and protesting as you are of hearing my questions and protests. But I am literally, as I said in my subject line, at wits' end. I can not even suggest a resolution. I appeal to you, as the principal, to suggests possibilities for resolution. I do not want to confront Mrs. Teacher or be confronted by her. I do not want to have her put the blame onto Student as she has done every time I have asked her a question. I want him removed from the situation. I just don't know how best to accomplish this at this point. I wish it would never have gotten this bad. I wish, instead, that this could have been averted by something other than a compromise of my ideals. As it is, I have compromised my ideals and we have been penalized anyway.
I do not feel that this is beyond the scope of your authority, and I wanted to consult you first since I believe you have truly tried to assist us this year. However, if you feel that this is beyond you, please let me know whom I should contact--whether Msgnr. School Pastor or Mr. System Head
I hope that you understand the seriousness of this matter, and I hope we can come to the resolution that will be best for Student.
Thank you for your patient attention to this email.
Sincerely,
Literacy-chic
I seriously need to go to Confession for all the things I have said and thought about Mrs. Teacher. My patience has been sorely tried, and I have not risen to the occasion. For reasons like the above, I envy you who home-school. I suppose this is why I am posting this as evidence to strengthen your resolve to home school. FYI--this is a 4th grade class situation that I am describing. *Sigh*
*I in no way support or endorse the AR (Accelerated Reader) Program. It is faulty beyond comparison.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Church Fathers Quiz
This is oddly appropriate. . .
The site further says to check out Tertullian: Treatises on Marriage and Remarriage: To His Wife, An Exhortation to Chastity, Monogamy for more information on Tertullian.
An interesting note: when I redid the quiz, changing the answers to the ones I almost chose the first time, I got St. Jerome, who happens to be my confirmation saint! (Because he's crotchety and holy!)
You’re Tertullian! You possess many gifts, but patience isn’t one of them. You’re tough on yourself — and on others. You’re independent, too, and you don’t like to be told what to do. You wish the Church would be a little tighter in discipline. As for the pagans, you’ve pretty much written them off. Sometimes you think the Church would be a better place if you were in charge. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers! |
An interesting note: when I redid the quiz, changing the answers to the ones I almost chose the first time, I got St. Jerome, who happens to be my confirmation saint! (Because he's crotchety and holy!)
Some Easter Thoughts
Fellow-blogger Jen of "Et tu, Jen?" has chronicled her Lenten journey toward entering the Catholic Church this Easter. I have been pondering Easter- and Triduum-posts over the past several days, but did not know quite where to begin or what to say. But here's a bit of a remembrance. . .
When I entered the Church, it was on Halloween, not Easter (oddly enough)--I was Confirmed with a college Confirmation class and Baptized by the Bishop just before the Confirmation. But the rites involving the Elect always make me teary, remembering, and Easter was when I first knew with certainty that I not only desired with all of my heart to become Catholic, but that I would be Catholic in time.
It is interesting, perhaps, to note at this point that the Lent after I became Catholic and we had our marriage blessed, I was pregnant (no coincidence, there! It finally seemed "time" to have another baby). The following Lent, I was breastfeeding. This Lent, I was pregnant! Basically, what this means is no fasting! Actually, I did fast on Ash Wednesday, but I found it very difficult--both to muster up the will to fast and to physically maintain the strength. I found out a few days later why it was so difficult! So Lent for me opened on a rather un-spiritual note. I believe the spiritual aspects of Lent kicked in for me a few weeks before Easter, when Fr. Michael called up the RCIA candidates and sponsors and had the congregation kneel during the petitions and a laying on of hands (not necessarily in that order). I couldn't help thinking of this experience when reading Jen's blog. A friend informs me that it was likely one of the Scrutinies, and indeed, my husband noted that it had a very ancient "feel." From the time the Catechumens came forward until when we rose, I found myself crying. . . and I can't just relegate it to pregnancy hormones! :) Nothing like that has happened to me in years. I am very grateful for those moments.
The services leading up to Easter are my favorites of the liturgical year. The Holy Thursday mass, for me, is the most special and significant, celebrating as it does the institution of the Eucharist. Since my son had already been to mass at school that morning, my husband & I asked my mother to stay with my son & daughter (our first "date" this year, and we went to mass!) and went to the mass alone. This year, there was more emphasis on the washing of the feet than on the institution of the Eucharist, which led to a homily about service, in which Father revealed that he was ordained on the day of the Live Aid concert. It was incredible to hear him speak of his experience, and even more incredible to hear this slightly severe English-educated Irish priest choke a little on his words--a bit during the homily, but again when accepting the oils that had been blessed at the Chrism Mass earlier in the week. The foot-washing was done among the congregation, which meant that those seated around the chosen felt an acute sense of awkwardness--as it should be, I believe. And for anyone who follows these things, the priests of this parish washed the feet of men and women, emphasizing the common role of service of all of the baptized rather than the strict theological interpretation favored by some that sees in the washing of the feet the institution of the priesthood among the disciples. There is value in both interpretations, but it seems that if the latter interpretation were played out in the mass, only the feet of the ordained should be washed. After a long, beautiful mass, we rather guiltily snuck out of the adoration--the "watching with" Jesus present in the Eucharist to rejoin our little ones, the smallest of whom was missing her momma.
Holy Thursday always reminds me of a poem by Alfred de Vigny that I translated when I was an undergrad: "Le Mont des Oliviers": Then it was night, and Jesus walked alone/ Clothed in white, like one who is already dead/ the disciples slept at the feet of the hill,/ Towards the olives, a sinister wind blew. . . A few lines later: He fell to his knees, his chest against the earth;/ Then looking at the sky, called, "Oh My Father!"/ -But the sky was black, and God did not respond. While this revels that the interpretation is not strictly Orthodox (what French poem is?), the sense of agony made a deep impression on me. Alas! So did the sense of futility communicated by the poem, but that is more complex, something that is still moving, though not because of its truth. It is a beautiful poem, and I always think of it at this time of year.
Good Friday, the whole family went to the 2-hour service, much to the consternation of the 18-month old! But, all things considered, she didn't do too badly. It was solemn and beautiful, though differently so, and the 10-year-old was a bit concerned about the adoration of the cross. I understand; I can't bring myself to kiss the cross. I confided to him that this is truly the weirdest thing that we do in the Church all year--but that it is a sign of respect and reverence. Surely, no one can deny that it is a bit weird. But I also let him know that whatever he was comfortable doing was fine. I came to realize that the color scheme of the church can influence one's perception of the service. The past 2 years, we have attended a church with a white interior. When shadows fall, they are cold and grey. The church we have been attending is brown and warm--my friend has said, like a hunting lodge. When it is dark, therefore, it still retains the warmth of the wood and brick in the shadows. On Good Friday, the cold and grey is more effective.
Our pastor (I haven't officially changed our affiliation, but we will) was trying, on Palm Sunday, to induce everyone to attend the entire Triduum, in which he was remarkably successful, given the attendance on Thursday and Friday. But no one can tell me that the correct thing to do with a family is to attend the Easter Vigil. We attended twice; once to see a friend confirmed, but the Baptisms were brief. The second time, 40-something were Baptized, and my son, who was old enough not to squirm, fell asleep. My husband and I were asked to do a reading during the Vigil after I entered the Church, which is why we were there. Admittedly, it was beautiful, but I have come to realize that the Easter Vigil is not really part of the cultural celebration of Easter. This may not be a valid argument for some, but when you consider that the RCIA program was not even in place until relatively recently, the Vigil only recently recovered the significance that it holds in the Church today. This weekend, I had particular pity for those who were to have a full-immersion baptism in the frigid rear section of the church, particularly the one we attended last year and the years before, on a 40-ish degree day with sleet and rain. It must've been chilly.
There is something about the light streaming onto the altar on Easter Sunday that holds a special significance for me--it imparts the joy of Easter. I prefer last years' gospel in which Mary Magdalen discovers the empty tomb and Jesus, whom she "supposed to be the gardener." This line, too, takes on special significance because of literature, in this case, 'The Gardener" by Kipling. But of course, Easter is always beautiful.
I missed hearing this year the gospel devoted to the "good thief." But he was mentioned, and this is always a special passage for me.
In all of this, pregnancy has presented some special challenges. I already mentioned the inability to fast. This also extended to an inability to abstain from meat, which, yes, is allowed. I have seen some holier-than-though male bloggers confidently declare that while a pregnant woman can certainly forgo fasting, that there can be no reason for her not to abstain from meat on Fridays, since there are so many other forms of protein. I only hope the woman who asked the question does not hold herself to such a standard. Her pastor will tell her otherwise. And I wish that the person who made the declaration could experience morning sickness--or the milder facsimile that I experience, in which only certain foods will prevent the nausea. And this means that when you need chicken nuggets, a fish fillet will not suffice. I tried. And then there was the day that my little piece of toast with the cheese melted on top sat all day on the table with one bite taken out of it. Yes, it was protein. But it was clearly not the protein that my body wanted at that particular time. Meat has the advantage of being, in some forms, rather easy on the stomach compared to cheese, tofu, and certainly the quicker forms of fish, which generally involve grease. I haven't even had much of a taste for shrimp.
So this weekend, fasting before mass and then sitting through longer-than-usual-services was a challenge. Sunday was not a good day for it. I also believe that, having waited an interminably long time for incense in the mass, the particular blend of incense was not agreeable to my pregnant sense of smell. It was beautiful to inhale the smoke drifting towards us, but it settled in the space between and above my eyes for the entire mass, and carried into the day beyond the end of mass. I have never had problems with incense before, and I hope that this problem does not recur throughout the Easter season. I love incense.
So the family parts of Easter were a bit messed up by my headache and stomach-y issues, work schedules of my siblings, and the baby girl's nap schedule. But my son and brother (who is 12) had an egg hunt in my mother's house, and our potato salad and pork loin were excellent. On Saturday, my brother came to dye eggs with my son and I cooked a pot-roast, a rare event for me, since cooking meat intimidates me. And now my husband can have chocolate again, and coffee from Starbucks, which is real cause for celebration!
I seem to lack some pithy conclusion, or even a natural end like the end of a journey. I hope everyone's Easter was as blessed as mine has been, and that if your Lenten journey was difficult, as mine was, that there was cause for joy at its conclusion. I believe that I was my own offering for Lent, and that becoming used to this pregnancy was my task. My doubts will continue to surface over the next months, but I believe that the initial darkness passed--rather quickly, actually. Now, if the nausea would pass also. . .
When I entered the Church, it was on Halloween, not Easter (oddly enough)--I was Confirmed with a college Confirmation class and Baptized by the Bishop just before the Confirmation. But the rites involving the Elect always make me teary, remembering, and Easter was when I first knew with certainty that I not only desired with all of my heart to become Catholic, but that I would be Catholic in time.
It is interesting, perhaps, to note at this point that the Lent after I became Catholic and we had our marriage blessed, I was pregnant (no coincidence, there! It finally seemed "time" to have another baby). The following Lent, I was breastfeeding. This Lent, I was pregnant! Basically, what this means is no fasting! Actually, I did fast on Ash Wednesday, but I found it very difficult--both to muster up the will to fast and to physically maintain the strength. I found out a few days later why it was so difficult! So Lent for me opened on a rather un-spiritual note. I believe the spiritual aspects of Lent kicked in for me a few weeks before Easter, when Fr. Michael called up the RCIA candidates and sponsors and had the congregation kneel during the petitions and a laying on of hands (not necessarily in that order). I couldn't help thinking of this experience when reading Jen's blog. A friend informs me that it was likely one of the Scrutinies, and indeed, my husband noted that it had a very ancient "feel." From the time the Catechumens came forward until when we rose, I found myself crying. . . and I can't just relegate it to pregnancy hormones! :) Nothing like that has happened to me in years. I am very grateful for those moments.
The services leading up to Easter are my favorites of the liturgical year. The Holy Thursday mass, for me, is the most special and significant, celebrating as it does the institution of the Eucharist. Since my son had already been to mass at school that morning, my husband & I asked my mother to stay with my son & daughter (our first "date" this year, and we went to mass!) and went to the mass alone. This year, there was more emphasis on the washing of the feet than on the institution of the Eucharist, which led to a homily about service, in which Father revealed that he was ordained on the day of the Live Aid concert. It was incredible to hear him speak of his experience, and even more incredible to hear this slightly severe English-educated Irish priest choke a little on his words--a bit during the homily, but again when accepting the oils that had been blessed at the Chrism Mass earlier in the week. The foot-washing was done among the congregation, which meant that those seated around the chosen felt an acute sense of awkwardness--as it should be, I believe. And for anyone who follows these things, the priests of this parish washed the feet of men and women, emphasizing the common role of service of all of the baptized rather than the strict theological interpretation favored by some that sees in the washing of the feet the institution of the priesthood among the disciples. There is value in both interpretations, but it seems that if the latter interpretation were played out in the mass, only the feet of the ordained should be washed. After a long, beautiful mass, we rather guiltily snuck out of the adoration--the "watching with" Jesus present in the Eucharist to rejoin our little ones, the smallest of whom was missing her momma.
Holy Thursday always reminds me of a poem by Alfred de Vigny that I translated when I was an undergrad: "Le Mont des Oliviers": Then it was night, and Jesus walked alone/ Clothed in white, like one who is already dead/ the disciples slept at the feet of the hill,/ Towards the olives, a sinister wind blew. . . A few lines later: He fell to his knees, his chest against the earth;/ Then looking at the sky, called, "Oh My Father!"/ -But the sky was black, and God did not respond. While this revels that the interpretation is not strictly Orthodox (what French poem is?), the sense of agony made a deep impression on me. Alas! So did the sense of futility communicated by the poem, but that is more complex, something that is still moving, though not because of its truth. It is a beautiful poem, and I always think of it at this time of year.
Good Friday, the whole family went to the 2-hour service, much to the consternation of the 18-month old! But, all things considered, she didn't do too badly. It was solemn and beautiful, though differently so, and the 10-year-old was a bit concerned about the adoration of the cross. I understand; I can't bring myself to kiss the cross. I confided to him that this is truly the weirdest thing that we do in the Church all year--but that it is a sign of respect and reverence. Surely, no one can deny that it is a bit weird. But I also let him know that whatever he was comfortable doing was fine. I came to realize that the color scheme of the church can influence one's perception of the service. The past 2 years, we have attended a church with a white interior. When shadows fall, they are cold and grey. The church we have been attending is brown and warm--my friend has said, like a hunting lodge. When it is dark, therefore, it still retains the warmth of the wood and brick in the shadows. On Good Friday, the cold and grey is more effective.
Our pastor (I haven't officially changed our affiliation, but we will) was trying, on Palm Sunday, to induce everyone to attend the entire Triduum, in which he was remarkably successful, given the attendance on Thursday and Friday. But no one can tell me that the correct thing to do with a family is to attend the Easter Vigil. We attended twice; once to see a friend confirmed, but the Baptisms were brief. The second time, 40-something were Baptized, and my son, who was old enough not to squirm, fell asleep. My husband and I were asked to do a reading during the Vigil after I entered the Church, which is why we were there. Admittedly, it was beautiful, but I have come to realize that the Easter Vigil is not really part of the cultural celebration of Easter. This may not be a valid argument for some, but when you consider that the RCIA program was not even in place until relatively recently, the Vigil only recently recovered the significance that it holds in the Church today. This weekend, I had particular pity for those who were to have a full-immersion baptism in the frigid rear section of the church, particularly the one we attended last year and the years before, on a 40-ish degree day with sleet and rain. It must've been chilly.
There is something about the light streaming onto the altar on Easter Sunday that holds a special significance for me--it imparts the joy of Easter. I prefer last years' gospel in which Mary Magdalen discovers the empty tomb and Jesus, whom she "supposed to be the gardener." This line, too, takes on special significance because of literature, in this case, 'The Gardener" by Kipling. But of course, Easter is always beautiful.
I missed hearing this year the gospel devoted to the "good thief." But he was mentioned, and this is always a special passage for me.
In all of this, pregnancy has presented some special challenges. I already mentioned the inability to fast. This also extended to an inability to abstain from meat, which, yes, is allowed. I have seen some holier-than-though male bloggers confidently declare that while a pregnant woman can certainly forgo fasting, that there can be no reason for her not to abstain from meat on Fridays, since there are so many other forms of protein. I only hope the woman who asked the question does not hold herself to such a standard. Her pastor will tell her otherwise. And I wish that the person who made the declaration could experience morning sickness--or the milder facsimile that I experience, in which only certain foods will prevent the nausea. And this means that when you need chicken nuggets, a fish fillet will not suffice. I tried. And then there was the day that my little piece of toast with the cheese melted on top sat all day on the table with one bite taken out of it. Yes, it was protein. But it was clearly not the protein that my body wanted at that particular time. Meat has the advantage of being, in some forms, rather easy on the stomach compared to cheese, tofu, and certainly the quicker forms of fish, which generally involve grease. I haven't even had much of a taste for shrimp.
So this weekend, fasting before mass and then sitting through longer-than-usual-services was a challenge. Sunday was not a good day for it. I also believe that, having waited an interminably long time for incense in the mass, the particular blend of incense was not agreeable to my pregnant sense of smell. It was beautiful to inhale the smoke drifting towards us, but it settled in the space between and above my eyes for the entire mass, and carried into the day beyond the end of mass. I have never had problems with incense before, and I hope that this problem does not recur throughout the Easter season. I love incense.
So the family parts of Easter were a bit messed up by my headache and stomach-y issues, work schedules of my siblings, and the baby girl's nap schedule. But my son and brother (who is 12) had an egg hunt in my mother's house, and our potato salad and pork loin were excellent. On Saturday, my brother came to dye eggs with my son and I cooked a pot-roast, a rare event for me, since cooking meat intimidates me. And now my husband can have chocolate again, and coffee from Starbucks, which is real cause for celebration!
I seem to lack some pithy conclusion, or even a natural end like the end of a journey. I hope everyone's Easter was as blessed as mine has been, and that if your Lenten journey was difficult, as mine was, that there was cause for joy at its conclusion. I believe that I was my own offering for Lent, and that becoming used to this pregnancy was my task. My doubts will continue to surface over the next months, but I believe that the initial darkness passed--rather quickly, actually. Now, if the nausea would pass also. . .
Sunday, April 1, 2007
The Ugly Green Monster, or Being content with your own challenges
It is always difficult comparing oneself to others. It is perhaps more difficult not to compare oneself to others. The tendency is one that every parent (every parent, that is, who does not encourage such comparisons) combats as soon as his/her child enters school. "Tommy is 3 pages ahead of me in math!" "Jimmy read 3 books and I'm only on my second!" "Caleb and Cody run faster, and Ruben is a better soccer player!" But in all reality, I think most adults are equally guilty of comparing themselves to others, and that the result of such comparisons is the inevitable envy of others' situations. It is a struggle to remember, at times, that our situations are frequently the results of our own different goals and choices, and that others' challenges may be more difficult than ours, even if their circumstances seem better in one way or another.
This is something I have struggled with ever since coming to Texas. The standards by which native Texans judge life--especially the financial aspects of life--are radically different from how I understood things growing up in New Orleans. Graduate students still being supported by their parents and grandparents provided my first great shock, but I think this difference really gelled for me when a friend's husband remarked that he didn't think they were yuppies yet, but that he hoped to be so one day. To me, the term "yuppie" represented something like Matthew Arnold's use of the term "Philistine" in Culture and Anarchy, or the term bourgeois to societies that value aristocratic culture. To him, "yuppie" represented a standard of income and comfort to which he aspired. As I remarked to a student the other day when we were discussing graduate school and income, specifically, the idea that some B.A. degrees have a greater payout than many graduate degrees, it definitely depends on your perspective whether a graduate degree is "worth it." My family already earns more than my family's income when I was growing up (inflation notwithstanding), and my mother had 6 children. I am only on #3.
Though I have stopped panicking about the financial aspect of this pregnancy, having found that my insurance will probably only require us to pay about $600 for every aspect of this pregnancy and delivery, it will not be easy on us to have #3 at this stage. We just decided that we could afford #2, when we were confronted with the choice, shortly after her birth: reconcile with the USDEd or be garnished. (Forbearances fell through the cracks.) We considered ourselves to be doing pretty well, comparatively. We were better off financially than we ever had been since marriage. My husband's job was more stable (since he gave up the teaching that he enjoyed) and he was guaranteed a paycheck 12 months of the year (which I am not). So I was shocked when a friend of mine, newly married herself, devoutly Catholic, a great advocate of NFP who considered me an NFP "success" when I became pregnant shortly after becoming Catholic, presented me with a couple of shopping bags of baby "gifts"--chosen from the crisis pregnancy center where her Dad worked. Was I to be a charity recipient? I in no way felt like I was the person for whom those goods were intended. I was married, my pregnancy was "planned". . . I could only assume that she either believed that my daughter was an NFP success because I was "open to," but not necessarily trying to achieve, pregnancy, or that we were too poor to be able to afford another baby. Either impression was disturbing.
Inevitably, when one is close friends with people, particularly, it seems, with couples, one becomes acquainted with their financial situations. In the case of this friend and her now-husband, I know that they planned meticulously (albeit quickly) for marriage by taking stock of their various resources, considering their compatibility and God's will--things that it would not have occurred to me to do, and which, if considered carefully, would have contraindicated marriage because of our financial situations at the time. So we came to realize that these newlyweds, who did not have children and did not have to pay rent because of an arrangement with the homeowner, made roughly twice our income. Other friends exceeded our income by something like three times, but did not feel financially secure enough to have a family, in spite of their significant lack of debt. We have always struggled. It may have been wrong to compare ourselves to others who did not choose graduate school, or who did not finish or work continuously towards the degree the way I have. But the comparison was inevitable, and the seeming unfairness of the situation preyed on my mind. It also puts one at a disadvantage in a friendship to feel as though, if your friends can't afford a child at $100K, how can they respect your decision to have a second at $40K?
I have discussed elsewhere the dilemma of helping relatives who need financial assistance after being displaced by Hurricane Katrina. We pay for two cars, but only have use of one.
Things will not be easy, and I am still over a year away from the possibility of a tenure-track job, though all the instruments we have agree that motherhood decreases a woman's chance of achieving tenure, either because of her own decisions in the matter or others' prejudices. Fatherhood, by contrast, according to an article I can no longer find, increases the man's chance of advancing in academia, providing his fatherhood is a subtle aspect of his persona. My husband had to abandon the possibility Ph.D. a while back, in support of my own Ph.D. (though perhaps not permanently). So I'm pretty much our hope for any increase in income. Later, not now.
And here I am, working on #3.
The question occurs to me, once again. . . What is the role of Divine Intervention in financial matters? There are many whose blogs I have read, notably Jen at Et tu, Jen?, as well as commentors on a previous post of mine, who believe explicitly and implicitly that God does provide materially and in tangibly noticeable, even dramatic, ways. I have always experienced it as a slow inching, by degrees, to a slightly more preferable state, followed by a number of setbacks like a seized tax return after loan consolidation paperwork fell through, or sabotage by graduate coordinator of the Ph.D. program that my husband would have graduated from by now, or the sabotage of a willful department head who could not see why someone with a family and an excellent teaching record deserves to teach, and be paid for, the full-load of 4 classes instead of 1.
If I accept my own view of things, that God does not directly intervene in financial matters, but provides for our needs in other ways, I can not account for others' financial-relief-though-prayer stories. However, if I accept others' faith in God's provision for our material needs--in some cases, wants--I am faced with the dilemma not of why my needs are not met, but why others, in worse situations than mine, do not have the benefit of divine intervention. As for myself, I have either to conclude that I lack constancy in prayer and faith in this particular area of God's mercy, or that my situation is not bad enough to merit Divine Intervention, which I can accept, but I know that there are more pious people than I who are very, very desperately poor.
This was not intended to be a post primarily about finances, however, but about envy, comparing oneself to others, and finally preferring one's own challenges.
There are many other occasions that arise that encourage one to compare oneself to others. Mothers everywhere discuss childbirth experiences, early feeding issues, jaundice. . . I have twice had friends less experienced than I with breastfeeding spared the agony I faced with a child who would not wake up to nurse--who lost a pound of her birthweight while I waited for my milk to arrive. Whose doctors did not have to push formula, and who did not make them feel deficient. Baby and I survived these trials, and more. And it is difficult to see others breeze through. . . Except that one of my friends had to travel 3 hours in the days after her son was born to spend time with her father in his last days. She found that she was pregnant about the time that he learned that he had cancer, and had little if any hope of it being cured. So her unplanned pregnancy resulted in her father being able to see his new grandchild before he died. What a gift! And had she had to struggle with my new baby struggles, her ability to find time for her father would have been compromised. My other friend who has wonderfully had unparalleled success with breastfeeding almost lost her baby due to complications, endured an emergency C-section, and had a terribly emotionally taxing pregnancy even before the onset of health concerns for the baby. Her positive breastfeeding experience has allowed her a measure of comfort in all of this. It is impossible to feel actual envy in the face of these circumstances, and it helps to be able to recognize that our difficulties are our own, unique to us, given to us with a recognition of what we are capable of handling, and from what we will benefit most in our particular circumstances.
Since finding I was pregnant, I have found more blogs discussing--often in grim detail--the emotional and physical pain of miscarriage than I ever suspected existed. I already knew of 3 fellow-graduate students who suffered miscarriages since I was pregnant with my daughter. This is not healthy reading for someone in her 9th week of pregnancy, but it does make it clear to me that my feelings about this baby--and this pregnancy--are not ambiguous. I did not expect that they would be, but being confronted with it concretely is a blessing of sorts. In the midst of my sadness and sympathy for others, I realize that I prefer my own challenges, and pray that I will not have to face what they have bravely endured.
Similarly, the financial burdens I have are ones to which I am fairly accustomed at this point. They weigh me down. They are ugly. They seem inescapable--and may well be. But they are my own challenges. I have a wonderful, supportive husband who understands me and does not demean me or my experiences in any way. We both value much in life above money, and we will hopefully teach our children this attitude. Likely we are not as generous as we could be, but since we both returned to the Church, this has been improving. It is difficult to be generous when one's mind is focused on one's own financial troubles! We love one another and our children. We will accept this new life with excitement. We have goals that are non-financial that may be within reach! So at the end of the day, the comparisons between our life and the lives of our friends do not hold up. We are living as we have chosen to live in many ways; we accept our own challenges and are satisfied.
ADDENDUM--Here is the source for my comments about academic motherhood and fatherhood, above, from The New Republic's Open University blog feature. Evidently the same search term yielded this result and one of my posts! It never ceases to amaze me how the web works. . .
This is something I have struggled with ever since coming to Texas. The standards by which native Texans judge life--especially the financial aspects of life--are radically different from how I understood things growing up in New Orleans. Graduate students still being supported by their parents and grandparents provided my first great shock, but I think this difference really gelled for me when a friend's husband remarked that he didn't think they were yuppies yet, but that he hoped to be so one day. To me, the term "yuppie" represented something like Matthew Arnold's use of the term "Philistine" in Culture and Anarchy, or the term bourgeois to societies that value aristocratic culture. To him, "yuppie" represented a standard of income and comfort to which he aspired. As I remarked to a student the other day when we were discussing graduate school and income, specifically, the idea that some B.A. degrees have a greater payout than many graduate degrees, it definitely depends on your perspective whether a graduate degree is "worth it." My family already earns more than my family's income when I was growing up (inflation notwithstanding), and my mother had 6 children. I am only on #3.
Though I have stopped panicking about the financial aspect of this pregnancy, having found that my insurance will probably only require us to pay about $600 for every aspect of this pregnancy and delivery, it will not be easy on us to have #3 at this stage. We just decided that we could afford #2, when we were confronted with the choice, shortly after her birth: reconcile with the USDEd or be garnished. (Forbearances fell through the cracks.) We considered ourselves to be doing pretty well, comparatively. We were better off financially than we ever had been since marriage. My husband's job was more stable (since he gave up the teaching that he enjoyed) and he was guaranteed a paycheck 12 months of the year (which I am not). So I was shocked when a friend of mine, newly married herself, devoutly Catholic, a great advocate of NFP who considered me an NFP "success" when I became pregnant shortly after becoming Catholic, presented me with a couple of shopping bags of baby "gifts"--chosen from the crisis pregnancy center where her Dad worked. Was I to be a charity recipient? I in no way felt like I was the person for whom those goods were intended. I was married, my pregnancy was "planned". . . I could only assume that she either believed that my daughter was an NFP success because I was "open to," but not necessarily trying to achieve, pregnancy, or that we were too poor to be able to afford another baby. Either impression was disturbing.
Inevitably, when one is close friends with people, particularly, it seems, with couples, one becomes acquainted with their financial situations. In the case of this friend and her now-husband, I know that they planned meticulously (albeit quickly) for marriage by taking stock of their various resources, considering their compatibility and God's will--things that it would not have occurred to me to do, and which, if considered carefully, would have contraindicated marriage because of our financial situations at the time. So we came to realize that these newlyweds, who did not have children and did not have to pay rent because of an arrangement with the homeowner, made roughly twice our income. Other friends exceeded our income by something like three times, but did not feel financially secure enough to have a family, in spite of their significant lack of debt. We have always struggled. It may have been wrong to compare ourselves to others who did not choose graduate school, or who did not finish or work continuously towards the degree the way I have. But the comparison was inevitable, and the seeming unfairness of the situation preyed on my mind. It also puts one at a disadvantage in a friendship to feel as though, if your friends can't afford a child at $100K, how can they respect your decision to have a second at $40K?
I have discussed elsewhere the dilemma of helping relatives who need financial assistance after being displaced by Hurricane Katrina. We pay for two cars, but only have use of one.
Things will not be easy, and I am still over a year away from the possibility of a tenure-track job, though all the instruments we have agree that motherhood decreases a woman's chance of achieving tenure, either because of her own decisions in the matter or others' prejudices. Fatherhood, by contrast, according to an article I can no longer find, increases the man's chance of advancing in academia, providing his fatherhood is a subtle aspect of his persona. My husband had to abandon the possibility Ph.D. a while back, in support of my own Ph.D. (though perhaps not permanently). So I'm pretty much our hope for any increase in income. Later, not now.
And here I am, working on #3.
The question occurs to me, once again. . . What is the role of Divine Intervention in financial matters? There are many whose blogs I have read, notably Jen at Et tu, Jen?, as well as commentors on a previous post of mine, who believe explicitly and implicitly that God does provide materially and in tangibly noticeable, even dramatic, ways. I have always experienced it as a slow inching, by degrees, to a slightly more preferable state, followed by a number of setbacks like a seized tax return after loan consolidation paperwork fell through, or sabotage by graduate coordinator of the Ph.D. program that my husband would have graduated from by now, or the sabotage of a willful department head who could not see why someone with a family and an excellent teaching record deserves to teach, and be paid for, the full-load of 4 classes instead of 1.
If I accept my own view of things, that God does not directly intervene in financial matters, but provides for our needs in other ways, I can not account for others' financial-relief-though-prayer stories. However, if I accept others' faith in God's provision for our material needs--in some cases, wants--I am faced with the dilemma not of why my needs are not met, but why others, in worse situations than mine, do not have the benefit of divine intervention. As for myself, I have either to conclude that I lack constancy in prayer and faith in this particular area of God's mercy, or that my situation is not bad enough to merit Divine Intervention, which I can accept, but I know that there are more pious people than I who are very, very desperately poor.
This was not intended to be a post primarily about finances, however, but about envy, comparing oneself to others, and finally preferring one's own challenges.
There are many other occasions that arise that encourage one to compare oneself to others. Mothers everywhere discuss childbirth experiences, early feeding issues, jaundice. . . I have twice had friends less experienced than I with breastfeeding spared the agony I faced with a child who would not wake up to nurse--who lost a pound of her birthweight while I waited for my milk to arrive. Whose doctors did not have to push formula, and who did not make them feel deficient. Baby and I survived these trials, and more. And it is difficult to see others breeze through. . . Except that one of my friends had to travel 3 hours in the days after her son was born to spend time with her father in his last days. She found that she was pregnant about the time that he learned that he had cancer, and had little if any hope of it being cured. So her unplanned pregnancy resulted in her father being able to see his new grandchild before he died. What a gift! And had she had to struggle with my new baby struggles, her ability to find time for her father would have been compromised. My other friend who has wonderfully had unparalleled success with breastfeeding almost lost her baby due to complications, endured an emergency C-section, and had a terribly emotionally taxing pregnancy even before the onset of health concerns for the baby. Her positive breastfeeding experience has allowed her a measure of comfort in all of this. It is impossible to feel actual envy in the face of these circumstances, and it helps to be able to recognize that our difficulties are our own, unique to us, given to us with a recognition of what we are capable of handling, and from what we will benefit most in our particular circumstances.
Since finding I was pregnant, I have found more blogs discussing--often in grim detail--the emotional and physical pain of miscarriage than I ever suspected existed. I already knew of 3 fellow-graduate students who suffered miscarriages since I was pregnant with my daughter. This is not healthy reading for someone in her 9th week of pregnancy, but it does make it clear to me that my feelings about this baby--and this pregnancy--are not ambiguous. I did not expect that they would be, but being confronted with it concretely is a blessing of sorts. In the midst of my sadness and sympathy for others, I realize that I prefer my own challenges, and pray that I will not have to face what they have bravely endured.
Similarly, the financial burdens I have are ones to which I am fairly accustomed at this point. They weigh me down. They are ugly. They seem inescapable--and may well be. But they are my own challenges. I have a wonderful, supportive husband who understands me and does not demean me or my experiences in any way. We both value much in life above money, and we will hopefully teach our children this attitude. Likely we are not as generous as we could be, but since we both returned to the Church, this has been improving. It is difficult to be generous when one's mind is focused on one's own financial troubles! We love one another and our children. We will accept this new life with excitement. We have goals that are non-financial that may be within reach! So at the end of the day, the comparisons between our life and the lives of our friends do not hold up. We are living as we have chosen to live in many ways; we accept our own challenges and are satisfied.
ADDENDUM--Here is the source for my comments about academic motherhood and fatherhood, above, from The New Republic's Open University blog feature. Evidently the same search term yielded this result and one of my posts! It never ceases to amaze me how the web works. . .
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