In her essay Crossing the Line in the Sand, Elissa Schappell defines quite well, the place where every mother we have read about thus far seems to be rotting away— Domestic Wasteland. “But still, here I am in the domestic wasteland turning more and more shrewish by the moment.” Seemingly, women are unavoidably made into bitches as a result of everything that ensues after a child is born. Women exchange their hopes and dreams (and romance) for dirty diapers, oven mitts, fights about money, a husband they never see and start to resent, etc. On top of all of this, the Domestic Wasteland has a snowball effect on all who dwell within it’s boundaries. Day after day, the once optimistic woman (now a bitch) is the personal secretary to kids (who throw books at her head) and the stress piles up and her bitchiness grows. Soon the bitch is on a roll—gaining volume and speed with every second of everyday, until she crashes, exploding in the faces of her children and husband, crossing the line in the sand. And of course, the bitch of the Domestic Wasteland looks like the bad guy, feeling guilty for what she can’t escape. For those other than the bitch living in Domestic Wasteland, life seems easy. My momhas lived in Domestic Wasteland, and my dad doesn’t get it. I’ll have to admit, for a while I didn’t get it either, but after reading for this class, and doing a little maturing (and I have come to accept that maturing is something I will never see my father do), I see how frustrating it must be for my mother (who is stuck married to my father, stuck taking care of three kids)stuck in Domestic Wasteland), and I take a deep breath, and I understand if my mom has a bitch fit. I don’t think it’s fair that women (mothers/wives) are sentenced to this life in this Domestic Wasteland—permitted to leave, only after it is too late, or maybe, if a bitch is particularly full of nerve, after getting a divorce. Personally, I don’t want to be a slave to Domestic Wasteland, and it scares me to think that if I do acquiesce to society’s standards—get married and have kids, that I will be forever trapped and labeled as a bitch from this dark and scary Domestic Wasteland.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Like Jana I find that I constantly question myself when I am reading about these women. I wonder if I will have the same anger as some of these successful, ambitious women. My own mother was a homemaker and it was planned like that, since she was raised to think that women were always the ones to stay at home and do housework while their husbands worked. It is a traditional mindset that held her back from being able to go to college because her own mother didn't encourage it. Education wasn't as important as finding a husband that could provide the financial support, in my Grandmother's eyes. My Grandmother, of course, was that same exact way - she was my grandfather's third wife (he had 3 wives at a time because it was a symbol of how rich he was). Because of the fact that my mom was expected to be the homemaker, she never really had that schism between work and home. Her anger as a mother mostly came from disciplining my sister and I. As the oldest, I have always been the one to fight with my mother.
Still, a lot of anger comes from lack of a healthy communication. Although communication is a common theme in many of our readings, the kind of communication between my mother and I is a bit different. My mother has lived in the US for more than 15 years and she still can't speak English very well. I, on the other hand, speak mandarin and English and understand Taiwanese and Haka fairly well (my mom uses Haka all the time when she wants to talk about me to her sister and thinks that I don't understand until I say, "HEY! I can hear you!"). Although I try very hard to speak to her in mandarin when we get into arguments, our language barrier is one of the many reasons why we can't fully understand each other. The other major reason is because of the cultures that we were both raised up in. My mother's upbringing was traditional, and although she is now a U.S. citizen, she has not really assimilated to the American culture. This causes much misunderstanding between the two of us because it's hard to explain the way I have adopted some American practices.
We have seen before how motherhood in other cultures are different, but what about cultural differences between mothers and children? I'm glad I don't really have that problem yet, and it is something I seriously think about when I think about my possible future children. After reading about these working mothers I wonder if this is the anger that I will have to deal with - work vs. home - or if I will have to deal with cultural conflicts? And I'm sure there are so many other factors too. Mainly, from our readings I think that the inner-conflicts of these women can lead them to resent themselves. They question if the way they feel is wrong and it has a lot to do with what society expects of them. Their relationships with their husbands is also an additional factor.
Last night after I had finished all of my readings I was talking to my boyfriend on the phone about them and realized my biggest worry. I am not most afraid that I will be a raging bull and hate my children. I think every one of these women we read about except for one has ended up loving their children. My biggest fear is that I will end up with a horrible relationship with my possible future husband. Before this class, I was somehow under the impression that most women's marriages were strengthened after they had children. Yet, many of the readings in our class are the opposite. Maybe the marriage doesn't fall apart, but there is a lot of conflict and tension. I wonder if most working wives feel this way after they have had children, or if it is also common for working wives in general.
Still, a lot of anger comes from lack of a healthy communication. Although communication is a common theme in many of our readings, the kind of communication between my mother and I is a bit different. My mother has lived in the US for more than 15 years and she still can't speak English very well. I, on the other hand, speak mandarin and English and understand Taiwanese and Haka fairly well (my mom uses Haka all the time when she wants to talk about me to her sister and thinks that I don't understand until I say, "HEY! I can hear you!"). Although I try very hard to speak to her in mandarin when we get into arguments, our language barrier is one of the many reasons why we can't fully understand each other. The other major reason is because of the cultures that we were both raised up in. My mother's upbringing was traditional, and although she is now a U.S. citizen, she has not really assimilated to the American culture. This causes much misunderstanding between the two of us because it's hard to explain the way I have adopted some American practices.
We have seen before how motherhood in other cultures are different, but what about cultural differences between mothers and children? I'm glad I don't really have that problem yet, and it is something I seriously think about when I think about my possible future children. After reading about these working mothers I wonder if this is the anger that I will have to deal with - work vs. home - or if I will have to deal with cultural conflicts? And I'm sure there are so many other factors too. Mainly, from our readings I think that the inner-conflicts of these women can lead them to resent themselves. They question if the way they feel is wrong and it has a lot to do with what society expects of them. Their relationships with their husbands is also an additional factor.
Last night after I had finished all of my readings I was talking to my boyfriend on the phone about them and realized my biggest worry. I am not most afraid that I will be a raging bull and hate my children. I think every one of these women we read about except for one has ended up loving their children. My biggest fear is that I will end up with a horrible relationship with my possible future husband. Before this class, I was somehow under the impression that most women's marriages were strengthened after they had children. Yet, many of the readings in our class are the opposite. Maybe the marriage doesn't fall apart, but there is a lot of conflict and tension. I wonder if most working wives feel this way after they have had children, or if it is also common for working wives in general.
Fear of Crossing
Anger as the section title “Mommy Maddest” implies, really comes out full force in these last three essays, especially in Crossing the Line in the Sand. The mother’s anger was the most understandable, but at the same was the most difficult to understand. This woman’s method of dealing with anger was telling the one she was angry at, “I’m allowed to be angry because___.” This seems more of a justification for her actions not only to herself, but also to (in this case) her children.
In part it was the circumstances that were too overwhelming, causing the mother to snap. Her husband is usually a barrier, the one that takes ‘the chair before it folds.’ The children were rambunctious as their routine was off from the night’s entertainment. In truth I find it hard to be critical of the mother at this point, but the routine seems to not be for the kids, but more so for the mother to be able to say this is when I am done. However, I become the most critical/surprised of the mother when she goes after her children, especially the child’s neck. At first I thought that she would just scream, making a bigger deal of the thrown book than it actually was. She did this and more, crossing the line of anger management.
Luckily her child’s pleading reached her and she was able to calm down. The guilt that she feels afterwards, I imagine is only natural. I’m glad she understands that she crossed a line and had the ability to draw another one. At the same time I’m bothered by a couple of ideas. First of all I can’t tell if the mother really went after her child’s neck or if that passion was a literary technique. This leads itself to my next point. Reading the mother’s frustration as an outsider I would like to think that I would have acted differently. I would have screamed, but would at least have the capability of walking out of the room until I was calmer. However, I realize that the boy needs consequences for his actions as his amusement at the mother’s distress was the most frustrating. I don’t know how to take the child’s amusement. The child’s lack of communication through words and ability to translate more so through action seems understandable at the age of three. It’s not as if the child intentionally threw the book at the mother’s face. But within this justification I feel as if I am falsely accusing the mother without having experienced the situation myself. I think there is a level of understanding that can only come from experiencing the trials of parenthood. In itself this is the most frightening aspect. In reading accounts like this I feel like I am able to say I will not act like this mother. But what if the situation is truly as overwhelming as the mother describes? What line will I cross and will I truly be thankful that I can redraw that line?
In part it was the circumstances that were too overwhelming, causing the mother to snap. Her husband is usually a barrier, the one that takes ‘the chair before it folds.’ The children were rambunctious as their routine was off from the night’s entertainment. In truth I find it hard to be critical of the mother at this point, but the routine seems to not be for the kids, but more so for the mother to be able to say this is when I am done. However, I become the most critical/surprised of the mother when she goes after her children, especially the child’s neck. At first I thought that she would just scream, making a bigger deal of the thrown book than it actually was. She did this and more, crossing the line of anger management.
Luckily her child’s pleading reached her and she was able to calm down. The guilt that she feels afterwards, I imagine is only natural. I’m glad she understands that she crossed a line and had the ability to draw another one. At the same time I’m bothered by a couple of ideas. First of all I can’t tell if the mother really went after her child’s neck or if that passion was a literary technique. This leads itself to my next point. Reading the mother’s frustration as an outsider I would like to think that I would have acted differently. I would have screamed, but would at least have the capability of walking out of the room until I was calmer. However, I realize that the boy needs consequences for his actions as his amusement at the mother’s distress was the most frustrating. I don’t know how to take the child’s amusement. The child’s lack of communication through words and ability to translate more so through action seems understandable at the age of three. It’s not as if the child intentionally threw the book at the mother’s face. But within this justification I feel as if I am falsely accusing the mother without having experienced the situation myself. I think there is a level of understanding that can only come from experiencing the trials of parenthood. In itself this is the most frightening aspect. In reading accounts like this I feel like I am able to say I will not act like this mother. But what if the situation is truly as overwhelming as the mother describes? What line will I cross and will I truly be thankful that I can redraw that line?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Rants!
These essays highlighted a few emotions that I thought were worth thinking about, and ambition is the first one. It concerns me that there are a lot of people who feel like they must focus on their careers to the detriment of their families. Ambition leads to the feeling that there are opportunities that have to be taken advantage of now, while the things that are always there, like family, can be ignored. This is true for a little while. But at what point is it time to stop trying to ensure a certain future and to start appreciating the now. It reminds me a little bit of coming to CMU. How many people are here for their future, and how many are here because its where they wanted to spend four years of their life?
Next, fairness and self-righteousness come to mind. I really hate the you-hurt-me-so-to-be-fair-I'm-going-to-hurt-you attitude. Its not an intentional thing, but that doesn't mean there's an excuse for it to get out of hand. In the essay where the writer talks about how talking about the problem solved it for a little while, I kept thinking, well why not keep talking about it? Suppose you want or need another person to sacrifice or change something. How is attacking them and making them defensive going to accomplish this? It also doesn't make the attacker feel any better. Ever. One of the greatest temptations in the world is the desire for the tit-for-tat, petty revenges.
Daddy Dearest angered me the most of any of the essays. Here's a father whose finally taking initiative and knows what's going on in his daughter's life. Except he doesn't know what's going on in his wife's life. I think that being in a relationship means that it is never just about the individual. Every decision needs to be made with an awareness of how it affects the other. So realize that by trying to steal your daughter from your wife, you are trying to damage their relationship. And how is that going to be at all beneficial to you?
On an unrelated note, has anyone seen the McCain commercials where they criticize Obama for wanting to spread the wealth? Its basically a bunch of people getting interviewed and saying, "I don't want my hard earned money getting turned into government spending." I think this is the kind of individualism that Warner criticizes in the Perfect Madness. Go it alone, work hard for yourself, screw everyone else. I wonder what would happen if these people read Rachel in the World, or Life As We Know It. Yes, the government is inefficient in its spending, but it does provide a lot of great and necessary programs. Above a certain income level, I just don't see why people need more money. If we quantified happiness, and hypothesized that there is a 1% (overestimate) increase in comfort when one's salary goes from 1 million to 2 million dollars, is this really better than a 10% (underestimate) increase in comfort which could be achieved by giving $10,000 to 200 people, potentially bumping them out of poverty? But hey, the million dollar family worked for it. They earned it. Never mind what advantages they started life out with, or what breaks they got along the way, its theirs! Man. Politics.
Next, fairness and self-righteousness come to mind. I really hate the you-hurt-me-so-to-be-fair-I'm-going-to-hurt-you attitude. Its not an intentional thing, but that doesn't mean there's an excuse for it to get out of hand. In the essay where the writer talks about how talking about the problem solved it for a little while, I kept thinking, well why not keep talking about it? Suppose you want or need another person to sacrifice or change something. How is attacking them and making them defensive going to accomplish this? It also doesn't make the attacker feel any better. Ever. One of the greatest temptations in the world is the desire for the tit-for-tat, petty revenges.
Daddy Dearest angered me the most of any of the essays. Here's a father whose finally taking initiative and knows what's going on in his daughter's life. Except he doesn't know what's going on in his wife's life. I think that being in a relationship means that it is never just about the individual. Every decision needs to be made with an awareness of how it affects the other. So realize that by trying to steal your daughter from your wife, you are trying to damage their relationship. And how is that going to be at all beneficial to you?
On an unrelated note, has anyone seen the McCain commercials where they criticize Obama for wanting to spread the wealth? Its basically a bunch of people getting interviewed and saying, "I don't want my hard earned money getting turned into government spending." I think this is the kind of individualism that Warner criticizes in the Perfect Madness. Go it alone, work hard for yourself, screw everyone else. I wonder what would happen if these people read Rachel in the World, or Life As We Know It. Yes, the government is inefficient in its spending, but it does provide a lot of great and necessary programs. Above a certain income level, I just don't see why people need more money. If we quantified happiness, and hypothesized that there is a 1% (overestimate) increase in comfort when one's salary goes from 1 million to 2 million dollars, is this really better than a 10% (underestimate) increase in comfort which could be achieved by giving $10,000 to 200 people, potentially bumping them out of poverty? But hey, the million dollar family worked for it. They earned it. Never mind what advantages they started life out with, or what breaks they got along the way, its theirs! Man. Politics.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Mishpaha
After reading My Mother's Ring by Helen Schulman I couldn't help but think about my own family crises. Reading about Helen's father I couldn't help but think of my own father. My father was diagnosed with a brain tumor when I was six years old. It is very difficult for me to recall the events from around that time. What i do remember is being terrified and alone. My father was in the hospital, my mother was absent, and my grandmother came up to take care of us (5 kids).
My mother during this time was working in New York City and commuting each day from our home in Jersey into the city. She was an editor for Shma: A Journal of Jewish Responsibility. I don't know what my mother did day in and day out, I just remember her not being around. If she was around she was asleep. Schulman phrases her concern this way "I knew they would be very upset to wake up and not find me home. They'd never woken up to not find me home before." and I am almost sure that my mother felt the same way. While my mother had been absent just the year before, when my grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer, it did not make her absence any less apparent and difficult for us children.
While my grandmother did come up to help around the house, and while we did have a nanny to stay with us in the harshest of times, my mother was still the one to prepare shabbat dinners each week, she was still mentally present to ask us each week what the highlight of our week was (as was the friday night dinner tradition). But even with all the help the stress still got to my mother. I never saw her angry and she never yelled, but I think that was more because she was exhausted than anything else. "What happens to a person when she suddenly finds herself more powerful than the most powerful people in her life? My parents, who after all gave me life, shepherded me through childhood that surprisingly seemed to extend itself way into adulthood, gave me love and advice, lent me money, cared for me when I was sick, baby-sat my kids so my husband and I could go to the movies... my parents were suddenly both weak, vulnerable, small." I never saw her angry, but I did see her cry.
At age six I had never seen my mother cry. At her father's funeral I don't remember a tear falling from her gorgeous and delicate brown eyes. But one night in the middle of my father's hospitalization I saw my mother sitting on the end of her bed, head in her hands crying. What do you do when you suddenly find yourself more powerful than those most powerful in your life? I gave her a hug. Schulman distanced herself from her own husband, she did not want to wear her mother's ring, so where was the comfort in her life supposed to be coming from. To make it through hard times you need to feel loved. My family made it through together and only together.
My mother during this time was working in New York City and commuting each day from our home in Jersey into the city. She was an editor for Shma: A Journal of Jewish Responsibility. I don't know what my mother did day in and day out, I just remember her not being around. If she was around she was asleep. Schulman phrases her concern this way "I knew they would be very upset to wake up and not find me home. They'd never woken up to not find me home before." and I am almost sure that my mother felt the same way. While my mother had been absent just the year before, when my grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer, it did not make her absence any less apparent and difficult for us children.
While my grandmother did come up to help around the house, and while we did have a nanny to stay with us in the harshest of times, my mother was still the one to prepare shabbat dinners each week, she was still mentally present to ask us each week what the highlight of our week was (as was the friday night dinner tradition). But even with all the help the stress still got to my mother. I never saw her angry and she never yelled, but I think that was more because she was exhausted than anything else. "What happens to a person when she suddenly finds herself more powerful than the most powerful people in her life? My parents, who after all gave me life, shepherded me through childhood that surprisingly seemed to extend itself way into adulthood, gave me love and advice, lent me money, cared for me when I was sick, baby-sat my kids so my husband and I could go to the movies... my parents were suddenly both weak, vulnerable, small." I never saw her angry, but I did see her cry.
At age six I had never seen my mother cry. At her father's funeral I don't remember a tear falling from her gorgeous and delicate brown eyes. But one night in the middle of my father's hospitalization I saw my mother sitting on the end of her bed, head in her hands crying. What do you do when you suddenly find yourself more powerful than those most powerful in your life? I gave her a hug. Schulman distanced herself from her own husband, she did not want to wear her mother's ring, so where was the comfort in her life supposed to be coming from. To make it through hard times you need to feel loved. My family made it through together and only together.
My Future
Wow, what a downer. With each of these essays from the Bitch in the House more of the disheartening and terrifying side of married life is shown and this time from all sides. Right after reading the essay of how unfair one woman's marriage was with her dotcom husband I vowed that I would make any partner of mine be sure that they knew what they were getting into with kids and that I wouldn't always have to be the one picking up the pieces. Then, the very next essay showed the negative effects competing over your child with your partner. Now I have to be terrified that if I am too nervous about not being able to share everything equally that I will push my relationships into competitive time bombs that will undoubtly explode.
Both of these opposite problems seem to have the same core problem though. They both have forgotten that raising a child is a joined process which two people share. Both parents need to be seen as an agreeable team that will get through the difficult stuff as well as the fun easy stuff together. While these women seem somewhat better at communicating with their husbands than earlier essay's writers with their boyfriends, they couldn't solve their logistical and therefore emotional problems. When Edelman comments that she didn't realize what she was getting into with her husband following the carreer path he chose I got the sense that maybe he hadn't known either. And the competition shown by Abraham seemed more driven by both of their individual personalities. However, both of these problems seem much scarier to me than the earlier essays in The Bitch in The House because they both seem much harder to solve. They are here because of very real situations that I can see happening to myself and these are much harder to shrug off as just something that I simply won't let happen to me.
But at the same time I agree with Amanda that the couple in My Mother's Ring who still manages to kiss after everything that they've been through physically, is awe inspiring. The story of the author's mother losing her ring at the beginning of the essay and their marriage had me expecting the worst, but they actually seemed like a stable loving couple. And by the end of the crunch period of her husband's company the author of The Myth of Co-Parenting they seem to be happy and they seem to be equals. I'm impressed and I'm not giving up. These glimmers of love and equality are endearing and I'm hoping that they're worth it.
Both of these opposite problems seem to have the same core problem though. They both have forgotten that raising a child is a joined process which two people share. Both parents need to be seen as an agreeable team that will get through the difficult stuff as well as the fun easy stuff together. While these women seem somewhat better at communicating with their husbands than earlier essay's writers with their boyfriends, they couldn't solve their logistical and therefore emotional problems. When Edelman comments that she didn't realize what she was getting into with her husband following the carreer path he chose I got the sense that maybe he hadn't known either. And the competition shown by Abraham seemed more driven by both of their individual personalities. However, both of these problems seem much scarier to me than the earlier essays in The Bitch in The House because they both seem much harder to solve. They are here because of very real situations that I can see happening to myself and these are much harder to shrug off as just something that I simply won't let happen to me.
But at the same time I agree with Amanda that the couple in My Mother's Ring who still manages to kiss after everything that they've been through physically, is awe inspiring. The story of the author's mother losing her ring at the beginning of the essay and their marriage had me expecting the worst, but they actually seemed like a stable loving couple. And by the end of the crunch period of her husband's company the author of The Myth of Co-Parenting they seem to be happy and they seem to be equals. I'm impressed and I'm not giving up. These glimmers of love and equality are endearing and I'm hoping that they're worth it.
A Happy Ending???
Most of the literature we have read so far this semester has left a negative impact on me. Most of this literature has made me wonder, why do people get married? And why in the world do they have kids? Overall, negative feelings seem to surround marriage and kids. The Bitch in the House was no exception. Women whined about their husbands, their kids, their dual roles of mother and wife. Yet, within the negativity, frustration, and anxiety that filled these short stories, I was able to find a positive link to the popular film, The Notebook, which helped restore my faith in the decision to get married and have kids.
The Notebook, which is one of my favorite movies of all times, is a love story between Noah and Allie Calhoun. The story of their actual marriage and of raising kids is never shown, but what is shown is their life as an old couple, one with heart problems and the other with Alzheimer’s. Their bodies have grown weak, but their love has only grown stronger. Even when Allie, with Alzheimer’s cannot always remember her husband and must live in a supported living environment, Noah comments, “That's my sweetheart in there. Wherever she is, that's where my home is.” Their love after all their years ago is inspiring, intimidating, and exceptionally moving.
Although the story “My Mother’s Ring” was about the balancing act between wife, mother, and daughter, the same kind of Notebook story was shown briefly in the mother’s parents. The mother’s parents both suffered from old age issues. The mother highlights this scenario of her parents at the hospital:
“My father couldn’t lift himself out of the wheelchair and stand, and my mother couldn’t bend forward in her hospital bed to meet him because of the pain and all those tubes and wires hooked up to all those machines, but still by some miracle of determination my parents managed to kiss each other” (157).
Allie was Noah’s world. The mother’s father (in referencing her mother) noted, “She was his entire world” (155). Could it be that the rough years of early marriage and the torment of kids is worth it in the end? Could the hard times only make love stronger so that when a couple has reached old age they are everything to each other?
It seems to me that beneath all of the hell of kids and “wonderful” husbands in the early years of marriage, there is still the love. Either the couple will remember that love and push through the frustration that seems to plague all the women we have read about so far or they will fall apart. It seems to me t hat marriage is rough and kids are equated with absolute chaos. Maybe marriage is hard? Maybe raising kids really is hell? Maybe everything is as frustrating and difficult as these mothers describe, but if in the end you can still by some miracle kiss each other despite the pain and hospital equipment, then maybe, just maybe it is all worth it.
The Notebook, which is one of my favorite movies of all times, is a love story between Noah and Allie Calhoun. The story of their actual marriage and of raising kids is never shown, but what is shown is their life as an old couple, one with heart problems and the other with Alzheimer’s. Their bodies have grown weak, but their love has only grown stronger. Even when Allie, with Alzheimer’s cannot always remember her husband and must live in a supported living environment, Noah comments, “That's my sweetheart in there. Wherever she is, that's where my home is.” Their love after all their years ago is inspiring, intimidating, and exceptionally moving.
Although the story “My Mother’s Ring” was about the balancing act between wife, mother, and daughter, the same kind of Notebook story was shown briefly in the mother’s parents. The mother’s parents both suffered from old age issues. The mother highlights this scenario of her parents at the hospital:
“My father couldn’t lift himself out of the wheelchair and stand, and my mother couldn’t bend forward in her hospital bed to meet him because of the pain and all those tubes and wires hooked up to all those machines, but still by some miracle of determination my parents managed to kiss each other” (157).
Allie was Noah’s world. The mother’s father (in referencing her mother) noted, “She was his entire world” (155). Could it be that the rough years of early marriage and the torment of kids is worth it in the end? Could the hard times only make love stronger so that when a couple has reached old age they are everything to each other?
It seems to me that beneath all of the hell of kids and “wonderful” husbands in the early years of marriage, there is still the love. Either the couple will remember that love and push through the frustration that seems to plague all the women we have read about so far or they will fall apart. It seems to me t hat marriage is rough and kids are equated with absolute chaos. Maybe marriage is hard? Maybe raising kids really is hell? Maybe everything is as frustrating and difficult as these mothers describe, but if in the end you can still by some miracle kiss each other despite the pain and hospital equipment, then maybe, just maybe it is all worth it.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Themes
Life as We Know It seemed to take a more accessible voice in the second half of our reading. It also brought out the theme of the working parent/writer. Although Berube was not writing this book at the time, he was still teaching, grading etc. His familial obligations caused him to “[learn] to work extremely quickly in short bursts, never knowing when I would next be interrupted…” (145). We saw this theme in other works, but never from the point of view of a father. From this book I gain the appreciation of the father as a forefront parent rather than one in the background as he so often has been portrayed. This is probably in part due to the fact that we have mostly been reading works by women. In reading Berube, I can’t help but compare his style to someone like Bernstein. Bernstein’s work was real on such an emotional level. Through her language she not only evokes empathy, but she also calls for a change in medical funding for the retarded or disabled. Berube, however is not as sentimental in his call for change, rather he relies more on facts. However, Berube still touches on the emotional level, but in a very different manner. Where Bernstein was more empathetic, Berube’s tone was more ‘silly.’ This word is not necessarily the right one; however, in a way this silly tone lends itself to the realness of Jaime. I think Berube’s main point throughout this entire book is that Jaime is human, just like everyone else. In relating Jaime’s developmental stories, (for exp. his first word, ‘oops’) Berube points out that the Jaime understands, but is just slow to communicate. The fact that Jaime’s communication skills and physical disabilities are aided by not only his interaction with his family, but also of ‘normal’ classmates, only adds to the statement that Jaime is no less human than anyone else.
Another theme that we have seen which Berube touches on is sitters/nannies. But where most other authors touched on the difficulty of attaining a nanny, Berube looked at the nanny from a different perspective. First and foremost, the most interesting thing about the Special Sitter Class was that Berube was attending it for himself; i.e. to learn how to take care of his own child. I admire him in this aspect, as he yet again takes on an immediate and caring father role. In the meantime he still manages to become more aware of the type of help he needs and the price (possible abuse) with which it comes as well as what it pays ($5-6/hr).
Communication is another important theme. Most of the other works we have read dealt with the verbal communication between adults and government, mothers and other mothers etc. In Life as We Know It some of these communication interactions occur, but the reader is introduced to a new non-verbal form i.e. sign language. Sign language is not a new concept, but it was interesting to note the different connotations behind it. Some people, for instance saw signing as Native American Indian ‘speech,’ while others saw it as a prevention of the ability to talk. Since communication is that much harder for Down Syndrome children, I personally, and Berube would probably agree, take the ability to sign as a form of intelligence.
Another theme that we have seen which Berube touches on is sitters/nannies. But where most other authors touched on the difficulty of attaining a nanny, Berube looked at the nanny from a different perspective. First and foremost, the most interesting thing about the Special Sitter Class was that Berube was attending it for himself; i.e. to learn how to take care of his own child. I admire him in this aspect, as he yet again takes on an immediate and caring father role. In the meantime he still manages to become more aware of the type of help he needs and the price (possible abuse) with which it comes as well as what it pays ($5-6/hr).
Communication is another important theme. Most of the other works we have read dealt with the verbal communication between adults and government, mothers and other mothers etc. In Life as We Know It some of these communication interactions occur, but the reader is introduced to a new non-verbal form i.e. sign language. Sign language is not a new concept, but it was interesting to note the different connotations behind it. Some people, for instance saw signing as Native American Indian ‘speech,’ while others saw it as a prevention of the ability to talk. Since communication is that much harder for Down Syndrome children, I personally, and Berube would probably agree, take the ability to sign as a form of intelligence.
It is an interesting dilemma, I think, that the American people are so focused on their rights to privacy but at the same time are so focused on getting government funding for causes of their own interest. It is not my place to say whether this issue or another is more deserving of funding. Berube and Bernstein argue that more government funding should be spent on education and living for disabled peoples. Judith Warner in her Perfect Madness, seems to argue that women should be getting some form of governmental support to raise a family in America (much like some European countries). A question that I have is a question of rights and obligations: Who in our society is obligated to care for disabled peoples? If everyone is obligated (as Berube is wont to believe) to aid in the support of these disabled peoples then who has the right to dictate what is best for them? If everyone is obligated to aid in the support of disabled people does everyone also have the right to know about their lives?
I feel like Berube walks a very fine line between a desire for privacy and a desire for fiscal aid. It is my opinion that a society should help raise a child, much like the African proverb suggests. Therefore it is of my opinion that the some tax dollars should in fact be destined for the education and living facilities for disable peoples. Berube poses this problem "So, dear reader, be you a chimey sweep or a chairman of the board, do you have any obligations to the Jamies in your midst? Why is it possible for us to believe that we may, and so easy for is to act as if we do not?" (232). What does it say about the American society that we do not feel the need to support our fellow citizens? Or rather that we do feel the need and obligation and more frighteningly do nothing about it?
Berube discusses in his final chapter the need to place "disabled" children in the classrooms with "normal" children. He puzzles at the legislation that varies state to state about whether they in fact share classrooms. It seems that American society has inherrent in it some sort of fear of those different. That those people with some disabilities do not share the same rights as those who are "normal." What sort of lesson do we teach our own children if we insist that disabled children should be separated from everyone else. According to Berube, Jamie learns better in the presence of other fully functioning children, he learns better from reward, he learns better, in a sense, from peer pressure. So, is it not an obligation of this society to aid in the education of these disabled children without any sacrifice on our part?
To return to the first point, do I have an obligation to help someone else's child? And if I do, do I have a right to know something about their lives? It is a question of Roe v. Wade and it is a question that I believe the Supreme Court is continuously battling. In my opinion, Yes, we have an obligation to help someone else's child. But No, we do not have any right to peak into their lives simply with our money.
I feel like Berube walks a very fine line between a desire for privacy and a desire for fiscal aid. It is my opinion that a society should help raise a child, much like the African proverb suggests. Therefore it is of my opinion that the some tax dollars should in fact be destined for the education and living facilities for disable peoples. Berube poses this problem "So, dear reader, be you a chimey sweep or a chairman of the board, do you have any obligations to the Jamies in your midst? Why is it possible for us to believe that we may, and so easy for is to act as if we do not?" (232). What does it say about the American society that we do not feel the need to support our fellow citizens? Or rather that we do feel the need and obligation and more frighteningly do nothing about it?
Berube discusses in his final chapter the need to place "disabled" children in the classrooms with "normal" children. He puzzles at the legislation that varies state to state about whether they in fact share classrooms. It seems that American society has inherrent in it some sort of fear of those different. That those people with some disabilities do not share the same rights as those who are "normal." What sort of lesson do we teach our own children if we insist that disabled children should be separated from everyone else. According to Berube, Jamie learns better in the presence of other fully functioning children, he learns better from reward, he learns better, in a sense, from peer pressure. So, is it not an obligation of this society to aid in the education of these disabled children without any sacrifice on our part?
To return to the first point, do I have an obligation to help someone else's child? And if I do, do I have a right to know something about their lives? It is a question of Roe v. Wade and it is a question that I believe the Supreme Court is continuously battling. In my opinion, Yes, we have an obligation to help someone else's child. But No, we do not have any right to peak into their lives simply with our money.
Something that I have taken away from this book, (amongst many other things), is that testing is not something we can really rely on. I think of things like the SATs, where most people would say, "well SATs don't determine how smart you are, they just determine how good you are at test taking". Still, if you told that same person that you got a very high score, they would immediately say and maybe even think that you actually were very smart. It's a bit different than the tests that Bérubé talks about. After all, these tests that are taken on Jamie are influenced by a lot of external factors that are sometimes not taken into consideration. This takes me back to page 131 where Jamie is being tested for his hearing. Bérubé expresses his frustration, "Well, first of all, Jamie didn't respond to the voice half the time because it wasn't one of his parents'voices. Second, we rarely called him 'James,'and we never said 'uh-oh.'Third, he turned half the time simply to see the elephant and/or monkey, and not because he heard a voice." It even begins to frustrate me, because these tests aren't just tests!
The results of these tests supposedly determine the future of a child and consequently the concerns of its parents. After our class on Monday I became even more skeptical about what tests can really determine and their accuracy. Taking tests in class is one thing - taking tests in a doctor's office is completely different. Much is at stake and that includes the mental as well as the physical. It seems to be a familiar topic - tests. In some of the books that we have already read in this class, people have been told by their medical professionals that their children won't be able to certain things, based on tests. Sometimes they will tell the parent very bluntly the worst possible situation that is likely to occur. And somehow, after stressing and killing themselves over what the doctors say, their children end up fine and sometimes things are much better than ever anticipated. Then I begin to think, I can't believe these parents were crushed and in pain for so long, so unnecessarily. It's like when the obstetrician tells Bérubé and his wife to consider sending Jamie to an institution and act as if he had never happened. The weight of that kind of decision seems so light on the obstetrician that it makes me think that this is definitely NOT something she should ever have a say in. I find it unfair and frustrating to think that people stress over the worst before ever given a chance for the better. I'm glad that a lot of what Bérubé has written about shows the opposite side of the worst and also the fact that tests aren't exactly as telling as they seem to be.
Bérubé's book seem to remind me of Bernstein in many ways. In the end, at the epilogue, I think I have found out why. Bérubé says that his goal is to represent Jamie as best as he can. Bernstein said the same thing in her introduction of Rachel in the World. Both authors show that they really have tried to capture their children and I believe it's because they have a message to say and this is the best way they believe it can be told.
The results of these tests supposedly determine the future of a child and consequently the concerns of its parents. After our class on Monday I became even more skeptical about what tests can really determine and their accuracy. Taking tests in class is one thing - taking tests in a doctor's office is completely different. Much is at stake and that includes the mental as well as the physical. It seems to be a familiar topic - tests. In some of the books that we have already read in this class, people have been told by their medical professionals that their children won't be able to certain things, based on tests. Sometimes they will tell the parent very bluntly the worst possible situation that is likely to occur. And somehow, after stressing and killing themselves over what the doctors say, their children end up fine and sometimes things are much better than ever anticipated. Then I begin to think, I can't believe these parents were crushed and in pain for so long, so unnecessarily. It's like when the obstetrician tells Bérubé and his wife to consider sending Jamie to an institution and act as if he had never happened. The weight of that kind of decision seems so light on the obstetrician that it makes me think that this is definitely NOT something she should ever have a say in. I find it unfair and frustrating to think that people stress over the worst before ever given a chance for the better. I'm glad that a lot of what Bérubé has written about shows the opposite side of the worst and also the fact that tests aren't exactly as telling as they seem to be.
Bérubé's book seem to remind me of Bernstein in many ways. In the end, at the epilogue, I think I have found out why. Bérubé says that his goal is to represent Jamie as best as he can. Bernstein said the same thing in her introduction of Rachel in the World. Both authors show that they really have tried to capture their children and I believe it's because they have a message to say and this is the best way they believe it can be told.
Sweet Catastrophe
It seems that with the fast-paced nature of our lives—a busy sort of social norm, it takes us longer to realize when we’re unhappy. And unfortunately, sometimes this revelation comes too late. In his book, Life As We Know It, Michael Bérubé writes “I had begun to realize, reluctantly, how angry I was with the course my life has taken.” This reluctance seems to be the only sort of defense mechanism that we have to combat the unavoidable unhappiness present in our lives. Because it takes us so long to realize when we’re unhappy, other things in our lives are compromised. In Bérubé’s case, his son is born with disabilities, something that was completely out of his control. Reading this book, I am reminded of an occasion and it’s effects on my family in my life, an occasion that possesses similar circumstances, something that was out of our control.
It all happened so rapidly. Like a staccato edition of my life, one bad thing after another. May 3, 1999 wanted nothing more than to teach me the lesson: Don't take anything for granted. I was ten then, and had never heard of the term “cardiac arrest.” My backyard had turned into a neighborhood orchestra, with everyone conducting individual duties to produce on large masterpiece of chaos. I stood ten feet from my mother with my back turned, enjoying the first warm spring evening Pittsburgh had seen in a long time when suddenly everything began to blur.
Mom and dad were going about their usual evening routine, talking with each other, catching up on family business. Gardening was my mother's passion. Our massive estate was bursting with color and fragrance. Recalling our house is made easier by gazing through Home and Garden magazines. Our yard was inviting and lovely, but within seconds, it had evolved into a battlefield.
My five year old sister floated over to me. Her innocence overwhelmed everyone. “Daddy isn't breathing,” she mumbled. I was always the only one to ever understand her.
“What?” I asked, my heart sinking. I spoke, and my words possessed authority, as if I chose to misunderstand her true words and turn them into anything but truth.
“He's not breathing.” She started to sense my fear. I raced to the other side of the carriage house, a small caretaker’s house gracing our scenic backyard. When I met my mother's eyes, the fear that dwelt inside of them cannot be described in words. Through her terror stricken voice she instructed me, her ten year old daughter, to retrieve help.
She had screamed for help prior to my arrival, and although I was only ten feet away, I didn't hear her. That is the part of my tale that haunts me. The properties on my street were huge for the suburbs, spanning at least an acre each. If I didn't hear her scream for aid, how would anyone else have? Two houses up the street a neighbor—by pure irony or an act of God, who happened to be a doctor rushed to my father, responding to my mother's silent cry for help. When she arrived on the scene she began to perform CPR on the drifting life that lay between lilacs and roses.
An ambulance was definitely called. Three different houses called for three different ambulances to come assist with what appeared to be death. I was in a hurry, running as if my life was the next to be stolen.
“My dad--HELP.” I shouted to my neighbor as I barged in his house. I can't remember ever conveying the complete story of what my young eyes had just witnessed, but still 911 was dialed. In a desperate attempt to end the scene, I threw myself on the cold street; tears sailed down my face and everything faded to black.
The back porch echoed with blue and red lights. The ambulance had finally come. What had taken so long? The skilled rescuers had taken their flashing lights to the wrong side of the street, depriving my father, for thirteen minutes without oxygen.
Somehow I gathered the grace to call my grandmother. The sweet “Hello” on the other end sounded the same as it always had, and was just what I needed to hear as she unexpectedly answered the phone. All my body could do was utter a scream over the line to her, and after my shrill blow, she quickly came to our house.
A few days later, the long drive to the hospital tortured me. I just wanted to get there and not have it be too late. Imagine a body only a decade old, making her premiere trip to a hospital to visit her own father. The name “Intensive Care Unit” meant nothing to me. I wanted to see my dad. When he laid eyes on me I don't think he knew who I was. I don't think I knew who he was either. His eyes wandered like a fragile infant mistakenly placed in the wrong wing of the hospital. I suddenly felt like the adult.
“I'm sorry Mrs. Perkins.” Those words terrified my mother. “I don't think he'll make it.” That was what the doctors told my mother that the night of the tragic event.
The warm yellow walls of my over sized home never felt so cold. For ten days in May I sat in fear. “He'll be fine and home before you know it.” Those words strolled out of my mother's mouth a lot. It was hard not to believe her trusting voice. The truth is she had no idea what would happen to him.
The sound of the telephone made me cringe and the sight of my grandmother's consoling hand reaching for the piece of white plastic to answer and receive bad news, only to translate it for her grandkids into good news (a lie), was never pleasant.
Time passed. The dinner table was missing a place setting. His coffee mug lay in the garden where it had fallen out of his hand as his eyes rolled back. I cried the tears he couldn't.
“He's coming home today.” These four words never meant so much. These four words ceased the plummet of my heart that was set into motion ten days before.
Today, the sight of an ambulance still stifles my speech. My heart skips a beat and until I voyage back home, my mind races with every “what if” my head can think of. I was young when it happened, so maybe that's why it is only starting to affect me now. But even through a child's eyes the thought of losing your father forever can be pretty earth shattering.
Because I have had this experience, I am able to see how the course of my life, with its unfortunate and unfair events, parallel Michael Bérubé’s life. “I had begun to realize, reluctantly, how angry I was with the course my life has taken.” Reluctantly, my family and I have been able to realize our unhappiness caused as a result of my father’s illness. Somehow he miraculously recovered in spite of thirteen minutes of oxygen deprivation, CPR, defibrillators, the device that delivers an electrical shock to the heart in order to stop rapid heart rhythm disturbances, three days of life support, and the sacrament of last rights. Just like Bérubé, Bernstein, and anyone else who has had the course of their life take an unexpected turn for the worse, an uncomfortable standard of living has been implemented into my family’s life (e.g. financial burdens because my father had to close his business, dealing with his short-term memory loss, medical bills, etc.). In this way, because we have had to deal with something unexpected and troubling, I feel that I can relate to Bérubé’s situation with Jamie.
Another way I feel connected to what Bérubé is going through, is because of the guilt he feels. “I had two jobs with flexible hours in a world where thirty thousand children died of starvation yesterday and another thirty thousand American workers were downsized…” Because of my experiences, I know exactly what Bérubé is trying to convey. After dealing with something uncontrollable and unfortunate, you want people to feel what you feel, you want them to know how bad you have it—because you want them to appreciate what they have. At the same time, this guilt comes creeping into the back of my mind (and Bérubé’s mind). In spite of what I have lost, or have to deal with, the guilt wants to make me appreciate what I still have. It seems as though life is always throwing us curveballs, or as Bérubé puts it, an “indefinite prolonged period of stress.” Because of the events that happened almost ten years ago with respect to my dad, and just like Bérubé has been given a disabled son, life translates into a time-line of stress, with virtually no way to recover. I don’t want to complain, because I do appreciate everything I have, just as I am sure Bérubé appreciates what he has. But it certainly is hard to get up each morning when you know that you have to kick and scream to get what you want, when other people seem to just glide through life.
It has only been a recent realization on my part, of the hardships that affect my family as a result of my dad’s sickness, and I feel that just like Bérubé, I was reluctant to admit that unhappiness was present in my life. Now that I have been able to realize, I am also starting to accept and learn to deal with it. I am starting to look back on this unfortunate disaster as a sort of sweet catastrophe because I know that in the end, it will make me stronger.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tests Fail
The beginning of the novel addresses the issue of prenatal testing in quite lengthy detail. Should a mother get prenatal testing? Should a mother rely in the results of that testing? Does she have the child if the results are not a perfectly healthy baby? I personally feel the decision to get the testing one way or another is not the main issue; the real issue lies in a parent’s decision of whether to trust in the results or not. Test results are not always accurate; they sometimes fail.
The second half of the novel addresses yet another set of tests though—tests after the baby is actually born. Special needs children are tested in a multitude of areas from speech and identification to hearing and motor skills. One of the tests Jamie must undergo is a hearing test. The results are less than favorable when they conclude he has “moderate to moderately severe hearing loss” (130). However, the problem with these types of tests is not necessarily the failure of the results, but the failure of the tests themselves.
When you test a ‘normal’ child in math, a problem is written down on a piece of paper, such as 1+1. If the child writes down the answer 2, then the child has successfully passed the test. However, the problem within the test (1+1) is that it is both constant and consistent for all of the ‘normal’ children participating in it.
When you test a special needs child in different areas, there is no constant and consistent way to produce a result. For example, Janet explains how the hearing test Jamie took was an inaccurate test: “Well, first of all, Jamie didn’t respond to the voice half the time because it wasn’t one of his parents’ voices. Second, we rarely call him ‘James,’ and we never said ‘uh-oh.’ Third, he turned half the time simply to see the elephant and/or monkey, and not because he heard a voice” (131). The test was consistent and constant in terms of how hearing is tested, however, it is not consistent or constant for each special needs child. Therefore, Jamie did not fail (had such poor results), the test failed.
My own brother Austin (having cerebral palsy) has also taken part in his fair share of tests that fail. The results are not always accurate because they are not geared to the individual. For example, Austin loves oreos. When he was younger, he was once asked to identify the cookie between two different pictures (one was an animal cookie and the other was a saltine cracker) he failed to pick the appropriate picture. I’m not sure if Austin has ever had either. However, if an oreo had been one of the pictures he would have surely known the correct response. His test results, like Jamie’s were extremely upsetting and negative. However, as Janet noted the test was inaccurate. My mother would strongly agree based on Austin as an individual and the progress he has made.
When it comes to testing before birth, parents need to take into account that results are not always accurate. However, especially after birth, parents should rely on the individual because when it comes to special needs children, tests can fail.
The second half of the novel addresses yet another set of tests though—tests after the baby is actually born. Special needs children are tested in a multitude of areas from speech and identification to hearing and motor skills. One of the tests Jamie must undergo is a hearing test. The results are less than favorable when they conclude he has “moderate to moderately severe hearing loss” (130). However, the problem with these types of tests is not necessarily the failure of the results, but the failure of the tests themselves.
When you test a ‘normal’ child in math, a problem is written down on a piece of paper, such as 1+1. If the child writes down the answer 2, then the child has successfully passed the test. However, the problem within the test (1+1) is that it is both constant and consistent for all of the ‘normal’ children participating in it.
When you test a special needs child in different areas, there is no constant and consistent way to produce a result. For example, Janet explains how the hearing test Jamie took was an inaccurate test: “Well, first of all, Jamie didn’t respond to the voice half the time because it wasn’t one of his parents’ voices. Second, we rarely call him ‘James,’ and we never said ‘uh-oh.’ Third, he turned half the time simply to see the elephant and/or monkey, and not because he heard a voice” (131). The test was consistent and constant in terms of how hearing is tested, however, it is not consistent or constant for each special needs child. Therefore, Jamie did not fail (had such poor results), the test failed.
My own brother Austin (having cerebral palsy) has also taken part in his fair share of tests that fail. The results are not always accurate because they are not geared to the individual. For example, Austin loves oreos. When he was younger, he was once asked to identify the cookie between two different pictures (one was an animal cookie and the other was a saltine cracker) he failed to pick the appropriate picture. I’m not sure if Austin has ever had either. However, if an oreo had been one of the pictures he would have surely known the correct response. His test results, like Jamie’s were extremely upsetting and negative. However, as Janet noted the test was inaccurate. My mother would strongly agree based on Austin as an individual and the progress he has made.
When it comes to testing before birth, parents need to take into account that results are not always accurate. However, especially after birth, parents should rely on the individual because when it comes to special needs children, tests can fail.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Abortion
I have always been strongly pro-choice in my beliefs about abortion with the argument that abortion is a horrible, awful thing that should still be a choice for the individual, rather than the state, to make. However, I had never realized that I had come to this conclusion because of what I perceived as being the only conceivable argument about being pro-choice. Life As We Know It definitely allowed me to revisit this debate with new eyes. His argument seems strongly for the individual being the only one who is qualified enough on each very unique case to make this decision and I absolutely agree with him. However, I am not sure if I would still hold as strongly to the argument that abortion is necessarily such an awful thing that should cause those involved tremendous guilt and difficulty in finding necessary treatments. Every parent's situation seems far to individual to be able to make any blanket statements.
After reading Freakanomics, which has a chapter devoted to how the legalization of abortions have caused the crime rates in America to drop significantly, I again had to question my beliefs in this debate. Although these two arguments seem to be about very different aspects of abortion they both speak to a relvancy as an important policy to pay attention to. While Freakanomics looks at all abortions, Life As We Know It is specifically focused on predetermined disabled children being aborted and this seems to be a very important distinction. However, when the concept of having less criminals effecting our economic and social structure as a country is applied to the situations that Life As We Know It is discussing I can see some overlap. Some of the sources in Life As We Know It talk about the extinction of downs kids. While I think that the word extinction is stretching it, I'm not sure if this concept is as bad as it intially appears. While it would be horrible to think of murdering people with disabilites after having been through life expereinces and grown into human beings, it doesn't seem so ridiculous to want to reduce the population of special needs children by preventing them from being born. This would lead to a much less stretched budget for the children who were born, either because of the parents decission, or because of not knowing about the disability until birth. I am by no means suggesting that all parents should be recommended by doctors to abort their children after prenatal testing, just that the guilt felt by those who do decide to abort should be less put forth by society. In the same sense that have a lowered crime rate was beneficial to society, having less disabled people to care for as a society would also be beneficial. The quality of life for people like Rachel and Jamie who do use the system would certainly improve with more housing and staff to go around.
However, using numbers to justify such a deeply personal issue seems wrong to me as well and the issue in my mind is not quite settled yet.
After reading Freakanomics, which has a chapter devoted to how the legalization of abortions have caused the crime rates in America to drop significantly, I again had to question my beliefs in this debate. Although these two arguments seem to be about very different aspects of abortion they both speak to a relvancy as an important policy to pay attention to. While Freakanomics looks at all abortions, Life As We Know It is specifically focused on predetermined disabled children being aborted and this seems to be a very important distinction. However, when the concept of having less criminals effecting our economic and social structure as a country is applied to the situations that Life As We Know It is discussing I can see some overlap. Some of the sources in Life As We Know It talk about the extinction of downs kids. While I think that the word extinction is stretching it, I'm not sure if this concept is as bad as it intially appears. While it would be horrible to think of murdering people with disabilites after having been through life expereinces and grown into human beings, it doesn't seem so ridiculous to want to reduce the population of special needs children by preventing them from being born. This would lead to a much less stretched budget for the children who were born, either because of the parents decission, or because of not knowing about the disability until birth. I am by no means suggesting that all parents should be recommended by doctors to abort their children after prenatal testing, just that the guilt felt by those who do decide to abort should be less put forth by society. In the same sense that have a lowered crime rate was beneficial to society, having less disabled people to care for as a society would also be beneficial. The quality of life for people like Rachel and Jamie who do use the system would certainly improve with more housing and staff to go around.
However, using numbers to justify such a deeply personal issue seems wrong to me as well and the issue in my mind is not quite settled yet.
At Once Complicated and Simple
The first part of Michael Bérubé’s Life as We Know It is as emotionally affecting as it is deeply complex. While wading through his extensive knowledge of genetics or his dense critique of the ethics of abortion; his lectures on technology or his views on prenatal testing—(“we can simply scoop up a few of the fetus’s nucleated erythrocytes, no problem, and do a prenatal cytogenetic evaluation every bit as accurate as amniocentesis”)—I have the firm view that he is struggling to provide a solid, simply-stated articulation of the difficulty and joy in having a baby with Down’s syndrome (71).
The heart of his argument, I believe, lies in the notions of societal judgment and guilt, much like previous books for this class have argued against. He advocates against medical establishments “strongly advising” patients to abort or not abort Down syndrome babies, but makes it clear that he does not want to sound as if he is “strongly advising” at the risk of sounding self-righteous (80). He makes the point that “Down syndrome is a disability whose effects are too various to predict and often too mild to justify abortion on ‘quality of life’ considerations for the parents and child” and is, I believe, making a parallel between the historic practice of automatic institutionalizing children with Down’s and the modern-day option of abortion of them when Down’s is detected in utero (79). He is opposed to the idea of necessary guilt: “I believe that no good is achieved by making some forms of childbearing mandatory…just as I would deny that I have the right to make other parents feel guilty for aborting a fetus with Down syndrome, so too would I deny that other parents have the right to make Janet and me feel guilty for having Jamie,” and seems to deftly toe the (difficult) line of the open discussion of abortion (79).
In his recognition that his idealism is utopian he seems to find comfort, but it is only when he delves into describing Jamie himself that he allows himself to write with emotion: “when Jamie is running, swimming, or doubled over with laughter: his little heart is doing just fine, it’s just a beating heart” (83). There are also many similarities with Bernstein’s book, not only because it is a book about a parent and a disabled child, but also in its recognition that “we will never not worry about his future” and the burden it takes up to “represent Jamie as best as I can”, as well as its struggles with medical costs, procedures, adequate care and its exploration of public and private (xi-xix).
The book seems so jam-packed with knowledge of fine literature, complicated biology, medical jargon and political discourse, but by page 94 I find it to be the start of a very simple story told by a hopeful and sad father who had to “intellectualize” his world just to reach a place where he could write about his son’s ability to recognize the desires and needs of other people. “But the ability to imagine what other people might like, what other people might need—that seems to me a more crucial, more essential ability for human beings to cultivate than the ability to ride trains round and round (xviii). This, it seems, is his message to those who would immediately write-off unborn children thought to be unable to someday learn, love or have meaningful lives.
The heart of his argument, I believe, lies in the notions of societal judgment and guilt, much like previous books for this class have argued against. He advocates against medical establishments “strongly advising” patients to abort or not abort Down syndrome babies, but makes it clear that he does not want to sound as if he is “strongly advising” at the risk of sounding self-righteous (80). He makes the point that “Down syndrome is a disability whose effects are too various to predict and often too mild to justify abortion on ‘quality of life’ considerations for the parents and child” and is, I believe, making a parallel between the historic practice of automatic institutionalizing children with Down’s and the modern-day option of abortion of them when Down’s is detected in utero (79). He is opposed to the idea of necessary guilt: “I believe that no good is achieved by making some forms of childbearing mandatory…just as I would deny that I have the right to make other parents feel guilty for aborting a fetus with Down syndrome, so too would I deny that other parents have the right to make Janet and me feel guilty for having Jamie,” and seems to deftly toe the (difficult) line of the open discussion of abortion (79).
In his recognition that his idealism is utopian he seems to find comfort, but it is only when he delves into describing Jamie himself that he allows himself to write with emotion: “when Jamie is running, swimming, or doubled over with laughter: his little heart is doing just fine, it’s just a beating heart” (83). There are also many similarities with Bernstein’s book, not only because it is a book about a parent and a disabled child, but also in its recognition that “we will never not worry about his future” and the burden it takes up to “represent Jamie as best as I can”, as well as its struggles with medical costs, procedures, adequate care and its exploration of public and private (xi-xix).
The book seems so jam-packed with knowledge of fine literature, complicated biology, medical jargon and political discourse, but by page 94 I find it to be the start of a very simple story told by a hopeful and sad father who had to “intellectualize” his world just to reach a place where he could write about his son’s ability to recognize the desires and needs of other people. “But the ability to imagine what other people might like, what other people might need—that seems to me a more crucial, more essential ability for human beings to cultivate than the ability to ride trains round and round (xviii). This, it seems, is his message to those who would immediately write-off unborn children thought to be unable to someday learn, love or have meaningful lives.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Maternal Anxiety
Throughout Perfect Madness the author suggests that maternal anxiety revolves around the perceived notion that the child is the mother’s main focus; “What’s really unique about maternal anxiety today is our belief that if something goes wrong with or for our children, it’s a reflection on us mothers. Because we believe we should be able to control life so perfectly that we can keep bad things from happening” (Warner, 191). In part this is true. However this brings up the age old question of nurture versus nature. From this standpoint, the mother is not totally responsible for her children if she allows them to make their own decisions with guidance from her. I realize that I have just contradicted myself by saying ‘allow,’ thus maybe this notion of control cannot be totally erased. I don’t think it should as long as control is used as guidance and the mother does not take it to the extreme and is able to eventually let go.
Some of this anxiety is seen in the author’s ‘winner take all’ theory. She believes this is the most basic mother anxiety; “they want the best for their kids-and push them to do their very best-in part because they fear they cannot do the best for them “(216). From this the author steps into controversial water when she iterates that as children are prone to this type of overachieving parenting, the child ultimately pursue ideas/ talents in disregard to the way it makes them feel as opposed to what it will look like on a college resume. From my personal experience one did not think about college and its requirements until the second-third year of high-school. The people I know played sports and were involved in certain activities that they enjoyed because of that enjoyment, there was never an ulterior motive. The mother may have thought so, but I think she would more or less look to the child’s happiness while still keeping a grip on a future reality i.e. college.
In today’s world college is a necessary step. This in turn reflects the proposed problem of failing public schools as they increase their focus on test prep rather than substantive learning. I agree that public learning needs to change, but without other funding, find it unlikely to do so. In attending public school I have seen first- hand how this method affects learning. I realize this mostly through the English department. There seems to be a lot of literature that I have not read as opposed to other people who have attended private schools, or even more financially developed public schools.
Aside from this there was something in the author’s mother anxiety in which she made the comment that increasingly mothers find themselves choosing between career and children. I would love to know how she would respond to my family. I am one of four children, but my parents are both middle school P.E. and choir teachers. They thus not only have four children at home to deal with, but around 210 children not their own to deal with every single weekday. Their anxiety I imagine would be even greater than these mothers/fathers yet they chose their job. What does this in turn say about the parent who ultimately chooses the anxiety of children as a career?
Some of this anxiety is seen in the author’s ‘winner take all’ theory. She believes this is the most basic mother anxiety; “they want the best for their kids-and push them to do their very best-in part because they fear they cannot do the best for them “(216). From this the author steps into controversial water when she iterates that as children are prone to this type of overachieving parenting, the child ultimately pursue ideas/ talents in disregard to the way it makes them feel as opposed to what it will look like on a college resume. From my personal experience one did not think about college and its requirements until the second-third year of high-school. The people I know played sports and were involved in certain activities that they enjoyed because of that enjoyment, there was never an ulterior motive. The mother may have thought so, but I think she would more or less look to the child’s happiness while still keeping a grip on a future reality i.e. college.
In today’s world college is a necessary step. This in turn reflects the proposed problem of failing public schools as they increase their focus on test prep rather than substantive learning. I agree that public learning needs to change, but without other funding, find it unlikely to do so. In attending public school I have seen first- hand how this method affects learning. I realize this mostly through the English department. There seems to be a lot of literature that I have not read as opposed to other people who have attended private schools, or even more financially developed public schools.
Aside from this there was something in the author’s mother anxiety in which she made the comment that increasingly mothers find themselves choosing between career and children. I would love to know how she would respond to my family. I am one of four children, but my parents are both middle school P.E. and choir teachers. They thus not only have four children at home to deal with, but around 210 children not their own to deal with every single weekday. Their anxiety I imagine would be even greater than these mothers/fathers yet they chose their job. What does this in turn say about the parent who ultimately chooses the anxiety of children as a career?
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Freaking Out About Madness
Here are some reactions I had more than once when reading Perfect Madness. I am glad I'm not a woman. I don't care about abortion. Even after getting through the fatherhood chapter, and having some of their problems acknowledged, I remain glad that I won't have these issues. However, I remain generally skeptical about the generality that Warner uses to describe mothering. There are so many examples of things that my parents didn't do, that I could write an entire post on that. And in general, my friends seemed just as well-adjusted. But I certainly knew people whose parents were perfectly mad. My high school girlfriend, for instance, really wanted to go to Stanford. She applied and got accepted by early action. But her mom insisted that she still apply to schools like Harvard, so she could brag to her friends that her daughter got accepted there. About abortion, I was surprised to read that it had been such an important issue for women. Warner was very insistent that it made women feel as if their bodies were not their own. Is this true? Personally, abortion seems so distant from my own life, like a choice that will never be considered, that I've never really thought about it. But apparently all women felt like they no longer controlled their bodies, and this was a dreadful thing.
Warner often implies that less parenting would be a good thing, but on page 192, as she lists the things parents won't allow, I wondered just how far she wanted this to go. She uses the example, "No TV, only a half hour of TV." My first impression was how is limiting a child's TV time at all equivalent to banning sugar. It seems to me that TV limits are a very good and responsible thing to do. This also got me thinking about all the talk about how kids had such a variety of thereapists to go to. I think some therapy is actually important. I think there is this middle ground before the extremes she is bemoaning that still involve doing some of the activities that she bemoans. Again, I'm sure she realizes this, but it doesn't come across in her writing.
Warner scared me with all her negative economy talk. I tend to do a very good job of being optimistic about my future. I had to struggle to keep that going in the face of her statistics and anecdotes about how the boom years really weren't a boom for very many people. If it was bad then, what's it like now?
I freaked out when I got to the passage on page 235 where Warner quotes John Rosemond saying, "Today's children whine more, are more disrespectful, and throw tantrums long past the age when yesterday's children were over them completely." Yes, John? Really? Your evidence? Forget to take your anti-crotchety-old-man pills when you were writing this? Get off my damn lawn and all that? But I suppose I'll assume that he does actually support this claim in his writing and Warner is just quoting a particularly salient sentence.
Warner finally hits her stride in the last chapter. She talks about the problems with France's system, which I'd been waiting for for 250 pages, so that was good. And she suggests solutions. I think that the structure of this book could have been different and better. Why hold back this until the end? Why not address solutions along the way? It could keep the book from getting overwhelming. I think that just reading that last chapter as a standalone essay would have been almost effective as reading the whole book.
Warner often implies that less parenting would be a good thing, but on page 192, as she lists the things parents won't allow, I wondered just how far she wanted this to go. She uses the example, "No TV, only a half hour of TV." My first impression was how is limiting a child's TV time at all equivalent to banning sugar. It seems to me that TV limits are a very good and responsible thing to do. This also got me thinking about all the talk about how kids had such a variety of thereapists to go to. I think some therapy is actually important. I think there is this middle ground before the extremes she is bemoaning that still involve doing some of the activities that she bemoans. Again, I'm sure she realizes this, but it doesn't come across in her writing.
Warner scared me with all her negative economy talk. I tend to do a very good job of being optimistic about my future. I had to struggle to keep that going in the face of her statistics and anecdotes about how the boom years really weren't a boom for very many people. If it was bad then, what's it like now?
I freaked out when I got to the passage on page 235 where Warner quotes John Rosemond saying, "Today's children whine more, are more disrespectful, and throw tantrums long past the age when yesterday's children were over them completely." Yes, John? Really? Your evidence? Forget to take your anti-crotchety-old-man pills when you were writing this? Get off my damn lawn and all that? But I suppose I'll assume that he does actually support this claim in his writing and Warner is just quoting a particularly salient sentence.
Warner finally hits her stride in the last chapter. She talks about the problems with France's system, which I'd been waiting for for 250 pages, so that was good. And she suggests solutions. I think that the structure of this book could have been different and better. Why hold back this until the end? Why not address solutions along the way? It could keep the book from getting overwhelming. I think that just reading that last chapter as a standalone essay would have been almost effective as reading the whole book.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Lisa Belkin article on what happens when both parents try to do it all
On her first day back to work after a four-month maternity leave, Amy Vachon woke at dawn to nurse her daughter, Maia. Then she fixed herself a healthful breakfast, pumped a bottle of breast milk for the baby to drink later in the day, kissed the little girl goodby
But before she left, there was one more thing. She reached over to her husband, Marc, who would not be going to work that day in order to be home with Maia, and handed him the List. That’s what they call it now, when they revisit this moment, which they do fairly often. The List. It was nothing extraordinary — in fact it would be familiar to many new moms. A large yellow Post-it on which she had scribbled the “how much,” “how long” and “when” of Maia’s napping and eating.
“I knew her routines and was sharing that with Marc,” Amy recalls.
She also remembers what he did next. Gently but deliberately, he ripped the paper square in half and crumbled the pieces into a ball.
“I got the message,” Amy says.
Read more here:
Mommy War Machine
For your next paper I'll be asking you to take a stand on a more social and political issue, such as childcare and/or the "Mommy Wars." The best article on the mommy wars in recent years is about how the media fuels this so called war. Here's how it starts out. The link to read the rest is below.
PUT A BINKY IN IT
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/27/AR2007042702043.html
PUT A BINKY IN IT
The Mommy War Machine
By E.J. Graff Sunday, April 29, 2007; Page B01
You see the magazine illustration: two women glaring at each other, about to take a swing with their satchels -- one a briefcase, the other a diaper bag. And you know right away what's coming: another "Mommy Wars" story, a juicy tale of mothers who work and moms who stay home, dissing each other on playgrounds and in school parking lots with junior-high-level bile.
This trend story has been running for a generation. Just this month, the latest salvo -- Leslie Bennetts's book "The Feminine Mistake," a call-to-work warning women about the long-term costs of staying at home -- hit the shelves with a bang, setting off another round of news stories, talk shows and cyberspace debates about the progress on the battlefront.
But I've got news for you: This is a war that isn't.
(To finish, go here:)http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/27/AR2007042702043.html
Monday, October 6, 2008
I originally wanted to start off this blog with my thoughts about how motherhood is portrayed in France vs. the US. But I would also like to comment first on some things that I read in previous posts. In Ateret's entry she talks about behavior of mothers and children in public. I have also seen some pretty verbally abusive mothers yelling at their very young children. It is never anything i feel comfortable witnessing, and I also wonder, what should someone do in that situation if things got completely out of hand? Where do people draw the line that tells us when complete strangers can correct the mother? Personally, even when mothers are verbally abusive to children I don't think about intervening. The way I see it is, "hey it's her child, and I don't know her side of the story". In my mind, I draw the line at the point where a mother gets very verbally abusive because at least you can say, "you're offending me and other people". But I could never imagine saying, "that is not the right way to discipline your child", because what do I know? Not even that, but I don't know what it's like to be a mother, and even as someone who has had jobs working with children, I can't say anything because I'm not a mother and that is not my child.
In Amanda's entry about moving to France, I completely agree. I wonder, what is it that makes the French role of parenthood and motherhood so different from the U.S.? And if it is so different, then what are the expectations for parents in other cultures? When I think about my own mother, I don't even know what expectations she was under. My mom's biggest pressure was a standard that she set for herself. She wanted most of all for my sister and I to receive the best education possible and to push us to become more independent women than herself. The culture that she came from took for granted that every mother would be a stay-at-home mom and do housework and cook. She was raised based on that belief since she was a child, but her dreams of being the perfect mother I believe came from the influence of American culture. I would like to know what the difference is for other mothers in other cultures.
After reading the text, I wonder, how much of the mother anxiety is self-inflincted? I am not trying to accuse anybody of creating a pity party, I am just very curious about the situation. I find it interesting that motherhood, something that is known everywhere, is also a culturally specific thing. I just become frustrated because a lot of the things that Warner talks about, and a lot of the standard mother ideals and pressure to be the perfect mother are so... well, almost unnecessary. I know mothers just want what is best for their children. Totally understood. But other things that cause incredible anxiety, such as the "I don't know how you're going to write a book when you have a birthday party to plan" or "I wish I had time to obsess on Hello Kitty"(27) things, I mean, there's no written rule to make you do something else! It's hard to say that because I know mothers have their responsibilities, of course, but I guess what I'm really trying to say is, why can't we be more like France, (can't believe I'm saying that), and what is really stopping us from getting to that point of mere mental freedom? I mean, you have your own life to live even if you have children. Even when my mother would offer to help me with schoolwork when I had trouble, or when she volunteered to sacrifice her time just to basically be on "standby" for me if I needed "anything, anything at all", I said no. I don' t want her sacrificing her sanity and health for me, never.
In Amanda's entry about moving to France, I completely agree. I wonder, what is it that makes the French role of parenthood and motherhood so different from the U.S.? And if it is so different, then what are the expectations for parents in other cultures? When I think about my own mother, I don't even know what expectations she was under. My mom's biggest pressure was a standard that she set for herself. She wanted most of all for my sister and I to receive the best education possible and to push us to become more independent women than herself. The culture that she came from took for granted that every mother would be a stay-at-home mom and do housework and cook. She was raised based on that belief since she was a child, but her dreams of being the perfect mother I believe came from the influence of American culture. I would like to know what the difference is for other mothers in other cultures.
After reading the text, I wonder, how much of the mother anxiety is self-inflincted? I am not trying to accuse anybody of creating a pity party, I am just very curious about the situation. I find it interesting that motherhood, something that is known everywhere, is also a culturally specific thing. I just become frustrated because a lot of the things that Warner talks about, and a lot of the standard mother ideals and pressure to be the perfect mother are so... well, almost unnecessary. I know mothers just want what is best for their children. Totally understood. But other things that cause incredible anxiety, such as the "I don't know how you're going to write a book when you have a birthday party to plan" or "I wish I had time to obsess on Hello Kitty"(27) things, I mean, there's no written rule to make you do something else! It's hard to say that because I know mothers have their responsibilities, of course, but I guess what I'm really trying to say is, why can't we be more like France, (can't believe I'm saying that), and what is really stopping us from getting to that point of mere mental freedom? I mean, you have your own life to live even if you have children. Even when my mother would offer to help me with schoolwork when I had trouble, or when she volunteered to sacrifice her time just to basically be on "standby" for me if I needed "anything, anything at all", I said no. I don' t want her sacrificing her sanity and health for me, never.
Something that I have been noticing about society as a whole with regard to raising children is that in our society children are raised by their parents and only their parents. It is possible for family members to have a hand in raising children as well as hired help, but for the most part parents are the sole child rearing participants. It has come to my attention in my mere 20 years of living that some parents just do not treat their children well in public. As a society are we supposed to simply turn a blind eye and say it is his/her child and we can't tell him/her how to raise the kid?
Walking from the bus-stop at 8th and Amity toward the Waterfront I saw a woman scream at her daughter who was not, in her mind, walking fast enough to keep up with her. It should be noted that the daughter was all of 4 years old and the mother clearly walked much too fast for her daughter to stay on pace. Her daughter would not, as a result, hold her mother's hand because she kept lagging behind and this infuriated the mother even more. "HOLD MY FUCKIN' HAND YOU LITTLE BITCH!" Not even remotely an exaggeration, the mother yelled that at her daughter. Now as a passer-by, as a citizen, as woman, as a human being, do I have any right to intercede and scold the mother on her behavior? NO! Society dictates that I, not having any relation to this woman, have no right in telling this mother what she is doing blatantly wrong. Because this woman is not physically abusing her child, I have no right to step in.
Another example, I was walking along the beach in Delaware where a 4 year old child was standing in the middle of the sand between the row of houses and the ocean wailing. She was simply crying her eyes out. Her mother was standing along the row of houses yelling at her daughter to "get your [4 year old girl] ass over here. No one cares that you want to build a sandcastle, you don't matter!" The mother proceeded to yell that everyone else wanted to go get dinner and that her desire to build a sandcastle was completely unreasonable and selfish. The mother cursed some at the girl and continued to yell at her. The mother then proceeded to storm over to her daughter, who the entire time continued to cry, wail, and scream almost as loudly as her mother was yelling at her. The mother grabbed her daughters arm and began dragging her across the sand. Again, what am I as an innocent by stander allowed to do in this situation? And more importantly what should we, as a society, be expected to do when witnessing situations such as those?
It is my firm belief that as a society we have come a very long way in accepting parenting into everyday life. Men are now able to be care-takers and women can work and bring their children to work with them. Companies have built in Father-Daughter days in the work schedule. Parenting is absolutely accepted into everyday- public life. And yet, we have not gotten past the inability to tell someone that s/he is treating a child inappropriately. I long for the day in which we have that ability, and perhaps when that day comes all the stresses that Warner feels in being the perfect mother will vanish.
Walking from the bus-stop at 8th and Amity toward the Waterfront I saw a woman scream at her daughter who was not, in her mind, walking fast enough to keep up with her. It should be noted that the daughter was all of 4 years old and the mother clearly walked much too fast for her daughter to stay on pace. Her daughter would not, as a result, hold her mother's hand because she kept lagging behind and this infuriated the mother even more. "HOLD MY FUCKIN' HAND YOU LITTLE BITCH!" Not even remotely an exaggeration, the mother yelled that at her daughter. Now as a passer-by, as a citizen, as woman, as a human being, do I have any right to intercede and scold the mother on her behavior? NO! Society dictates that I, not having any relation to this woman, have no right in telling this mother what she is doing blatantly wrong. Because this woman is not physically abusing her child, I have no right to step in.
Another example, I was walking along the beach in Delaware where a 4 year old child was standing in the middle of the sand between the row of houses and the ocean wailing. She was simply crying her eyes out. Her mother was standing along the row of houses yelling at her daughter to "get your [4 year old girl] ass over here. No one cares that you want to build a sandcastle, you don't matter!" The mother proceeded to yell that everyone else wanted to go get dinner and that her desire to build a sandcastle was completely unreasonable and selfish. The mother cursed some at the girl and continued to yell at her. The mother then proceeded to storm over to her daughter, who the entire time continued to cry, wail, and scream almost as loudly as her mother was yelling at her. The mother grabbed her daughters arm and began dragging her across the sand. Again, what am I as an innocent by stander allowed to do in this situation? And more importantly what should we, as a society, be expected to do when witnessing situations such as those?
It is my firm belief that as a society we have come a very long way in accepting parenting into everyday life. Men are now able to be care-takers and women can work and bring their children to work with them. Companies have built in Father-Daughter days in the work schedule. Parenting is absolutely accepted into everyday- public life. And yet, we have not gotten past the inability to tell someone that s/he is treating a child inappropriately. I long for the day in which we have that ability, and perhaps when that day comes all the stresses that Warner feels in being the perfect mother will vanish.
I'm Moving to France
After reading the first few chapters of Perfect Madness I have reached a solid conclusion: I’m moving to France when I am ready to have kids. It seems much more do-able and definitely less intense.
Like Megan mentioned in her post, I too, began to picture myself in motherhood situations and ask myself questions about my own decisions to become a mother. Am I paying over 50,000 dollars a year for an education only to become a stay-at-home in a few years with a potential part-time job? Yes, we do have choices and freedom as American citizens. However, Warner points out our choices (as mothers) are on the order of: “You can continue to pursue your dreams at the cost of abandoning your children to long hours of inadequate childcare” (52). Pursuing a career and raising a successful family simultaneously seem impossible. How do you do it?
France seems to have a much more agreeable solution to the angst of motherhood. I think what bothered me most in this book so far was not the text itself, but the fact that America, with all our freedom and endless opportunities, cannot figure out how to cope with mother anxiety. Why not try to adapt the France lifestyle for motherhood? Why can’t we make that solution work in America? Is it because American mothers are too stuck on the concept of perfectionism? Warner suggests that mothers have the mentality that claims “...Donna Reed-inspired perfection in everything we do for our children” (41). Maybe we should stop viewing American television from the 1950s in terms of motherhood and focus on present-day French television shows. It irritates me, that this country, does not have a better solution to the problem mothers face today.
Although the fears and anxiety that the first texts of this class presented in terms of motherhood have now returned for me after reading the beginning of Perfect Madness, I thought the actual text did a great job of illuminating this mother anxiety. Key phrases and sentences really captured “the mess.” For example, the following sentence: “Parents prostitute their souls for spots in private schools” (33) really highlighted the intensity parents showed for their child’s education. Warner also utilized great examples to drive these first few chapters. For example, she explains how the working mother stayed up until 2am to pound mince pies she had bought to look homemade for a school bake sale.
After examining the text and examples in more depth, I no longer thought about my own situation as a potential future mother, but that of my own mother. My mother is a stay-at-home mom. She has been since I was born. At first the whole image of the mother making mince pies look homemade seemed absurd, but then I recounted what my own mother has done for me. She has stayed up late helping me cut out and glue for school projects, she has offered to chaperone school dances and field trips, and she has baked for school bake sales as well. Is my mother experiencing this horrible “mess” too? Maybe it’s time we learn some lessons from the French. Or else maybe I shall just suggest to my mother that she move to France with me.
Like Megan mentioned in her post, I too, began to picture myself in motherhood situations and ask myself questions about my own decisions to become a mother. Am I paying over 50,000 dollars a year for an education only to become a stay-at-home in a few years with a potential part-time job? Yes, we do have choices and freedom as American citizens. However, Warner points out our choices (as mothers) are on the order of: “You can continue to pursue your dreams at the cost of abandoning your children to long hours of inadequate childcare” (52). Pursuing a career and raising a successful family simultaneously seem impossible. How do you do it?
France seems to have a much more agreeable solution to the angst of motherhood. I think what bothered me most in this book so far was not the text itself, but the fact that America, with all our freedom and endless opportunities, cannot figure out how to cope with mother anxiety. Why not try to adapt the France lifestyle for motherhood? Why can’t we make that solution work in America? Is it because American mothers are too stuck on the concept of perfectionism? Warner suggests that mothers have the mentality that claims “...Donna Reed-inspired perfection in everything we do for our children” (41). Maybe we should stop viewing American television from the 1950s in terms of motherhood and focus on present-day French television shows. It irritates me, that this country, does not have a better solution to the problem mothers face today.
Although the fears and anxiety that the first texts of this class presented in terms of motherhood have now returned for me after reading the beginning of Perfect Madness, I thought the actual text did a great job of illuminating this mother anxiety. Key phrases and sentences really captured “the mess.” For example, the following sentence: “Parents prostitute their souls for spots in private schools” (33) really highlighted the intensity parents showed for their child’s education. Warner also utilized great examples to drive these first few chapters. For example, she explains how the working mother stayed up until 2am to pound mince pies she had bought to look homemade for a school bake sale.
After examining the text and examples in more depth, I no longer thought about my own situation as a potential future mother, but that of my own mother. My mother is a stay-at-home mom. She has been since I was born. At first the whole image of the mother making mince pies look homemade seemed absurd, but then I recounted what my own mother has done for me. She has stayed up late helping me cut out and glue for school projects, she has offered to chaperone school dances and field trips, and she has baked for school bake sales as well. Is my mother experiencing this horrible “mess” too? Maybe it’s time we learn some lessons from the French. Or else maybe I shall just suggest to my mother that she move to France with me.
National Insanity: A Concerned Response
I read the first section of The Perfect Madness with deep interest for many reasons. For one, the style read less like the creative nonfiction pieces we’ve read thus far and more like a sociological study or excavation into the unavoidable phenomenon of “mommy culture” which seems to be at the heart of the struggles of contemporary feminism. Warner links the ways in which the feminism of the 60s had been reshifted toward political freedom for women but then, curiously, re-aligned with almost parallel views on unfair sex roles and responsibility in the realm of childbirth. What also struck me was that, despite some thinking that she provides no solutions to this problem of motherhood anxiety in America, she does provide a contrasting social system (namely: France), by which the reader can compare with the system we live in now and ultimately “let our government know that we’re sick of the moralizing and temporizing and hypocrisy that until now we have characterized the political discourse about family life in America today….when we rally with our elected representatives who share those values. And when we hold their feet to the fire to make life better” (xvi). By giving us a view of a motherhood system which valued the mother as much as the children, Warner theorizes that we can begin to glean some value and insight into American parenthood as a symptomatic culture which is in dire need of attention and change.
Far from sounding like a radical politician, Warner is fascinated by this idea of “trivia” or everyday minutiae accompanying parenthood which she sees as choking mothers out of their sense of unity, calmness and rationality. When I read about the mother who, when going to buy her son some new Yu-Gi-Oh! Cards, “cut her knee deeply, and then, as a crowd gathered, sat there dumbly, contemplating her bare bone, and frantically trying to figure out how shed still make it to the store before it closed,” I was frozen in shock that this was—is seen as normal in our society; this absolutely ludicrous practice of child-worship and, as Warner puts it, making the children the center of the family structure(29). It is as if Americans purposefully try to make themselves victims of their children; that by doing so, they will have achieved a more transcendent, martyr-like sense of perfection. Again, what pulls me back into some semblance of reality is Warner’s ever-soothing memory of the glittering, glistening, sane approach to parenting manifest overseas in Paris.
It is astounding that America has fallen into this choking vice of individualism and materialism to the point where children and the atmosphere surrounding them cease to be focused on tiny people who will someday be adults and instead are seen as instruments of oppression, guilt, fear and anxiety. When did everything take on such a sense of immediacy and urgency? When did the scene come about that “the simple pleasures of motherhood were harder and harder to come by…everyone was too busy with ‘activities.’ It was hard to spend time just sort of vegetating in the sun because our kids, overstimulated by daily story hours and Gymboree, couldn’t just play in the sandbox, or run around the flagpole, or climb without running to us every five minutes” (25). What unsettles me most is the fact that Warner herself admits to being unable to keep from falling into this vortex of mommy madness. I wonder if, by the end, she’ll manage to keep afloat and not be pulled under…
Far from sounding like a radical politician, Warner is fascinated by this idea of “trivia” or everyday minutiae accompanying parenthood which she sees as choking mothers out of their sense of unity, calmness and rationality. When I read about the mother who, when going to buy her son some new Yu-Gi-Oh! Cards, “cut her knee deeply, and then, as a crowd gathered, sat there dumbly, contemplating her bare bone, and frantically trying to figure out how shed still make it to the store before it closed,” I was frozen in shock that this was—is seen as normal in our society; this absolutely ludicrous practice of child-worship and, as Warner puts it, making the children the center of the family structure(29). It is as if Americans purposefully try to make themselves victims of their children; that by doing so, they will have achieved a more transcendent, martyr-like sense of perfection. Again, what pulls me back into some semblance of reality is Warner’s ever-soothing memory of the glittering, glistening, sane approach to parenting manifest overseas in Paris.
It is astounding that America has fallen into this choking vice of individualism and materialism to the point where children and the atmosphere surrounding them cease to be focused on tiny people who will someday be adults and instead are seen as instruments of oppression, guilt, fear and anxiety. When did everything take on such a sense of immediacy and urgency? When did the scene come about that “the simple pleasures of motherhood were harder and harder to come by…everyone was too busy with ‘activities.’ It was hard to spend time just sort of vegetating in the sun because our kids, overstimulated by daily story hours and Gymboree, couldn’t just play in the sandbox, or run around the flagpole, or climb without running to us every five minutes” (25). What unsettles me most is the fact that Warner herself admits to being unable to keep from falling into this vortex of mommy madness. I wonder if, by the end, she’ll manage to keep afloat and not be pulled under…
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The next generation
Reading the Perfect Madness is incredibly similar to reading those first short stories at the beginning of the class for me. Every step I ask will this happen to me? What can I do to stop it? I feel as though every young college student looks forward to their lives and vows that none of these horrific scenarios will ever occur to them, but no matter how determined they are their lives end up spiraling into an oppressive mommy religious state. Warner's descriptions sound to me exactly like what I thought feminism was going through in the 60s, but apparently it is a much harder cycle to break out of than I thought. Her generation goes through such similar turmoil as her mother's that I can't help but feel I will be caught in it as well. And for me that notion is horrifying enough to make me not want to have children at all. I don't think that that was Warner's objective in writing these unspoken universal thoughts down though. This book seems to fit in extraordinarily well with the theme of social change and political agenda. Warner is asking for help for mother's from our society just as much as Bernstein was. It seems that these real problems could have solutions and if society were just a better and more equal place mothers wouldn't have to suffer.
The scariest problem to me that is brought up by this book is the sense that the problem isn't society forcing women into the home, or their husbands being entirely inept at anything child related, but the other mother's themselves. Everyone seems to force each other into the never ending world of activities. As someone who believes that women should be able to work full time with children in powerful positions it seems unbelievable that others would "choose" stay-at-home mom as their life's work. How can some women be able to leave their children at day care in order to pursue their career and their own lives while others choose to be perfect mothers and not have any hardships because of these choices surface. Won't those who work criticize the stay at home mom's for throwing away degrees and not contributing to society? While at the same time men in the workforce see so many women choose to say home and therefore make it subtly harder for women to continue to choose the workforce? I constantly see women who I would judge as sexist for their beliefs and actions. How can women gain equality when women can't agree that equality should be fought for?
Warner's style seems both bewildered and angry at the way the world is, but through writing she can channel these feelings into some sort of social change. However, at least in the first section, she has neither produced nor claimed to have a solution. I hope that by the end of the book she has some recommendation for a future generation of families. I wish that Warner is posing a problem that I can come away from with hope rather than fear.
The scariest problem to me that is brought up by this book is the sense that the problem isn't society forcing women into the home, or their husbands being entirely inept at anything child related, but the other mother's themselves. Everyone seems to force each other into the never ending world of activities. As someone who believes that women should be able to work full time with children in powerful positions it seems unbelievable that others would "choose" stay-at-home mom as their life's work. How can some women be able to leave their children at day care in order to pursue their career and their own lives while others choose to be perfect mothers and not have any hardships because of these choices surface. Won't those who work criticize the stay at home mom's for throwing away degrees and not contributing to society? While at the same time men in the workforce see so many women choose to say home and therefore make it subtly harder for women to continue to choose the workforce? I constantly see women who I would judge as sexist for their beliefs and actions. How can women gain equality when women can't agree that equality should be fought for?
Warner's style seems both bewildered and angry at the way the world is, but through writing she can channel these feelings into some sort of social change. However, at least in the first section, she has neither produced nor claimed to have a solution. I hope that by the end of the book she has some recommendation for a future generation of families. I wish that Warner is posing a problem that I can come away from with hope rather than fear.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Birthmothers
While today I claimed that I had a heart of stone and ice, just like Dan Savage, because of my lack of emotional response, I did have a response to Melissa, just not to the naming or adopting of 'the kid'. My mother was a birthmother to a family once and so I've heard her story many times from her words. When I first came to the idea of open adoption through Savage's book, I was very against the idea. I've never considered myself the type of person to oppose change just because this is the way it has always been done, but open adoption seemed messy to me. Allowing the birthmother to move on with her life and forget about her baby seems clean and easy. But I'm completely shocked that I could think that when I look at my own mother. She thought about her baby constantly and it obviously effected her greatly even though she was given the closed adoption ideals of never seeing the baby and pretending this part of her life had never happened. I know that there is even more that she hasn't showed me everything about her incredibly complex feelings about her experience and I wasn't there to watch her through it. Seeing my mother's relationship with her birthchild (who she found 20 years later) has helped me understand a little bit about the magnitude of her feelings about giving her up in the first place though. My constant questioning of why anyone would ever want to have a child in the first place (especially after reading the Cusk) can be answered by that magnitude for me. And this same magnitude of feeling is experienced by the young gutter punk Melissa.
Her sobbing is the only view of emotion that we experience from her throughout Savage's relationship with her. Nothing seems to please her or effect her besides the boys she lives with, her family, and even more than these the giving up of her child. The name she gives the baby especially drives this home for her, David for her current boyfriend, Kevin for the birthfather, and Pierce for her father. After the harm that her own mother has caused her the only loves left in her life are male, including her brother, father, boyfriends, and adoptive fathers of her baby boy. But at least as much as she's willing to open up to Dan and Terry the only earth shattering emotion she shows is when they leave the hospital with her baby. Although I'd never thought of it before reading Melissa's story, I know now that my mother went through exactly the same thing with her baby.
Savage used the most convincing argument for open adoption that he possibly could have in his chapter on the logic of an open adoption, Melissa's presence. Her suffering and her bond with the baby are both so strongly portrayed through Savage's writing and these seem like his entire argument. Which is part of my problem with the entire book. In the opening chapters Savage admits that the had to write this book because of a contract rather than because he had anything to say. His process seemed so easy compared to other couples that he didn't have much to say. Melissa did and she shines through the narrative. Savage's true reasons for wanting children were mundane and he states that they were more disturbing than if he wanted to be a child murderer. This mundanity speaks to the fact that he had relatively little to say about his experience with adopting a child. I feel like Savage's book about raising his child would be much more relevant and moving than the story of him adopting a child, which seems so similar to other couple's experiences.
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