Trust me when I tell you that I really really have better things to do than pontificate about the latest mainstream political party gotcha move as in Hillary Rosen (The Democrat Liberal) vs. Ann Romney (The Republican Woman(c)). But having other things to do never stopped me from writing when my head is about to pop off.
I had a baby at 26. Late for many but fairly early for someone who was expected to not leave this mortal coil until she'd obtained 3 degrees. I was single and believe me when I tell you that it was the lesser of 2 evils. (Although being a single parent wasn't what I considered an evil back then. It's still isn't; I just know that I wouldn't wish its ardors on my worst enemy.) Even if I was married or partnered I'm certain that I still would have worked full-time out of the house. For one, because I was ambitious and craved intellectual stimulation (good luck getting ahead and stimulated in the pink collar ghetto, but that's another story) and 2) raising children day in and day out is B.O.R.I.N.G.) In that way it is like war -- moments of pants-shitting terror sandwiched between long stretches of mind-numbing and often exhausting routine.
Maybe if I'd had infants after 30, maybe if I'd gotten a few good jobbing years under my belt and realized what a crock-o-shit what I called the "straight world" is, maybe I would have been keen to have a couple of kids and devote my intellectual and experiential energies to raising them. Somehow, I don't think so. It doesn't take a master's in queer theory to head the PTA; it simply doesn't and to pretend otherwise is to miss the point. I've seldom seen a woman be a better mother simply because she's educated. (And I've seen many educated women be ridiculous mothers.)
Yes, child-rearing is hard work. But part of the reason it is so hard in the industrialized world is because it is a relentless cycle of domestic acts, none, in and of themselves, hard to do and many made unbelievably efficient thanks to technology and chemistry, that no matter what one's proficiency, have to be done over and over again. And the work's beneficiaries just don't give a shit. (Ever heard a kid exclaim, "How'd this peanut butter and jelly sandwich get on the table?" I haven't either.) If that isn't the definition of unrewarding work, I don't know what is. Who, if given a real choice, would opt for that? Not me. (Although I didn't have a choice. Even if I did, I could not have been a fulltime homemaker.)
I am not putting down those who are, especially those who've had the education and privilege to do other things. On more than one occasion I've played Cassandra to some starry-eyed young woman about to start a family. I've told them that it's the hardest of jobs, the reward is long in coming, and that you will not be respected for raising children and you will be financially poorer for it. And yet, if a family is what you want, I've told them, by all means have one. All the same, can't we give the American deification of motherhood a rest, please? After a few years, it's boring and you know it. So, Ann Romney, just come clean -- being a homemaker allowed you to pursue an non-remunerative passion -- dressage -- and be a full-time wife of first, a Captain of Industry and then, a Politician's Wife, both of which have copious duties and social obligations. You've worked, but not in a occupation that is currently admired, that of being a woman who made your husband's career possible. And that's why you've had to hide behind the screen of Full-time Motherhood.
I had a baby at 26. Late for many but fairly early for someone who was expected to not leave this mortal coil until she'd obtained 3 degrees. I was single and believe me when I tell you that it was the lesser of 2 evils. (Although being a single parent wasn't what I considered an evil back then. It's still isn't; I just know that I wouldn't wish its ardors on my worst enemy.) Even if I was married or partnered I'm certain that I still would have worked full-time out of the house. For one, because I was ambitious and craved intellectual stimulation (good luck getting ahead and stimulated in the pink collar ghetto, but that's another story) and 2) raising children day in and day out is B.O.R.I.N.G.) In that way it is like war -- moments of pants-shitting terror sandwiched between long stretches of mind-numbing and often exhausting routine.
Maybe if I'd had infants after 30, maybe if I'd gotten a few good jobbing years under my belt and realized what a crock-o-shit what I called the "straight world" is, maybe I would have been keen to have a couple of kids and devote my intellectual and experiential energies to raising them. Somehow, I don't think so. It doesn't take a master's in queer theory to head the PTA; it simply doesn't and to pretend otherwise is to miss the point. I've seldom seen a woman be a better mother simply because she's educated. (And I've seen many educated women be ridiculous mothers.)
Yes, child-rearing is hard work. But part of the reason it is so hard in the industrialized world is because it is a relentless cycle of domestic acts, none, in and of themselves, hard to do and many made unbelievably efficient thanks to technology and chemistry, that no matter what one's proficiency, have to be done over and over again. And the work's beneficiaries just don't give a shit. (Ever heard a kid exclaim, "How'd this peanut butter and jelly sandwich get on the table?" I haven't either.) If that isn't the definition of unrewarding work, I don't know what is. Who, if given a real choice, would opt for that? Not me. (Although I didn't have a choice. Even if I did, I could not have been a fulltime homemaker.)
I am not putting down those who are, especially those who've had the education and privilege to do other things. On more than one occasion I've played Cassandra to some starry-eyed young woman about to start a family. I've told them that it's the hardest of jobs, the reward is long in coming, and that you will not be respected for raising children and you will be financially poorer for it. And yet, if a family is what you want, I've told them, by all means have one. All the same, can't we give the American deification of motherhood a rest, please? After a few years, it's boring and you know it. So, Ann Romney, just come clean -- being a homemaker allowed you to pursue an non-remunerative passion -- dressage -- and be a full-time wife of first, a Captain of Industry and then, a Politician's Wife, both of which have copious duties and social obligations. You've worked, but not in a occupation that is currently admired, that of being a woman who made your husband's career possible. And that's why you've had to hide behind the screen of Full-time Motherhood.
