Yes, there’s loads of working mothers out there – I’m one of them, and work with several more.
I’m glad you were entertained by it, at least, but I would have appreciated it, if you had been more specific and less concise in your review.
Journalism / Betraying the Next Generation - Part One
Wanted: Multitalented individual for high-flying, highly demanding job. Must master the fine art of multi-tasking, have the ability to prioritize and the inner strength to rise above even the most challenging circumstances. Should not be afraid of hands-on experience and close encounters of the seventh kind, and should be willing to work 24/7. Only those willing to forfeit vacation, extraneous activities, possibly marriage, definitely sex and certainly peace of mind need apply. Success will be judged on attractive packaging of product, resistance to outside temptation and choosing politically correct accessories. Position can be adequately renumerated, but only if you’re very, very lucky.
What person in their semi-sane mind would ever apply for a job like that?
Millions do, every minute of every day, all over the world. All they have to do is have “unprotected” (I use this term advisedly) sex. They don’t even have to enjoy it.
In English, we call them mothers.
When you’re a baby, Mom – or a motherly figure who doesn’t have to actually be your mother – rules the Universe. Anyone who has seen the blissed-out look on a newborn baby’s face after that first feeding session knows it. Mom is the Ultimate Goddess, tending you when you’re cold, lonely, hungry, wet, dirty or just plain bored. She appears, she cuddles, feeds, changes, washes and coddles you, and like magic, all is well in the world again. You better enjoy it, kid, because take my word for it – life will never get quite so good again. Ever.
She socializes you, teaches you to eat your spinach, pull up your socks, share your sandbox toys and refrain from killing your playmates with a plastic shovel. Eventually, by the time puberty hits, if not before, she might – if only just – refrain from killing you.
Who knows? You might even survive.
She does all this, for not much renumeration, endless adolescent recrimination, and a lifetime of emotional blackmail.
What a saint! It’s just too bad that all mothers by some obvious design fault are women, isn’t it?
Well, most of them anyway. I’m sure that a great deal of “double-dad” households manage quite well without the dubious benefits of estrogen. More power to them. They’re probably not reading this blog anyway, and if they are, they certainly don’t need my asinine opinions, even if they do get my support.
No, my beef is with women. My own gender, I might add. And, lest we forget – the Goddess only knows I never will! – the mother of two, and stepmother of two more.
Some forty-odd years ago, women were beginning to feel the first stirrings of what would be known as the Women’s Movement. That would later blossom into the heady days of the early 70’s and Estrogen Rule, consciousness raising, Ms. magazine and “You’ve come a long way, baby!”. Later still, there was the Working Girl in all her shoulder-padded, Armani-armored glory, ready at a moment’s notice for either a hostile takeover in the boardroom, or a tussle on her desk, once you figured out those fiddly La Perla crotch snaps.
In those days, young women in the West, often the daughters of those trailblazing First Generation Feminists, were pretty much ready to take on the planet on any terms at all. Motherhood was an option, but only one. There was the lure of filthy lucre, the siren call of careers, the operatic aria of achievement in the air, and be damned with anyone – or any man – who happened to be standing in the way. We – the daughters of all those women who endured so much to be heard – would rule the world, the boardroom and the bedroom, more or less in that order.
Then, it hit us. By now, it was the Nineties, and suddenly, cocooning, family and the Wail of the Womb was becoming fashionable. It occurred to many of us that perhaps we did have a biological clock, that its battery couldn’t run forever, and boy, could we ever hear it tick!
But Having It All meant Having Rather Less Than Nothing. Once the Eighth Wonder of the World had arrived, it really didn’t matter much what we did, since something or other was always wrong. Babies don’t care about your overfilled Filofax. They got sick at inconvenient times. Even if we had partners and 60-hour work weeks, we still ended up with having to do the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the shopping for food, the caring, the toys and clothing that wouldn’t ostracize the kid in kindergarten. We were the ones who remembered birthdays, holidays and anniversaries.
We had, as Erica Jong once said, “won the right to be permanently exhausted.”
Some of us gave up. Since we were all doing everything anyway, why not just dump the useless Couch Potato and do it on our own?
Some of us – the privileged who could afford it – just gave up on the rat race of glass-ceilinged careers with a sigh of relief and headed for the suburbs, where we discovered to our horror – and our mother’s – that maybe, just maybe Martha Stewart was on to something.
Once buried in the warm down comfort of surburbanism, soccer momism, carpools, ballet classes, Baby Einstein, Fisher-Price, flash cards, Whole Foods and competitive baby-raising, we set about bringing up the next generation.
And there, we betrayed our daughters, and our sons.
For lo and behold, these many years later, our children are growing up. Our daughters, brought up on the lie that “yes, dear, you can do ANYTHING you WANT”, have headed off for prestigious colleges and universities and elitist education, only to proclaim that once they have babies, it’s all over.
It’s back to competitive motherhood all over again, back to the ‘burbs, back to…some time-warp 50’s “Leave It to Beaver” alternate reality of Motherhood as Crowning Achievement. The other part of the equation – indeed, the part that makes it all possible, the Husband With Career – gets very short shrift. He never even had a choice – about babies, about the option of staying at home with the kids, or even of opting out of ambition altogether.
My rabid-feminist mother is spinning in her grave right now.
I know, Mom. I know. You burned your bra for THIS? All of you who marched in support of equal pay, equal rights (neither of which has happened yet, although there has been improvement, if not nearly enough), of the right to our own bodies and the right to lead our own lives as we see fit, all of you who wrote inflammatory prose in outrage, all you…Germaine Greers, Gloria Steinems, Susan Brownmillers, Marilyn Frenches, Erica Jongs…all of you who gave your own daughters hope and words for a better future, a future without the ghosts of Doris Day and June Cleaver…
All of your daughters have betrayed you, and they will let their own daughters betray themselves…
To be continued…
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JaCarloHairston reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a very well written personal opinion essay and probably could be published in most magazines. It stirs personal opinions that could range from completely agreeing to being turned off by the facts and opinions being so interrelated. As far as the writing no real tehnical problems jumped out and very well stated.
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Monty1 reviewed Version 1 -
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I don’t agree with you, Theres loads of working mothers out there and more day cares then there is kids. However i was entertained and it was interesting to read.
Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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Wow, what an effective way to open. They way in which the narrative describes what sounds like a very tough job and then relates it to being a mom is spectacular. The first paragraph was like a really interesting picture of something abstract, but when turned upside down, reveals itself to be quite mundane, or common. What I’m trying to say is that it did a good job of “flipping” the reader. Kudos.
“Later still, there was…” Great sentence.
This article mainly seems to be about the re-balancing of women’s roles. But it also seems to be saying that despite the advances women have made (despite how big or small), they’ve resigned to just adopting the housewife mentality—albeit now they’re not “required” to; it’s more of an option. But an option that is too frequently chosen this seems to shout.
It was immensely readable. I don’t have any nitpicks on it because I was chugging through enjoying each idea and colorful sentence as I went along.
I think it also has to do with a disenchantment with the American Dream. Or if that sounds to jingoistic, the Western Dream. The narrative takes the position of being stuck on the inside looking out, but also offers some good points of others, “won the right to be permanently exhausted.” is an example of this.
Very well written. It was some good social commentary spiked with wit and intelligence. Thanks for sharing.
-Curt
Peabeth reviewed Version 1 -
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wow, you encapsulate in this what i think every teenager, like my self is feeling by the presure that is being put upon us by the older generation, the new test that are being put up, i think this peice correctly states the feeling that you audience or the subject matter in which you are talking about are feeing, well don, i have to say, i really really liked this
jfmalewitz reviewed Version 1 -
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This was a well-written piece that I couldn’t really relate to. I see your point though, and like how you opened the piece with an original hook. I am a man so it’s hard for me to relate. I am not sure if this would be a better fit for a family magazine rather than a newspaper. It has a certain creative touch. I think it would likely work in both. I did enjoy reading it. There was one line had me confused at first.
“When you’re a baby, Mom – or a motherly figure who doesn’t have to actually be your mother – rules the Universe” I was lost for a moment. I saw the hyphens, but was confused. I guess it works, just a thought.
I hope you find a home for this. I encourage you to submit it. Because of its length, a magazine might be more interested than a newspaper. You might be paid more too. Hope some of this helped. I wish you luck. Thanks for letting me read this.
clele75 reviewed Version 1 -
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This piece is well-written. From the opening paragraph (great hook!) till the end, the voice is biting and vitriolic and grabs the reader. I also like how this piece takes on the American day and puts a female spin. “You can be anything you want?” “Until you become a mother.” Hitting on this cycle, as girls go to college with the stars in their eyes (and not yet the fetus in the womb) makes for a trenchant and timely sociological analysis.
If a women’s magazine has a column at the back for freelancers to vent such views as you’ve done,
I’d say send it. Otherwise, keep looking for a place you can publish it. Get the word count, change the piece accordingly (if the tone of the magazine is slightly different.) Good luck!
blimprue reviewed Version 1 -
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The problem with all feminism is pretty obvious: men are not free, no longer even desire freedom, and are no longer in control of their own destinies. The average working man is nothing but a commodity to be replaced when the powers that be see fit. So if feminism is going to gain equality for women, it literally has to do so by transcending what men now have, instead of trying to obtain what they have.
Since anybody who is even marginally concerned about your average working stiff is labeled a communist or radical, America at present is merely a factory for accelerating technical change; nothing of permanent consequence in advancing civilization is on the horizon…(you said it all:”the priviledged who could afford it”...everyone else is not even on the radar, unless their image can manipulate others into feeling loved or wanted, in the interests of plugging another social leak in the rapidly crumbling infrastructure of humanity)
The daughters of those early feminists betrayed noone: Americans simply don’t have the choices they had in the 60s, so much of our social consciousness was and is created by our economic engine, which is sputtering in debt and fear of hordes of cheap intellectuals and hungry workers in swarming profusion. None of the above feminists saw the world to be…
The feminists of the future must have one commandment above all others: We have to be better than men to be worthy of taking upon ourselves the mantle of civilization; anyone who is better will inevitably be hated, so failure or success cannot be gauged within this lifetime…
a_sooner_girl reviewed Version 1 -
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This is awesome and so true! I could see this published in Glamour or even Oprah’s magazine. I think you hit on some very good points. The beginning is great, I like the way you start with the job opening. One suggestion…I would leave off the “To Be Continued”. The piece is great just as it is. It starts off great and the way it ends is very powerful. Great job!
SilverDragon reviewed Version 1 -
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Keep in mind, I know nothing about journalism….I got confused a few times by your rambling. This piece feels more like half of a good conversation than an article. I did really enjoy it, and toatlly see your point. I think both my daughters should read it. Oh, and it’s nice to see good punctuation !
jadecat reviewed Version 1 -
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Brilliant, absolutely brilliant! Of course, I’m a mom so this really spoke to me, but I think non-mothers will find it interesting as well. You did such an admirable job of building up the suspense in your first paragraph. I didn’t even see it coming! :D Well-thought out and it held my interest. Looking forward to reading more.
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