Mothers

Michele informed me this morning that I should write something about Mother's Day.  I asked her what exactly she had in mind, immediately feeling somewhat inadequate for the task (probably a latent function of having a Y chromosome).  She told me about a conversation that she had been having with some of the women at work about the "other side" of Mother's Day.  Being one that has an inherent resistance to holidays that are largely an invention of the shadowy guild alliance between florists, jewelers and greeting card companies, that sounded like a good idea... here goes.

Kevin Durant brought everyone to tears while accepting his award as the NBA's Most Valuable Player.  He spoke through some tears of his own about how his mother had been the "real MVP."  He talked about her sacrifice and the really tough road that she walked, raising two boys on the edge of poverty, keeping them safe, fed and off the streets.  It was a moment that, I suspect, everyone who is struggling through whatever trials child-rearing entails dreams about.  Here she is, watching her son who is on top of the world, immensely wealthy and recognized as one of the very best of the best, which would make any parent's heart swell with joy.  Then he takes it over the top and tells her that he recognizes that he wouldn't be where he was without her, she is appreciated, publicly, to a standing ovation of highly successful NBA players, executives and celebrities.
That is the dream.  And it would seem that she deserves that minute in the sun, most mothers do, and I do not argue the value of taking a minute to recognize them.  The challenge that has been given me by the mother of my children is to take a minute to consider the flip side of the coin.  What about the women who either cannot have children or the ones who feel no desire to do so?  What about the women who have complicated and/or destructive relationships with their own mothers, or their daughters?  What about the people who live with the reality of having been abandoned by their mothers?
These questions led me into a broader consideration of our valuation of women as members of our society.  Since the birth of my daughter eight years ago, I have been surprised to find myself being drawn to some rather feminist ideas.  I have begun to look at women's issues very differently as I watch my daughter grow into one.  I am thankful that we live in a time and a place in the world where she will not be treated as property or a pawn in some economic or political arrangement.  I am glad that she will have the right to vote and pursue almost any goal or dream that she might have.  But I already see the sinister limits that our world is already silently wrapping around her.  She already worries if she's pretty and if she's popular and if the right boy notices her.  She already thinks of her life in terms of growing up and having children, even though she's not even sure how that happens.
Don't get me wrong, if she grows up to be a mother, I will be happy for her, and I will love me some grandkids all up, but I don't want her to ever feel like that is necessary for her to be complete.  She already, I suspect, feels that her value is somehow attached to what boys (and other girls) think of her.  I don't see the same weight on my son, it's not that he doesn't care at all, it just doesn't hang on him as heavily.
This is where the feminist critique of our culture begins to seem more valuable to me than it did before.  I grew up with respect for my mother, I suppose I inherently valued her as a person, because of this, I sort of figured that the world treated women, more or less, with equality, because that's what I saw from my Dad and in the confines of our family.  Even as I began to see how things weren't always equitable, I figured it was okay, maybe women weren't exactly equal to men, but they were a heck of a lot better off than they used to be.  Until I had a daughter...
I know, I know, it took something that personally affected me to teach me to value women as inherently valuable human beings, shame on me for not being more sensitive and enlightened sooner.  Cut me some slack... it's that Y chromosome again... I get it now.
I want my daughter to be celebrated, whether she is a mother or not.  I want the world to know that her value is not at all hinged to her ability or desire to procreate, she is more than the transportation mechanism for a uterus.  I want her to grow into a woman who does not need a man to validate her existence.
Mothers are worth celebrating, but that is not the only identity that gives you value.
Life is complicated, and I have seen women who bore children and yet failed to be Mothers.  I have also seen those who could not or did not have children be the very paradigm of motherhood to many and varied "children."
Let's take a minute to remember the women who grieve for the children they will never have, and perhaps the ones they have lost.  Let's take a minute to remember people who cannot, in good conscience, celebrate the woman who gave birth to them.  Let Hallmark handle the sappy sentimentality.
I want my celebration of Mother's Day to include some element that might change the world that my daughter is going to live in.  So I'm thankful to my wife for challenging me to write this all out.  Thinking it through will make me a better father.
Happy Mother's Day Michele.