I succeeded in finding a new blog name that satisfies me without having to confront the identity crisis. Being a native of the Pacific Northwest, I figure I can claim that moniker. And since I spend about 75% of my life determining just how much rain we can all manage for outdoor activities and 25% of it soaking up the sun while it lasts, I'll grab the rainy theme.
My quest for a new blog name has only focused me on the fact that six years into this mothering thing, I still find myself adrift on the sea of identity crisis. It's really my feminist ideals which are in crisis. Here I am, homeschooling my three children, relying on my husband for our income, and carrying the lion's share of what is traditionally known as "women's work." And I choose this life.
My feminist ideals are in conflict over this choice. I am making the choice to live this way - that is certain. Feminist ideals validated. Yet, I am choosing to opt out of the profession I am trained for and to only very peripherally participate in a new career, which does not bring me any economic power. Feminist values disappointed.
I can trace back along my path and find the points where I took a turn. No doubt it began when I couldn't reconcile my parenting choices with my legal career, and then again when I couldn't reconcile my parenting choices with my nonprofit management career. So, one could argue that my parenting choices are to blame.
But I argue that my parenting choices are frustratingly inconsistent with the business world primarily because men run the business world.
And they seek to continue controlling it. I am still sore about the race for the Democratic presidential nominee because I think that Senator Clinton was treated unfairly in the media and in other venues. Not that I can complain about Senator Obama's candidacy. It's a far sight better than the alternatives. But I just can't get over my frustration about the unfair treatment of the only woman in the race.
I posit that the most socially acceptable discrimination these days is that based on gender. Yet, I find myself unable to convince most of my friends that women are still all downtrodden and in need of a leg up. I lamented about this to a friend the other day, who reminded me that we all have grown up in a time when we have experienced academic equality. Well, I don't completely buy it. But I can say that the gender barriers in academic life are far less obvious than they were in the past. Which only makes the smack in the fact of barriers related to gender in the workplace all the more a surprise.
Still, the fact is that most people who are able to make my parenting choices have also opted out. I find that I spend a lot of time with really talented, wise, educated women who are also choosing to put their professional lives on the back burner, with their children taking far more of their focus. And while most of those women don't recognize any gender barriers in their lives, I think that most of their lives (and mine) are very much shaped by those barriers because if they could parent the way they wished and still have the professional lives they are capable of enjoying, they just might chose to do that.
Of course, opting out has actually been good for me. I love writing professionally and I intend to do more of it as my kids grow older. I never would have chosen to parent three kids if I hadn't opted out. And I can't imagine my life without any of them - they each bring such a unique joy to our family. I bask in the pleasure of homeschooling more frequently than I cringe under its weight. I am profoundly grateful for every cosleeping, breastfeeding, emotional-coaching, alternative parenting moment. Somehow I don't think I would feel as grateful for the chance to argue with other lawyers for the past six years. Okay, I would be really grateful for the income from all of the arguing. But when it comes to the other rewards, I am far ahead at this point.
If only I could reconcile it all with my feminist values. Oh, who am I kidding? I don't get enough sleep to actually reconcile anything at this point.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Hear, hear. I am often afraid to think too much about this for fear I will become completely neurotic.
And don't touch the question of what adult roles I am modeling for my daughter - it may well scramble my brain.
Post a Comment