Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.
There’s no compensating all your emotional toil through the years.
This mother’s day, I want to thank my mother as per usual norms. What’s different is that, I thank her for the unending hours of emotional labor she has put in through her adult life. Recently, while listening to the Dear Sugars episode on the theme of women’s unaccounted emotional labour, I realized why I sometimes experienced my mother as distant while I was a child/teenager.
I am a strong proponent of the fact that it takes a village to raise a child. That way, the child is exposed to a multitude of role models, even as their trust is embedded in a few caretakers. This appreciation of the community in a child’s development also comes from being raised by a single parent for a sizable number of my teenage years — my mother.
While I was growing up, my mother challenged many a norm through her life choices. In retrospect, some of the ways in which she rebelled were unplanned and rather reactive. Nevertheless, her love, nay — obsession, for living life on her own terms was inspirational (now you know where I get that penchant from). She would hate the empty advice that people would heap on her (on how to conduct herself, run the house, raise a child, work on her marriage, you name it!) — she wouldn’t even mince her words when telling them as much, before storming away or slamming the telephone. I wouldn’t describe it as a lack of tact — I would call it a low tolerance for hypocrisy and bullshit.
In contrast, if a friend of mine were to take a break from their marriage, especially with a child in tow, I know enough to approach him/her differently. I would ask them if they needed help finding a job, help find a nanny or offer to babysit the kid from time-to-time. I would send over food on the days they’re sick and overall, just help them get back on their feet. Simply because THAT’s the spirit of community — not calling someone at 7pm, at the end of a long working day, only to question if raising a child as a single parent was a good idea.
Heck, this is what I took away from reading Feminine Mystique! The woman happens to be an entity, an individual all on her own, with physical, emotional, and mental needs and aspirations. I’m not saying that my mother did EVERYTHING right; I’m saying it would have probably helped me if members of the community had supported her in a more, for lack of a better word, real way. It sure would have helped me to have a nice dinner with my mother, instead of having her fuming with disdain. Instead, she would often receive sermons on navigating experiences they had no experience in.
As someone in their mid-20s, living independently, I cannot imagine how I would have handled this constant barrage of negativity. Remember that my mother was not resorting to the bottle, or clinging to a doobie, or any other poison of her choice. She had a strict regimen on weekdays, which began with waking up around 5:30am, and continued with showering and getting ready for work, waking me up and making sure that I got ready for school, preparing breakfast, packing our lunches, AND readying a small snack/meal for me for when I returned from school. Once she returned home (~6pm), she would make dinner, plan for the next day, run errands as required, and watch some TV before hitting the sack. She did this for nearly 7 years, until I decided to move out for college. Not a single day, do I remember going without food, or have my basic needs neglected. My school uniforms were always ironed and laundry was never put away for another day. There was never a day when I would come back to a house that was in disarray. Her discipline and work ethic at home and outside was inspiring.
On her days off, she would even come to pick me up from school or attend parent-teacher meetings as required. I would be the first to admit that my mother had a tendency to come down harshly on me if I didn’t meet her exacting standards. But,in retrospect, she was, after all, running an elaborate, well-oiled machine! She may not have sat me down to have heart-to-heart chats about what my friends were saying or who was crushing on whom, but that woman had the perception of a bloodhound.
One afternoon, I came out of school, likely looking upset. My math teacher had slapped me for an indiscretion I did not commit, and even if I did, her reaction was extreme. Besides, is there any excuse for physical abuse and violence? My mother refused to leave the school grounds until I told her what had happened. In a fit of righteous rage, she pulled out her keys from the ignition and knocked on the Principal’s door with me in tow. I was nervous — I didn’t want to rile up a teacher whose brunt I had faced just earlier that day. But the Principal reassured my mother and me saying that the teacher’s behavior was indeed unacceptable, and that she would have a word with her. I remember that the teacher apologized to me the next day, making it in no way a less-awkward situation for me. But I learnt something that day — if something felt unjust, hurtful, or like a violation of personal boundaries, there was no reason to hesitate to ask the other person to ‘back off’.
Although I choose to live my life differently, I know that raising another young, helpless human being couldn’t have been easy at all. And for this, I salute my mother for having done an impeccable job.
On this Mother’s day, I promise to take a leaf out of her her book and conduct my own life and household with discipline and a no-bullshit policy: both lessons she taught me by living it. My thoughts are also with all the mothers and mother figures around the world who ‘are the list’.
