Sitting in my office, with un-shed tears shining in her eyes, was this beautiful, hard working, and bright student, who said, "Dr. Priya, I have a five year old son, and it is so tough because I was studying yesterday and he wanted to spend time with me, and I kept saying, five more minutes..." This student is a full time employee, a full time mother, and just so happens to be a full time student as well. She wasn't complaining, no, rather she had approached me to get pointers on how to prepare for internships, and the conversation veered to struggles for carving out time.
Those tears in her eyes, tugged at my heart. I didn't just see her, but I saw in her my mother, who worked full time all the years that I was growing up. Even thirty some years later she has guilt for some innumerable oversights she remembers. I saw all those friends and colleagues of mine who work full time and do the best for their children, and can yet never seem to shake the guilt off of their shoulders. The guilt of not being able to spend another hour with the child every day, or the guilt of not being able to serve a three course dinner, or the guilt of missing a school recital, or that of not being able to make that important science project with their kid. Guilt for every time they were simply human. Growing up it seemed that the one defining emotion my mother always bore in her heart was this guilt. I don't think my father has guilt of any kind in his heart about missing any of my school plays. Chances are that he doesn't even remember he missed any! I still love him, and I still love my mother.
In fact, I would never have it any other way. Having grown up with a full time working mother has made me the person I am today, and I love her.
Mom, maybe I neglected to express to you what growing up with you did for me. So here it is. I learnt that a woman is more than a wife and a mother - I learnt that from watching you. I learnt that my identity can be carved by my intellect, my contribution to the society, my education, and my profession. I also learnt that I am actually independent and capable of not only taking care of myself, but also striking the fear of god in my siblings! I developed my love for books from all those trips to the college library, when there was no daycare and you took me to work with you! In a way, I learnt to be a better professor by watching you with your students. Most of all, I would never change a single day of interaction that you brought to the dinner table, because you saw the world in a different way, every day, than papa did. I grew up with two strong, independent, and brilliant individuals, who brought their work and their experiences home with them everyday, and made me yearn to, one day, be like them. I do not want to change a single day of my life with you. Well, except maybe that day when I wanted those blue earrings and you wouldn't let me buy them!
Some days, when I get ready for work, I see you in the mirror, the way you looked in the morning, getting ready for work. Some of my favorite memories are of sitting there on your bed, on Saturday mornings, watch you tie your sari and do your makeup for work.
Or the times when at the age of five, I would come home from school at one o'clock in the afternoon, and spend the next four hours alone at home waiting for you to come home. Now, these were the days before there was cable TV. These were the days when in India, you had only one channel, DD or Doordarshan, and they played chitrahar on Wednesday nights and a movie on Sunday nights. That's it. Hello! I had the most fun then. It was my own world, unfettered by what others might approve or disapprove of, unhindered by the imposition of appropriateness. I developed my skill for story telling and story writing in those four hours. I discovered that I had a talent for singing and developing plays. My success as a theater actress and director in later college years attests to that.
I am not writing to reminisce about my childhood, nor am I writing to put down stay-at-home moms. No, the whole point of the feminist movement was to help give the ability to women to choose their own path in life, and not feel guilty about it.
I am writing for my student. I am writing for all of my students who are working mothers and can't stop feeling guilty, for all of my friends who are full time working mothers and seem to make a profession of putting themselves down for missing something. Finally, I am writing for my mother.
Ladies, please pat your backs. I am not going to give you the standard, "You are doing the best..." line. No! The reality is you will not be there for every minute of your child's life as much as a stay at home mother might be able to. Despite all of your work and best intentions you will miss something. But you know what, that is okay. It is okay because you are giving your children a different childhood. A childhood that will show them what being a strong, independent and accomplished person means. That will teach them, like no other life lesson, that men and women are equals. That will make your children stronger than you can imagine and give them a world view and exposure that they might never have had otherwise.
So please, all of you working mothers, stop feeling guilty, if only for a few hours. You too Mom!!
Those tears in her eyes, tugged at my heart. I didn't just see her, but I saw in her my mother, who worked full time all the years that I was growing up. Even thirty some years later she has guilt for some innumerable oversights she remembers. I saw all those friends and colleagues of mine who work full time and do the best for their children, and can yet never seem to shake the guilt off of their shoulders. The guilt of not being able to spend another hour with the child every day, or the guilt of not being able to serve a three course dinner, or the guilt of missing a school recital, or that of not being able to make that important science project with their kid. Guilt for every time they were simply human. Growing up it seemed that the one defining emotion my mother always bore in her heart was this guilt. I don't think my father has guilt of any kind in his heart about missing any of my school plays. Chances are that he doesn't even remember he missed any! I still love him, and I still love my mother.
In fact, I would never have it any other way. Having grown up with a full time working mother has made me the person I am today, and I love her.
Mom, maybe I neglected to express to you what growing up with you did for me. So here it is. I learnt that a woman is more than a wife and a mother - I learnt that from watching you. I learnt that my identity can be carved by my intellect, my contribution to the society, my education, and my profession. I also learnt that I am actually independent and capable of not only taking care of myself, but also striking the fear of god in my siblings! I developed my love for books from all those trips to the college library, when there was no daycare and you took me to work with you! In a way, I learnt to be a better professor by watching you with your students. Most of all, I would never change a single day of interaction that you brought to the dinner table, because you saw the world in a different way, every day, than papa did. I grew up with two strong, independent, and brilliant individuals, who brought their work and their experiences home with them everyday, and made me yearn to, one day, be like them. I do not want to change a single day of my life with you. Well, except maybe that day when I wanted those blue earrings and you wouldn't let me buy them!
Some days, when I get ready for work, I see you in the mirror, the way you looked in the morning, getting ready for work. Some of my favorite memories are of sitting there on your bed, on Saturday mornings, watch you tie your sari and do your makeup for work.
Or the times when at the age of five, I would come home from school at one o'clock in the afternoon, and spend the next four hours alone at home waiting for you to come home. Now, these were the days before there was cable TV. These were the days when in India, you had only one channel, DD or Doordarshan, and they played chitrahar on Wednesday nights and a movie on Sunday nights. That's it. Hello! I had the most fun then. It was my own world, unfettered by what others might approve or disapprove of, unhindered by the imposition of appropriateness. I developed my skill for story telling and story writing in those four hours. I discovered that I had a talent for singing and developing plays. My success as a theater actress and director in later college years attests to that.
I am not writing to reminisce about my childhood, nor am I writing to put down stay-at-home moms. No, the whole point of the feminist movement was to help give the ability to women to choose their own path in life, and not feel guilty about it.
I am writing for my student. I am writing for all of my students who are working mothers and can't stop feeling guilty, for all of my friends who are full time working mothers and seem to make a profession of putting themselves down for missing something. Finally, I am writing for my mother.
Ladies, please pat your backs. I am not going to give you the standard, "You are doing the best..." line. No! The reality is you will not be there for every minute of your child's life as much as a stay at home mother might be able to. Despite all of your work and best intentions you will miss something. But you know what, that is okay. It is okay because you are giving your children a different childhood. A childhood that will show them what being a strong, independent and accomplished person means. That will teach them, like no other life lesson, that men and women are equals. That will make your children stronger than you can imagine and give them a world view and exposure that they might never have had otherwise.
So please, all of you working mothers, stop feeling guilty, if only for a few hours. You too Mom!!
