I'm Just a Mother?
author unknown
A few months ago, when I was picking up the children at
school, another
mother I knew well rushed up to me. Emily was fuming with indignation.
"Do you know what you and I are?" she demanded. Before I
could answer (and I didn't really have one handy) she blurted out the
reason for her question.
It
seemed she had just returned from renewing her driver's license at The
County Clerk's office. Asked by the woman recorder to state her
occupation, Emily had hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are
you just a.....?"
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother."
"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation...'housewife' covers
it," said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day found myself in
the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.
The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient,
and possessed of a high-sounding title like "Town Registrar" or
"Official Interrogator". "And what is your occupation?" she probed.
What
made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out. "I'm a
Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human
Relations."
The
clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though
she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the
most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pompous
pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official
questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what
you do in your field?"
Coolly,
without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have
a continuing program of research [what mother doesn't] in the
laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and
out). I'm working for my Masters (the whole darned family) and already
have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the
most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?) and I
often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it). But the job is more
challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are in
satisfaction rather than just money."
There
was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed
the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door. As I drove
into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted
by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new
experimental model (6 months) in the child-development program, testing
out a new vocal pattern. I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on
bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more
distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."
Motherhood...what a glorious career. Especially when there's
a title on the door.
Mother you know.
