Subject: I'm Just A Mother
From: Unicorn (unicorn@indenial.com)
Date: Sun May 12 2002 - 09:54:10 EDT
"I'm Just A Mother"
A few months ago, when I was picking up the children
at school, another mother I knew well rushed up to me.
She was fuming with indignation. "Do you know what
you and I are?" she demanded. Before I could answer
and I didn't have one really handy - she blurted out the
reason for her question.
It seemed she had just returned from renewing her
drivers license at the County Clerks office. She was
asked by the woman recorder to state her "occupation,"
my friend 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 my friend. "I'm a Mother!" "We do not list 'mother'
as an occupation...... 'housewife' covers it" said the
recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in
the same situation, this time at our Town Hall. The clerk
was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and
possessed of a high-sounding title, like "Official
Interrogator" or "Town Registrar." "And what is your
occupation?" she probed. What made me say it, I don't
know. The simple popped out. "I'm.......a Research
Associate in the field of Child Development and Human
Relations." The clerk paused, pen in frozen in mid-air,
and looked up as though she had not heard me right. I
repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the significant words.
Then I stared at 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 and 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 of
the 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. And upstairs, I could hear our new
experimental model (six 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 down
on the official records as someone more distinguished and
indispensable to mankind than "just another......."
Home... what a glorious career. Especially when there is
a title on the door.
LadyHawke's Introduction Copyright
and Compilation Rights © 1996 - 2002
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