Mother Reclassification

"Mother Reclassification"

A woman renewing her driver's license at the County
Clerk's office was 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 I 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 "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"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 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 more of a 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.

Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research
Associates in the Field of Child Development and
Human Relations", and great - grandmothers
"Executive Senior Research Associates"? I think so!

I also think it makes aunts "Associate Research
Assistants!"
Received on Sun May 8 09:17:55 2005