A while back I stumbled across this blog post about the proverbial woman. She is a woman I have generally disliked, associating her with flower print dresses with white socks and general niceness. I am a cranky person; I do not mix well with nice. And I am a feminist (so take that flower-dress lady)! But this post was by somebody whose writing I respect, who appears to have a strong, clear head on her shoulders and sound theology. So, I started thinking and reflecting on myself and what does it mean to me to be a mother, wife and feminist (can those things coexist in a christian culture?).
For the past year or so I have been itching to move out of our little house. It’s tiny, we both need work spaces and we all like to have a little quiet space. We also have a lot of junk that is homeless. It’s crowded and cluttered (did I mention small?) and it just doesn’t feel homey. One day on a walk to the coffee house, I passed the perfect “grow into” home for us. 4 bedrooms, 2 1/2 floors, 2 car garage, basement, hard wood floors, a porch, urban living, great neighborhood, blah, blah, blah. $289,000.00. I started lusting. I started praying, “God if you wanted us to have that house, you could make it happen!” And one day as I was walking past the same house for the hundredth time (in two weeks!) I realized that I was so completely spoiled. We have a good home. By our standards, we live pretty luxuriously. The problem was not with our house but within me. I realized that I had no respect for my house. It was not home because I had not made it home.
I grew up in a family that divided all household chores. Everyone took a turn at everything; we lived communally. My husband did not. My expectations of married life (clearly stated BEFORE marriage) were that dh would learn to do chores and that we would divide them (except the cooking because, honestly, I like my food!). This is not my reality. My reality is that my husband has no interest in anything domestic. I really do think that he could live with stuff piled high in columns around him so long as he could reach the computer, toilet and food! And his movies, of course! But I do enjoy domestic life. Not just the nostalgic domesticity (canning, crafting, etc) but day-to-day maintenance of a home. I enjoy a tidy well-organized home (without clutter and without homeless STUFF). That said, there is no place for the enjoyment of homemaking within a feminist spectrum. So, I find myself beginning to feel ashamed of admitting that I enjoy keeping house; that it challenges me and that it blesses my family. And I believe those to be good things.
Where does this get me? I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling God working in my heart a lot as I consider the enormous blessings of our lives. And I am forced to admit that I have been neglectful of those blessing. No, I have been contemptuous of those blessings, allowing myself to slip into a model of “gimme, gimme. gimme.” So, I am trying to struggle through reconciling respect for and stewardship of the gifts in our life and the ideals I thought I carried. I think my ideals are in the process of being overthrown.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Who am I?
I was posed this question on an online community that I participate in. It led to this introspection, something that has been on my mind a lot recently as I struggle to understand what the different strands of my heritage mean to me.
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Who am I? When I look in the mirror I see me. I see my faults (bags under my eyes, dry skin, eyes a little crooked, teeth a little yellow and so on all the way down to my toes) and I see some nice things (strength, some sort of beauty, intelligence). Describing myself in terms of community, race and culture has always been difficult for me. I am a broken follower of Christ; I am a mother, wife, sister, daughter. I am crunchy, intelligent, passionate. I am an artist and a teacher. I am very active in communities for each of these parts of me.
Racially, bureaucratically I am caucasian, but I’ve never really understood what this means. Culturally I have never fully identified with American whiteness with mixed white roots reaching way back. Only one of my grandparents is American-born and only one of her parents is American-born with the typical haberdashery background. I was raised by a Scot who grew up with a Yoruba tribe in Nigeria. From Nigeria he was uprooted and transplanted into New Orleans in the early '60's. I was also raised by a Welsh-American who is culturally more French than American. Neither of my parents is comfortable with their own American cultural history often disparaging of it, always awkward in it.
My parents straddled two cultural worlds in their childhoods as did I. We were dirt poor, often eating beans for months and spending weeks using the toilets at the library, pool and friends houses. I am well educated by learned parents. I was homeschooled back when it was very uncool and usually meant you were a freaky christian. We were culturally middle class in education and speech but we lived in a very poor, very urban environment. I learned to identify guns from the gunshots and estimate how close they were. I learned to hit the floor when they were too close. And few of my middle class white friends were allowed to play at my house. We were the only white family on our street. I learned to speak essentially in two different languages: one for my middle class white friends and one for my neighborhood friends. And as a child, I was allowed to speak "black" but in junior high that was no longer acceptable to anyone. I was white and should stay in that box. This was exceedingly painful. I didn't understand that rejection and I still struggle with it.
I am fiercely proud of my cultural heritage. I cringe when people comment on ds's "Irish red hair" when he is most definitely Scottish! I loved living in France and connecting with my mother's friends, family and culture. I am eager to speak to other Nigerians to learn about my father's home country and people. I am proud that my white Scottish grandparents were so embraced and respected by the tribe they lived with that they were made a part of the Yoruba family. My grandparents were Yoruba, my father is Yoruba, I am Yoruba. But this also confuses me. Race is so divisive here that I also feel deep shame over this history. I feel that I cannot acknowledge my own African history because that is only viable if your skin is dark brown. I cannot recall my childhood days without being perceived as patronizing and ultimately racist.
Thinking through this has been painful for me, much more so than I thought it would be. The different strands of my cultural heritage have left me feeling wounded, confused and sometimes bitter. I often feel rejected by all the parts of my cultural whole: I am not Scottish, I am not French, I am not Yoruba, I am not middle class, I am not poor. I do not fit any of the boxes but I partially fit them all. I do not know where that leaves me.
--------------------------
Who am I? When I look in the mirror I see me. I see my faults (bags under my eyes, dry skin, eyes a little crooked, teeth a little yellow and so on all the way down to my toes) and I see some nice things (strength, some sort of beauty, intelligence). Describing myself in terms of community, race and culture has always been difficult for me. I am a broken follower of Christ; I am a mother, wife, sister, daughter. I am crunchy, intelligent, passionate. I am an artist and a teacher. I am very active in communities for each of these parts of me.
Racially, bureaucratically I am caucasian, but I’ve never really understood what this means. Culturally I have never fully identified with American whiteness with mixed white roots reaching way back. Only one of my grandparents is American-born and only one of her parents is American-born with the typical haberdashery background. I was raised by a Scot who grew up with a Yoruba tribe in Nigeria. From Nigeria he was uprooted and transplanted into New Orleans in the early '60's. I was also raised by a Welsh-American who is culturally more French than American. Neither of my parents is comfortable with their own American cultural history often disparaging of it, always awkward in it.
My parents straddled two cultural worlds in their childhoods as did I. We were dirt poor, often eating beans for months and spending weeks using the toilets at the library, pool and friends houses. I am well educated by learned parents. I was homeschooled back when it was very uncool and usually meant you were a freaky christian. We were culturally middle class in education and speech but we lived in a very poor, very urban environment. I learned to identify guns from the gunshots and estimate how close they were. I learned to hit the floor when they were too close. And few of my middle class white friends were allowed to play at my house. We were the only white family on our street. I learned to speak essentially in two different languages: one for my middle class white friends and one for my neighborhood friends. And as a child, I was allowed to speak "black" but in junior high that was no longer acceptable to anyone. I was white and should stay in that box. This was exceedingly painful. I didn't understand that rejection and I still struggle with it.
I am fiercely proud of my cultural heritage. I cringe when people comment on ds's "Irish red hair" when he is most definitely Scottish! I loved living in France and connecting with my mother's friends, family and culture. I am eager to speak to other Nigerians to learn about my father's home country and people. I am proud that my white Scottish grandparents were so embraced and respected by the tribe they lived with that they were made a part of the Yoruba family. My grandparents were Yoruba, my father is Yoruba, I am Yoruba. But this also confuses me. Race is so divisive here that I also feel deep shame over this history. I feel that I cannot acknowledge my own African history because that is only viable if your skin is dark brown. I cannot recall my childhood days without being perceived as patronizing and ultimately racist.
Thinking through this has been painful for me, much more so than I thought it would be. The different strands of my cultural heritage have left me feeling wounded, confused and sometimes bitter. I often feel rejected by all the parts of my cultural whole: I am not Scottish, I am not French, I am not Yoruba, I am not middle class, I am not poor. I do not fit any of the boxes but I partially fit them all. I do not know where that leaves me.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Parenting and expectations
I've been thinking a lot about the expectations that we set for our children. I am wondering if as a general rule we set them too low. Let me give a bit of background by saying that I associate myself most strongly with the "attachment" style of parenting (AP). I believe in creating a strong relational bond with a child from infancy and in gentle discipline with the focus on grace and mercy over punishment. That said, I also believe that as parents it is our God given responsibility to our children to guide, instruct, set and enforce boundaries. So, what does that mean in practical terms? I'm still working this out. I hope to constantly be working this out because, whatever else, parenting should be flexible and responsive. Attachment parenting is pretty darn easy through infancy. You sling the baby, nurse the baby, sleep with baby and respond to the baby. You're good. But as your child moves into toddlerhood, they begin to test those boundaries. That's good and normal. I've been trying to reconcile myself with what sometimes appear to be conflicting theories regarding parenting. How can one be gentle but strict about enforcing the boundaries? Because I do believe that a child needs that consistent response to the testing of the waters and I sometimes think that attachment parenting and gentle discipline theories are short on the practical application. How does one find the balance between being responsive to the child's needs and guiding the child? My problem with absolute child-led parenting is that a child is a child. Which is part of the argument behind AP, age-appropriate responses and expectations. Which leads me to my present quandary.
We've begun potty training (another issue just in that: potty learning vs potty training?!?!? Is no one familiar with the idea that training is not always negative? Is training not a way of teaching one's mind and body through intense application? I don't get it.). At any rate, we've begun potty training by means of elimination communication (EC) techniques and routine. D is just now 17 months old and by general sentiment he is either too young or too old to learn to eliminate in the potty. But he is. And he is very proud of himself for doing so. And this is where my question stems from: do we set our expectations for our children too low? By most AP standards (not EC) I'm not following the child's lead with this and am therefore undermining him. But, if I had waited for him to show "readiness signs" for pottying, we may never have begun this process. So here we are with a very proud little boy who has begun to ask to use the potty one week into potty learning. I realized that my expectations of him were definitely too low. As I think of child-led parenting practices, I wonder if low expectations are often at the root. We don't really expect our children to obey when we set a rule so we become wishy-washy on the enforcement of the rule. This seems to me a major difference between my more mainstream friends and their discipline approach and my more AP friends.
Today when I was discussing this idea with some mommy friends of mine, they pointed out that I've been looking at this whole problem from a very human perspective. God does not always define grace and mercy in the way we want it to be. Sometimes, grace and mercy are allowing the full consequences of something to come down on us. In this way, in His infinite mercy, He teaches us about ourselves. I have certainly been taught much about my own broken self this way. I needed this gentle reminder that my parenting role model is to be my Heavenly Papa first and foremost.
We've begun potty training (another issue just in that: potty learning vs potty training?!?!? Is no one familiar with the idea that training is not always negative? Is training not a way of teaching one's mind and body through intense application? I don't get it.). At any rate, we've begun potty training by means of elimination communication (EC) techniques and routine. D is just now 17 months old and by general sentiment he is either too young or too old to learn to eliminate in the potty. But he is. And he is very proud of himself for doing so. And this is where my question stems from: do we set our expectations for our children too low? By most AP standards (not EC) I'm not following the child's lead with this and am therefore undermining him. But, if I had waited for him to show "readiness signs" for pottying, we may never have begun this process. So here we are with a very proud little boy who has begun to ask to use the potty one week into potty learning. I realized that my expectations of him were definitely too low. As I think of child-led parenting practices, I wonder if low expectations are often at the root. We don't really expect our children to obey when we set a rule so we become wishy-washy on the enforcement of the rule. This seems to me a major difference between my more mainstream friends and their discipline approach and my more AP friends.
Today when I was discussing this idea with some mommy friends of mine, they pointed out that I've been looking at this whole problem from a very human perspective. God does not always define grace and mercy in the way we want it to be. Sometimes, grace and mercy are allowing the full consequences of something to come down on us. In this way, in His infinite mercy, He teaches us about ourselves. I have certainly been taught much about my own broken self this way. I needed this gentle reminder that my parenting role model is to be my Heavenly Papa first and foremost.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Beauty and that elusive, oh-so perfect body
I find myself sometimes watching other women, usually young and generally childless. I watch the way their clothes hang on their bodies and notice that when they move nothing jiggles. No arm fat hangs down and there is nothing like cellulite or softness anywhere near their stomachs or hips. I lust. I envy. I chide myself. My mind rapidly runs from the top of my head down to my toes, carefully and brutally taking inventory of my faults. My hair is brittle and frizzy but remains dreadfully straight, almost stringy, my teeth are yellow and crooked, my nose is pointy, one eye is higher than the other, my arms are fat, my breasts hang low and are too large, my stomach bulges and rolls and squishes, my hips are too wide, my bottom too flat, my thighs are lumpy yet soft, my calves are hairy, my feet are dry. No one else has these problems. When I look, they look good. I can only see perfection through my green lens.
I do not visit the gym. This is a source of guilt. I do not work out. I sometimes eat ice cream or chocolate cake or even oreo cookies. But I walk a lot, almost everyday, I tell myself. And I cook most of our food from scratch and it is mostly organic and is all natural. And I am very active. I whisper to myself: I dance, I chase my baby, I garden. Oh yeah, and I'm still nursing a lot. Doesn't that count? But it is never enough. The thin girls win. I can never again have that pre-pubescent child's body. My body is that of a woman and I cannot revel in that. I cannot enjoy the fact that my body grew a child. My body delivered this child with no assistance. My body nourishes this child. I cannot celebrate my body's strength. I cannot celebrate my womanliness. I cannot find it sexy. There is something very wrong with my mind. My body is strong and healthy but my mind tells me this is not true. My mind sees faults and ugliness. My mind is wrong but I cannot make it know that.
But isn't this what every women thinks? Who was it who told us that we cannot be women? Why do we give them this power? Why do we continue to give them this power even when we recognize this problem? Why do we beat ourselves up trying to turn back our bodies to our childhood days... and why do we accept that a child's body is sexier than a woman's body? There is something very sick about that.
I do not visit the gym. This is a source of guilt. I do not work out. I sometimes eat ice cream or chocolate cake or even oreo cookies. But I walk a lot, almost everyday, I tell myself. And I cook most of our food from scratch and it is mostly organic and is all natural. And I am very active. I whisper to myself: I dance, I chase my baby, I garden. Oh yeah, and I'm still nursing a lot. Doesn't that count? But it is never enough. The thin girls win. I can never again have that pre-pubescent child's body. My body is that of a woman and I cannot revel in that. I cannot enjoy the fact that my body grew a child. My body delivered this child with no assistance. My body nourishes this child. I cannot celebrate my body's strength. I cannot celebrate my womanliness. I cannot find it sexy. There is something very wrong with my mind. My body is strong and healthy but my mind tells me this is not true. My mind sees faults and ugliness. My mind is wrong but I cannot make it know that.
But isn't this what every women thinks? Who was it who told us that we cannot be women? Why do we give them this power? Why do we continue to give them this power even when we recognize this problem? Why do we beat ourselves up trying to turn back our bodies to our childhood days... and why do we accept that a child's body is sexier than a woman's body? There is something very sick about that.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Breastfeeding discrimination
I just came across this blog about a daycare center in Ohio called CityKids. Now, this just p*sses me off in a big way. Am I crazy or does charging an extra $50/wk for "handling" the oh-so-hazardous and complicated breastmilk seem like a scam. Seriously, you keep it in the fridge or freezer. You stick it hot water. You feed it to the baby. Unlike formula which you must measure out the formula, mix it with water, heat it up (unless it's premixed then you have to refrigerate it and then heat it up), and NOW you can feed the baby. And, according to the above link, day cares have to then sterilise everything that the formula came into contact with: bottles, nipples, etc. Just a few extra steps. Plus the American Academy of Pediatricians is now recommending reverse osmosis filtered water ONLY for formula. Whatever, my point is it is not that complicated or demanding to store and heat a bottle of breastmilk.
So many women struggle to establish their nursing relationships in the first place. Then they have to go back to work and fight to keep their supply up while pumping in storage closets or bathrooms while their child is in daycare. All of this to just do what is normal and right for their children. And then some paranoid ass comes along and decides crap like this. Honestly I don't even have words for how stupid this is and how angry it makes me. What is WRONG with our cultural that feeding our children the way God designed it and intended it is so freaking hard! I get so sick of this underlying attitude that somehow feeding our children with the milk that is made FOR them and only them is creepy.
I could go on and on and on about this but at the risk of a burst blood vessel, I will stop here. Please, dear reader, even if you don't read the link at least take the time to consider what your own attitudes are towards breastfeeding.
So many women struggle to establish their nursing relationships in the first place. Then they have to go back to work and fight to keep their supply up while pumping in storage closets or bathrooms while their child is in daycare. All of this to just do what is normal and right for their children. And then some paranoid ass comes along and decides crap like this. Honestly I don't even have words for how stupid this is and how angry it makes me. What is WRONG with our cultural that feeding our children the way God designed it and intended it is so freaking hard! I get so sick of this underlying attitude that somehow feeding our children with the milk that is made FOR them and only them is creepy.
I could go on and on and on about this but at the risk of a burst blood vessel, I will stop here. Please, dear reader, even if you don't read the link at least take the time to consider what your own attitudes are towards breastfeeding.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Magical play and wild days
It's been rather snowy and cold here this week so we've been a little stir crazy. My sister in law sent me this site and it's full of fun ideas. It's helpful just to be reminded that childhood itself is magic. Sometimes I get frustrated being cooped up doing the same old things over and over and over (Mr Brown Can Moo, Can You?)! There are some simple silly ideas here, reminding me why unschooling and free play are so important to me.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
My All Natural Body: round and loving it (or trying to!)
About 9 months or so ago I made the switch away from using traditional body care products. Part of the motivation for this was anti-consumerist/anti-beauty industry; partly it was health concerns/eco-consciousness; partly it was frugality. Much of my artwork has been critical of consumerism and advertising and the beauty industry. These things make me sick in a lot of ways, but especially when I look at the far-reaching effects they have on our culture and society. And especially when I am walking through the little girls section of Target or wandering around campus. I am always striving to fight against the seduction of advertisements and the lustful desires they seek to create within me. Sometimes I am successful. More often, I have to fight to keep my brain active and conscious and to stifle the unnecessary want. (On a side note, I've been working very hard at distinguishing between want & need... a much more difficult exercise than one might think!). And honestly, as a public we seem to be determined to keep our heads in the sand, ready to accept what someone has told us that we want (not need, need is rarely brought up in advertising because it reminds of poverty). We appear satisfied to pay the highest price for the lowest quality in order to maintain whatever image is most popular. We are happy to do it. In choosing to wash my hair using baking soda and apple cider vinegar and to wash my face with honey (raw, local honey!) I am refusing to accept what some unknown corporate entity has determined I desire. I am agreeing to (try) and accept who God made me and the beauty with which He endowed me. I am refusing to line the pockets of anyone who perpetuates an unreal standard of beauty.
I am also trying to honor the body given me by treating it as kindly as I can. A lot of the ingredients that are poured into the products we use are very unhealthy even toxic. Parabens and sodium lauryl/laureth sulfates are among the most common of the nasty ingredients (to learn more about ingredients that may be in your specific products, go here). The goal of using these ingredients is to fill the products with inexpensive ingredients (often while marketing using the more expensive ingredients: lavender, oatmeal, shea butter, etc) thus keeping the cost of the product low. Honestly, though, even if many of these ingredients weren't questionable I would still be doing what I am. Even the purest of the mainstream products tends to be rather harsh and overkill for what our bodies need. And, let's face it, I enjoy being nonconformist!
So, what is it I do exactly? How does one wash with baking soda? It's actually pretty easy! The goal is allow your body's chemistry balance out with the belief that, if you are in good health, it will be what it needs to be.
Shampooing the No-Poo Way
disclaimer: this is very much a personalized thing. below is a good starting point, but it takes a bit of time and patience and experimentation to find exactly what will work for you! There is also a normal de-tox period where your scalp will continue to over-produce oils like it does for commercial shampoos/conditioners.
1)First, comb/brush your hair well. This loosens up the dirt and grease in your hair.
2)Then I take 2 Tbs of baking soda and dissolve it in about 16 oz of warm water. (The basic ratio is 1 Tbs/8 oz water-if you need more for long hair or really dirty hair, maintain the proportions and double the recipe or wash twice. Too much baking soda will cause your hair to dry out and matte together).
3)In the shower, I part my hair into 4 (2 down and 2 across). I pour about half of this mixture onto the part lines and work it in. No-poo is like a good scalp massage. You cannot do this without it and just rubbing your fingers into your hair will not suffice. I start at the crown and massage out and down a couple of times. The idea is to massage into my scalp the baking soda. Then I pour the rest of the solution from my hair-line down to the rest of my hair (looking up). I work this is in the same way.
4)I let the baking soda sit while I wash my face. This is pretty simple too: just take a glob of honey and massage it in. Let it work a moment, then rinse.
5)Rinse, rinse rinse! And I rub my fingers through my scalp again to be sure I've rinsed well.
6)Condition: I mix roughly 1 Tbs of apple cider vinegar with 16 oz of water. I pour most of this on from the ears down, reserving about 1/4 to pour from the hair line down. The vinegar restores the pH of your hair and makes it nice and shiny! Then I rinse well.
Review:
scrub, scrub with baking soda solution, rinse, rinse with apple cider vinegar, rinse! Presto, beautiful hair!
This is so simple and so frugal! I spent $4 on my 5lb bag of baking soda at costco and roughly $5 on my 16 0z jar of vinegar (I use Bragg's Organic Raw Unfiltered). These last me for months and months and months and months and so on!
I am also trying to honor the body given me by treating it as kindly as I can. A lot of the ingredients that are poured into the products we use are very unhealthy even toxic. Parabens and sodium lauryl/laureth sulfates are among the most common of the nasty ingredients (to learn more about ingredients that may be in your specific products, go here). The goal of using these ingredients is to fill the products with inexpensive ingredients (often while marketing using the more expensive ingredients: lavender, oatmeal, shea butter, etc) thus keeping the cost of the product low. Honestly, though, even if many of these ingredients weren't questionable I would still be doing what I am. Even the purest of the mainstream products tends to be rather harsh and overkill for what our bodies need. And, let's face it, I enjoy being nonconformist!
So, what is it I do exactly? How does one wash with baking soda? It's actually pretty easy! The goal is allow your body's chemistry balance out with the belief that, if you are in good health, it will be what it needs to be.
Shampooing the No-Poo Way
disclaimer: this is very much a personalized thing. below is a good starting point, but it takes a bit of time and patience and experimentation to find exactly what will work for you! There is also a normal de-tox period where your scalp will continue to over-produce oils like it does for commercial shampoos/conditioners.
1)First, comb/brush your hair well. This loosens up the dirt and grease in your hair.
2)Then I take 2 Tbs of baking soda and dissolve it in about 16 oz of warm water. (The basic ratio is 1 Tbs/8 oz water-if you need more for long hair or really dirty hair, maintain the proportions and double the recipe or wash twice. Too much baking soda will cause your hair to dry out and matte together).
3)In the shower, I part my hair into 4 (2 down and 2 across). I pour about half of this mixture onto the part lines and work it in. No-poo is like a good scalp massage. You cannot do this without it and just rubbing your fingers into your hair will not suffice. I start at the crown and massage out and down a couple of times. The idea is to massage into my scalp the baking soda. Then I pour the rest of the solution from my hair-line down to the rest of my hair (looking up). I work this is in the same way.
4)I let the baking soda sit while I wash my face. This is pretty simple too: just take a glob of honey and massage it in. Let it work a moment, then rinse.
5)Rinse, rinse rinse! And I rub my fingers through my scalp again to be sure I've rinsed well.
6)Condition: I mix roughly 1 Tbs of apple cider vinegar with 16 oz of water. I pour most of this on from the ears down, reserving about 1/4 to pour from the hair line down. The vinegar restores the pH of your hair and makes it nice and shiny! Then I rinse well.
Review:
scrub, scrub with baking soda solution, rinse, rinse with apple cider vinegar, rinse! Presto, beautiful hair!
This is so simple and so frugal! I spent $4 on my 5lb bag of baking soda at costco and roughly $5 on my 16 0z jar of vinegar (I use Bragg's Organic Raw Unfiltered). These last me for months and months and months and months and so on!
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