Categories
Fulfillment

Do moms deserve others’ respect? From the archives

I was looking for Rebecca’s first birthday post and I came across this in the archives. I had completely forgotten it, so I figured I wasn’t the only one.

Earlier this month, I posted an excerpt of a column by Mary Ann Miller. Though it was written decades ago, it still rings true, especially when she said, “It’s true that modern ideology still advocates free choice, but somehow the choice of full-time homemaker doesn’t garner the same respect and interest as choosing to be an astronaut.”

One commenter took issue with this statement:

And what sort of respect and admiration do you expect to get when the ones to benefit from the choice you made are your immediate family, as compared to someone whose choices benefit many hundreds of people? In other words, if your choice is to be a full-time mother, you can expect to receive the respect and admiration of your family because they are the ones who benefit, but why would you expect to receive any acknowledgement from other people who gain nothing from your choice? If your choice is to be an astronaut, you can expect to receive the respect and admiration of everyone whose life your work touches.

I responded in the comments there, but the more I think about this, the more this type of thinking bothers me. Let’s set aside how very ego-centric it is to only respect those who do something to directly benefit your life. Let’s look at the standard here—and I’m not trying to pick on this commentator, but using this comment to illustrate a pervasive, destructive thought pattern that undermines mothers.

Here’s our logic:

  • Astronauts can expect to receive the respect and admiration of everyone whose life their work touches.
  • Mothers can expect to receive the respect and admiration of only their children and husbands.

Seeing it yet?

In this line of thinking, a mother can only receive respect from someone who she works with directly, her immediate family. An astronaut, on the other hand, can “expect” to receive admiration from “many hundreds of people,” who benefit from her work (and here’s a niggling point: this argument says astronauts should get respect for everything anyone in their profession has contributed to society—but not so for mothers).

So what, exactly might that benefit be? Can you name one thing an astronaut has done to make your life better?

Now name one thing your mother did to make your life better.

Now name one thing her mother did to make your life better. A friend’s mother. Your child’s friend’s mother. Another mom in your neighborhood.

So why is it that a mother can only receive respect from the people she serves directly, but an astronaut can receive respect for all of her colleagues’ collective contributions to society? Why can’t we take mothers as a force, too?

Mothers do not only benefit their own families. Having a mother at home can benefit the neighborhood—mothers can touch the lives of their children’s friends—mothers can influence generations. An astronaut doesn’t teach children to get along, to share, to read, to write, to sing, to love, to laugh, to live. We influence our children, and through them, all they come in contact with for the rest of their lives. A mother is the most influential career any of us could have.

globeOr, as G.K. Chesterton put it in his “guest post” here:

How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the Universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone?

So yes, I suppose I do agree that all mothers deserve the respect of those who have benefit from any one mother’s time, effort, talents, love. Has your life benefited from any nurturing woman?

Originally posted 27 August 2009

Photo credits: astronaut—Brian Talbot; globe—Sanja Gjenero

Categories
Fulfillment

Do moms deserve others’ respect?

Earlier this month, I posted an excerpt of a column by Mary Ann Miller. Though it was written decades ago, it still rings true, especially when she said, “It’s true that modern ideology still advocates free choice, but somehow the choice of full-time homemaker doesn’t garner the same respect and interest as choosing to be an astronaut.”

One commenter took issue with this statement:

And what sort of respect and admiration do you expect to get when the ones to benefit from the choice you made are your immediate family, as compared to someone whose choices benefit many hundreds of people? In other words, if your choice is to be a full-time mother, you can expect to receive the respect and admiration of your family because they are the ones who benefit, but why would you expect to receive any acknowledgement from other people who gain nothing from your choice? If your choice is to be an astronaut, you can expect to receive the respect and admiration of everyone whose life your work touches.

I responded in the comments there, but the more I think about this, the more this type of thinking bothers me. Let’s set aside how very ego-centric it is to only respect those who do something to directly benefit your life. Let’s look at the standard here—and I’m not trying to pick on this commentator, but using this comment to illustrate a pervasive, destructive thought pattern that undermines mothers.

Here’s our logic:

  • Astronauts can expect to receive the respect and admiration of everyone whose life their work touches.
  • Mothers can expect to receive the respect and admiration of only their children and husbands.

Seeing it yet?

In this line of thinking, a mother can only receive respect from someone who she works with directly, her immediate family. An astronaut, on the other hand, can “expect” to receive admiration from “many hundreds of people,” who benefit from her work (and here’s a niggling point: this argument says astronauts should get respect for everything anyone in their profession has contributed to society—but not so for mothers).

So what, exactly might that benefit be? Can you name one thing an astronaut has done to make your life better?

Now name one thing your mother did to make your life better.

Now name one thing her mother did to make your life better. A friend’s mother. Your child’s friend’s mother. Another mom in your neighborhood.

So why is it that a mother can only receive respect from the people she serves directly, but an astronaut can receive respect for all of her colleagues’ collective contributions to society? Why can’t we take mothers as a force, too?

Mothers do not only benefit their own families. Having a mother at home can benefit the neighborhood—mothers can touch the lives of their children’s friends—mothers can influence generations. An astronaut doesn’t teach children to get along, to share, to read, to write, to sing, to love, to laugh, to live. We influence our children, and through them, all they come in contact with for the rest of their lives. A mother is the most influential career any of us could have.

globeOr, as G.K. Chesterton put it in his “guest post” here:

How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the Universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone?

So yes, I suppose I do agree that all mothers deserve the respect of those who have benefit from any one mother’s time, effort, talents, love. Has your life benefited from any nurturing woman?

Photo credits: astronaut—Brian Talbot; globe—Sanja Gjenero

Categories
Fulfillment Faith

What really matters? Motherhood

Every year at my alma mater, they hold a women’s conference with wonderful, inspiring speakers.

One of this year’s most notable speakers was Sheri Dew, a writer, speaker, delegate to the Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations and President and CEO of Desert Book publishing company. While Sheri Dew has not had the opportunity to marry or have children, she is still a staunch defender of the family and motherhood.

In her talk this year, she spoke about the influence of good women in the world, saying “No one has more influence on husbands than wives, on children than their mothers, or on young men than young women. Show me the women of any family or community, and I will show you the character and soul of that family and community.”

She characterized the lies that the world (and, as this is a religious setting, you can guess to what source she attributed the world’s lies) tells about womanhood and motherhood:

Lucifer has worked with a vengeance to distort the very definition of womanhood and to confuse everyone about us, including us.

Here are just a few of Lucifer’s lies: That men are smarter, have all the power, and are more important, so if we want to have influence we should be more like them; that marriage and family are confining; that motherhood is menial and a waste of any talented woman’s time; that women are perpetually frazzled and failing; and that a woman’s value is based on her size, shape and what she accomplishes outside the home.

Any of that sound familiar? Or disturbingly like some comments I came across recently?

Dew continues (italics hers, bold mine):

Too many women have bought these lies. Our culture is disintegrating at the speed of light, and unfortunately, our gender is doing a lot of the damage. Sleazy, immoral, cunning women who flaunt their indiscretions jam the airwaves and monopolize magazine covers. Yet we watch their shows, donate to their causes, and even see them as models. . . .

Other distortions are equally troubling. Consider this headline: “The World’s 100 Most Powerful Women” (Forbes, 17 September 2007). I bought this magazine because it made me mad. Every woman listed is a politician, an entertainer, or a CEO. I mean no disrespect to any women listed. What I dispute is the bold distortion that in order to have influence, a woman must have money, fame, or a title. That is a big, fat lie!

How many times a day do we get the message that motherhood doesn’t matter as much as a contribution we might be making in the workplace? How often are working moms told that the time they spend away from their children is far more valuable and has a bigger, more important impact in the world than the precious time they get to spend with their children?

I know I’m not the only one who’s heard these negative messages on motherhood from the world. Dew also knows that the world sends us these messages constantly, but she reminds us of what really matters:

Here is the truth about womanhood. Our Father gave His daughters a divine endowment of gifts that give us unique influence. First and foremost, we have the high privilege of bearing children. If mortality is the time in all eternity to prove ourselves, then there is nothing more important than bearing children and leading them along the path home. President David O. McKay said that, “motherhood is the greatest potential influence . . . in human life” (Improvement Era, 1953, 452).

And for those of us who believe that God appointed this vital and holy role to women, she adds that “We are the Lord’s secret weapon. Pre-mortally [in the spirit world where we lived before we came here], when our Father described our role, we must have shouted for joy because of the ennobling stature He gave women in His kingdom. The world won’t tell us this stunning truth, but the Spirit will.”

I encourage you to read the full text of Sheri Dew’s inspiring talk—and to be reminded of what really matters in this life.

What do you do to try to keep this perspective when no one else seems to agree?