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Sister Wives and Brother Husbands?

December 15, 2010 By Trina O'Gorman 2 Comments

I was so tired today that I actually put aside the things that I should have been doing, just to try to rest for a moment. I turned on the television. Something I rarely get a chance to do and almost never do in the middle of the afternoon. It happened to already by tuned into ABC and the Oprah show was on. She was interviewing a polygamist family, who apparently appears on a Discovery Channel show called “Sister Wives.” It was the first I’d ever heard of it, though I don’t think this is the first season. The show features a Kody Brown and his three, soon to be four, wives. I have to say I don’t know why anyone would find this interesting enough to watch, but that is a personal matter of choice. After all, I spend some part of my afternoon watching the interview about the show. And I began to get my knickers in a twist.

Of course, I took the more common route in my thinking. I looked at the arrangement of these poor women. They were obviously lost and misguided. He had his cake and he was eating it too. How would he like it if one of his wives had decided to bring in several men? Then I stopped to think this through. How would it benefit me to have four husbands, instead of the one that I currently have?

I do not wish to be offensive to anyone. I am sure that many of us have wonderful husbands, but most of the women to whom I speak, well, nice or not, their husbands are not a great deal of help inside the house. They work outside of the house, which is great, but once home they require a bit of guidance to complete tasks on their “honey-do” lists. That is, if they are handy. If you are encumbered by one that is not handy, well, they are good for….Well, okay look. I am now really struggling with reverse polygamy. I can actually see the benefit that a household with multiple women might bring with it, aside from any freaky stuff that might come to mind. What I am referring to are the practical daily things that need to be done in a household. I am not saying that I condone polygamy. What I am really struggling with is this: How ever could the reverse style of it benefit a woman? It is truly mind-boggling. More women, less work. More men, more work. What does it say about men and their roles in society? Marriage?

Filed Under: Entertainment, Humor, Opinion

Race/Culture/Ethnicity: A PSA

December 6, 2010 By Trina O'Gorman 4 Comments

The time has come for me to start speaking out about cultural/racial/ethnic awareness on behalf of my two children. It is not an easy topic and it is one that is often met with much resistance. No one likes to talk about it. People feel like they are pointing fingers. Others feel blamed. No one feels good about it. It is the legacy of racism in American history that makes this nearly an impossible subject to rationally discuss. And yet I must try. I must do it for my boys.

A recent Facebook status update:

I’m having a t-shirt printed with the following “Dear Strangers: While I appreciate efforts to be friendly, I must implore that you not make any further attempts to pet my children or stroke their hair. I’ll have to slap your hand to make an example out of you. You’ve been forewarned. **People in Whole Foods: While you might have good culinary taste, you might be creepiest and touchiest of all.** Regards, Their Mom

Sunday at 6:44pm · Like · Comment · Hide Feedback (29)

I hesitated to post this and yet felt compelled. My friends, a diverse group of intelligent people, would certainly offer up interesting feedback. We’d just been to Whole Foods, where a woman, well-meaning I am sure, attempted to touch my youngest child’s hair and then drew me into a conversation about their hair and how it came to be the way that it is. Notice I say “attempted.” We’ve learned to bob and weave extremely well. The direct questioning can be challenging. How compassionate should I be? How disappointed and terse?

My children, two amazing little boys, ages 7 and 2, are of mixed race/ethnicity. When my youngest was born, I was at first hurt by the questions people would have the audacity to ask, from “Are you his mother or his nanny?” to “How did you and your husband meet?” It is 2010. These things happen. There are hundreds and thousands of people of mixed race and ethnicity in the United States. My children are nothing new and should not really be a curiosity to anyone, or at least this is how I feel. I feel it is no great leap to figure out how they came to be or how it is that they have such a different texture of hair than I do or a very different skin color than I do.

I know that some will argue that my understanding of what is happening is skewed. People are being nice and that people only want to touch their hair because it is silky and curly. Perhaps that is true for some. But the touching along with the combination of socially awkward and culturally unaware questions are evidence that there is something more happening under the surface, when it comes to trying to pet my children. So, we will start here.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Are those children yours?

A. We don’t know you. You are creepy.

Q. How do you get his hair that way?

A. To grow out of the follicles? I’m sorry, I’m confused. We don’t know you. You are creepy.

Q. Are your children mixed?

A. Whoa. Are you with the US Census Bureau? The FBI? An patient from a nearby mental health facility? I don’t know you. You are creepy.

Q. How did you meet your husband?

A. Do you ask all of the other mothers outside of the school these probing questions? I don’t know you. You are creepy.

Okay, I know. I know. This is a racial/ethnic/cultural issue and I should handle it more gently. But all of these well-meaning, friendly, polite, social people are not making this easy.

Photo is the property of the author.

Filed Under: Opinion

In defense of Corduroy

November 8, 2010 By Trina O'Gorman 4 Comments

I am taking a stand, on behalf of Corduroy. I am not referring to the “…textile composed of twisted fibers that, when woven, lie parallel (similar to twill) to one another to form the cloth’s distinct pattern, a “cord” (Wikipedia). To be honest, the jury is still out on that one. Some years I like corduroy, other years I don’t think it should worn by anyone over the age of ten. What I am referring to is the picture book, Corduroy by Dan Freeman, which was written in 1968. Corduroy is an imperfect little teddy bear, who lives in a department store, waiting to be purchased.  A little girl named Lisa eventually purchases him. He finds both a friend and a home.

I am sure I’ve read that book and looked at the pictures in it no less than 200 times in my life. It was my favorite book as a child. It was my seven-year-old favorite book in preschool. And now, I have the pleasure of introducing it to my two-year-old, who I hope will enjoy it as much as his brother and I did and continue to do. Which is why I was shocked to read an article in the New York Times several weeks ago that reported that the purchasing and reading of picture books are down because parents are pushing children towards chapter books at an earlier age. This trend is attributed to anxiety over meeting the standards for standardized texts.

People. No. No. No!

As an English educator and an avid reader, I honestly cannot express enough how awful a thing this truly is. I learned to read very early. I loved to read very early. My seven-year-old is a fluent and avid reader. He started reading independently at three! He was three years old when I realized that he had not memorized the story, but that he actually knew words by sight. I didn’t try to teach him to read. I didn’t try to force him to read chapter books. More than anything, what I wanted to do, was to inspire him to love books. And that meant, all types of books.

Even I, at the age of 43, love illustrations in books. What is there not to love? Illustrations tell stories in and of themselves. Oftentimes stories that are more complex than a child is actually able to read in words. But beyond complexity, what about joy? Forcing a child to read books that are frustrating, too far beyond his or her level of comprehension, or about subjects that he or she just isn’t ready to have developed an interest in, is a surefire way to turn someone off from reading.

I don’t just want my children to know how to read well. I want them to love to read. There is such a huge difference in knowing how to do something well and loving to do something. I wash a damned good dish, but darn it, I hate doing the dishes. If this trend continues, I would bet my last dollar that many more of these children will know how to read well, but not love to read, and that would be an absolute shame.

I still have that nostalgic feeling of wonder and love, when I read Corduroy and I’m an English professor. People, your kids are going to be okay. Let them have their picture books.

Filed Under: Opinion, Parenting

Not good for the working mom’s schedule. Uh oh.

November 4, 2010 By Trina O'Gorman 11 Comments

Is there not some sort of etiquette for responding to status updates of Facebook?

Let me explain the source of my contention. This is a short school week for my oldest son. We were excited, when we realized it last week and started making plans for how we’d spend the days off. Together we decided we’d spend at least some part of it taking his younger brother to a hands-on museum that he used to love when he was the same age. My oldest was excited that he’d get to show his little brother the ropes. Exciting, right?

I updated my Facebook status to say how happy I was that it was a short school week. All of the gearing up for Halloween had left me a bit weary. The slower pace was something to which I looked forward. A few of my friends agreed. Then it came.  The post. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t meld with the working mom’s schedule.”

I bristled. I try to keep my posts pretty cheerful on Facebook. I’m sure I could find plenty to bitch about. I’ve been at home, on my own, for the better part of the year with our two sons, ages 7 and 2, while my husband is in Afghanistan. So, I’ve got complaint-worthy material, I think. However, what bothered me more than the fact that someone was raining on my parade,(because let’s face it, your Facebook page is your own personal parade down Narcissism Road), was the fact that somehow we’d entered into an unforeseen Working Mom vs. SAHM/WAHM debate.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen enough of those to know that they never end prettily. I’ve debated a great many things in my life. I’ve attended graduate school and usually teach as an adjunct in the English Department of a university, though I took the year off when my husband received orders. I love a good intellectual debate. The problem with the Working Mom vs. SAHM/WAHM debate is that it’s never very good and it’s always more emotional than it is intellectual.

This morning, while I tried to take a shower before waking the boys, the youngest awakened and got into the shower with me, crying and fully clothed in his pajamas.  I turned off the shower, got out, bundled him in a towel, wrapped myself in one, and just stood there and comforted him. Being on my own, with a husband in Afghanistan, has taught me a lot. For one, some things just aren’t worth getting my panties in a bunch.

And yet, just hours later, my knickers were in a twist about a response to what began as a cheerful Facebook post. I have to stop and wonder why. My best guess is this: the Working Mom vs. SAHM/WAHM debates are typically argued by women who feel the need to justify the decisions they’ve made. Many women, apparently, feel guilty or conflicted about the decision to either stay home or go to work. Some defend their positions vehemently. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel absolutely no need to defend my position as a SAHM/WAHM, who is home during most days with her children. I am absolutely delighted with the decisions that I’ve made, despite the hardships we have faced.

But, there is also the fact that someone tried to rain on my Facebook parade. So, I’ve had to make another decision that will make me happy. I’ve had to tweak the privacy settings on my Facebook page. I mean, narcissism of the Facebook variety, should result in a certain amount of joy. Don’t you think?

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Filed Under: Opinion