Chez Miscarriage has a wonderful series of posts on “drive-by mothering,” when other parents uninvitedly correct your parenting. Excellent related threads are here and here and especially here.
Reading through the 300+ hilarious and mind-bending comments readers have given in response to these posts unfortunately reminds me of a different sort of commentary I get daily: silence.
I’ve written before about my experiences with the other parents in Ethan’s school and during our daily jaunts, and I think none are more hurtful than the feeling that I personally am unwanted or don’t exist. Ethan is a delightful child (if you ask me) and no one I am aware of have ever penalized him for being the son of incredibly young, unmarried parents (yet), but I and E’s dad have experienced social isolation and distancing for our family situation. As of yet, the only parent friends I have made (but for one who recently moved away) are of strikingly different economic situations (which usually means we have different schedules and little common time and funds to spend together, making the friendships short but pleasurable) or are parents I read on parenting blogs. This does not make for a tangible parenting culture for me to draw from, something I rely on for my parental skills.
I try to relate to other parents with whom we have contact every day. Ethan is always invited to his peers’ birthdays. I tag along, as parents are usually expected to stick around and help supervise. Though I try to start up conversations with other parents, they tend to be short. I find myself wandering about alone or playing with the children, which sometimes seems to amplify my youth. The only time a considerable conversation was raised was when I prepared for a lonely afternoon at a birthday party by bringing my knitting along and several of the mothers commented on my hobby. They then wandered off dicussing crafts amongst themselves and I was left literally mid-sentence to myself. It was a lonely and disappointing day. At least E had fun.
In talking to others, I have had several reasons posed as to why this might be. It might be the high socio-economic class culture of the school. It might be plain prejudice. It might be fear that premarital compulsions are contagious. It might be the lingering discomfort after being asked by several at the school whether or not I was Ethan’s nanny and my rather irritated responses. Relations have improved since these first painful months, but I am always aware of my difference.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s just me and some sort of over-sensitized self-flagellation, but that doesn’t erase the silence.
The most reasonable explanation I have been given so far is that the other parents simply assume that because of my youth we will have nothing in common. My first response to this is that we have one binding thing in common: our kids spend 5-8 hours a day together every single day. Surely there is some talking point.
The most painful afternoon took place last summer. We live right around the corner from a great BBQ joint and walked over one afternoon for some lemonade and sweet potato pie. A little girl from Ethan’s school was sitting at the outdoor cafe with her parents after their lunch, chatting away while they enjoyed the sun. She has always been friendly with the two of us, but her parents never seemed quite comfortable with my presence. When Ethan ran over to say hello, he was greeted warmly. I walked to the table with a smile and a greeting, and held out my hand to formally introduce myself. Her parents just looked at me and didn’t say much of anything. I retracted my empty hand after several excruciating seconds and we said good-bye, leaving with our lemonade and pie.
I don’t anticipate as much of this kind of silence when Ethan begins public school next year. I don’t expect it to cease either. I don’t expect the assumptions about our lifestyle or values or efficency to taper off until I become a less visible presence in Ethan’s public life. It isn’t hard to pick me out of a crowd when my parental peers look old enough to be their children’s grandparents. Over time I’ve learned to care a bit less and focus on making sure Ethan is getting the education that he deserves, but I wonder if his educational experience could be brightened if I felt comfortable enough to participate in the school’s culture to my capacity, if I felt like our family, warts and all, was valued in the school community.
Do me a favor. If there is another parent in your child’s school who appears markedly different, strain your comfort zone and say hello. Think of me.
via Alas and Stone Court
Similar Posts:
- Buffy, Superheroes, and Raising Young Feminists by Lauren July 20, 2008
- Raising a Progressive-Minded Kid by Lauren November 8, 2009
- I Was a Teen Mom by Lauren January 4, 2005
- Teen Parenthood and Afterwards by Lauren May 26, 2005
- Air-Breathing, Water-Drinking Earthlings by Lauren April 22, 2009
Though I’m sure you’ve had unique experienes you could attribute to racial or social status differences I’ve never dealth with, I have experienced some of what your talking about simply due to age difference. I am by far the youngest mother in my daughter’s peer group. I was 20 when she was born. To further attribute to the age gap, she’s my oldest and most of her friends are younger siblings. I’m sure my experience is minute compared to some of what you’ve mentioned, but I often feel isolated as well.
I attributed the awkwardness I experienced with other parents to age difference as well. In my case, however, there was also a curiosity as to why I was was the one at my sister’s school meetings, recitals, soccer games, girl scout troop meetings etc. There was never any good way to explain the home situation that made such things necessary so I would spend my time, like you, either playing with the kids or alone at all of these functions. I was used to it though so it’s left no lasting scars. Thankfully.
maybe they’re intimidated. you’re young, attractive, probably energetic, strong… people who’ve quit trying to improve and just raise the children probably don’t look forward to the competition that you might present. not that they’re justified in that at all, but it’s something to consider. and maybe make you feel a little less sad.
“you’re young, attractive, probably energetic, strong… ”
OK, I realise this was meant to comfort, but c’mon: playing on the old “Competitive Women” thing, implying that it is youth that confers attractiveness, and other stereotypes (such as anyone over a certain age, especially if she has a kid or more, has automatically “quit trying to improve”) is not exactly accurate or fair, and it certainly isn’t woman-positive.
I personally know women in their mid to late 30s and early 40s who are having their first children and they are all vibrant, intelligent, vital women who are also (gasp!) atill “attractive”. Lauren has to face ageism for being a very young mother, which is a bad thing, but piling more ageism on top of that doesn’t help.
Loneliness is the suckiest of the negative emotions.
When the soon-to-be little one starts day care, I will think of you and say hello to one who seems different. Though come to think of it, that may be us, since we are having our first in our late 30s, but live in a heavily immigrant neighborhood where many people have their kids young.
Why Are Mothers So Cruel To Each Other?
Thanks to Lauren at Feminist, Alas A Blog, and Stone Court, I have discovered a great new blog – Chezmiscarriage. Chezmiscarriage has a great series of posts about drive-by mothering, which every mother has experienced and possibly even done herself.
Where do you live? I don’t understand this sort of behavior…I live in Oakland, CA, and we deal with racial, economic, sexual preference, and marital status differences all the time. Age differences too. Part of it is living in a less “fancy” neighborhood and having my kids in public school. It’s a drag to be upper middle class, you really have to work at it! I prefer my middle class bohemianism, it’s lots more fun. But those parents at the BBQ joint just sound badly brought up. I don’t understand people who don’t know how to be polite.
They wouldn’t even shake your hand? That’s a shocker. I mean, if they don’t want to talk to you, fine, though I would still be troubled by that. But to refuse to even acknowledge you just blows my mind.
Crys T, I didn’t mean to imply that everyone over 30 or 40 is old and matronly. Because that’s not what I think. The women Lauren described struck me as stand-offish and unconcerned with her. And I thought to myself, Why could that be? This is what I came up with.
It’s like a self-defense mechanism. Women tend to become insecure when their looks start to fade. That may not be very “woman-positive” but not all facts of life are. Beauty (the outside kind) fades w/age. And since we’re told from a young age, as women, that we are beautiful and beauty (the outside kind) takes us far in our lives, we don’t know what to do when we start to age. Some of us don’t deal with it very well. Rather than discovering something other than our looks to be proud of, a lot of us just try to remain beautiful (have you seen Oprah?). Or remain the most beautiful, thus shunning someone who’s considered more beautiful. I find a lot wrong with this scenerio, but it sure is something I’ve noticed.
If that’s not why Lauren’s having trouble with the women in her town, then what? It was just a thought, and again, like you said, it was meant to be supportive.
I cannot believe they wouldn’t even shake your hand. That is unspeakably rude. Actually, they ALL sound rude to me. I mean, at these parties, the hosting parent(s) should be trying to make all of their guests feel comfortable, welcome, etc. Rude, rude, rude.
“Women tend to become insecure when their looks start to fade.”
Uhhh….right. And of course, the first thing we old, gnarled hags do is look to pin the blame of our hideousness on a fresh, young thing. Right. You know, not everyone subscribes to this mindset, and not all of us have fits of the vapours over every new wrinkle.
” That may not be very “woman-positive” but not all facts of life are.”
And of course, the idea that older women are inherently less attractive, and therefore less valuable, is an immutable “fact of life” and not a cultural construct.
“we don’t know what to do when we start to age.”
I do: fucking have the time of my life., without most of the hang-ups I had when I was younger. You can choose to believe me or not, but I am enjoying being 40 more than I ever enjoyed being 20 or 30. And I think I look just as good, too.
I’m sorry to come across as abrasive, but hell, the name of this blog is actually “Feministe”, so I do think some feminist challenging of cultural prejudices and stereotypes is on order.
Maybe those women treat Lauren so poorly not out of Jealous, catty spite over her dewy youthful freshness, but out of upper-middle class snobbery and just general snottiness? I agree totally w/ Leila’s post: I think that if Lauren were in a different place it’s likely her experiences would be different as well. I cannot imagine women in the places I’ve lived having the reactions that she describes. Mostly because for the most part, single or unmarried parenting is fairly common, and people aren’t so damn hung up on age.
CrysT -
I agree 100% . I’m here via Trish Wilson, and I also have read all of the great posts over at Chez Miscarriage.
And you know what – there’s a whole category of “drivebys’ that older moms get. “I’m so glad *I* had my kids while I’m young enough to enjoy them!” “By the time he’s in college, you’ll be … ancient!” and, of course “Are you the grandma?”
“Are you the grandma” is a parallel question to “are you the nanny?” They’re both based on the assumption that there is some kind of “ideal mom” and that someone who is either too old or too young is NOT it.
Having read the “parenting” archives here, I was sad to see that the crack about “They look like their children’s grandparents” is a common one. Its the flipside of the same ageist prejudice — and is it really made okay because “they started it?”
I don’t know where all these catty, jealous, older women are who are going around blaming young mothers for their youth and vitality. It sounds like something out of “Snow White,” with the Evil Queen cackling into her mirror and brewing up poisoned combs to adorn the lovely, not-grey hair of her rival.
Plenty of the readers of Chez Miscarriage have experienced lonliness and isolation because infertility and child loss have made them older parents. They’ve been marginalized by the other parents in *their* circle because they’re “too old.” At 29, I was one of the oldest in my childbirth class. Maybe its about more than age, huh?
I don’t think the awkwardness is attributed to my “beauty” per se, but to my educational level, my marital status, and age. I don’t know of any other separated family in the school, though I’m sure some are on their second marriages (or more) and none of the parents appear to be younger than their late twenties. This is perhaps the most exclusive private school in the area and most of the kids are from families of professors, immigrant superstars, and other wealthy folks.
Sara, I don’t think your characterization of my experience is fair at all. I’m not aware of the “grandparent crack” being common, even though I represent the flipside of their cultural coin. Where the parents in this school are older, wealthy, and well-educated, I’m quite young, living off of college loans, and am comparatively lesser educated. In some circles I represent a “worse” kind of parent, the one who didn’t do things in the “proper” order. This is what I believe they are responding to. Age is a salient part of that perception.
what have you done to try to overcome this feeling? when my child, who was born late in my child-bearing years was born, I made it a MISSION to become one of THEM!! I volunteered to read with them, brought in treats on a regular basis and got to know the teacher so well she actually thought of me as a peer. Go for it and never look back!
Wilma, I don’t know about your situation, but considering the sheer numbers related to the age gap we’re talking about, I assume you not only have more money than your younger peers, but time as well. Are you married? Another thing that bulks up your ability to participate.
Not having a spouse or an income is a bit cumbersome, but FYI, I’ve made quite an effort. Some minds cannot be retrained.
Lauren –
I’m sorry, I probably didn’t make my point clearly. I just wanted to agree very much with Crys’ comment about ageism going both ways.
I’ve participated, in my time, in a number of discussion boards for women dealing with fertility issues, miscarriages, and other problems with conception. As you might expect, the age on those boards skews much older than on your typical “trying to conceive” boards – there are a lot of women there who became parents in their late 30s and early 40s. And a very common topic of discussion there is the criticism those women get for “waiting” to have their kids, though for many of them, there was nothing voluntary at all about their waiting. Random strangers feel free to comment on why it was such a bad idea to “wait so long.” There’s a lot of criticism out there for a woman who bucks the trend and has babies late in life, as well one who has them early.
I see that you were trying to illustrate yet another way you stand out from the rest of the parent crowd – but can you also see that repeated descriptions of these people as folks who who look like grandparents is a way of pointing out that they are doing things in the wrong order too? You’re not just saying they look much older than you – there’s the added implication that they’re at the wrong stage of life to be doing the parent thing. I’m sorry if I’m reading more into it than is intended – but sometimes its wise to think beyond that intent, to question assumptions – that’s certainly something I learned in my feminist theory and criticism classes.
If I had to guess, I would guess that age has a lot less to do with their reactions than does their perception of social class lines. And I would bet that when you start him at the public schools you’ll find a lot less of this kind of prejudice. There will be lots of younger mothers, because in general, most children are still being born to younger mothers. While I’m a “middle of the road” mom (my first was born when I was 30), I am also far from rich, since my husband is a lowly-paid academic type, and I can say that I have gotten the snooty treatment from other moms who are close to me in age. Its about whether your diaper bag is Kate Spade, not so much about the birthdate on the driver’s license inside it… Its about whether you “have to work” or whether you can join them for their Wednesday morning playdates or afford the supplies to come to Scrapbook Night once a month.
And for some women, life will continue to be all about their clique. Moms groups *can* be cliquish – there’s always someone who never grew emotionally past Jr. High and spends their life reliving the selection of JV cheerleaders in every group they join. Life is too short to give a crap about *them*.
Mothers of every age face crap from society. We should strive not to add to it whenever possible, and I agree, that means that we should reach out to the parents at our schools who aren’t *just* like us…
Hey~
I have no real insight…just that I am so disgusted by the reactions people seem to have to you as a single, never married parent. I wonder if it would be different if you and E’s dad were divorced (note I’m assuming that you were not married based on how you framed the relationship). Your post caused me to reconsider two things:
–I am a huge Gilmore Girls fan but your post made me rethink the whole golden version they present of the mother/daughter best friends whom the community embraces and never judges. I know GG is a fiction, but the more I thought about it, the more I suspect it would never happen in a small town, much less one near the wealthiest parts of Connecticut (the show plays with class but never illustrates anyone judging Lorelai for having a child out of wedlock).
which led to this memory:
–a dear friend and student had a child after her fiance left her, and since she was a black, full-time student (in law school no less) and naturalized citizen (with a distinct accent), who had to rely on Medicare to pay for her hospital stay, the hospital staff assumed she was a welfare mom. During delivery, they treated her as if she was not aware of her own body signals. She knew when she was fully dilated but they didn’t believe her. After the delivery, the nurses placed her and the baby on a separate wing from the white, middle class moms with husbands. Her neighbors on the ward were all black women, ages 15-20, single, and poor. What is more, as her lamaze coach, I received all kinds of comments (a white girl who was supporting a black girl through her pregnancy and birth). One nurse called me George repeatedly. Another made fun of us, even though there were lesbian couples (white of course) in the lamaze class. They were really unnerved by this inter-racial friendship/support system, but would never have said anything to the white girls who were clearly supporting each other.
I suspect that there might well be a lot going on in your scenario about class and how you might be judged as my friend was–as a poor girl who had a child out of wedlock. Other moms have not really embraced her either, though now that she is married and has (what looks to be) a normative family situation, as well as a career as a defense attorney, she is better received.
Wonder if that will happen for you?
I gotta say, though, that I am happy for E that whatever idiocy that these parents seem to harbor about young mothers that they do not extend it to E.
Hang in there–it seems you’re doing a great job with E.
Ginny
Lauren-
As a former young mother myself, I recognize the behavior you describe. My son is now twenty and I am fourty yet I still face some awkward moments when people see us together. Unfortunately, I can’t say my experience iin the public schools was any better. From being asked if I was his older sister at parent teacher conferences to actuallt having our way barred when I went to get him out of high school early (because we must both be students trying to sneak out) it was difficult. Although it would have been great to become friendly with the parents of his peers I found friends elsewhere and dealt with the cold shoulder at school functions. I am not sure why it is that young ( especially, single) mothers are such a problem for other parents. I am tempted to agree that the issue of not following accepted order is a big part of it. I think that is magnified if it is percieved to be a choice on your part. It is possible for yoour child to have a normal social life in any case, it’s only slightly weird when dropping them off for parties or hosting them yourself. Then again, the social niceties were never my favorite part of having my son, anyway.
I can relate to you in every way. I had my daughter when I was 18, and she has been attending the same pre school for two years. Not one mother has every talked to me. Until, I joined my daughter in gymnastics, and another mother saw me there. Then, I was suddenly good enough to talk to. I feel like the lonliest mother on the planet. Young moms are very competitive about their kids, and older mothers have been through more in life than young moms, so it is hard to relate. If you ever want to get the kids together, let me know. I am attending kindergarten round up tonight. It should be interesting!
I can certainly identify with your feelings, Lauren, and I’m one of the older moms here in my little corner of the world. And what’s the deal? Maybe it’s not ageism but I think it’s a different sort of ‘separatism’: class. I have a Ph.D so it’s not an lack of education thing but I’m not working. We’re simply not wealthy. I had one mom come over to our little apartment and chew me out for living in a dump. She hasn’t spoken to me since. An awful feeling despite all the intellectualizing I do about her arrogance. But I can certainly relate. This need to ‘separate’ from others who are different is repugnant and debased.
eeeeeee.
“I can certainly relate” .
Please take it to mean about your feelings, not to that rude mom….
I am married and am not a young mother. I am at least 10 years older than the the mothers of most of the kids in my sons’ classes. But I get the same treatment you do, Lauren. In my case it’s because I am an outisder. I moved to a small town (also in the corn and soybeans) three years ago. Not being from town is enough (and you can live there 10+ years and it won’t change much) but we also shared a house with my sons’ godmother for the first year. This confused the neighbors a bit and led to some very interesting gossip.
My neighbor’s younger children are close in age to mine and she was a very young mom. Luckily for me, she was also very cool. Like you, I have tried to reach out to the other mothers in my town. Most of them want nothing to do with me. They avoid eye contact whenever possible and only speak to me if I speak to them first. I now make it a point at each school function to go up to at least one of the “haircut moms” and have a short, pleasant conversation, during which I usually suggest that they come by my house some time to visit. I cannot fathom why they are so incredibly uncomfortable with me. The only moms with whom I have connected well are those similarly rejected by the former cheerleaders. (I have been chastised by Dr. Godmother for using that as a pejorative, as she actually did cheerlead, but I point out that she also moved on from that mindset.) Like you, I am glad the discourtesy doesn’t extend to my children.
I wish you lived in my town! The cool outsider women on my block do a regular stitch n bitch where your intellect and humor would be most welcome.
This whole thread, from the posts at Chez Miscarriage and the comments here, makes me wonder why mothers can’t be more supportive of one another. Whatever happened to “it takes a village?”
Age is not related to love —and by that I mean the verb love not hte feeling. Don’t worry about someone else’s view of you…you are doing fine by your son. We can’t really control someone else’s opinion of us; we can only worry about what we think of our own actions.
I don’t care what your “educational level” is our your age. From your blog you appear emotionally stable, mature, responsible, intelliigent and caring. I would use a cuss word followed by their opinion but I have to mainatain my image ;-)