Not a Rhetorical Question

A friend of mine (hi Melissa!) posted this wonderful article today: What Ruth Bader Ginsberg Taught Me About Being a Stay At Home Dad at The Atlantic.

going off on a tangent here: either The Atlantic has become really wonderful in the past 2-3 years or I have grown into reading their work. Either way, they're doing great and they should carry on. 

In addition to a lot of wonderful anecdotes about the Notorious R.B.G., author Ryan Park talks about the difficulties in being a stay-at-home dad for a year while his wife was finishing her rotation in pediatrics at Georgetown. This year was after he had spent a year clerking for Justice Ginsberg, which seems like a step down... until you read his article.

Of course, if you read anything at all about staying at home with kids, you'll wind up reading about Swedish family leave policies. To the point where I honestly rolled my eyes when I first came across it in this article and thought, "Oh sweet Moses, it's Sweden again." Anyway, Park talks about his friend who is married to a Swede and she went home to have her baby. He took a 5 week paternity leave from his residency in the US and was roundly mocked for it by his peers.

Yadda, yadda Sweden is sooooo amazing... but I got to this paragraph (talking about his American friend married to the Swede and moving to Sweden after the baby was born):

Despite his joy at becoming a father, the drudgery of life with a newborn didn’t sit well with him. His wife, a doctor at the same institution, agreed to stay home for the rest of the couple’s allotted time. But on his return to work, the hospital’s leaders pulled him aside and delivered a stern lecture on the poor example he was setting. He was soon back to changing diapers and warming bottles, and the couple redistributed their leave more evenly.

This resonated with me. I've now been a mom for 12+ years. I took a 12 week maternity leave with both of my kids. With our firstborn, my husband took 2 weeks off, but because our son was born during football season, he had to work a little during that time. The university where I worked gave a paid 8 week leave. I had to tell my boss about FMLA (9 years after it was put into law) in order to take an additional 4 weeks as unpaid leave because she was really sticking by that 8 week number. 

With our second, my husband also took 2 weeks off and I took 12, but I recall him working a lot more during that time mainly because he had to take so much time off when I was pregnant with #2 and had a lot of drama. And I remember both times people PRAISING him for staying home with me. I know a lot of women with husbands who were back at work a day or two later because they had to be there or they would lose their jobs. In addition to that, I went back to teaching in mid-May. My husband took #2 with him in his little playpen to work until mid-June when I would be home with the baby again. He's kind of a rock star. 

Aside: shortly after the birth of the first, we were living in the south and I cannot even tell you how many times I would hear friends says "my husband is babysitting the kids tonight." I wanted to scream

 HE IS NOT BABYSITTING 

HE IS THEIR FATHER 

IT IS PART OF HIS JOB. 

But I didn't. Sometimes I said it nicely. Sometimes I didn't say it at all. And if someone asked me, "who's watching the kids?" I would say, "Their dad, because he's their dad." 

Back to the topic: I never wanted to stay home with the kids. With our first, I was home 5 months because we moved to South Carolina when he was 3 months old and I couldn't find a job. I was only home with him for 5 months because I went back to school. I really hated being a stay-at-home mom. 

My husband, despite having a new job, supported my going back to school. He cared for our son in amazing ways. He let me lock myself in our room and work on lesson plans and my graduate thesis and all kinds of ridiculousness. He was the primary earner and the primary caretaker of our son for a year and a half and it is an investment for which I will always be grateful. 

With the 2nd, I was home with him for a year. Again, because of a move- this time we moved from South Carolina to Virginia. Again, I couldn't find a job. But this time, I made a concerted effort to enjoy my time at home. Or at least, not wallow in my misery. I made a ridiculous effort to meet moms with similar aged kids and hang out with them as much as my little introverted heart could handle.

In the summer after we moved, the boys and I were fixtures at the local pool. We swam every day for 16 days before a rainy day closed the pool. When school started for #1, I ended up getting a membership to the indoor pool which was heated but still pretty cold. #2 and I could tolerate it for about a half hour before we would go warm up in the shower, but let me just say that #2 swims like a pro and has never taken a lesson. We went to the park. We went to the library. We went to the children's museum. I was seriously aggressive in my wanting to be in public with my kid(s).  

Then, after 14 months of staying at home, I got a job, a wonderful job, a job I still have and love. 

I happily sent my child off to daycare/pre-school for a year until he started kindergarten and I have never looked back. 

BUT.

What if it was different for us here in the US? (we've finally reached the not a rhetorical question part of this essay). Would I have felt differently about staying at home with the kids? Would they be different people? Because they're pretty awesome kids, I don't know if I would want to change them. 

But if it was widely accepted that BOTH parents stay home at some point, would we all feel differently about staying at home? 

How do we change this? There's so much talk about how the US is at the bottom of the list, internationally, for parental leave of any sort. 

I have a self-selected sample among my friends, but seriously, almost everyone is in favor of this. Even the non-parents, because parents come to work sick because of their little germ vectors kids and the parents get the non-parents sick, and who needs that? Stay home if you're sick!!! 

This is totally from pulledoutofmyass.com, but If ALL parents, regardless of socio-economic status, had a chance to be with their kids more, would we see less mindless consumption? Would parents be less likely to spoil their kids with crap they don't need because they wouldn't feel quite so guilty about spending so much time away from them? 

Would we see better educational outcomes with our kids because parents wouldn't catch shit from their employers for having to go to a conference with the teacher? 

What can we do to change this? Why does it seem to be such an uphill battle in the US to make reforms that will support the entire population? Even if you're not a parent, you were a kid once! 

Additional reading, if you're so inclined... a quick trip down the Google rabbit hole brought me these:

• Parental Leave: the Swedes Are the Most Generous from NPR
• The actual official website of the country of Sweden: 10 Things That Make Sweden Family Friendly

I'm not a role model... wait, yes I am.

Does anyone else remember this commercial? No? Ok, moving on. 

This post is about as revealing as a person gets, so sit down, strap in, hold on, and shut up.

No, please don't shut up.

Three years ago, a former student messaged me on Facebook. She wanted to tell me I am a failure.

She intended for me to be a role model. I was a female teacher who was willing to question the establishment in public.

She was used to being treated as a higher being. She was smart and a lot like Reese Witherspoon's character in the movie Election. If you haven't seen it, you should. It's good.

She came from what was perceived as a good family. Her dad was an attorney. She planned to go to law school.

I was pregnant the semester she was in my class. I had a fairly high risk pregnancy which ended with me on bed rest for 10 weeks and a lot of drama. I don't know why this is relevant, but it's part of the story. I was under a lot of stress. It was also only my third year teaching, so I was still kind of a fuckup.

This student was in my last class of the day. I seem to remember that it was a smallish class, but it was full of personality. That's what teachers say when you have kids who are pretty wild. In this class a lot of the kids didn't like each other and were assholes about it.

This student was in the class with her boyfriend. He was a classic brilliant underachiever. Teachers typically hated him. I didn't, I found him entertaining.

One time, we had a lockdown drill. This meant that we acted like there was a threat of some sort in the building. This was an unannounced drill which also meant that we weren't sure if it was a drill or the real thing. Teachers locked their doors, covered the windows, turned off the lights, students were pushed into a corner and we were all supposed to act like there was no one in the room. This particular student started freaking out. Her boyfriend was hugging her and telling her it would be all right. Two other students in the class apparently gave her shit for freaking out. I don't know, honestly, I was busy trying not to freak out myself and I was really worried that they weren't being quiet. Anyway, she loudly called him an asshole.

I wrote her up for it. Standard disciplinary procedure. In her message, I should not have done that because they were "two of the biggest shitheads in class."

Huh. I didn't realize that justice was for the mostly good. I thought it was for everyone.

There was a student in her class who might have been new to the school. I honestly don't remember. I do remember that she did not dress like the other students. She didn't look like them. She didn't act like them. And some of them gave her crap for it. This student in particular, gave her a lot of crap for it. In her message, she asked me if I remembered accusing her of bullying a student without asking how she felt about it.

I didn't accuse anyone of anything. Which is my failing. The student and her mom accused two of the students and I supported her version of events. I should have done the accusing. I watched it happen. They taunted her daily. The student went on homebound instruction for the rest of the year because she felt like she couldn't deal with school. I feel really shitty that I didn't do anything first. So no, I don't give a fuck what she felt about it.

During this student's senior year, I took a group of students to Washington, D.C., for Obama's first inauguration. It took an insane amount of planning to get that trip together. I was told by the administration that I could only take students who were currently in my government course at the time. Since I had to take a minimum number and the trip was expensive,  they allowed me to open the trip to honors or AP students with their approval.

She asked to go on the trip. Despite what I saw as a personality conflict with her, I asked the administration anyway. I wanted to say no outright, but I went ahead and asked.

They said no. She was being criminally investigated at the time. While I know the details of the situation, I'm pretty sure she was a minor and so I'm not going to say anything incriminating. Let's just say that it was extreme bullying. It was pretty horrible, honestly.

One day, just as the bell rang, this student tried to stop me on the way out of my classroom.

I have a small bladder. I can barely make it 90 minutes of class, and there were times where I had to call over another teacher to keep an eye on my class so I could run to the bathroom.

Anyway, she tried to stop me. I had to pee. BAD.

She says I slammed the door to my classroom in her face when she wanted to know why I couldn't take her on the DC trip. Really, it was the door to the bathroom. She could have waited for me to finish. But she didn't. I don't know that things would have turned out differently for her. She wasn't allowed to go. I didn't make that decision.

I was reminded of all this today.

A friend of mine posted this amazing article on Facebook: http://thehairpin.com/2014/10/let-me-love-you/

A quote from the article:

Here’s an insanely revolutionary act: why not counter each ill thought that comes through your head with an acceptance—the acceptance that you’re not always going to agree with everything every woman does. Or an acceptance that some women will be tricky and some will be actual bitches, some of them will read Lean In and be the next Sheryl Sandberg, some women will call Beyoncé an anti-feminist, some will be walking contradictions, or some women will say that I’m a fake behind my back, or that I’m a liar, and that I don’t write well, or whatever—and just to accept that people are just people, women are just women, instead of reacting poorly and slamming them in whatever juvenile way that you see fit.


I realized that I have been accepting but not liking certain women for years. When I was being a butt head when I was a kid, my mom would say, "I love you, but I don't like your actions."

I have accepted my students, flaws and all, and there is more than one that I have not loved. But love or not, I have been fair.

I have always been fair, no matter what their age, gender, sexual orientation, socio economic background. I will not give you a free pass to misbehave because you are smart or white or rich.

And so while this student carries this viewpoint of oppression with her, I am proud. I am damn proud of what I've done and what I continue to do. I am a role model. I try to choose to do the right thing. Sometimes I fail. I'm totally human. But I believe in fairness.

I hope this student finds peace and acceptance. Believing you are oppressed when there is no reason to do so is a horrible cross to bear.

Adulting at a High Level

When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to grow up. 100% of the best part of growing up is making your own decisions.

Eat breakfast food all the time? Yes. Pancakes all the time. Delicious.

Go on vacation wherever you want? Yes.

Wear whatever you want? Yes.

Have a messy room? Why not?

Refuse to make your bed? Doesn't matter.

Fail to clean the bathroom every Saturday? Still get to go out.

Today, I'm sitting here while sweaty dudes make very loud noises on my roof. Today they're tearing the old one off. The rest of the week they'll be putting a new one on. What you don't realize as a kid is that there's a sense of satisfaction in knowing that as an adult, you can order a major home improvement project. And the feeling of accomplishment in knowing that you can pay for it.

My bed isn't made. My clothes aren't put away. I had a bagel for breakfast because pancakes are a pain in the butt. I didn't clean the bathroom this weekend. I'm wearing a t-shirt and spandex shorts because I'm going to work out in a couple of hours and there's no purpose in getting something else dirty beforehand.

All those things I learned to do as a kid, I'm ignoring. Regardless, I'm still acting like an adult at a pretty high level.