Friday, May 23, 2008

Growing Up as a Child of the Feminist Revolution

According to Alice Walker--and lots of feminists--motherhood is just a form of slavery. I suppose that's why so many feminists are so desperate to avoid having children to the point where they support killing babies up till birth (maybe a few wouldn't mind killing babies after birth, but I don't have hard evidence to support that conclusion).

But her daughter Rebecca Walker wants to set the record straight about what it's like growing up in that doctrinaire household.

A neighbour, not much older than me, was deputised to look after me. I never complained. I saw it as my job to protect my mother and never distract her from her writing. It never crossed my mind to say that I needed some time and attention from her.

When I was beaten up at school - accused of being a snob because I had lighter skin than my black classmates - I always told my mother that everything was fine, that I had won the fight. I didn't want to worry her.

But the truth was I was very lonely and, with my mother's knowledge, started having sex at 13. I guess it was a relief for my mother as it meant I was less demanding. And she felt that being sexually active was empowering for me because it meant I was in control of my body.

Now I simply cannot understand how she could have been so permissive. I barely want my son to leave the house on a play-date, let alone start sleeping around while barely out of junior school.

A good mother is attentive, sets boundaries and makes the world safe for her child. But my mother did none of those things.

I've never really understood parents who don't want to be involved with their children. I'm not a helicopter parent by any stretch of the imagination, but among the happiest times in my life have been when I could be a full-time stay at home mom, taking care of all the day-to-day necessities of life and being there to listen to all the stories three children come home with on a daily basis.

There's something fascinating in having your teenager use you as a sounding board as she works towards adulthood, listening to your son discover the wonders of volcanoes, and having your youngest child explaining the latest melodrama of second grade. Maybe having a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel is an enormous accomplishment--and I wouldn't turn that down at all!--but I know that, in the end, those closest to you are the people you invest your time and effort in. Your greatest influence isn't on millions of readers who will sell your book once they are done with it; it is with your family and children who will care for you long after the world has forgotten your accomplishments.

What's most cherished is when your child tells you you're a "good cooker" because you'll make macaroni and cheese or ham when they want it. Certificates and honors are wonderful accomplishments, but I would be devastated if, as an adult, my child thought I had been self-absorbed, selfish, distant and disinterested in him/her. But, unfortunately, there are too many of those parents out there.