Another twist on “equally-shared parenting” June 16, 2008

Patti Ghezzi, an education reporter and one of the women on my local mom’s group lists, sent a link to a really great story in Sunday’s Atlanta Journal-Constitution about Clifton Green, a father and Emory University professor, who washes, twists and braids his adopted daughter Miriam’s hair.  Miriam is from Africa, and he and his wife finalized her adoption about two months after their son was born.  Clifton saw that his wife had her hands full taking care of a newborn and a toddler, so he decided to take responsibility for caring for her hair.  Judging by the photos accompanying the article, he has done a fabulous job. 

As someone with ethnic hair, I can personally appreciate his efforts.  I’m half Puerto-Rican and I inherited my father’s coarse, tightly curled hair.  My parents divorced when I was very young and I had very little contact with my father’s family growing up, so I lacked a cultural point of reference where my hair was concerned.  My mother, with her fine, stick-straight hair, had no idea what to do with it.  Ponytails and barrettes were out of the question, and this was in the days before gels and pomades were widely available on the market.  So, my trips to the hairdresser meant getting my hair shorn short with clippers.  There was no attempt at style.  I remember feeling like I wanted to cover my head up afterwards.  I was tall, thin and athletic so I was often mistaken for a boy until I was a teenager.  No lingering trauma there, eh? 

My daughter’s hair right now is mostly straight, but curls are appearing at the nape of her neck.  It’s hard to know if she will end up with curly hair or not.  My mother said my hair didn’t start to curl until I was two years old.  I found myself musing recently that if Ahleia’s hair stays straight or wavy that I will need to learn how to do things like pin back sections with barrettes or make ponytails and braids!  I may need to give Clifton Green a call. 

The article touches upon the cultural significance in the African-American community of caring for hair.  And once again, we invoke Brangelina, who, according to the article, has been criticized for not doing more with their adopted daughter Zahara’s hair.  Cared-for hair is a sign of status – and more importantly, devotion.  It’s a tradition passed down the matriarchal line from generation to generation in African and African-American communities.  Grandmothers’ hands guide mothers’ hands, who guide their daughters’ hands. 

Clifton Green is doing no small thing.  Not only is he crossing racial lines, he is crossing gender lines by using his hands to weave love into Miriam’s hair. 

There is no one-size-fits-all June 16, 2008

I understand the issues in the New York Times article quite well.  It’s why I was left feeling conflicted.  My husband Seth and I have been working out our own parental balancing act since our daughter Ahleia was born last year.  Seth also has a son from a previous marriage and had very intentionally chosen to be actively involved in River’s daily life and upbringing through his own version of equally-shared parenting with his ex-wife.  Yet, things shifted a bit more radically once Ahleia was born.

My mothering began with fathering

They actually began shifting within 24 hours of Ahleia’s birth.  I had a massive post-partum hemmorhage and am fortunate to be here, writing about it now.  I was in the hospital for about a week after she was born, and for a while could not do much other than hold her from time to time.  For the first two weeks of her life, I did not change a single diaper.  It was her father who took care of her – changed her diapers, soothed her and helped feed her.  All while simultaneously tending to me, chasing down the lactation consultants and updating our families on my progress.  Once I was home, my friend Sharon, my mother and mother-in-law all spent time helping out until I could take care of Ahleia without assistance.

But in the beginning, Seth did it all. 

Yay for FWA!

I took four months of maternity leave and prior to my return, my manager called me to discuss how we would restructure my work schedule.  I was easily able to negotiate a four day full-time work week.  I go into the office three days and work from home one day per week.  Seth retained his normal five day schedule.  No one at his job asked him if he wanted to pursue a flexible-work arrangement.  I’m sure it never even occurred to them. 

Most companies just don’t get that productivity and results do not always result from five days in the office right under the boss’s nose.  I’ve also been telecommuting at least part of the work week for the past 8 years, as part of a virtual team based in several offices in the U.S. and India.

However, the article tends to give corporate America a bad rap.  Granted, many companies need to get a reality check, but don’t assume you will always have to battle it out with The Man in order to have quality time with your family.  I think a lot of it has to do with the size of the company you work for, their acceptance of diversity and how clued in management is about how technology can make people work smarter and more efficiently. 

Flex time = free time, right?

Ironically, there is a lingering perception that I have more flexibility in my schedule because of my “flexible work arrangement.”  There was an interesting point mentioned in the article – that women’s jobs are always perceived as being more flexible than men’s, regardless of their job title or responsibilities.  That perception was challenged recently when our nanny was bed-ridden after a nasty case of gastroenteritis and I could not just take two days off to watch Ahleia.  Ultimately, Seth and I had to find ways to modify our schedules so that one of us could watch her while the other one worked.  I won’t say it went smoothly or easily, but we got through it.  

Tie one on (the apron, that is)

I travel for my job.  My husband does not.  Sometimes the travel is infrequent, but during certain times of the year, I may be on a plane two or three times a month.  When I do go out of town, he takes on the responsibility of caring for two children, in addition to his full-time job and all of the normal household tasks.  It’s like being a temporary single parent, but he doesn’t complain and he actively supports my career. 

On Thursday, I’m leaving for India for 9 days, which is a long time to be away from my family.  It’s also a long time for him to assume total responsibility for the kids, the house, the dog…everything.  I’m sure he’ll return the favor one day. 

Happy Father’s Day!

Two to Tango: The Pitfalls of “Equal” Parenting June 14, 2008

I just got through reading the New York Times Magazine article, “When Mom and Dad Share it All” and although I was initially enthusiastic, as I read more I felt increasingly convinced that on some levels, the “equal parenting” model felt contrived, a kind of new social construction. 

The family tableau

One of the couples interviewed for the story, Marc and Amy Vachon, seemed to have figured out (with considerable effort on their part) an “equal-parenting” model and are evangelists for the ESP (equally-shared parenting) lifestyle.  However, the article’s lead in photo disturbed me. 

It had obviously been digitally altered to give it that odd, flat 70’s-era brownish duotone.  The family of 4 are likewise engaged in some rather disjointed activities.  The mom, Amy, is seated at the upright piano (looking eerily like my junior high school chorus teacher) while her daughter is very intently playing violin.  Her son is happily whacking on the tambourine, oblivious to the “serious” music his mother and sister are making.  But the most telling detail?  Just to the left, partially obscured by the frame, is the dad, folding laundry. 

I’m not knocking the Vachons’ intentions, which are admirable, but the photo looks almost as staged as the “Domestic Bliss” photo session Brangelina did for W magazine, perpetuating the prevailing American myth of the ideal family structure.   

Dystopia, or, this is how it really is

The composition is a visual commentary on the inherent emptiness of the obligation to fulfill roles, and that establishing “fairness” can also create unintended effects.  It struck me that Marc Vachon is relegated to the sidelines, much as dads have usually been - even though he’s set up as the exemplar of the involved dad/partner and  counterpoint to the statistics bearing witness to how women primarily assume the bulk of the mundane household chores.  Instead, it’s Amy Vachon, with her perfect posture, nodding her head in time with the music, that functions as the picture’s subject.  

As a feminist, I guess I’m supposed to feel a voyeuristic tingle of excitement: Amy doesn’t have to wash those tighty-whities if she doesn’t want to!  And yet, why do I keep feeling like this insistence on absolute equality comes with a price somewhere in the deepest recesses of our emotional existence?  One thing that my husband points out to me from time to time, which is as instructive as it is troubling, is that even though he may take on more responsibility for chores around the house or caring for our daughter, I don’t necessarily seem any less tired or stressed out than I was before – even though I do appreciate his involvement. So maybe parents are really battling something bigger than who does the dishes or puts the baby down for sleep at night.

We are not Devo (or Brangelina, for that matter)

The article itemizes how the Vachons negotiated household chores, daycare roles and work schedules and eventually achieved an enviable level of partnership parity, but as the saying goes, a picture tells a thousand words.  Just as the Brangelina spread was attempting to mythologize a family tableau that never actually existed for most people, the Vachon family tableau doesn’t exist for most families either. 

What I think what struck me the most in that photo was that no one, except maybe the son, looked like they were having a good time at all.