Thursday, September 02, 2004

Teacher's Pet

The instructor for my (still grimacing as I type...) Meanings of Motherhood class called me last night at about 6:00, and immediately aroused my suspicion. What kind of mother calls another mother at 6:00? Our knives are out at 6:00! We're crushing garlic, slicing onions, handling raw meat! We cannot leave these kitchen hazards unattended to answer phone calls! But then I realized, with a sort of bemused astonishment, that I am not the center of the actual universe (only of my universe) and that not every mother has to worry about having their sharper-than-Satan's-nails cutlery out on the counter.

Still, the question remained: how could I possible take this phone call?

The answer: five Skittles each, quickly dispensed. I then ran upstairs, hightailed it into the bathroom, and locked the door. I had bought myself ten minutes, tops.

She was calling, she said, to get a sense of each of her students and better tailor our reading and discussion to our particular needs. How old were my children? she asked. And what issues interested me? Funny how I so desperately wanted to offer up a good answer; I suppose we never lose the desire to please our teachers.

"Um," I began with my usual lack of vocal prowess (why hadn't she just e-mailed? I'm good at e-mail), "let's see...motherhood as it relates to politics is interesting to me. I read somewhere--and I have no idea if this statement is based in fact--that if every mother registered to vote as a Democrat in Florida had voted, Gore would have won the election. Also, why don't mothers earn Social Security benefits? Aren't we raising children who will eventually support the system? Doesn't that count for anything? And I'm fascinated by the perception of motherhood in popular culture--the so-called "war" between working moms and stay-at-home moms, breastfeeding moms and bottle-feeding moms. All that. And the effect that motherhood has on artists and writers. Things like that."

I could hear the kids starting up the stairs. They are like a herd of wild horses. But louder. "More Skittles, Mom! More Skittles! Can we have more Skittles? Just three more Skittles? Puh-lease?"

I told her I had to go, she thanked me profusely, and I said how much I was looking forward to class. Which I am. Because another thing I'm interested in exploring is how bribing children with Skittles relates in any way to any of the myriad Meanings of Motherhood.

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