I promise we didn’t plan this, buuut this video comes just in time for Mother’s Day in the US! We each talk a little bit about what motherhood/parenting means to us, and of course, each is different based on our own background.
For the past 18 years, I’ve straddled the hard and fine line of motherhood. I’ve guessed and second-guessed each and every decision because, unlike other relationships, you never really know if you did the “right” thing until years later.
Swim team is a perfect example. In 2008, my oldest daughter, Kesi almost drowned. She was nine. Consequently, we decided she should learn to swim. A few lessons later, she joined the swim team. I thought they’d be swimming once a day and training for light competition. Turns out they had two-a-days all summer, with weekly competitions, and a culminating all-state competition at the end of August.
“This is going to be a lot of work,” I announced after day one. “Do you think you can do it?”
Her raspy voice whispered from the backseat “Yeah. Do you think I can do it?”
That’s one of those think on your feet parenting kind of moments. And being myself, there was only one answer.
“Of course Kase! You can do anything you set your mind to.”
And she did. She worked her ass off training twice a day. She went from being the slowest, only African-American little girl swimmer in that pool, to having an amazing backstroke at the end of the summer competition.
So I did what we do here in the States. I signed her up to “train” during the fall and winter. Surely, if she worked through the winter months, she’d be even more awesome for the following summer.
By May of the following year, she quit. She was tired. She didn’t want to do it anymore.
Because Dwight and I firmly believe in not making children do what they don’t want to do, we allowed her to.
And I’ve always wondered if I should’ve made her do it. Have I lived up to my role as her mother? Was I supposed to teach her work ethic by making her swim? Was I supposed to give her some speech about not giving up just because you don’t feel like it?
Years later, will she tell her therapist that she wished her mother would’ve pushed her harder? Will her whole life hinge on if I made her pursue swim team a second year?
Eventually, I always come to the same conclusion. I…don’t…know. Parenting is a careful dance of allowing your child to be his or herself, while still being yourself. To do that, you have to know who that is. My role is to guide her. I’m here to show her how to stand confident in making decisions that are aligned with how she feels. I’m here to tell her that it’s okay to change her mind about something, even if she’s knee-deep in it and doesn’t see a way out. Like my Grannie says, “If you made your bed hard, then get out the bed.”
Today, my daughter is an 18 year-old senior on the cusp of high school graduation. Three years ago, she intended to complete a Cosmetology license at a trade school so that she could fulfill her then dream of doing hair. At that time, I felt just like I did when I watched her competing in that backstroke.
“That your daughter?” a passerby asked.
“Yep,” my husband and I proudly replied.
Just like swimming, somewhere along her path, she decided doing hair wasn’t for her. She changed her mind, and consequently changed the direction of her life. Now, she wants to go to college to be a Cosmetic Chemist.
Although she hasn’t asked, the question still floats in the air, “Do you think I can do it?”
My answer is the same, “Of course Kase! You can do anything you set your mind to.”
And I hope she believes it. Because for me, that’s what mothering is all about. It’s parenting the person I see before me. It’s parenting an individual, not an identity. My daughter isn’t me. She’s her own person with her own experiences. In my mind, being a mother is helping her cultivate her self and her dreams, no matter how many times that changes.
On this Mother’s Day, I’d like to remind everyone that mothering looks as different as we do. Subsequently, I’m sure we’re all doing the best that we can in each moment. What do you think? How do you see motherhood? How do you think your mother saw her role?
I hate school supply lists. As a former high school English teacher, my back to school list was pretty minimal. Students needed a journal, a three-ring notebook, some paper, pens, and an open mind. However, the last time I taught public school was ten years ago and I can tell a lot has changed.
It became noticeable when my own children began attending public school. At first, I figured it was because they were in elementary. Early elementary teachers asked for things like sleeping mats, crayons, safety scissors, and glue sticks. Upper elementary school teachers’ lists were contingent upon what the girls were required to do that year. For example, sometimes teachers asked for the basics: pens, mechanical pencils, and graphing paper. Other times, supplies such as tri-fold boards were required for special projects.
But when my youngest daughter began fifth grade and my oldest started eighth, the already expensive school supply list turned into the dreaded school supply list.
The first two-thirds of the list was the same. The girls needed paper, notebooks, three-ring binders, and different colored folders. Great. The last third of the list was odd though. It included items, such as a pack of dry erase markers, a ream of copy paper or a 68 oz bottle of hand sanitizer. What was happening was clear. Schools were (and are) severely underfunded, and as a result, teachers also needed supplies just to do their jobs at a minimal level. Consequently, some teachers put the costs of basic public education onto the parents.
I thought it was just my children and our public school system. But after talking to my friends, there seemed to be different variations across the country.
My Texas friend showed me a list where the teacher had requested a tablecloth and $5.00 for “miscellaneous expenses.” Miscellaneous expenses? To whom do I give the $5? The teacher?
My North Carolina friend mentioned a request for a pack of glue sticks from each child. What if the teacher does receive one pack from each child? Won’t that be a few too many glue sticks?
My Illinois friend’s public school list includes lab and book fees that sometimes total $1000. And if they don’t pay it, then grades are withheld or students can’t register. Sounds like a public school with a private school mentality.
Again, I understand why the lists have changed. What I don’t understand is the delivery. So I thought maybe teachers needed a couple of suggestions:
- Add a header that reads Here are things that I would like to receive to make my job easier. That one might be too long, so here’s another: Wish List. Or maybe in my Illinois friend’s situation, the school could have a header called Expense Report that outlines where $1000 from each child goes. Don’t underestimate the value of headers. Parents want to know how their money is allocated. With headers, it is clear that this is what you absolutely have to purchase for your child’s success and this is what’s extra for the teacher to do his or her job.
- Another option is something I saw when I sent my oldest daughter to a charter school one year. Charter schools tell parents at the beginning of the school year that they are expected to “volunteer” a certain amount. Volunteering could either come in the form of time, money or products, such as extra supplies that were required to run a classroom. The expectation was universal, for all parents, not just the ones who would be driven by guilt, kindness or threats to spend extra money.
Most parents want to do what’s best for their children. And most parents value public education. But when you begin to combine the teacher’s wish list with the student’s required list, then you’re going to lose a little of the parents’ support and respect.
Are you a K-12 teacher? Please share how you ask for school supplies. If you’re a parent, do you have anything you’d add to this list of annoyances?