feminist parenting – Feminism and Religion

Mother Blues II: Interfaith Womanist Reflections on Nurturing a Resilient Bloom, part 2 by Chaz J

You can read part 1 here.

I remember confessing to a kindred spirit, also a therapist, heart heavy with a therapist’s sight: my daughter, a child of divorce. And I, who knew the long, shadowed roads— the substances, the destructive turns children take to bury unaddressed grief, hurt, and pain— this knowledge terrified me.

My friend, in turn, spoke of her own adopted daughter, of sudden, tearful storms for a birth family unseen. “This is her journey,” she said softly, “You cannot control the currents of her life. All you can do is stand with her, and teach her to navigate with a healthy heart.”

Until that moment, my fierce, unspoken goal was to shield my daughter from a therapist’s couch in twenty years’ time. But then, my friend’s truth cut through: “There is no perfect parent, and she will likely find her way to therapy no matter what you do. Just do your best and TRUST that she will be ok.”

This truth allowed me to soften, to release. Now, my purpose unfurls: to forge a bond with her, a healthy and vibrant connection that stretches through the wholeness of our days. I want her to know, beyond all shadow of doubt, that she can depend wholly on her mother, a steadfast harbor in every storm.

Mother Blues II: Interfaith Womanist Reflections on Nurturing a Resilient Bloom, part 1 by Chaz J

Even before her life unfurled beneath my heart, a quiet vow took root: to parent with purposeful grace. My unwavering compass points to this: to nurture an emotionally vibrant, confident, kind, compassionate, gentle, yet fiercely bold chocolate warrior queen, a child wholly devoted to her own radiant self. For in her spirit, I long to mend the broken echoes of my past, to see her soar where I once faltered, especially in the intricate landscape of the soul. She will possess a richness I only dreamed of; she will transcend.

Seven years, a fertile ground before her birth, from youth’s edge at twenty-two to twenty-nine, I dreamt of motherhood, shaping it idealistically. My spirit yearned to reweave the tapestry of mothering, to cast aside the heavy cloak of predetermined expectation: no longer would Black motherhood be synonymous with weariness, with anger’s sharp embrace, with bitterness, or a spirit held distorted and captive. I craved for her a vision unobstructed, a path where she could shatter the assigned roles that shadowed a Black girl’s journey into Black womanhood in this land. Above all, I wanted her to be FREE.

Talking about Death with my Daughter & Remembering Carol Christ

Recently, facing the reality that I do not have definitive or perhaps, static “answers” for my little one when she asks me about death, I find comfort in Carol’s words—in the idea that I don’t have to “answer” my daughter with one, forever “truth.” Because I have to ability to give her “enough,” at least for now.

As I sit down to write, I am reminded of a post I wrote many years ago entitled “Where Do Cat’s Go,” about my mother’s cat, Mimi, who passed away at the age of twenty-four. At that time, I was struggling with what death meant outside of an Evangelical Christian ideology. I had rejected the doctrine of heaven (and hell) itself; but doubt lingered. Fear still held sway over my emotions. I wanted to “believe in,” something else. Whether to regain control or simply for comfort, I hoped for new belief.

Carol Christ, who has touched so many of us, who was my teacher and whom I miss, replied to that post (paraphrasing here), “Why does [Mimi] have to go anywhere? Isn’t it enough that she is a loved and remembered part of life?”

At the time it was not enough. But recently, facing the reality that I do not have definitive or perhaps, static “answers” for my little one when she asks me about death, I find comfort in Carol’s words—in the idea that I don’t have to “answer” my daughter with one, forever “truth.” Because I have to ability to give her “enough,” at least for now.

As a feminist mom, I frequently think about what will give my daughter strength and a sense of her value outside of hetero-patriarchal standards. I am also an ex-vangelical agnostic married to an atheist. He and I want our daughter to have choice in her spirituality and freedom to explore her own directions. I think this is a good commitment, though it is frequently a little more difficult in practice. My partner wants to protect our daughter from all religion and Christianity in particular. I tend to take an educational approach, answering her questions about spiritual matters with, “well, people believe all sorts of things about that,” then listing several beliefs or mythologies that might give her some information on the matter.

Feminist Parenting About Sexuality – Hold on, because this is going to hurt by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir

I have been asked numerous times by numerous people over the years to write about feminist issues, especially regarding teaching kids about consent, pornography, and healthy sexuality. The reason I have not tackled this project yet is that I know full well most people—even people who think they want to know what I have to say, who think they probably agree with me to a large degree—will find what I have to say too overwhelming, depressing, and painful to handle.

People have interesting perceptions of me, which shape their expectations of what I will say. I am generally cheerful and affirming to be around. I frequently advocate for justice issues by speaking with passion and blunt honesty in ways people find uncomfortable or comforting, depending on where they stand on that particular issue. People want to feel safe and affirmed by me personally, but they also want me to keep speaking out about justice—so long as I do not make them too uncomfortable.

Feminist Parenting Part 3—Les Misérable Mothers, why is this so %$@# haaaaard?! by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir

Life has been challenging lately – I’m sure you can relate. Normal emotional and financial stress are worsened by COVID-19 and the election— and I’ve often said that there’s nothing like motherhood for making us feel like failures… It’s as though our brains are incapable of seeing anything but the things we have left undone or done badly. And it is often excruciatingly hard to be a calm, patient parent when the kids start getting wild, or someone breaks something, or the <expletive> online form won’t <expletive> work on my <expletive> phone.

…Why is it so hard to feel “good enough?” Could it be because patriarchy benefits from making the female class feel constantly insecure and unworthy? Continue reading “Feminist Parenting Part 3—Les Misérable Mothers, why is this so %$@# haaaaard?! by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir”

Feminist Parenting, Part 2 — What are Children? Are Children Human? by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir

The first thing I do in parenting courses is ask students their most basic beliefs about children. Students are startled by this opening slide, “what are children?” The obvious, knee-jerk response to the question, “Are children human?” is “Of course!” It seems like an unnecessary, bizarre question to ask.

However, many parents and societies treat children as though they are not fully human. Children are valuable, but they are not given the respect, trust, and basic human rights that we generally say humans should receive. Actually, most people treat children with coercion, humiliation, and distrust – as though children are willfully bad and thoughtless. Every time parents give a “consequence” (imposed punishment) for “bad behavior,” they are telling the child that she is a bad person, who needs to be “kept in line” by punitive measures. Every time parents tell children to eat this before they can eat that, or that they must put on a coat if they are to go outside, parents are sending the message that children do not deserve bodily autonomy, do not have the right to make basic decisions about their own bodies, are incompetent. That is anti-feminist parenting. Continue reading “Feminist Parenting, Part 2 — What are Children? Are Children Human? by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir”

Feminist Parenting: How you treat children is how you see yourself – Part 1 by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir

I lived with my mother until I was 11 years old. In all that time, she never once told me to “be good,” and I can count on one hand the number of times she ever punished me for anything. She was strict, and she often used the infuriating answer “Because I said so,” but she called us her “angels,” and we got along wonderfully.

Then one day, I was abruptly moved in with my father, against my will (and against my mother’s will). Suddenly, without understanding why, I was always in trouble. When I least expected it, I would be chastised and punished. I was not allowed boundaries – my clothes were borrowed without asking, my belongings given away to my half-siblings without asking, my mail opened and read, my phone conversations eavesdropped onto, and I was lectured regularly about the bad things I probably wanted to do and must not do and would be punished if I did them. Continue reading “Feminist Parenting: How you treat children is how you see yourself – Part 1 by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir”

Missing a Teachable Moment: The Purple Dress by Marilyn R. Freedman

Intelligent and impish eyes took in my approach, and the little girl moved away from the post office doors. But not before I saw her sweet face with round cheeks still full of baby fat squished against the glass. With slightly messy, curly blond hair and wearing a shiny, deep purple, ruffled dress-up dress, she looked pretty, happy, and confident. This was her world, wherever she was. When I smiled, though, she turned away, shy of a stranger.

I got into the long line with my kid and listened to the little girl’s dad discuss gift card values with her older brother. The boy named an amount, and the dad commented about how expensive it was. “What a great way to teach a little economics and finance,” I thought.

Continue reading “Missing a Teachable Moment: The Purple Dress by Marilyn R. Freedman”