When
Lisa Belkin's controversial article, "The Opt-Out
Revolution," appeared in October 2003, a maelstrom ensued.
I was a brand-new mother of a six-week-old baby, and I remember
peering through the haze of sleep deprivation to read the pages
of The New York Times Magazine, feeling my general state
of confusion only exacerbated by Belkin's piece. Two years later,
as I think back on that moment -- before I knew how many letters
would be written in response to her article, how many tempers would
flare and positions taken, how many additional articles and books
I myself would read on the subject of motherhood -- I realize that
Belkin's article, for better or worse, marked my own entry into
the mainstream public discussion about parenthood, work, and family.
This conversation, of course, had been going on long before "The
Opt Out Revolution" hit the newsstands, and it continues today.
But it was Belkin's piece, a feature that profiled the career-to-stay-at-home
trajectories of several mothers who had graduated from Princeton,
that seemed to catch everyone's attention. Most readers no doubt
remember the scathing critiques and serious objections levied by
fellow journalists (including Salon's Joan
Walsh and The Nation's Katha
Pollitt), not to mention the numerous Times readers
who penned letters to the editor. Many objected to Belkin's focus
on affluent, professional women who have the option of staying at
home instead of addressing the financial and childcare issues faced
by most mothers in the U.S. Others were outraged at the author's
(mis)interpretation of statistics, over-reliance on anecdote, and
highly questionable conclusion that these women represented a trend,
and still others protested the author's portrayal of her subjects'
lives in terms of the personal dilemmas of individual choice instead
of the systemic issues restricting the kinds of choices women have
(for example, might it be more accurate to say that instead of "opting
out," the women in her article had been "pushed out"?).
At the same time, the article resonated with many women who felt
that the hurdles facing mothers in the workplace had not received
adequate attention on a national level. (Robert Drago, Professor
of Labor Studies and Women's Studies at Penn State University, explains
that "Belkin struck a chord because of the stark choices professional
women face: be an absentee parent or do not parent, or quit your
job.") Finally, as writer and scholar Miriam
Peskowitz astutely points out in The Truth Behind the Mommy
Wars, many readers simply seemed angry that they didn't have
all the choices they needed, and angry that someone else might have
more.
Much has happened since this furor erupted. When I first began
to reflect on where we are, two years after the publication of "The
Opt-Out Revolution," I thought I would write about how much
the conversation has changed -- how we'd moved onto more complex
framings of the issues, based in large part on the work of social
scientists, economists, policy analysts, journalists, and activists.
Ongoing work/life research directs us to think beyond the mothers
in Belkin's piece to consider the wide range of individuals who
parent -- individuals with a diverse range of socioeconomic, ethnic,
and educational backgrounds -- and furthermore suggests multiple
alternative frameworks for understanding what's going on. Much,
if not most, of this research points toward an examination of the
workplace and its policies, not the choices of individual
women. In all fairness, I've even heard Belkin herself call for
a reframing of the debate. As the Times' work/life columnist,
she has continued to participate in the public discussion about
these issues. When asked at a September 2005 panel at Barnard College
where she thought the dialogue should go, Belkin had a ready response:
"We need to make this conversation about parenting, not just
about women's issues."
But only six days after I heard Belkin speak, The New York
Times ran Louise Story's front-page article, "Many Women
at Elite Colleges Set Career Path to Motherhood." As MMO's
own Judith
Stadtman Tucker observed, it was "The Opt-Out Revolution"
redux, only this time, the college students interviewed in the article
weren't even planning to opt in. Once again, letter writers
and journalists, including Slate's Jack
Shafer and The American Prospect's Garance
Franke-Ruta, tore the reporting apart. Belkin's piece hovered
in the background of this"'revived debate" (as the headline
for the Times Letters section put it), and a collective
frustration permeated many of the responses to the article. In the
face of so much research suggesting other kinds of stories that
could have appeared on the front page of The New York Times,
why did another opt-out article appear -- not to mention one about
the ivy-clad set? (Full disclosure here: I'm a Yale graduate, and
a college professor to boot, though the state university where I
teach is not quite so ivy clad.) To quote my favorite letter in
response to Story's article, "I'm glad that the things I declared
when I was 19 about what I was going to do with my life didn't make
front-page news." Exactly. Why, then, is the media so eager
to label this as news?
Here
we go, again
At the risk of boring those as weary
of deconstructing the opt-out story as I am, I'll mention some of
the more salient points others have made: that media coverage of
work/life family issues are framed as lifestyle stories targeted
at a particular demographic, and that reporters reinforce this story
with their choice of interviewees and the questions they ask (Joan
Williams); that stories about opting out make better copy than the
ordinary lives of most working parents (Rosalind Barnett and Caryl
Rivers); that media gender bias may play a role (Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner);
that the history of the "opt-out" stretches back to the
1980s, when a spate of media stories proclaimed, incorrectly, that
women were "bailing out" of the workforce (Susan Faludi);
that alternative work/life stories are fighting to be heard amongst
the "din" of our information-saturated age (Linda Basch,
Ilene Lang, and Deborah Merrill-Sands). To these media analyses
we could add Susan Douglas and Meredith Michaels's argument in The
Mommy Myth that a greater conservative cultural backlash
against changing gender roles has affected the way many individuals
and institutions view and portray motherhood. Perhaps the popularity
of the opt-out story suggests that our country still prefers to
think about family and motherhood in terms of personal values and
choices and not in socioeconomic or political terms; and that to
do so, many believe, would require us to adopt very un-American,
European-style social policies interfering with our competitive
capitalist edge. (This runs contrary to much work/life research,
such as studies done by the Families
and Work Institute and Catalyst,
which suggest that workplace flexibility enhances productivity.)
All of this threatens to make opting out into what Judith Warner
in Perfect
Madness calls a "master narrative," a story that
"we tell now about women's progress and the problems of motherhood"
for all women.
On an individual level,
for women whose work patterns are far more complicated than the
public narrative of the "opt out revolution" implies,
the ready phrase "opting out" may provide an easier explanation
-- to the women themselves, or to others -- than calling out the
complex array of cultural, structural, economic and personal pressures
that influence mothers' behavior. As Peskowitz points out, it's
a lot easier to use a rhetoric of personal choice (so popular in
this country, and so dominant at this particular moment) than to
acknowledge the greater forces that often compel us to make certain
choices. The latter runs the risk of inviting questions and of being
construed as "complaining" in a culture where "we're
supposed to be agents of our own freedom, not trod-upon workers
who complain." Thus, the rationale of "opting out"
may be more comforting and socially acceptable than the assertion
that mothers' employment options are often circumscribed by factors
that can't be overcome by ingenuity or will. From another point
of view, resorting to the "opt out" explanation hints
of self-deception and prevents women from seeing their own situations
as part of a greater, societal problem.
Ultimately, of course,
what's at stake is how we frame our understanding of the issues
-- whether we see our own struggles in connection with the struggles
of other mothers, in the context of greater socioeconomic forces,
or whether we view our own lives as individual stories. For this
reason, many have been working to situate the popular debate in
a larger frame. Numerous researchers and research institutions,
policy analysts, journalists, and feminists have called for a change
in the existing rhetoric. Again and again, they have argued for
a more accurate, complex, and diverse accounting of motherhood (and
fatherhood) in the U.S. As Families and Work Institute Vice President
Lois Backon argued at an "Opting Different" panel sponsored
by the National Council for Research on Women in June 2005: "We
need to reframe the work/life discussion for the entire workforce,
women and men."
The list of those working
to recast the dialogue is a long and familiar one to those who follow
the work/life field. Some of these researchers have also tried to
influence public rhetoric more directly, by suggesting specific
stories the media could pursue. A recent AlterNet
article by scholars associated with the National Association
for Research on Women, Catalyst and the Center for Gender in Organizations
at Simmons College ("What Women Want: A Rebuttal to the Times,"
by Linda Basch, Ilene Lang, and Deborah Merrill-Sands, 3 Oct 05),
provides one of the best overviews of the facts and research disputing
the opt-out story to date and suggests alternative stories the media
could be covering, with headlines such as "Gen X Men Crave
Work/Life Balance Too" and "Stay-at-Home Moms By Default,
not Design." Similarly, Joan
Williams, Distinguished Professor of Law and Director of the
Center for WorkLife Law at University of California Hastings College
of Law, has made detailed
recommendations regarding how to change the media coverage of
work and family, proposing stories about the persistence of a "maternal
wall," employers' unexamined gender stereotyping of mothers,
and recent courtroom successes in legal challenges to various workplaces.
Ongoing research points to other potentially significant stories,
including Cornell sociologists Shelley
Correll and Stephen Benard's preliminary findings pointing to
the existence of a motherhood wage penalty.
There are, as well, plenty
of journalists and writers who have suggested alternative narratives
to the opt-out story. Ann Crittenden, Judith Warner, Miriam Peskowitz,
and Judith Stadtman Tucker, among others, have put forth alternative
narratives to describe various dimensions of early twenty-first
century motherhood in the U.S. -- Crittenden's "mommy tax,"
Warner's "mommy mystique," Peskowitz's "playground
revolution," Tucker's "mothers' movement" -- all
of which shift the lens away from its current setting on personal
choice and the implications of choice for identity (am I a working
mom? a stay-at-home mom? a work-from-home mom?) in order to focus
on broader questions of policy and politics. Their work, which is
smart, informed, and accessible, has certainly transformed my own
understanding of the issues. To what extent it will help move the
national dialogue forward still remains to be seen.
Opting
out or opting in?
Parenting and the third wave
Both Belkin's and Story's
opt-out articles raise a question: How are members of Gen X and
Y thinking about, and dealing with, motherhood (and fatherhood)?
Embedded in this question is the assumption (explicitly stated in
Belkin's piece) that second-wave feminism failed most American women,
the majority of whom still become mothers but who find, as they
embark on the simultaneous work of career and motherhood, that they're
doing both in a "half-changed world," to use journalist
Peggy Orenstein's phrase. Both articles -- particularly Story's
-- look at younger women to spot developments in the larger context
of not only how women are creating their lives, but also how younger
generations of women view (or don't view) their lives in relationship
to the feminist movement. Neither the college students in Story's
piece nor the representative Gen Xer in Belkin's article (who graduated
from college the same year I did) appear to suffer from guilt or
angst over their choices, as do the two older women profiled in
"The Opt-Out Revolution." (Belkin quotes the Gen Xer in
her article as saying, "I don't want to take on the mantle
of all womanhood and fight a fight for some sister who isn't really
my sister because I don't even know her.")
The danger, of course,
is that this quote, along with the quotes from the college students
in Story's article, becomes woven into a larger narrative about
Gen X and Y women. According to this narrative, younger women have
turned their backs on the gains of their feminist foremothers; they
opt out of their work lives easily; they do not view their individual
situations as political. In other words, this story divides -- a
point that becomes readily apparent when one looks at other opt-out
stories, such as the October 2004 60 Minutes segment, "Staying
at Home," which staged a conflict between the generations
by including a second-wave feminist mother (the only second waver
interviewed on the show) who criticized the choices of younger,
stay-at-home mothers.
Yet this conflict, like
the larger opt-out narrative, hardly represents the experiences
of all younger women (or of not-so-young women). Certainly none
of the thoughts and observations of any of these mothers, as represented
by the journalists who interviewed them, capture my own experience
of motherhood, which has been become fundamental to my understanding
of myself as a feminist. Nor do they represent the diverse experiences
of the wide range of twenty- and thirty- something women who have
been defining motherhood, family, and work in their own terms, in
print and on the internet, in the workplace and at the playground.
Thanks to the surge of
Gen X and Yers writing about motherhood -- particularly among those
who identify as third-wave feminist -- we're all a little more aware
of the incredible diversity of women with children in the U.S. The
smart, searching, irreverent, and frequently humorous autobiographical
essays, memoirs, and blogs of writers such as Ariel Gore, Bee Lavender,
Ayun Halliday, Faulkner Fox, Andrea Buchanan, and Cecelie Berry,
plus numerous others -- not to mention the many magazines, 'zines,
internet journals, and web sites they and others have launched (Hip
Mama; Brain,
Child; East
Village Inky, and so on) – "tell the truth"
about mothering (as Ariel Gore writes in Breeder) and/or
celebrate a radical, "hip mama" lifestyle in a culture
seemingly obsessed with upper middle-class motherhood. And while
some have criticized the third wave for being stuck on the personal
side of the "personal is political" equation, much of
their writing both complicates and challenges the opting out story.
In fact, according to Rowe-Finkbeiner (The F-Word), one
of the main third-wave responses to the opt-out debate has been
to question the relevance of the debate in the first place, which
she says has a "misplaced focus": "What we're really
looking at here is not an opt-our revolution, but a symptom of a
far greater problem -- very little family support in America."
Not all third-wave writing
about motherhood is autobiographical, however. Third-wave activist
and author Amy Richards (ManifestA, Grassroots)
is attempting to redefine the debate in her current work-in-progress,
Opting In: The Case for Motherhood and Feminism, which
will delve into feminist history and examine the relationship between
feminism and parenting. Richards describes the book as a "partial
response to Belkin." After reading the article, she was intrigued
by the way that the women profiled in the article seemed to stand
for the failure of feminism. "Why is it that working or not
working has become the feminist litmus test?" asks Richards.
"Feminist values go so much deeper, plus there are so many
working mothers who aren't feminist and vice versa." To add
to the confusion, many women think of feminism and motherhood as
in conflict: they can be one or the other, but not both. (While
some of this perception may be rooted in false stereotypes of feminism,
some is certainly based on reality; as Crittenden writes in The
Price of Motherhood, the majority of mainstream feminist organizations
have "not exactly stepped up to the plate for mothers.")
However, this either-or opposition is a "false dichotomy,"
says Richards. "One CAN be both." She wants to close the
gap between feminism and motherhood by articulating a feminism that's
truly pro-parent and that addresses the needs of families in practice
as well as theory.
Richards' comments suggest
one defining characteristic among many third wavers: a healthy sense
of entitlement, which may generate much of the desire to redefine
the terms of the opt-out debate. Peskowitz argues that many Gen
X and Y women "feel entitled to work, and have a family if
they want one, and they feel entitled to believe that these things
don't have to be opposites or separate or in conflict." They
have the urge, as Rowe-Finkbeiner puts it, to "search for new
solutions." Rowe-Finkbeiner is searching for her own solutions
in a new book she's writing with Joan Blades, co-founder of MoveOn.org.
Tentatively titled The Motherhood Manifesto, it attempts
to politicize the discussion and inspire individuals to advocate
for policy changes. "Motherhood in America is in crisis,"
observes the author, and while third wavers have done a lot of work
on "consciousness raising," she argues that they have
yet to undertake what they are poised to do: "advocate for
public policies and programs that truly support American families."
Rowe-Finkbeiner believes that a national movement based in achieving
these changes may come together soon: "The time is ripe to
take the next step of advocacy for public policies and programs
that truly support American families."
Like activist groups
such as MOTHERS, Rowe-Finkbeiner wants to politicize discussions
surrounding work and family. Will she, along with other journalists,
writers, researchers, and activists -- those I haven't mentioned
as well as those I have -- manage to change the narratives we tell
about motherhood in the U.S.? Will this then translate into social
policies that will truly help us live our lives? I don't know. I
would like to think the tide is turning, but I'm certainly not an
objective observer. What I do know is that coming to understand
my own situation, through a process of reading and writing, has
been central to my own sanity and sense of self. My deepest hope
is that our collective effort to rewrite the nation's narrative
about motherhood will succeed, and that the public dialogue will
begin to reflect what we each know, privately and deep within ourselves,
about the many different kinds of work we do as parents.
mmo : october 2005
Heather
Hewett is an Assistant Professor of English and Coordinator
of the Women's Studies Program at the State University of New York
at New Paltz. She has written for The Washington Post,
The Women's Review of Books, Brain, Child: The Magazine
for Thinking Mothers, The Scholar and Feminist Online,
and Chick Lit: The New Woman's Fiction (forthcoming from
Routledge).
The author would
like to thank Amy Richards, Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner and Miriam
Peskowitz for generously sharing their thoughts about the third
wave, mothering, and their works-in-progress via email and phone.
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