Motherhood and other Invisible Work

Today in the shower I leaned against the wall and birthed my pain.

Too much information?

It is for me. Yet at this time in my life I am inclined to overshare. It seems epidemic--this oversharing-- hence blogging and live jounals. Why the intense desire to share one's private thoughts? Why the voyeurism about our internal journeys? Perhaps we all wish to give a voice to our invisibility.

The universe offers me clues as I undertake my life's journey. Usually it is by repeating the same phrase from different people's mouths over a short period of time. In the past three weeks several people referred to "invisible work" in conversation with me. In each case, the term was used in a different context. However, I heard the universe call to me to explore the invisibility of the work I do.

Mothering (parenting) has become invisible. As a homeschooler I am ever aware of the lack of children in the 'adult' world. Take your 5 year old on the subway on a weekday, particularly at 5 PM and you will see what I mean. Children and childhood have a defined space in our society, and that space is separate from the every day experience of most adults. Most parents only see their children at home, or in child centered (yet adult controlled) spaces such as 'little league'.

When children are seen in the adult world, they are always expected to behave as though they know the ins and outs of the 'grown up' world.

The job of parenting has become outsourced, to daycare, to schools, to television. Yet, for a job that has been outsourced... both parents and children are working hard (apparently harder than ever). Parenting books, classrooms, and daycare centres have lists of accomplishments expected to be achieved on a specific time table. Tests and test scores... Magazine articles outline the educational benefits of play, because play without a goal lacks value. Yet, this work is to be done outside of the eyes of most society, so that when children do make appearances in the "real world" they will act "appropriately." If they do not act appropriately, there is tons of advice to offer the 'mother.'

What do we do when we hide our children from the world and then expect them to emerge as healthy adults and function in it? Firstly, and most tragically, we deny them and ourselves of joyful connection. This is not to say we do not have joyful connection with our children, but to say that the joyful connection of a whole and loving community can be forsaken by living a fragmented life.

Secondly, by hiding the job of child rearing and relegating childhood to specific 'child friendly' spaces, we hide children from the normalcy of life and life of from the normalcy of children.

Lets look at that more closely:

Separating children from normal life means not allowing them to see adults in interaction with each other and them. It means 'protecting' them by managing their play. It means denying them exposure to the politics of the public sphere. It means sterilizing life for them, so that when they actually 'begin to live it' (sarcasm) they will not have the tools to deal with it.

Separating life from normal children results in an expectation that children will have skills that they could not learn without honest interaction with a broader community. A co-op I belong to recently discussed a member's proposal wanting 'adult only' shopping time, because some young children 'do not know how to behave in the store.' The preference would be to discourage parents from shopping with their children.

Perhaps if childhood and parenting had not been made invisible for so many years those members who find children so aberrant would have learned the reality of childhood and recalled their own childhoods. One would hope that awareness would arise from the integration of childhood into 'real' daily life and compassion, connection and understanding would be the result.

The pain I birthed this morning was buried for years. My arose through a process of 'invisible work' in therapy, through reading, through journalling. Most importantly, it became buried because I was a child in an world where childhood is invisible.