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E D I T O R I A L
Interactivity
& Democracy
Rejected
Letters to the Editor was conceived in November
2006 by a sudden burst of an idea, an uttered sentence and some
enthusiastic interactions. Then, after a gestation period of only
a few months, the infant publication—yet unschooled as to
its potential consequences —was born on March 23, 2007.
From the beginning it was a homemade operation, a work in process.
In the beginning, none of us had any background as web designers
or programmers. We got some initial help but we didn’t know
how to make this technology work in a way that was fully consistent
with our vision. We were simply driven by the desire to create a
public square where informed thoughts and outlooks—those that
didn’t make their way past the watchdogs of public opinion—would
see the light of day.
As
we noted in our opening editorial:
“In major newspapers, the one remaining territory for
public voices is the letter to the editor page, a faint residue
of a time when public conversations and bold proposals shaped the
pages of the press. Through Rejected Letters to the Editor, we hope
to tilt that balance back towards the conversations and visions
of ordinary people.”
In one critical area, however, our web inexperience stood in the
way of our egalitarian objectives. We have not built the town hall
we wished to, where “the conversations and visions of ordinary
people” can take place ceaselessly. Where the discussions
and debates that are the essential nutrients of democracy can take
flight.
We have not provided a built-in mechanism for the content that we’ve
posted to provoke dynamic conversations on an ongoing basis. In
spite of our espoused aspirations, Rejected Letters to the Editor
has, to this point, been far too static.
Nostra culpa!
Fortunately, a goodly number of RLTE aficionados expressed their
concerns about this deficiency, and we have listened to them.
In this, our fourth issue, we have begun working to address this
paradox. Each published item is now followed by an opportunity for
readers to become writers, to offer comments and opinions that may
add to and/or dispute positions taken. While we will be making editorial
decisions regarding the suitability of comments submitted—just
as with the letters and op-eds we choose to publish—we hope
to responsibly expand the spectrum of visible ideas on an ongoing
basis. This way, the content of each issue will be growing continuously.
Please take advantage of this regrettably belated interactive potential.
Keep an eye on RLTE, keep focused, and keep the stone rolling.
We will be adding RSS feed capability this summer, and will continue
to make additional changes that will enhance the dynamism of this
publication. Send us your design and functional recommendations
and we will do our best to make Rejected Letters to the Editor
the participatory democratic forum of your dreams.
—Stuart
Ewen, Editor-in-Chief
—Robin Locke Monda, Managing
Editor
—Elizabeth Ewen, Editor-at-Large

Comments
will be reviewed and
posted on a daily basis.
| JUNE
19, 2007:
"This is a terrific addition.I love your website and
have told everyone I know about it. I did wonder why readers
couldn’t join in except by sending in their own rejected
letters. Now we can participate and I'm sure others will too.
I look forward to visiting the site again and again to see
what other members of the Rejected Letters Club have to say!"
—Emma Bell,
New York CIty
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C
U L T U R E I& II
D E A S
Mocking
Mom:
Joke or Hate Speech?
Written
by Paula J. Caplan, submitted to
The New York Times, Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, Boston Globe,
Baltimore Sun, San Francisco Chronicle and Atlanta Journal Constitution,
May 14, 2007.
Imagine: a stand-up comedian says, “I’ve gotta tell
you about this Black guy,” and people in the audience roll
their eyes and guffaw… just because the comedian said, “Black
guy.” We would recognize this as racism. But when a comedian
says, “I’ve gotta tell you about my mother,” and
people roll their eyes and guffaw, we don’t usually recognize
this as “momism,” prejudice against mothers.
Despite increased awareness of the damage done by nasty comments
about women in general, those who make such comments about women
who are mothers do so with impunity. The mocking and blaming of
mothers are committed by many who would not dream of telling a generally
sexist “joke” and would protest if someone else did
so. But replace the word “women” with the word “mothers,”
and anything goes. Mothers — and stepmothers and mothers-in-law
— are considered legitimate scapegoats, and when anyone objects,
as I regularly do, I hear, “Oh, but you don’t know my
mother!”
If
that stand-up comedian says, “I’ve gotta tell you about
my father!” the audience waits to hear what’s funny.
Simply being a father does not put one in an easily scapegoated
group; simply being a mother does. Why is the bumper sticker that
reads “Mother-in-law in trunk” considered hilarious,
and if it’s so funny, where is there no “Father-in-law
in trunk” sticker? Why do audiences laugh uproariously when
I observe, “No one ever says, ‘Thanks, Mom, for the
week’s worth of nourishing and tasty meals and the great job
of dusting the furniture’,” but wait silently for what
comes next when I say, “Does anyone ever say, ‘Thanks,
Dad, for the great work you did on the lawn’”? Except
on Mother’s Day and greeting cards, the thought of praising
women for mothering work strikes us as funny. Why? Because it is
unimaginable in a way that praising men for being good fathers is
not.
After 20 years of doing research, clinical work, teaching, and writing
about mothers, it recently struck me: Mother-blame is often hate
speech. So is the mockery of mothers. That sounds melodramatic;
we realize we put mothers down but don’t consider ourselves
frankly hateful. Hate speech, though, is vilification of a person
because of their membership in a demeaned group and is aimed to
shame, silence, intimidate, and otherwise control its targets. Here
is one common example: A major television network producer called
me last week, because she was doing a “light, funny”
piece about “meddling mothers.” Mothers are expected
to love and protect their children nonstop, but caring, conscientious
mothers are often labeled as meddling, intrusive, and controlling
or are simply ignored. So of course they feel ashamed, silenced,
intimidated. The most extreme and terrifying consequence of the
hatred of mothers is that the leading cause of death of pregnant
women in America is murder, usually by their male partners.
I worked in a clinic where no therapist described any mother as
good: They described mothers as either intrusive, smothering, and
overly emotional or cold, rejecting and — if the child was
male — castrating. How do demeaning, blaming, and name-calling
affect mothers? The same way they affect anyone: Mockery causes
shame, fear, and a sense of powerlessness. And because mothers are
blamed for anything that ever goes wrong with their children, other
effects include intense fear, anxiety, self-monitoring, and exertion
to the point of chronic exhaustion, because a mother’s worst
nightmare is her child being harmed. For more than two decades,
nearly every mother I meet has acknowledged constantly judging herself,
wondering whether she is intrusive and smothering or cold and rejecting.
It is virtually impossible to locate the narrow band of behavior
that seems acceptable for mothers.
How did it come to this? For centuries, mothers have been expected
to meet impossibly high standards and to do so without expressions
of appreciation and without credit for success, although they have
usually been the only ones blamed when anything bad happens to their
children. Empirical studies of therapists’ articles in clinical
journals have shown how far clinicians, regardless of their sex,
often reach in order to blame mothers. Even the kinds of information
they provide about patients’ fathers often differs from what
they provide about mothers: One professional reported that the patient’s
father was 36 and a bricklayer, while the mother was 34 and “nervous.”
And as a prominent radio host once said on-air just before interviewing
me when, as a misbehaving young boy, he was taken to a psychiatrist,
who asked what was wrong. He told the psychiatrist that his father
beat him; but soon, said the host, the psychiatrist had him blaming
his mother rather than his father.
Not long ago, mothers were expected to teach their daughters to
be sweet, passive, and selfless and to support their sons’
striving for independence, assertiveness, and achievement. They
were also expected to be perfect role models for their daughters,
showing how to be unfailingly good wives, mothers, and housekeepers.
With the women’s movement’s Second Wave, the entry of
increasing numbers of women into the paid workforce, and the rise
of Martha Stewart, expectations for mothers have only increased:
Now, they also have to teach their daughters to be assertive and
achievement-oriented and nevertheless avoid being threatening to
men who have traditional ideas about women. Mothers are expected
to execute flawlessly the tasks of wives, mothers, and housekeepers
while also holding down a paid job…and do it all with ease
and calm. Mothers who protest these superhuman standards are likely
to be called selfish, ungrateful, whiny, or strident.
Myths about mothers that pervade our culture, some casting mothers
in a negative light (Bad Mother myths) and some setting impossibly
high standards, so that mothers look bad because they fail to meet
them (Perfect Mother myths). It is fascinating that some myths are
mutually exclusive, such as the Perfect Mother myth that “Mothers
naturally know everything about raising happy, healthy children”
and the Bad Mother myth that “Mothers cannot raise happy,
healthy children without lots of help from experts.” Such
mutually exclusive myths serve the function of keeping mothers scapegoated:
With a myth for every occasion, everything mothers do can be used
to support the claim that they are deficient.
All of this happens in a social and political culture that has limited
high-quality, affordable daycare; underpays women relative to men;
and penalizes parents of both sexes when they leave work to care
for ill children: Women are “not truly committed to their
job,” and “What kind of man takes time off work to care
for a kid?!” Furthermore, despite the spate of books on “The
New Man,” the average father living with wife and children
still does less than one-third of the child- and household-related
chores, and many of those are the more visible, less daily and monotonous
kind (getting the car repaired, changing light bulbs). Compounding
mothers’ difficulties is the myth that women have achieved
equality in all respects and the only reason men don’t do
half the housework is that women are too controlling to “let”
them. This makes the contemporary mother, who tends to believe that
she is failing everyone — her children, partner, parents,
employer, workmates, friends — feel as crazy and inept as
Betty Friedan’s unhappy housewives of the 1970s: What’s
wrong with me, that I am so unhappy, frustrated, and absolutely
exhausted?
In a society that truly values mothers, mockery and vilification
of them would not be considered acceptable and certainly not funny.
In such a society, the myths of motherhood would be recognized as
unfair, crazy-making obstacles to the essential work of raising
daughters and sons.
—Paula J. Caplan, Ph.D., is a clinical and researcher psychologist
and the author of ten books, including The New Don’t Blame
Mother: Mending the Mother-Daughter Relationship.
She will teach “Myths of Motherhood” at Harvard University
this fall.
EDITOR’S
NOTE:
One of the interesting aspects of Paula Caplan’s Op-Ed
piece is that in its original usage—coined by writer Philip
Wylie in Generation of Vipers (1942)—“momism”
connoted a mother’s overbearing smothering of a child, and
the excessive attachment of a child to a mother, according to the
Wordsmith website. The online Thinkmap Visual Thesaurus offers “overshielding”
and “overprotection” as synonyms for “momism.”
Paula Caplan’s reappropriation of the term points to the momism
within Wylie and subsequent authors’ definition of “momism.”
Comments
will be reviewed and
posted on a daily basis.
| JUNE
29, 2007:
“As a mother, I found this to be a completely accurate
portrayal of our situation at this point in time. Excellent
letter. We are expected to do 3 jobs and do them all really
well (well paying career, perfect home, perfect children),
while being charming and calm and presenting children who
are clean, smart, well adjusted and happy. Also our husbands
should be content and get plenty of first rate sex, and be
able to present impeccably dressed wives with perfect figures.
It is also a plus if we can look ten years younger than we
are.
“Does anyone have any suggestions for how to turn this
around? How can we possibly adjust our situation so that everyone,
including ourselves, expects less of us? The fight is always
about balance, trying to make sure everyone in the family
has what they need without Mom collapsing in exhaustion in
the process. I, personally, think that no one is going to
settle for less, much less praise us for anything we do unless
the whole system collapses and we create something entirely
new. I am not holding my breath.”
—Mary Keane,
—New Jersey |
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