In your Reflection Blog, recall two or three situations from your childhood or early adulthood that had a formative impact on you. Describe the situations and relate how they impacted you. Pick situations that have affected how you act and feel in an organizational or team-based environment.
As an example of one situation, consider this story from your Course Developer, Daryl Watkins:
"In the summer of 1976, my family was going through tough economic times. I was 10 years old, turning 11. My dad was working two jobs and my mom was working full time and driving 40 miles each way into Los Angeles. My parents were up front with our family about our situation and about the sacrifices that they were making. I didn't want to be a distraction to them. I already had an independent spirit, but at that point, I went out and started a paper route. While my friends were busy planning bicentennial parades, I was wrestling up odd jobs with my neighbors. I would do hard jobs that no one else wanted to do. I can be a bit of a perfectionist, so I made sure that the jobs were done well. That summer, I dug up an entire yard full of ivy. I don't think I missed a single vine. To this day, I hate ivy!
In many ways, that was the beginning of my entrepreneurial spirit. I find inspiration in work that allows me to shape the agenda, determine the measures of quality, and set the timeline. That spirit is an important aspect of my personal preferences and to some extent has guided me into my current work."
When I was five years old, I remember watching the news and hearing about Don't Ask, Don't Tell, a United States policy focused on the service of gays and lesbians in the military instituted by the Clinton Administration. This was the first time I realized that gays and lesbians faced discrimination. I questioned my mother, who was a Reservist, about why liking the same sex would be such a big issue. She explained that some people felt uncomfortable sleeping and showering around people who were attracted to the same sex. I questioned further, why servicemen (who I believed to all be the most honorable people in existence) would assume that someone who liked the same sex would like everyone of the same sex - I knew that I was not interested in being everyone's friend, even if we were the same age - why would it not be the same for every categorization? She then explained that she did not have a big problem with it and had many gay friends. She then explained matter of factly that it was an extension of religious group's opposition to gay marriage. I was even more taken aback by this discovery - I always thought anyone could get married to anyone they wanted to! I asked my mother, what religions hated gay people? She told me that there were very few, and those who felt that way were not actually religious - they were using G-d as an excuse to spread hate. I think the reason I questioned this so much is because I had little understanding of homosexuality - what if I was gay? I thought that people were attractive or unattractive, regardless of sex, and was simply unsure of what "box" I fit into. Would I be hated? Would I be at risk for violence? Would I have my rights taken away? This anger stayed with me until high school when I joined a multicultural Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Ally (LGBTA) group. During my membership, I joined GLSEN, Inc., the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network, a national LGBTA organization that fights the discrimination of LGBT people. This organization solidified my assocation with the plight of gay people. I started the Day of Silence at my high school, a passive protest against anti-LGBT name-calling, bullying and harassment in schools. We petitioned the school to allow the group to decorate a hall for the annual International Week, and with 4 other high schools, petitioned the School District of Philadelphia to recognize October as Gay and Lesbian History Month.
After high school, I knew that I would continue to involve myself with organizations that dedicated themselves to challenging the status quo and working towards developing inclusive communities. Today, I am still as vocal against the discrimination of minority groups. In my position, I promote diversity initiatives and sit on the Diversity Advisory Board.
Another revelation of childhood was that I would never have children. I noticed my fear of babies, children, and pregnant women very young. I was six years old when my mother was pregnant with my younger brother. I watched her as she went from a modest-sized woman with ample capacities to a rounder, more tired woman, who looked absolutely pitiful. The bigger her stomach became, the more pitiful she looked. She complained about pains she never had before. She ate and acted awkwardly. She couldn’t run down the steps with me to go outside. And for some reason, I just wanted to push her over and squash that stupid growth, this cancer in her stomach that made her slower and more dependent on others. She could not carry as many grocery bags as before. And I cannot stress it more: she was sooo slow. I have never been too sympathetic or patient, but when I realized that she has done that to herself, I spited her. Who would do that to themselves, I wondered. And twice? My goodness, how many children did one family need?
I remember it being around Halloween when I realized a permanent change was coming. Everyone was awaiting this brand new "bundle of joy" that was supposed to exit my disfigured image of a mom. And then it happened. He was cute, but all he did was scream and soil himself, yet he was the one who received all of the attention. And her, because children were "blessings," not for their accomplishment, but just for existing. Alas, I realized that unsubstantiated honor which came with motherhood. Biology made her a part of a club of people that just about any woman could join. It was the excuse to not do anything else. My mother could have been anything if she had not had me and my brother at such a young age. She was in the military, and had dreams of finishing her services and going to college by way of the government. Never happened. She now was
just a mom. Her life could have turned out so much better.
When I addressed my mother for the first time about why she'd done it, why she'd never gone to college or become the journalist she was known for being in high school, she simply noted that, "life happened," which I finally read as "children happened." She, along with so many men and women, believe that parenthood is just the way to go when there's nowhere to go. When they're stuck. When they have no idea what they are meant to do with their existence.
Everyone else is doing it; it is the symbolization of adulthood, particularly womanhood. However, if throwing one's dreams away because of a lack of birth control is the definition of adulthood, there's good reason to note that 51% of pregnancies are unexpected or mistimed. More than half of our newly inducted adults are glorified for their genitals/genitalia working when they did not even want it to complete its duties (The Guttmacher Institute, 2015).
I look back now, and I can say that I did the best at every task that was placed in front of me. A’s. Awards. Ceremonies. Honors. Scholarships. Acceptances. A diploma. Free rides to college near and far. Meaningless to people who never tried to make these things happen. My childhood friends? All moms. No degrees. I remember at nineteen, my mother telling me, when (not
if, but
when) I had my first child while I was in college, she would take care of it until I graduated - I do not believe I have ever been so humored and offended in the same moment. I suppose she believed, like mother, like daughter. I felt so sorry for her assumption, and I was not sure if I was disappointing her by not messing up the grand opportunity of higher education, or if she truly felt that things were going too good for me to end up as I did. There was an air of envy and apathy at my graduation. I had two childhood friends who had begun college, then fell into the doom of their own recklessness. Many are victims of domestic abuse at the hands of their progeny's other half, in line with the epidemic of unexpected parents (Monea & Thomas, 2011). Very few are in relationships - none are married,
but they are mothers, the apex of womanhood! Like a baby’s functionality, some mothers have been gazed over and marveled due to nothing more than an uninterrupted chemical reaction. I wonder what could have been different if they had taken other options. Perhaps they are happy! Their conversations with me seem to show otherwise - wasting entire checks on childcare, having no time to be with friends, people questioning only about progeny - I just cannot understand the fulfillment piece in such a lifestyle. And for a long time, I thought I was alone!
At twenty-three, I was introduced to a professor at a small liberal arts college who was doing a study on minority childfree women, and was interested in speaking to me about my "experience." The discussions we had forced me to look back at my life and figure out where "the change" occurred - my choice to never reproduce. I suppose it happened when I started seeing young women - 14 and 15-years-old - tell me about how their boyfriends were belittling and hurting them. I suppose it solidified the first time I saw a classmate leave school due to pregnancy, and to never see them return to school again. I truly felt in my heart that I was sickened by reproduction when I realized that saw that women were stifled by marriage and children, particularly in their careers. I had no idea that my choice to not reproduce would land me in the company of some of the most intelligent, passionate women I would ever have the honor of knowing. Doctors, businesswomen, lifelong students, and more. I now feel limitless as a childfree woman - I have been able to move and climb up just about any ladder I have chosen. I don't have to play desperado for work. In fact, I can see the eyes light up of potential employers when I willingly note that I am not the typical minority woman scraping for an existence for a kid - and though I am troubled by the assumptions made for being a 20-something woman of color, I am relieved to not be a statistic. I do what I do because I love it, and I have relatively nothing holding me back. I could never imagine giving so much control over to a being that has simply run my spirit and body down. I could never see myself
loving in such conditions.
Alas, I am appreciative that I will move forward with a life dedicated to causes that can change the world, not simply one, two, three, four or five lives. I am thankful for the lives I have been able to impact and the ability to question other women who have been conditioned to believe being society's oven is the zenith of our existence. I now understand that reproduction is a choice, not a mandate, and I am eager to spread the word.
References
The Guttmacher Institute. (2015). Unintended Pregnancy in the United States. Accessed at
http://www.guttmacher.org/pubs/FB-Unintended-Pregnancy-US.html
Monea, Emily; Thomas, Adam. (2011). The High Cost of Unintended Pregnancy. Accessed at http://www.brookings.edu/research/papers/2011/07/unintended-pregnancy-thomas-monea