When I was first starting out in life, I worked for a time  at a Quaker high school, founded by the Society of Friends in the 1800s. It was  a socially conscious and committed environment. Often the school would host speakers  who had written about the troubles of our times and who could educate the  students in the whole truth of another people or country in crisis. It was on  one such occasion that I think I  first saw Ann Crittenden. I've never confirmed my strong impression that I saw  her speak about a book she authored in 1988, Sanctuary: A Story of American Conscience and Law in Collision. I  do possess an image of her sitting on stage in the school's auditorium,  answering questions and carefully explaining the plight of Central American  refugees and the role American churches were playing in sheltering them from  our legal system.  
                Maybe that's why I felt an instant recognition for Ann's  face on the book jacket when I received my copy of The Price of Motherhood. The first time I saw her up close, she was  gliding down an escalator, surrounded by her old friends from Dallas, Texas,  clad in a mini skirt, ready to deliver a speech on the economics of motherhood to  a group of businesswomen. She appeared so hip, and ready to take on the world.  I was with a group of mothers from the Dallas  and Plano, Texas chapters of Mothers & More who met  Ann at the bottom of the escalator. 
    
                  In the late 1990s, I found a cause -- or the cause found me.  I became a champion of mothers' rights, and the value of the all the work  mothers do in our society. Ann's book helped me crystallize my thinking on  motherhood issues; moreover, by talking to and connecting with thousands of  mothers around the country, Ann spread and nourished the seeds for a social movement  to sprout forth. My first contact with her started in my kitchen and lead to my  meeting her in Dallas. 
                I can't remember how I got the word out. I wanted to talk  with Ann Crittenden. A fellow Mothers & More member had mentioned The Price of Motherhood on our online  discussion forum about motherhood and society -- the POWER loop -- and I was on  a mission. I wanted to interview Ann for our 7,000 member publication, and I  wanted to her to join us for a group discussion on our email loop.  
                I was chopping away at a cupful of red and yellow bell  peppers and the phone rang. In that house we had an old wall phone. A voice  said, "Debra, this is Ann Crittenden. I wrote The Price of Motherhood and I heard you wanted to talk to me."  It was a good thing I hadn't started sautéing yet. Dinner would have to wait a  few more minutes. 
                I grabbed a pen and some paper. I raced to the small spiral  staircase in our front room and began peppering Ann with questions and taking  notes. She asked me about our organization, our members. The connection was made,  the interview was scheduled. We would work together to amplify her message. 
                How important was that first interview and subsequent member  conversation? It helped women in our organization cement values that we already  held as mothers, things we sensed but didn't have a name or language for, or  had only just begun naming. By reaching out to Mothers & More members as a  mentor and a mother -- as one of us -- Ann helped to move our work forward, as  she has with others in countless ways. She explained things in a way that made  sense and described what we recognized and wished for: 
                
                  One of my values/goals… is to have the entire society  reflect the caring, giving qualities that characterize a mother; the same  concern for the well-being of children and a respect for non-self-interested  behavior. But paradoxically, this can never be accomplished if mothers are  sidelined or marginalized or expected to be the only ones in society that  sacrifice their own interests. We are not there yet. One of the things that  struck me while reporting and speaking about the book is how many mothers still  do not quite believe that they are 'entitled' to greater support or  accommodation. (Mothers & More Power Loop,  July 2001).  
                 
                In March of this year, I was again able to hear Ann speak at  the 41st Annual Southern Methodist University Women's Symposium (SMU is her  alma mater). Five years after The Price  of Motherhood was published, Ann is still enlightening mothers. Around me  as she spoke that day I could see wide eyes, and I could sense the desire to  know more about how our society might do things differently, how to affect such  an enormous change.  
                As mothers, we have to be open to hearing about our own  vulnerability, and be willing to come together to talk about it. Recognizing  that there is a price to motherhood is the first step. Sustaining the  conversation and continuing the outreach is what I try to do every day as a  result of my conversations with Ann, and the groundbreaking message of her  book.  
                Of all the insights and 'ah-ha' moments I had while reading The Price of Motherhood, what remains  with me is Ann's observation that resources in the hands of mothers create  investment in children, and that raising children to thrive is an economically  beneficial activity. I always think of this concept, this truth, in the form of  an equation: as the necessity and worth of human capital rises, the importance  of care also increases. Mothers are the greatest economic engine of the last  and current century. Activities mothers engage in create wealth: both paid and  unpaid labor is real work with social and economic value. 
                When this message is conveyed to a roomful of mothers, they  get it. They also begin to see that our policies, the way we structure or  workplaces and our beliefs do not reflect this reality. 
                We're never going to see mothers go out on strike to make the  work we do more visible by withholding it. Mothers don't rally or call for a  massive work stoppage -- we would have a hard time neglecting those we love;  rather, we insist on contributing to the flourishing of others. We don't always  think about our own well-being. This dedication makes us advocates for every  cause but our own -- we often do not see the whole value of what we ourselves  do, and as The Price of Motherhood discusses, this blind-spot makes us our own worst enemies.  
                We've had five years of awakening to the price, the cost,  the value of what we do as mothers. We are still working on the means and the way  to make our work visible and understood by our entire society; yet because of Ann  Crittenden's remarkable book, the sleeping giant no longer slumbers. Mothers  are moving forward to tell the world that the most important job in the world  is the least valued -- and speaking our truth, the whole economic truth.  
                My copy of The Price  of Motherhood is loose in its binding. It has annotations and dog ears. I  am not a poster child for any library. I am an advocate because the book makes  the case for the high price of motherhood and the need to do something about  it.  
                MMO : may 2006  |