Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Susan B. Anthony – Fighting for Equality

By Kathleen Guthrie

Susan B. Anthony made her first public speech for women’s rights at the 1852 national convention in Syracuse, New York, and campaigned tirelessly throughout her life. When asked if women would ever be granted the right to vote, she once responded, “It is inevitable.” Yet it wasn’t until 1906, 14 years after her death, that American women finally achieved their goal with the passage of the 19th Amendment.

She also was the first non-allegorical woman to be featured on a circulating U.S. coin, the Susan B. Anthony dollar, which was minted in 1979, 1980, 1981, and 1999. I always thought this was cool, but didn’t know until recently that it’s ironic.

In 1872, Susan was arrested for voting illegally in the presidential election. Despite passionate arguments that invoked the recent passage of the 14th Amendment, which gave the privileges of citizenship to “all persons born or naturalized in the United States” (with no gender distinctions), she was convicted without being allowed to testify on her own behalf. The judge ordered the jury to find her guilty and then sentenced her with a fine of $100. Here’s where it gets fun: She responded by announcing, “I shall never pay a dollar of your unjust penalty.”

She never did. The embarrassed government never made any concerted effort to collect, and in fact, the trial fueled her notoriety and opened the doors to a bigger platform from which to spread her message of gender equality.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s finding inspiration in the stories of many of our “cheroes” (heroes who are childfree) as we celebrate National Women’s History Month.

Mary Cassatt

By Kathleen Guthrie

Mary Cassatt is one of my mother’s favorite Impressionists. She loves the tender portrayals of the mother gently bathing her toddler, gazing fondly as she nurses her beloved infant, or otherwise sharing precious and serene moments in daily life.

I have always wondered why there were no portraits of the tantrum, the lacy collar covered in barf, or the at-her-wits-end parent dealing with an explosive diaper as appalled diners look down from their stools in the snooty café. Maybe these images are missing from Mary’s portfolio because she idealized motherhood, because she fantasized about what it would be like, because she herself was childfree.

Not being privy to her private thoughts and longings, I can’t pose an answer to why she chose her subjects, but I can celebrate her enormous success as an artist.

Born into privilege in America in 1844, Mary traveled extensively as a child, then spent many of her working years in France. There were many obstacles. At times, her father, who objected her choice of career, paid for her basic living expenses, but refused to cover her painting supplies. One custom of the day was that women painters were not allowed to use live models. Nonetheless, she persevered and created an extraordinary career. Her first notable success came when her Two Women Throwing Flowers During Carnival was purchased at the 1872 Salon. Then she seemed to hit her stride, starting in 1879 when she displayed 11 works at the Impressionists exhibit—alongside Edgar Degas, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Claude Monet, and Paul Cézanne—and turned a profit. Her paintings have since sold for as much as $2.9 million.

In her later years, Mary advised major art collectors and encouraged them to donate their purchases to American art museums. For her many contributions to the art world, France awarded her with the Légion d’honneur in 1904. She championed women’s rights and, in 1915, included eighteen paintings in an exhibition that supported the women’s suffrage movement. Today her work is shown in prestigious museums around the world.

Maybe in her day she also heard, “You’re not a mother, how would you know?” But she sure knew what would appeal to generations of art lovers and collectors.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s finding inspiration in the stories of many of our “cheroes” (heroes who are childfree) as we celebrate National Women’s History Month.

Beatrix Potter

“Once upon a time, there were four little rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter.”

So begins one of the most enduring children’s stories of all time. The Tale of Peter Rabbit has sold approximately 45 million copies since it was first published in 1901, making it one of the best-selling books of all times, and making its author, Beatrix Potter, a household name.

Potter wrote the original Peter Rabbit story for the five-year-old son of her governess, and in it she captured the essence of childhood mischief and its consequences, dealt out by a firm but loving mother.

Beatrix Potter had no children of her own, and yet she has delighted millions of children for over a century with her 23 tales.

And my favorite bit of Beatrix Potter trivia? When The Tale of Peter Rabbit was rejected by six different publishers, Potter took the initiative and published the book herself. Go Bea!

Surviving

Today marks the 25th anniversary of the death of my father. 25 years have passed and I’ve grown from a teenage girl to a woman, but if I was sitting in a room with you, I still wouldn’t be able to tell you about my dad without my voice cracking.

Losing my dad was the single most significant thing that had ever happened to me. It changed the whole trajectory of my life and it colored everything I did for many, many years.

Then I found out I couldn’t have children.

In many ways that has trumped my father’s death. It has taken the title of Most Significant Event. It has changed the trajectory of my life in ways I could never have imagined, and it still colors everything that I do. But already I am able to tell you that I can’t have children, without my voice cracking. Because what losing my dad taught me is that life goes on and that I will survive. It does, and I will.

Last night I spoke about writing at the Wellness Community, a cancer support center near my home. I sat in a room with survivors, women whose Most Significant Event has given them an up-close view of their own mortality. Their diagnosis changed their lives and continues to color everything that they do. But they’re here, they’re talking (often with cracking voices), they’re telling their stories and they are surviving.

Life deals us blows; it’s the nature of the thing. But we go on and we survive. That’s what makes us human.

Saluting a Four-Star General

Photo credit: U.S. Army photo

By Kathleen Guthrie

To follow the trajectory of a Hollywood starlet or celebrity fashionista, just open the pages of a current pop culture magazine or click onto one of the gossip-fueled Web sites. You can read about their many romances, fashion hits and misses, critiques of past performances, and buzz about their latest projects.

Now, if you really want to be impressed by a rising star, visit www.army-mil, the official homepage of the United States Army, and read up on Ann E. Dunwoody. Her bio will dazzle you with its listing of her responsibilities and awards. Highlights include service in Desert Storm and being awarded the Distinguished Service Medal (twice) and the Legion of Merit (three times). In 2008, she further distinguished herself, and established her place in our history, when she became our first female four-star general.

I need to repeat that: Our first female four-star general.

In an organization that has been historically male-centric, this is an extraordinary achievement. Yet “… I grew up in a family that didn’t know what glass ceilings were,” she said at the time of her nomination. “This…only reaffirms what I have known to be true about the military throughout my career, that the doors continue to open for men and women in uniform.”

I was going to hail her as a trailblazer until I read this quote, an example of her humility, character, grace, and leadership: “I have never considered myself anything but a Soldier. I recognize that with this selection, some will view me as a trailblazer [yup], but it’s important that we remember the generations of women whose dedication, commitment, and quality of service helped open the doors of opportunity for us today.”

Join me in saluting General Ann E. Dunwoody, soldier, wife, childfree woman, and door opener.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s finding inspiration in the stories of many of our “cheroes” (heroes who are childfree) as we celebrate National Women’s History Month.

Whiny Wednesday – Thoughtless Comments

It’s Whiny Wednesday and I’ve been brewing a post for a couple of weeks about people who leave thoughtless comments on blogs.

I’ve come across several cases recently of commenters posting hateful or at least unthinking comments on blogs and websites. The worst was on an article about infertility that I reposted here. That article generated some of the most cruel and heartless comments I’ve ever read on the subject.

Then, last week a fellow blogger told me of her experience with an equally unpleasant throw away comment someone left on a blog she visits. It was one of those comments about the childless and childfree that we know in our hearts aren’t true, but that sting anyway. The words, bitter, pathetic and whiny are often associated with those stereotypes.

I know better than to read comments on news sites, because I always get riled up, and yet I do it anyway, and then find myself stomping around furious that someone could be so thoughtless and insensitive.

Finally last week, I had lunch with a friend who had published an article called My Husband, the Convicted Murderer on Salon.com. Her article spawned 122 comments, ranging from support and understanding to the inevitable hate mail variety. I asked her; “How do you deal with this?” and she gave me some helpful advice.

She said (and I’m paraphrasing here):

“Some people just come looking for a fight. They’re looking for controversy and they’re looking for someone to leave their darkest thoughts. The internet is the perfect, almost anonymous place to do that.”

She’s right. People come from all sorts of dark places, and often with their own personal agenda. Sometimes people post before they think, or they just don’t bother wasting energy thinking at all. There’s nothing we can do to help those people, and odds are, they don’t want to be helped or educated or enlightened. They just want to fight.

I feel very fortunate that most of the people who find this blog are coming with something positive to say. It has helped create the kind of community I’d envisioned when I first started this project. But when I venture out into the wider world and encounter the other kind of commenters out there, I’ll be sure to keep my friend’s advice in mind.

It’s Whiny Wednesday, so chime in to the discussion or feel free to have a whine of your own.

P.S. On the subject of other blogs, here’s an article tying in to our National Women’s History month series that I posted on Divine Caroline earlier this week.

Rosa Parks – Mother of the Civil Rights Movement

On December 1, 1955, a 42-year-old seamstress was making her way home from work. She was tired, her feet hurt, and although I don’t know this for a fact, I’m guessing she was feeling at odds with the world. She had two things that made her different, or more to the point, made her completely invisible. She was a black woman in segregated Alabama, and she was childless.

 

But when she refused to give up her seat to a white man, Rosa Parks made history. Her arrest sparked the beginning of the modern Civil Rights Movement in the U.S. and Rosa Parks’ name became synonymous with equality and the fight for civil rights.

 

What I love about Rosa Parks is that she never set out to change the world; she just quietly, peacefully demanded her rights. Her actions have changed millions of lives.

 

Rosa was married to Raymond Parks for 45 years. After his death, she founded the Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self-Development, to promote educational and historical programs for young people. In 1996, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and in 1999, she received a Congressional Gold Medal.

 

Rosa Parks is considered the Mother of the Modern Civil Rights Movement. She never had children of her own.

Billie Jean King

By Kathleen Guthrie

I was seven years old in 1973 when Billie Jean King beat the socks off Bobby Riggs in the infamous “Battle of the Sexes” tennis match. Riggs, a Wimbledon singles champion, had described himself as a male chauvinist pig who whole-heartedly opposed feminism. As proof, he once said, “If a woman wants to get in the headlines, she should have quintuplets.” Nearly 50 million people watched on television as Billie Jean showed him what true feminine power looked like: 6-4, 6-3, 6-3.

With that win—along with 12 Grand Slam titles, 16 Grand Slam women’s double titles, and 11 Grand Slam mixed doubles titles—Billie Jean led the way for girls and women to pursue sports for fun and as professionals. It was an extraordinary time in our history. With contributions from great female athletes and the 1972 passing of Title IX, which opened up school sports for girls in the U.S., suddenly, it was okay to get dirty, to be competitive, and to sweat! She may not have had children of her own, but I like to think of Billie Jean as the “mother” of all future female tennis players. We witness the fantastic athletic prowess of the Williams Sisters today in part because Billie Jean gave birth to our possibilities.

In 2009, Billie Jean was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in recognition for her work as an advocate for women’s rights and for the LGBT community. As part of the presentation, President Obama said, “This is a chance for me—and for the United States of America—to say ‘Thank you’ to some of the finest citizens of this country and of all countries.”

Thank you, Billie Jean, for being an extraordinary role model.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s finding inspiration in the stories of many of our “cheroes” (heroes who are childfree) as we celebrate National Women’s History Month.

Death Penalty for Women Who Miscarry

Ironic that, in this month of celebrating women who made history, this story should hit the headlines.

Kathleen Guthrie sent me this report:

As reported on MSNBC TV yesterday, Bobby Franklin, a Georgia lawmaker, has proposed a bill that would hold women criminally and legally accountable—and eligible for the death penalty—if they miscarry.

This isn’t just the case of one extreme politician. The bill has made it to the legislature, and similar bills are being considered in other states.

I am too stunned to be outraged yet; in fact the bill is so ludicrous that I find myself on the verge of laughing.

But really, it’s not funny.

The women who came before us fought hard for our reproductive rights, and yet it seems we are in constant danger of losing our grip on those rights.

I realize that this bill is a political vehicle to overturn abortion law, but what kind of a country do we live in where a law that would systematically wipe out women who are unable to reproduce make it any further than the first trash can?

Anne Sullivan – The Miracle Worker

Helen Keller opened up the world for the blind and deaf-blind, but she couldn’t have done it without the persistence and encouragement of her teacher, Anne Sullivan.

22-year old Anne Sullivan taught Helen Keller to communicate by spelling the names of objects into the palm of her hand. Her technique formed the blueprint for teaching blind, deaf-blind, and visually impaired children, and her methods are still used today.

In a letter to her friend Sophia Hopkins, Sullivan relayed the story of her breakthrough with Helen. She wrote:

“As the cold water gushed forth […] I spelled “w-a-t-e-r” in Helen’s free hand. The word coming so close upon the sensation of cold water rushing over her hand seemed to startle her. […] A new light came into her face. She spelled “water” several times. Then she dropped on the ground and asked for its name and pointed to the pump and the trellis, and suddenly turning round she asked for my name. I spelled ‘Teacher.'”

Sullivan added a postscript to the letter:

“Last night when I got in bed, she stole into my arms of her own accord and kissed me for the first time, and I thought my heart would burst, so full was it of joy.”

Anne Sullivan never had children of her own, and yet she was able to reach through to a child lost in a dark and silent world—something the child’s own parents had been unable to do.