we Americans already knew that welfare mothers were monsters. Dear Bill Clinton, champion of women and children, signed the most disgusting welfare bill in American history—a bill more appropriate to Dickensian England, a bill basically reinstating the workhouse in millennial America. But, of course, we know the American poor deserve nothing. Poverty is, after all, un-American. America has abolished any definition of the worthy poor (children, mothers, the blind, the lame) and decided that they alone shall pay for the budget deficit run up by male politicians. After all, children have no votes—unlike savings-and-loan officers. Besides, the latter have lobbyists, and poor children naturally can’t afford them. So we have no worthy poor in the country I so lavishly fund with my taxes, but neither have we any child-care initiatives—let alone child care.
Even some reactionary countries—La Belle France, for example—have mother care, crèches, kindergartens, but in America we rely on nature red in tooth and claw, so crèches are seen as “creeping socialism,” and nobody’s allowed to have creeping socialism except the army and the nontaxpaying superrich.
Okay—welfare mommies are monsters, but what about entrepreneurial M.D. mommies? What about women who delayed childbearing to finish school, had babies in their thirties and forties, and work part-time? Well, now we learn that they, also, are monsters. Why? Because they don’t stay home full-time. Apparently all mommies are monsters—the indigent and the highly educated both deserve to watch their babies die.
Wait a minute. What happened here? Is this 1898 or 1998? It doesn’t seem to matter. Where motherhood is concerned we might as well be in Dickens’s England or Ibsen’s Norway or Hammurabi’s Persia. Mothers are, by definition, monsters. They’re either monsters because they’re poor or monsters because they’re rich. Where mothers are concerned, everything is a no-win situation.
Poor Louise was nice but somewhat incompetent. Maybe she did shake poor little Matty—the medical evidence is inconclusive. After all, she was a Brit, and Brits love caning kids; shaking is nothing to them. But Deborah was even worse than Louise. She was a doctor’s wife (and a doctor, but who cares?) who chose to work.
Both women have been thoroughly trashed. Nobody inveighs against the other Dr. Eappen—the one with a penis—and nobody screams that his baby deserves to die. Nobody talks about Matty, either. He’s just a dead baby. Dead babies have no votes and no lobbyists. No—what everyone carries on about is which woman is at fault.
The mommy or the nanny? The lady or the tiger? Women, by definition, are always guilty. Either they’re guilty of neglect or they’re guilty of abuse. Nobody asks about the father’s role or the grandparents’ role. If it takes a village to raise a child, as Hillary Clinton’s bestseller alleges, then that village consists of only two people: monster mother and monster au pair. Everyone else is off the hook. (Including a government that penalizes working moms in its tax policies, its immigration policies, and its lack of day care.)
How must Dr. Deborah Eappen feel, first losing her son and then facing this chorus of harpies (for the women-haters are often women)? Imagine the trauma of losing your baby, the trauma of reliving the pain at the trial, only to face the further trauma of trial by tabloid. Dr. Deborah chose her job because it allowed flexible hours. So did her husband, Dr. Sunil Eappen. But nobody’s blaming him. If we have come so far toward the ideal egalitarian marriage, then why does nobody discuss the couple ? Only the women are implicated. Both nanny and mommy face death by tabloid firing squad.
If the nanny trial is used as a litmus test for social change, then we must conclude that very little change has occurred. No wonder generation Y is full of young women who want to stay home with their babies! They
Even some reactionary countries—La Belle France, for example—have mother care, crèches, kindergartens, but in America we rely on nature red in tooth and claw, so crèches are seen as “creeping socialism,” and nobody’s allowed to have creeping socialism except the army and the nontaxpaying superrich.
Okay—welfare mommies are monsters, but what about entrepreneurial M.D. mommies? What about women who delayed childbearing to finish school, had babies in their thirties and forties, and work part-time? Well, now we learn that they, also, are monsters. Why? Because they don’t stay home full-time. Apparently all mommies are monsters—the indigent and the highly educated both deserve to watch their babies die.
Wait a minute. What happened here? Is this 1898 or 1998? It doesn’t seem to matter. Where motherhood is concerned we might as well be in Dickens’s England or Ibsen’s Norway or Hammurabi’s Persia. Mothers are, by definition, monsters. They’re either monsters because they’re poor or monsters because they’re rich. Where mothers are concerned, everything is a no-win situation.
Poor Louise was nice but somewhat incompetent. Maybe she did shake poor little Matty—the medical evidence is inconclusive. After all, she was a Brit, and Brits love caning kids; shaking is nothing to them. But Deborah was even worse than Louise. She was a doctor’s wife (and a doctor, but who cares?) who chose to work.
Both women have been thoroughly trashed. Nobody inveighs against the other Dr. Eappen—the one with a penis—and nobody screams that his baby deserves to die. Nobody talks about Matty, either. He’s just a dead baby. Dead babies have no votes and no lobbyists. No—what everyone carries on about is which woman is at fault.
The mommy or the nanny? The lady or the tiger? Women, by definition, are always guilty. Either they’re guilty of neglect or they’re guilty of abuse. Nobody asks about the father’s role or the grandparents’ role. If it takes a village to raise a child, as Hillary Clinton’s bestseller alleges, then that village consists of only two people: monster mother and monster au pair. Everyone else is off the hook. (Including a government that penalizes working moms in its tax policies, its immigration policies, and its lack of day care.)
How must Dr. Deborah Eappen feel, first losing her son and then facing this chorus of harpies (for the women-haters are often women)? Imagine the trauma of losing your baby, the trauma of reliving the pain at the trial, only to face the further trauma of trial by tabloid. Dr. Deborah chose her job because it allowed flexible hours. So did her husband, Dr. Sunil Eappen. But nobody’s blaming him. If we have come so far toward the ideal egalitarian marriage, then why does nobody discuss the couple ? Only the women are implicated. Both nanny and mommy face death by tabloid firing squad.
If the nanny trial is used as a litmus test for social change, then we must conclude that very little change has occurred. No wonder generation Y is full of young women who want to stay home with their babies! They
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