Most people, when they talk about the "mommy wars" are discussing the endless debate about whether or not it's better to be a stay-at-home mom or a work-outside-the-home mom. There's the shaming of "oh my god, you've "opted out" and are now bringing down all women everywhere." Then there is the lengthy discussion about "who makes a good mother." Then there are the "but I thought being a mom was an important job but now everyone thinks I'm boring" articles.
But I don't want to talk about any of THOSE aspects of the "mommy wars". I want to talk about the dynamics of the story hour.*
Since I wrote about my first story hour experience, I have gone to five story hours at four different libraries. Why so many? Well, I'm lucky enough to live in a large urban area and have probably a dozen libraries or more within ten miles of my house. Also, because I know Tori needs to spend more time around other kids and this is a great way to do it, and I want Tori to value libraries the way I do. But the real reason is because hardly anyone speaks to me at any of them, and I keep hoping I'm going to find the perfect fit.
Here are the stats and a brief accounting of each library:
Library 1
Located in the center of my inner-ring very old suburb, this one had the smallest attendance with only about ten parents and kids. While my town is demographically about 50% African American and 50% Caucasian (with a smattering of other races), two thirds of the children and parents present were white. Mostly moms present, but there was one dad. The story "hour" consisted of three books and three songs, with books and songs alternating, and a lovely and engaged story time coordinator. The parents all sat with their kids in a circle and participated in the activities (singing, clapping, mooing, etc). After story time, everyone hung around and the kids all played with the library-provided toys and books. This was my most friendly experience; almost every mother chatted with me a bit, although during play time the group split clearly along racial lines with the African-American moms going off to their own corner. Tori was mostly well behaved, not hitting or grabbing too much (with the major exception, of course, being the binky stealing episode).
Library 2
Located the next town over, another old inner-ring suburb, but one significantly more well-to-do than mine, and much less racially diverse (in fact, most folks in this town are white Catholics). This story hour happens to be at my library of choice (featuring the best book selection for adults, and cool trans-gendered librarians). This story hour was huge-- 32 kids and moms--and everyone was white, white, white. Here we were all shuttled off into special room for story hour, and the format was again three stories and songs alternating and the reader was enthusiastic and engaging. All the mothers eagerly participated, singing along and clapping, etc. The only mother that spoke to me at any length was also there for the first time, and a bit worried because she'd brought her three-year-old daughter to the "infant" story time and was afraid it would upset people. All other mothers ignored me completely, even when I spoke to them directly (all I got was faint smiles). Tori was very good and danced and sang and clapped and didn't steal any toys or binkys.
Library 3
Located two towns over, in an outer-ring suburb where all the big chain stores live, this one is in a solidly middle-class neighborhood. The format again included books and songs, but also included some counting games and other things, and was also in a separate room from the main children's section. About 25 kids and moms (and the same one dad that came to Library 1) were there and the group was almost all white but with two Indian moms and kids. This library offers two story hours, one at 10am and another at 11am, nearly every day of the week and has two librarians (additional bonus--a playground right next door). Who spoke to me? The two Indian women, and another mom with a ten-month-old daughter (her baby was wearing a black t-shirt--the only time I've seen a girl at these story hours not wearing pink or flowers or frills--and that includes Tori). Everyone else said "Thank you" to my complements about their kids and promptly turned away from me. Tori was well behaved and roamed the room at will, and I will say that every mom she stopped by included her in their singing and gave her big smiles.
Library 4
Located in West Philadelphia, near two major universities and the home base for the local anarchist movement, I thought that HERE was where I'd find my people. West Philly is pretty much like the United Nations; you name a country, and someone from there lives in West Philly. At this group the format included books, songs, and a craft (making play dough pizzas), but the librarian was very nervous and didn't let all the kids see the books while she read them, and she read too fast. None of the parents sang along to the music, so neither did the kids, adding to the librarian's anxiety. While there were only a dozen kids and parents there, this was by far the most ethnically diverse group--Tori was one of only three Caucasian kids and the crowd included at least four different languages being spoken. While everyone spoke to me, only one mom chatted with me at length and then the group split along racial lines again (there was another lone dad there, but he didn't even make eye contact). Tori was more tired and hungry this time and she had a hard time sitting still; she stole the librarian's puppet, tried to knock over the CD player, and ran out of the room three times. But because this library doesn't have a regular story hour, most of us were there for the first time.
...
So it seems that no matter what I do, I cannot crack the code and get these other moms to chat with me. I've included a lot of information above, but I really want to make it clear that I'm not basing my impressions on just one library, or just one town, or even one demographic or type of neighborhood. At each library I've wandered around the room, following Tori, and I've tried to say something chatty but mild to each mother I've met (like, "your daughter is beautiful!" or "I just love that dress on her"). The only folks that spoke to me long enough for introductions were at Library 1 (although today at Library 4 I thought I recognized someone, and we introduced ourselves). At each one I've kept my tattoos demurely covered, and I've arrived clean and unstained. But still, no luck in making new mom friends.
I have no doubt that Tori is benefiting from all these story times. She has a great time, and we're getting her lots of kid exposure. But I have not felt this ostracized by other women since I was in middle school. I realized that this was bothering me when I began contemplating going shopping for clothes for the first time since I left an outside-the-home job. I need to get some new clothes for cooler weather, and without even realizing it, I started looking online at outfits I've seen the other moms wearing at story hour--meaning, t-shirts covered with light hoodies and matching track pants.
Because I have noticed a uniform, and it's not just the clothes or the moms. The women all look very similar; hair is usually in a ponytail, and they all wear mascara but not lipstick. The little boys are all dressed in casual but rugged clothes, but the girls are always very girlie and almost ALL have something in their hair; barrettes or ponytails or ribbons or bows.
I do realize that this could change; after all, I have only gone to one place twice (tomorrow will be my third time at Library 2) and it could take a while for folks to become chatty. But the one factor that is present at each story hour is ME.
Sigh.
I know I intimidate people (this is a chronic problem for those of us with strong personalities) so it could be that. I have been the only "fat" mom at each library (although I'm sure some of those moms would claim they were fat, they weren't). I've been the only tattooed mom, and often the only one with just one child, and sometimes the only one without a ring (I get a rash under my wedding ring if I wear it all the time, and these days it's off more than it's on). But I do have a cute baby wearing cute clothes (often brand name!). So why can't I get any traction with these other moms?
I probably wouldn't even care if my little fledging play group hadn't died; the other mom in the group simply stopped responding to my emails. So I'm beginning to feel like there is something seriously wrong with me. What gives? I'm not really someone with low self-esteem, but MAN. Make me regularly face a bunch of women I don't know, and damn if I'm not just as awkward and uncomfortable as I was in seventh grade. Why do we, as moms, do this to each other?
I'll keep going to story hour, but I might have to stop thinking it's a place I'll make friends and instead just know it's a place that Tori will get to play with other kids and hear some good books being read. But that makes me very sad. I will say this; I'm not going to bother covering my tattoos anymore. Fuck it.
*I just want to note that all of this nonsense is the luxury of the middle and upper classes; poor women don't worry about this shit. They face other, more compelling issues like were discussed in the comment section of my last post, such as "If I get too big a raise I'll lose my state-funded health care and my kids will have to use the emergency room for their medical treatment" and "I can't afford regular daycare, so do I trust my kids to the woman down the street that runs an unlicensed daycare out of her house and chain smokes?" The so-called "Mommy Wars" are the luxury of the well-fed and the well off. So please know that I understand that as I talk about my recent experiences on the "mommy war" battlefront.
