Saturday, March 19, 2011

Day 529

 I was flicking through some old emails this morning.  I found a folder in Outlook titled "Inspiration" so I dived in for a look see. I found an old email I'd actually sent to my bestie and my cousin about motherhood.  It seems I had sent it to them when I was having a battle with my "purpose" in life outside the workforce.  Back in mid-late 2008.  I'd had a bit of a "break down" at the time. That was right before I set up my own business, around the time I set up the original cheerleading squad, before I had written the children's books. It was when I was at home dedicating all my time to the most important job of all. 

Anyway, I have no idea where the original message came from, who wrote it, or whose story it actually is but I liked it enough to pass it on. I prefaced the email with the following message:

Dear Estelle and Cath

Because you were both there for me last week as I started to climb out of the valley of my breakdown … I thought I would share this with you … it landed at my computer today.


A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 's office,
Was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

'What I mean is, ' explained the recorder,
'do you have a job or are you just a ...?'

'Of course I have a job,' snapped the woman.

'I'm a Mum.'

'We don't list 'Mum' as an occupation,
'housewife' covers it,'
Said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself
In the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall,

The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised,
Efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like,
'Official Interrogator' or 'Town Registrar.'

'What is your occupation?' she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know.
The words simply popped out.
'I'm a Research Associate in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations.'

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in m midair and
Looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.
Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written,
In bold, black ink on the official questionnaire
'Might I ask,' said the clerk with new interest,
'just what you do in your field?'

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice,
I heard myself reply,
'I have a continuing program of research,
(what mother doesn't)
In the laboratory and in the field,
(normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family)
And already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities,
(any mother care to disagree?)
And I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more li ke it).
But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers
And the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money.'

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
Completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,
(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program,
Testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more
Distinguished and indispensable to mankind than 'just another Mom.'

What a glorious career!
Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers
'Senior Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations'
And great grandmothers
'Executive Senior Research Associates?'
I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts '
Associate Research Assistants.'

(Author unknown .... but highly respected)

So with that I say three cheers for Research Assistants!! 

Happy Saturday everyone. I'm off to research the benefits of the Saturday arvo Nanna Nap .... 

1 comment :

  1. I appreciate your thoughts, and recall a time when, working in a hospital, casual staff would describe themselves as "just a casual" - it was an unintended derogatory term, much like your "just a mum".
    Isn't it amazing how we are so self deprecating we minimise our greatest achievements?


I love hearing your thoughts! Keep them rolling in :)

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