Jenn recently shared a NY Times piece calledThe National Womb, which is a project that documentary photographer Anastasia Taylor-Lind underrtook. The focus is a “birth encouragement program” that the disputed region of Nagorno-Karabakh implemented in 2008: basically, the government gives cash to newlyweds each time they have a kid.
My husband and I were THOSE super-liberal kids: we brazenly (and somewhat immaturely) ranted and raved about The State of The World, felt smug about the fact that we only watched independent media, and derided anyone who didn’t agree that of course social programs should be available for anyone who needs them, and of course the food we eat is loaded up with a thousand things that are killing us, and of course we were right. About everything.
I’m curious: how do various offbeat parents explain privilege to your kids? Not the “you’ve lost your computer privileges for the day, young lady!” kind of privilege, but the kind of privilege we talk about in social justice work: advantages our society hands to people based on their (perceived or actual) identities and experiences.
Here I am: sitting at a play date. Let’s say this play date is at a park, where the sun is shining and the kids are giggling. No flies on the snacks, no sand has been thrown. The moms are quiet but for all outward appearances, content. In this slice of domestic bliss, it suddenly occurs to me to bring up oil fracking. If you’re in a playgroup, you’ve probably picked up the social cues dictating proper momversations.
I come from a conservative and religious-minded family and spent the last five years exploring other political and economic models and ideas, coming to embrace a perspective melding socialism and humanism. My internal idea of who I am and what I believe clashes with a somewhat quieter, perhaps even frightened, public persona.