Motherhood, or Career? Tackling False Dichotomies, Part 1
leila September 12th, 2008
When I was in college, I spent an autumn term doing an internship in Washington, D.C. Away from my native California, with its parking-lot highways and taquerias, I felt at once at home, yet in a different world. The dynamism of life — the daily scramble for the metro every morning; the wonder at which I witnessed the swift transition from suffocating humidity to icy snow in mere months; the philosophical discussions I had at nights with fellow interns — made me never want to leave.
One discussion in particular surfaces in my mind every so often.
There we were, the three of us — myself, and two other female interns. One, an American-born Indian, who lamented the dearth of eligible Jain young men, as cultural norms insisted she marry someone of her own faith. She was serious, intellectual, and self-conscious all at the same time. The other, an Albanian who turned heads, was a self-proclaimed party girl who drank like a fish until the wee hours, but somehow managed to arrive at work fresh-faced and perfumed every morning.
We sat there in the cafeteria, eating cold turkey-and-mustard sandwiches and feeling very grown-up in our black blazers and heels. And suddenly, we stumbled upon a topic that, at the juncture of our academic and professional lives, seemed at once distant and imminent: motherhood, and career.
The details of the conversation aren’t important, though truthfully I can’t remember them, but it seemed that we went about it circles and lamented mostly. But once that seed was planted, I found myself unconsciously trying to pick up clues as to how to solve one of the pre-eminent questions of the modern age. I wanted to work, to be sure. But I also knew I wanted three children (though the biological clock hadn’t begun ticking), and if I wanted to stay at home with them until they went off to school at age five, and if I waited until the third was five, and I waited a year between each child, well… the math was dizzying, but I knew it would be a lot of years.
“Oh well,” I thought. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
***
Fast-forward three years. I’m sitting ensconced on a sturdy blue couch, a pita-feta-tomato sandwich in one hand, pencil in the other, scribbling my thoughts in my weathered workbook, titled “Releasing the Powers of Junior Youth.” The course is one in a series developed by the Ruhi Institute in Colombia and directed at raising the capacity of its participants to conduct community development work inspired by the teachings of the Bahá’í Faith.
The book with which my study circle and I were deeply engrossed that evening was training us to facilitate junior youth groups, for individuals ages eleven to fifteen, also known as the Junior Youth Empowerment Program. Though the material addresses the spiritual and intellectual potential of junior youth, and the societal forces that engulf adolescents today, I noticed with wonderment that it seemed to speak directly to my young adult self, with all its confusion surrounding the seemingly Big Life Decisions thrust before me.
Take the section on dichotomies, and our tendency as humans to compartmentalize the world:
Reality — physical, social, or spiritual — is too vast to be understood in its entirety. It is not unreasonable, then, to break it up in order to understand it in parts. However, whenever this is done without taking into account the wholeness of reality, difficulties arise. Conflicts among people of different races, colors, nationalities, and religions are examples of some of the many problems that can emerge from a fragmented conception of existence. For, the oneness of humanity is real, and its division along racial, ethnic, and national lines a product of the human mind and the result of historical circumstances.
So, conflict, prejudice, and barriers are an aspect of this compartmentalization on a global scale. This is nothing too new, of course; some have been hinting at the idea of race as an artificial social construct, for example, for a little while.
But what if I suggested that, as much as the seemingly pronounced differences among individuals and groups are dichotomies created by humans, so too is the way that many, especially in the industrialized world, look at our overly-committed lives?
If we are not careful and adopt such a fragmented approach to our lives, we can create all kinds of dichotomies that are largely imaginary. Work, leisure, family life, spiritual life, physical health, intellectual pursuits, individual development, collective progress, and so on become pieces that together make up our existence. When we accept such divisions as real, we feel pulled in many directions, trying to respond to what we consider to be the demands of these different facets of life. We are bewildered by apparently conflicting aims…
***
What implications does this have for motherhood and career? Some humble thoughts to come, in Part II.
In my 
recorded in the Book of God as obligatory and not voluntary. That is, it is enjoined upon the father and mother, as a duty, to strive with all effort to train the daughter and the son, to nurse them from the breast of knowledge and to rear them in the bosom of sciences and arts. Should they neglect this matter, they shall be held responsible and worthy of reproach in the presence of the stern Lord.