Breastfeeding in Public, Mothers Pen Advice to Daughters, Helen Thomas, and Work-Life Fatigue

a poet takes on the culture of shame around breastfeeding in public; Helen Thomas’s historic record with the presidents of the United States; in children’s books, moms stay at home, dads work; mothers’ letters to their daughters; and how women’s collective work-life fatigue is holding them back.



1.

“Who Is Scared of a Big Bad Breast?”

Under a very provocative title, Emma Solaranta pens an article for the Girls’ Globe blog—focused on gender equality and health—in which she poses the question “Who is scared of a big bad breast?” She wonders why, in 2013, when women’s bodies, particularly their breasts, are hyper-exposed in advertising, media, television, film, etc., many still balk at mothers who breastfeed in public. She writes:

[W]omen who want to engage in the most natural, essential thing in the world —breastfeeding their children—still find themselves shunned from public, having to hide in bathrooms, corners and backrooms or just wait until they get home, and for what? Because strangers are not comfortable seeing a woman breastfeed her child in public, but are perfectly fine consuming products that are promoted through the objectification of women’s bodies, or listening to music by artists that parade naked women as props around them, or staring at a billboard with a godzilla-sized half naked female body on it?

In response, Hollie McNish took to YouTube to share a video poem, “Embarrassed,” where she powerfully vents her frustration about hiding in dirty public toilets to feed her baby girl and calls out the culture of shame about breastfeeding. The video is quickly becoming viral.

2.

“Thank You, Mr. President—Helen Thomas

Helen Thomas, the White House correspondent who was later regarded as the “dean of the White House briefing room,” passed away over the weekend at 92. Her career in the the White House press corps is legendary, to say the least—she has covered every president from John F. Kennedy to Barack Obama.  While the tributes pour in, we share with you a montage of some of her most hard-hitting questions to the presidents of the United States over the years.

Last week we reported on a study that found increasingly alarming rates of  sexual exploitation of underage girls on TV. This week another major study reveals that when it comes to modern-day children’s books, traditional gender roles are still very much dominant. The study analyzed children’s books from 1901 through 2000, and found that gender roles were stagnant throughout the century:  According to its findings, mothers stayed at home to care for families and fathers worked outside of the home as breadwinners.

3.
“If children, especially girls, continue to be exposed to portrayals that suggest opportunities for women are limited to the home, and that men provide, their aspirations and independence will be muted.”

What’s at stake here? Tom Jacobs of Salon adds that “the stubbornness of gender stereotypes matters because young children aren’t simply being entertained by such books—they’re being socialized.”
4.
Mothers’ Advice to Their Daughters

tumblr_lnbc6qPaek1qzdwano1_500We all know the power of the personal letter from a loved one; it can often serve as a balm when we need it most. And, when it comes to our mother’s words, whether heard or written, many of us still find them echoing throughout our lives. Maria Popova at Brain Pickings has compiled a collection of moving letters from mothers to their daughters. We share with you some of our favorites:

From the collection Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters, Sexton writes to her daughter:

Be your own woman. Belong to those you love. Talk to my poems, and talk to your heart—I’m in both: if you need me. I lied, Linda. I did love my mother and she loved me. She never held me but I miss her, so that I have to deny I ever loved her—or she me!

Maya Angelou, who never had a daughter, penned letters anyway to an imaginary daughter in Letter to My Daughter. Her advice:

Never whine. Whining lets a brute know that a victim is in the neighborhood.

In Posterity, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, ahead of her time, wrote this call to action to her daughter in 1872:

Improve every hour and every opportunity, and fit yourself for a good teacher or professor, so that you can have money of your own and not be obliged to depend on any man for every breath you draw. The helpless dependence of women generally makes them the narrow, discontented beings so many are.