I read an article recently about a writer who grew up sure that she didn't want children. She had spent too much time minded her own siblings as a child and she was sure that she wanted stability, order, and, like Virgina Woolf, a room (to write in) of her own. Then, lo and behold, she began to see children everywhere, and she started to want motherhood, a chance to cuddle, guide, and love a child. Her writing was then "poured" into the long naps, the nights after bedtime, and the minutes baby was distracted playing or nursing. She began to see creativity, joy, and renewal in the life of the "half-minded," those parents who balance, juggle, and valiantly rearrange their lives to make space for new lives, growing children, and the tidal pull of creative and academic work, whether it is writing, teaching, or mentoring. This semester, I too am half-minded: half-time maternity leave, half-crazy with love for my new baby, half in tears when I have half an hour in front of computer again, and the words -the voices of doubt mingled with the promise of new work, new adventure - come pouring out. I am shocked when I see that some of what I am feeling - the awkward balance, the agonizing decisions about where to nurse, which meetings are "baby-friendly," which students replace "Dr." with "Mrs." upon hearing that I am on 1/2 time maternity leave. Or even more unsettling: when my husband explains that Mommy is teaching tonight, he replies, "Oh yeah, just like a man?" How can I model a feminist lifestyle when the forces at work against me, against my family, are so strong?
Thus blog will serve as the first step toward articulating some of these thoughts on half-mindedness. I will try to trace my teaching, writing, mothering lives as they blend together - at times, reinforcing one another, and other times, causing me to go half out of my mind. I welcome comments - from those undoing a similar experiment, or anyone who feels that this life, this experiment - resonates.
