I've been meaning for some time to highlight one of my blogrolled sites, Literary Mama, "a literary magazine for the maternally inclined." I, of course, am a mama myself. Not that I am also "literary"--but I'd like to think that dissertation research and writing entails quite a bit of creative energy. Some spots on LM to begin your browse:
* A review by Stacey Greenberg of "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts" (Edited by Bee Lavender and Maia Rossini):
Although I had always considered myself a creative person, it was motherhood that gave me focus and helped me to find my voice. After emerging from the haze that is early motherhood--sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and the like--I have found myself increasingly interested in the creative process, and specifically how busy mamas like myself find the time to do what they do. Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts provides an answer to this question and more...
Amen to that, sister! I've often wondered what the h*** I did before I had children--Why, had I not been such a slacker, I could've cured cancer! You only realize how much time and creativity you used to waste once you have to mine your stores of both while also parenting full time.
* A column by Deesha Philyaw Thomas, "The Girl Is Mine." From the first essay:
...To Kristan's aunt, I explained, "I... didn't have her. She's... adopted."
Wait. That didn't come out the way I'd rehearsed it. What was with the pauses? And where was my proud, mega-watt smile? This was not the way I'd intended to explain how my younger daughter came to be mine, in response to "I didn't know you were pregnant" and similar comments. I'd planned to be matter-of-fact about it all: I was this child's mother...
Often I find that, although I research adoption issues, it is very easy for me to be disconnected from adoption as it is lived in real time, with real families. I read columns like this whenever I need a reality check.
* Poetry! For instance this line from "Preschool" by Rachel Iverson is classic:
they talk...
of juice boxes and assassinations
the white guys, they wanted everything to stay the same and that guy who was the King wanted things to change so everybody could ride on the bus, but then the white guys shot him with a gun...
It has been about two decades since I've taught in a preschool classroom but this sounds very familiar to the snack-table discourse I recall. And the 3s and 4s I taught always renamed Martin Luther King, The King--no matter how many times I corrected them. (And I always took secret delight in this renaming.)
* A column by Amy Hudock "Mothering in the Ivory Tower." From the most recent essay, "Playing Indian":
I go to the mailbox, and find yet another affirmative action card. I am now teaching at the University of South Carolina as a Visiting Assistant Professor, but I am looking for more permanent work, and each application is followed by one of these cards. I know if I check "Native American," I become a more attractive candidate. But I don't because I can't claim "Native American" as my sole identity, even through I shouldn't really check "white" as my only identity either. But I check "White" because I know that some Native American people are uncomfortable with -- if not hostile to -- people who have previously only identified as white claiming Indian heritage. And rightfully so. Native American cultures, religions, and artifacts are too often appropriated by white mainstream culture as part of a celebration of the Indians of a mythic past. The people buying up these artifacts, some taken from burial mounds, don't want to see the live Indian standing in front of them but rather focus on the Indian frozen in the past -- contained, controlled, and colonized. I fear claiming Native American identity because I don't want to do what others have done. I don't want to take what is not mine.
Ultimately the author recognizes the opportunities for enacting identity(ies) via parenting.
Good stuff, all. Happy reading.