I read this in an email someone sent me and had to share with you mom's out there!
A woman renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office was asked
by the woman recorder to state her occupation. Emily had hesitated,
uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you
just a .....?"
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother."
"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation...'housewife' covers it," said the
recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same
situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career
woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high - sounding title like
"Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out.
"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human
Relations."
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though
she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most
significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written
in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your
field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I
have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn't) in the
laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters (the whole darned family) and already have four
credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in
the humanities (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a
day (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-
the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just
money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was
greeted by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our
new experimental model (6 months) in the child-development program, testing
out a new vocal pattern.
I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the
official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind
than "just another mother."
Motherhood...what a glorious career. Especially when there's a title on the
door.
Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the Field of
Child Development and Human Relations", and great - grandmothers "Executive
Senior Research Associates"? I think so!
I also think it makes aunts "Associate Research Assistants!"
