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With my husband's support, the sweet concern of my girlfriends and watchful eye of my family, I have reconstructed my life. Some changes were gradual, others blindsided me. The result is that when asked what I "do". I respond "I'm a work-at-home mom" Occasionally I follow that with words about my consulting and writing. Usually I stop there because I consider "wife" and "mother" my most prestigious titles. Girlfriends ask, "How can you trust a man to support you?" We're partners. As he says, my choice is a vote of confidence in him. Any womanist knows that she can take care of business if circumstances change. I trust God's choice for me; I haven't come to this place alone. Being a work-at-home mother is a luxurious choice for an African-American woman. Most of our female forbearers had to work. Some of our mothers succeeded in transitioning from blue collar jobs to professional careers. Although they heroically moved beyond traditional sexist and racist jobs, an income wasn't optional. Others endured the legacy of the day-by-day money struggle. No matter your inheritance, odds are, if you're a Black woman wrestling with whether voluntarily to stay home, you are a pioneer - the first in your lineage to have a true choice. Do I regret my choice? No. Occasionally, I'm bummed when I miss an activity or think about the loosening bonds with friends. However, nothing gives me as much joy as my guys. This is a life phase. It will pass and opportunities will resurface. True friends support and work around my reality. They even baby-sit. Recently during a cocktail party a former acquaintance asked, "Where are you [employed]?" I informed her I'm home with our son. She responded with "Good for you! Every time I ask my husband if I can retire he says, 'No.'" Who's retired?! Perhaps she was changing the subject. An enlightened, progressive woman such as she couldn't be likening work-at-home parents to retirees. There's nothing leisure about my work. I usually ignore those who ask what I do with my found time now that I've abandoned my career. Beyond the never ending demands of managing home and family, I am involved in a myriad of civic and community activities. I also engage in a patchwork quilt of flexible employment. Some parents admirably juggle life's balls. I can not keep all of the balls in the air. This is my season to work at home. I'm not complaining. I love what I do. Many people do more with less. If I could change one thing, I'd add more hours to the day. I am not raising a designer child. Nor do I think this is the only option for all families. Although I believe this lifestyle is best for my child I know others will excel in different environments. I am not investing myself in my son because I expect a big payoff. My husband and I have chosen to give him the best beginning we know how to provide. We're supplying him with skills and resources. What he does with them is his choice. We will measure our parenting by the effort we put into it not by the choices our son makes. Those are measurements of him. Like most parents, my husband and I want a home where the adults work together to provide healthy financial, spiritual and intellectual nourishment. We achieve this with our current structure. In addition to being at home, I have chosen to be a hands-on parent. I don't hire childcare every time an insensitive person commands, "Just get a sitter." I want to be involved in raising our son. I will not delegate that to another person -- not even the routine parts. It's through the routines that you connect with and educate little ones. Why do people equate being a hands-on-mother with having a lobotomy? Sure there's predictability and routine. There is also awe striking daily changes and challenges, immense joy and disappointment. We constantly exercise our brains. A woman may become a bit scatterbrained during pregnancy because her body is focusing on its primary job. She may falter intellectually during the first year of the child's life. This is due to sleep deprivation not loss of mental capacity. In fact, "While the Mommy Brain cliché suggests that women blunder through motherhood, we may be at our most efficient, and for good reason . . . we find ourselves becoming more expert in doing more than one thing at a time." [The Mommy Brain, Katherine Ellison, Pg. 68] I have experienced all of the above. I am not bored. This is not a vacation. It's an invigorating avocation. That's more satisfying than anything I have accomplished for pay. Each job has its pros and cons. There are days I'd like to call in sick. Although I'm pleased to be free from office politics and gossip, occasionally I miss adult stimulation. On those days public radio is my intellectual nutrition. It keeps me sane when my dyslexic brain struggles to pronounce the name of yet another dinosaur. Business school graduates dream of managing projects the way work-at-home parents do. Not only do we multi-task and prioritize, we truly appreciate the value of time; not the dollar value, the "what God prefers me to do" value. I no longer waste time. This doesn't mean I am always on the go or that I don't relax. It means that when I evaluate an opportunity, enjoyment and fulfillment are as critical requirements as productive and lucrative. I have ceased spending time in unpleasant situations, boring parties, or soul-draining meetings. If I can't elevate the situation, I politely decline the invitation or leave the event. This is the superior time management. Some womanist struggle with the dilemma of simultaneously being a progressive and a nurturer. That's unnecessary. A womanist respects choices, including her own. It's progressive to care for and about others; not just politically but actively in your home and community. It's also progressive to understand yourself well enough to realize you prefer a certain lifestyle. The point is to be and do your best while accepting that your definition of "best" is constantly shifting. As it shifts so will your role and performance. A womanist expects this. She knows she can take any role, make it her own and elevate her people along the way.
NOTE: Also read about life through the eyes of Kamyra's son, "Garnet Paul Harding", as interpreted by Kamrya: Garnet's Journal: My Shadow
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In
her column MY FINAL FRONTIER Kamyra Harding uses humor and personal
experience to explore parenting and family from a womanist perspective.
Kamyra has a fifteen year track record of service in not-for-profit
management and administration. She has worked with a variety of
organizations including the United Nations Association of the USA
and the American Red Cross in Greater New York. Kamrya resides in
New York City with her husband and son. 