Balancing Act. Work-life Balance. Working While Parenting. Working from Home. Masochism. These are the commonly-used terms to describe the state of parenting and working simultaneously. Too often, society would have you believe that it looks like this: Or like this: But in truth, it looks more like this: Which leads to today's juggly jiggly bits:
I was having a normal morning with my daughter, my dog, my breakfast made, my dishes done, my writing ideas planned, my clothes on, and all the daily things taken for granted. My washing machine has been broken for some time and I finally scheduled a service person to come fix it. Today was the day! I was ready like a teen at homecoming. The repairman knocked on the door, I let him in, and it made my dog lose all of her teeth in barking, and my daughter lose all of her breakfast in crying and screaming. Still pretty normal any time someone knocks . . . except that before I knew it, I was stepping on my maxi dress, pulling it down, flashing the repairman a full view of breasticles, all while trying to shoe my dog and calm my daughter. I've wished to one day be intimate and vulnerable with a new person in my life, but I never pictured this was how it would actually come true. I now re-christen this balancing act of working and parenting: The Jiggle Juggle. How is your jiggle juggle going?
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![]() I have grown weary of this repeated experience with my daughter: finding a book that represents me or my child, checking out the book at a library or purchasing from a bookstore, and then finding out subsequently that it was written by an author who "traveled once to X country and picked up some language," who "once knew someone who did X tradition," who "adopted a child from X country," or worse, had no connection whatsoever aside from a strong urge to pass off cultural authenticity without question. I don't care how dear and lauded the work is, or how famous or talented the author. It's like drinking water you thought was fresh only to find out it was someone else's backwash. It's a betrayal every time I intimately share a story with my daughter only to find out later that it was not authentic. I want more from our #ownvoices. This does not mean that talent is inconsequential. It means that it's disappointing and disingenuous when talent does not match authenticity. Yes, I can Google search the author before check-out. Of course, we all can easily Google, even while chasing a toddler at a bookstore. But the fact is, I shouldn't have to chase the cultural credentials of an author--which usually aren't considered credentials and hence usually not explicitly written in authors' bios--while I'm chasing my toddler at an establishment. It's time for cultural competency and authenticity to be a mainstay in authors' and illustrators' credentials, and for authors to explicitly express these if they are to write books that represent culturally diverse characters. Instead of simply complaining, I've decided to do something. I've compiled a booklist of authors and illustrators my daughter and I have enjoyed whose heritage matches their beautiful work authentically--those who tell their own stories. I've included this ongoing list of love and literary shouts here. |
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