My thoughts on the divinity of gender roles

I love being a woman, and I love the community of women in my life. I think there is something special about being a woman. However, I'm not sure, but I would bet that much of the differences between the genders is due solely to socialization.  I must say that I do not believe that there are gender roles that God expects me to fill because I am a woman.

I believe that there is no slippery slope of allowing women to be ambitious and men to be nurturing without censure. I see no downside to allowing people the freedom to decide for themselves what is the right path, what brings them closer to a place of spirituality. The world is a changing place and new opportunities are creating new ways for us to shape our lives.  There is no right way to be  a parent or a provider.

The loving Heavenly Parents I believe in want all of their children to be treated equally, to have access to opportunities and the ability to make choices so that they may live fulfilling and happy lives. I believe that they care more about our treatment of their children (ourselves included, we have to be kinder to ourselves) and that their needs are met, then they do who is filling which role to meet them.

I find the gender issues in our culture to be harmful and believe they need to change. I understand that change is scary and fear is powerful. But I remind myself constantly that He said "Do not fear for I am with you."

End of the Semester thoughts

Going to grad school, being exhausted, and overwhelmed, having very limited time to spend with my husband and two small children, literally being unable to do much in the way of cooking, cleaning, etc because I just didn’t have the time, doubting myself every minute, pushing myself beyond sane limits…   was the best thing to happen to my marriage since infertility.

Does that sound awful?? Well, it's true!

And grad school almost didn’t happen. I was really scared going into this process. I was afraid grad school would tear us apart. I think it's one of those things that either makes or breaks you. My husband had never been the kind to step in and pick up slack, but I think that he never REALLY needed to before. (I'm too damn capable!) I also think that seeing me trying so hard and really needing his help opened up some new piece of him. I really felt like it could seriously damage our marriage.. but in the end I decided that it was too important for that to stop me

Infertility meant that I was married for 4 years instead of 1 before I became a mom, I got to mature more as a person and learn how to be a wife before I had to learn how to be a mother... and grad school so far has meant that we're becoming to be a team, not competing factions for limited resources. It's an amazing paradigm shift. I finally feel like an equal partner whose goals and aspirations are equally important.. I know I have support, and that I can trust my husband to do the 'mom' jobs.. he's damn capable too.

It's amazing what supportive equality can do for your sex life. ;)

What should I do when I grow up... or how can we help each other.

Today's post is basically me working out some thoughts... re: what I'm going to do when I grow up. It is also influenced by a surprisingly strong head cold and how crappy it is to be sick when you are the mom.



So, for my grad program, as previously mentioned, I am supposed to narrow in on what is 'my issue'. What is it that I am so passionate about that I want to get out into the world and try and change things.

I wrote at the end of the last post that I've been thinking women and education, maybe moms going back to school after kids, maybe mentoring young women so they take school more seriously and don't find themselves in the same place as the moms going back to school...  and while I do absolutely care about that, I'm worried that it might be that my focus is on that right now because I am going back to school right now.

And really, what gets me so excited about that has been finding and building communities of support.  Locating the people who need help, and finding ways we can help each other.  

I think my real issue is the lack of support and community for women. Yes, moms for sure, but I definitely want to include all women.  We all need each other. We've made great strides in the last 100 years benefiting women, but we've also lost that close support system of a big multi-generational family and the neighborhood they lived in for those generations.

I obviously don't want to go back to the men out in the fields, and the women at home washing clothes together.  It's a brave new world, and there are amazing possibilities ahead of us. But we still have a need for the strength that comes with that community.

The last two weeks have been some of the hardest for both myself and my sister.  I started grad school, she had a new baby.  She lives 5 hours away, and there was really nothing we could do for each other but listen. We both have a mountain of things on our plates, but if we could have put it all together, I believe we would have found that the help we could have offered each other would have added up to much more than our troubles combined.

I know so many of us are struggling. If you aren't right now, I'm sure you have in the past. But really, I bet in some way you ARE struggling.  I mean, life itself a struggle! It's all about growing and reaching and striving, and that shit is hard!  And just because it's a part of life, that doesn't mean we shouldn't find a way to help each other.  (*gets all philosophical here.. sorry)... Maybe that is part of why life is a struggle.. so we can realize that we need each other, and build the connections to make it through. I don't know if there is a why, but I do know that there is a need.

So, this is what I am passionate about. But is that something I can work on?  Is this a need I can work to address? And do I even really know what I am talking about? *IS* this a real need, or am I making a big deal out of nothing? Is this just a fact of life everyone figures out a way to deal with? And if it is a real need... what can I do about it? And more practically, as a person racking up student loans.. is this something I could get a job working on?




Currently contemplating a nonprofit that provides postpartum doula type services to moms so they can finally 'call in sick'.  Can't imagine why this specific need is at the forefront of my thoughts... Must go now, need to blow my nose, fix the kids a snack, refill my humidifier and find some slightly educational children's programming on the TV to ease the guilt of crawling back in bed.

Way too much stuff for one week... When overwhelm hits SLC.

I started grad school this week.  I've been feeling more and more anxious the last few weeks, and it all kind of culminated in a total breakdown today in a corner of the downtown city library.  Panic attack complete with ugly cry bawling, hoping the people studying nearby didn't see.  I am normally not an anxious person, I would usually leave that classification for the hubby.  The man worries about everything, it's honestly part of his plan for life. But over the summer there has been a steady build up in my head.  Wondering what on earth I am doing, and why I thought I could do it.  The last couple of weeks I've found myself in a fog, desperately trying to clear out space to think.

My first class was Monday.  My Tuesday class is the intro class with everyone else starting this semester. My Monday class had three other students, all of whom will graduate at the end of next semester.  The class is a subject I'm very interested in, but feel completely unprepared to tackle yet.  I emailed my director, and she replied that she is confident I can handle it.  Her confidence does not increase my own.. but I guess I'm staying in the class.  I finished my first day as a grad student feeling like a ton of bricks had been dropped on me from above.

Tuesday's intro class was less intimidating at the onset. We did a round of introductions, and while there were a lot of people who have experience in the nonprofit world, and out in the world in general, I didn't feel completely out of place.  We eventually broke into groups and mine discussed the factors affecting Utah, those that are increasing and decreasing in their influence and what the future may hold.  I felt like I could hold my own there and enjoyed interacting with the group.  And then, right before class ended the teacher, our program director, went over some of the syllabus and what we should be expecting in the next couple of weeks.  The major point being that in the next week or two we should all really define "our issue".  We are all there because we care about something and want to make a difference.  We need to really define what that is so that we can focus on it, not only in this class, but in all the classes we will have in the program.

Holy crap balls did this stress me out.  This whole journey I've been on for years has basically been to figure out what I should do with my life. And suddenly I'm supposed to have an answer in two weeks. Another night of uneasy overwhelm with hints of possibilities would follow.

I woke up Wednesday focused on the meeting I had that morning with the executive director of a local nonprofit who was looking for a part time office staff. I'd been recommended by an amazing friend, and the position seemed perfect. Low level of challenge skill wise, and not too highly paying, but rich in opportunity to learn and network.  It was a great meeting, and we both seemed pretty happy with the possible arrangement.  I arrived home, emailed over the requested resume, and in two hours had a job offer in my inbox.  I pulled up my calendar to get an idea of when I could tell them I would be available to work.. and ended up sitting there until after midnight.  Literally, the girls played games while I work, and I ordered dinner delivered.  I got out of the chair to answer the door for the delivery person, but I think that's about it.

I admit, I like to over plan. I love spreadsheets and itineraries and to do lists.  They give me a sense of control in this chaotic life. It usually make me feel better to have a plan to implement.  Whether it all goes that way in the end is irrelevant, I have a basic structure to go off of.  Well, not that day.  I was somehow working myself into a panic attack.  Trying to visualize this new life of grad school and a job, while still being a mother, a wife, (and yes, a person!) was turning out to be a very complicated puzzle.  The longer I worked at it, the later it got, the more tired I became and the more the idea of this hugely booked up life began to completely freak me out.

I tried to be reasonable, and talk myself down.  I emailed the director and let her know that I'd only be able to commit to 15 hours a week, hoping that when she'd said that she wanted someone from 15-20 hours, that meant she'd be ok with any number along that spectrum.  Exhausted and slightly half crazed, I went to bed sometime after 1am.

My alarm went off at 7am, and a complete zombie managed to drag herself out of bed, dress and feed two girls, gather their school supplies and drop them off at their schools.  I returned home to sink deeper into anxiety and the sense that life was just too hard to handle.  Hours later I managed to get myself out into the sunshine for some exercise, nutrition and to read some of the ton of pages I was assigned in my two classes.  It definitely helped.  And I managed to carry on somewhat normally for a while.

Saturday I realized that although I had not planned to do any school related work that day, (in laws were visiting), that I would be completely crazy not to try and spend at least sometime getting more of a handle on things. If only to try and reduce the size of the ever present anxiety cloud following me around! So, after some detours and distractions I finally found myself sitting at a table on the 4th floor of the downtown city library.  I had all my books, my computer, notebooks and pens and hand outs all spread before me, ready for me to really crack down and get some work done.  I pulled out one assignment, and as I looked it over my head began to hurt, my heart began to race and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe.  I had no idea what to do. I couldn't come up with what the first step would be, and could see no way I would be able to complete this assignment.  I closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and put the assignment away.  I reached for another one, and started going through a list of questions and trying to fill out a form.  Again, the headache amped up, the heart starting going crazy and I could no longer breathe.  I sat there for a while taking in my pile of school supplies, and realizing I had no idea what to do... and my ever present anxiety cloud became a full fledged storm that completely rolled over me.  I sat there shaking, completely lost.  I opened Facebook on my computer and posted a short paragraph in a private group I belong to.

"I can't do this. I can't go to graduate school. Whenever I try to work on things for class my head starts to pound and my heart races and I can't breathe. I can't do this. This was my dream and I can't do it. I thought I was spunky and special and could change the world. But I was wrong."

After putting my confession out into the world I started to cry.  Just small sniffles at first, then racking sobs.  I was sitting alone in a library bawling my heart out, hoping that no one around me would notice.
A combination of:
 1. the responses online of kind, wise, positive friends with more confidence in my abilities than I had, combating my insistence that they did not realize how incompetent and unprepared I was
2. packing up my thing and making it to the bathroom to calm down and clean up, and
3. an amazing person I'd never met in person before, who had the experience and kindness I needed, coming to share a treat and listen to me...
These all led to led to an emotionally exhausted and fragile but stable person who could eventually leave the library to meet her in laws for dinner.

I'm home now. The day is over. I survived. I feel drained, but, thankfully, some of the dread, anxiety and overwhelm came out with all the snot and tears.  And in the end I found that I had made one bit of real progress in my huge school to do list after all.  I was able to start defining what my cause is. The amazing people who stepped up to hear and support me in my crisis helped me to remember what it is I really am passionate about.  Community.  I picked this program, and it picked me, because of the work I have done and want to do in creating and strengthening community.

In looking at what I've been doing in my life, it's the women's education group that most excites me. I created the MofEd group because I wanted something like it and couldn't find one. And I love it. It's been such an asset, academically and emotionally, for not only myself. I believe it really filled a need. It grew so quickly, and there's so much love and support there. And it's because it's filled with amazing women who want to support each other. I firmly believe that women need each other, we are stronger together.

And so right now I believe what I want is to work with women and education. I love the idea of being involved in mentoring and providing communities of support and resources. I have a special place in my heart for women going back to school after a long absence (can't imagine why) and hope to also work with the youth to encourage girls to really investigate their options, to consider their futures from many angles and to take college more seriously. Did you know Utah has the lowest national average of women who graduate from college??

And now, with tired eyes, and a less heavy heart.. while still slightly unstable and overwhelmed, I find myself hopeful.. and am off to get some much need sleep.  Because tomorrow is a new day, and I have things to do.  Save the world, change the culture, ya know.. the norm.

a letter to my mom

Sent my mother a letter today.. I'm tired of hiding such a big part of my life and who I am from her... I hope she can understand..

Mom,

I love you. I want to share something really important with you and I'm not sure how to say it.  I think it will hurt you and that's not something I want.  The crazy thing is, from my point of view, it's a good thing. I am happy. I feel lighter than I have in years. I have searched my soul and pondered all these things in my heart and have come to a place of peace. I know you have noticed it too, because you have told me how happy and fulfilled I seem. I feel like I am finally living true to what my conscience dictates and what the spirit guides. And yet, the spirit has directed my path away from the church. I know this will pain you, but I do not believe the LDS church is the right place for me. I tried to make it work, but have found too much I can't believe in and too much that is harmful to my spirit, and I just can't belong there at this time.

The last couple of years (well, really, my whole life, but especially the last couple of years) I have been on a journey, searching for what I really believe. Searching for truth and divinity and love. I did not come to this decision lightly. I have searched, pondered and prayed. I have wrestled with my demons and agonized over the right thing to do for myself and my family. And I will continue to do so. I believe in spirituality. I believe in loving one another and taking care of the least among us. I truly believe that a loving Heavenly Father cares more about my actions in those regards than in whether or not I belong to the right church.

I hope you will be able to see that I am still me. It's taken me a long time to realize that it's not only okay for me to make this decision, it's my obligation to myself, my girls and those around me to be true to myself and to follow the promptings I have felt.

I don't want to talk specifics about doctrine or debate issues of the gospel.  I'm not telling you this to start any fights or worry you.  I just didn't want to hide this huge aspect of my life from you. I love you very much, and want you to know what's going on with me. Again, I am happy, and feel good about where I am and how my life is going. Who knows what the future holds, as I said, my search for meaning and what is right will continue. But for now, this is my path. Thank you for loving me. I know that this letter won't change that, and that is an amazing gift.

Love always,
Danielle

shoe against the window

I'm having one of those, middle of the night, existential crisis moments.. the kind that, in my single college days, would have had me racing to the arms of the nice boy who loved me, who I did not love.. I'd throw a shoe at his window and he would come out on his porch, regardless of the hour. He would tell me all I need to hear, kiss me if I wanted, and I would use him to try to patch the hole in my soul, like trying to dam a river with duct tape.. and while I hated myself for using him, it felt like a necessary act of self-preservation, what else was I to do.

Now what do I do... The boy upstairs tonight would not understand, and would not tell me what I need to hear.. though he *would* kiss me if I wanted. I embody emotion, and I married logic.. can logic and emotion really be true companions? I tell myself we are the perfect compliment to each other.. but can that be true if we never understand each other? I've been working to patch that hole myself for years.. and while it's getting smaller, I still keep leaking out from time to time.. I still keep having to shove myself back together... and when that happens, and it's 1am, and the world is quiet and the words in my head are so loud... what do I do?

Maybe I should start drinking after all.

and so it begins..

Got an email today.  I've been accepted to a graduate program.  Just like that, and my life starts a new chapter.  Why does bad news feel like something you knew was bound to happen and good news feels surreal?  Must go pinch myself a couple times, and starting planning for fall. :)

My soul on paper

Grad school applications want you to submit an essay detailing who you are, and what you've done and what you want, and why.. basically, to pour a little of your soul on paper.  It was almost a cathartic experience to write this.  For your consideration.. my paper.


The day I learned I was pregnant with a baby girl was the day my passion for social change began. Growing up poor in a small, conservative community, I had been defined and limited by my gender and socioeconomic status. Neither of my parents went to college, and so I felt incredibly fortunate when I was able to attend. However, I had inherited the idea that college was merely a pit stop until I was able to fulfill my real purpose in life: marriage and children. I had loved college, loved learning and striving and pushing myself. Yet, I did not hesitate to put all that behind me when I got married. I took an uninteresting job that paid well and settled into the role of wife, excited for the fulfillment I had been promised. I then spent four years trying to get pregnant. My focus was entirely on getting to the promised land of ‘motherhood’, and how incomplete I was as a person until that happened. I didn’t continue my education or work towards a career. It never occurred to me to do so. Years of my life passed, month by month, waiting for a stick to turn blue. I baked, babysat, decorated and slowly died inside.

 One day I stumbled upon an online community of women, and discovered my situation was far from unique. With their support, I began to look outside the home for distractions. My younger sister was about to graduate from high school, and I offered to help her with the transition to college. As I worked with her I felt recharged. It was not only the joy that comes from helping someone. I truly enjoyed the process; researching options, taking action and witnessing a plan take shape. I began to take the initiative within my groups of friends and family, taking on the challenge of planning and organizing events. I found immense satisfaction in the logistics. A problem to fix became an opportunity and I looked around me for more.

Then it happened. The stick turned blue, a bump began to show and I found myself in a small room being told, “it’s a girl!” As I contemplated the life growing inside of me, I often thought of the world I had grown up in and the messages I had heard. In preparation for childbirth I read dozens of books and took in-depth classes. It surprised me how much information most women are unaware of. As I discovered that knowledge gave me options, the less my quest was limited to birth. As a child I had given potential roles little thought. It was assumed my future was motherhood, and I did not question. Only when facing infertility, defined by what I was not, had I begun to wonder what I could be. Recognizing that I did not want that for my daughter sparked something new inside me. It was an awakening to the power of choice. Amidst dirty diapers and crushed cheerios I educated myself on women’s issues; reading books and articles, watching documentaries and Ted Talks, listening to podcasts and to the concerns of the women around me. I joined organizations and started asking questions. Watching my little daughter grow, I learned to find and embrace my voice. I became haunted by the lack of choices so many women are faced with, and, as with the other problems I encountered on this journey, I was driven to find a solution.

I wanted to improve the lives of the women in my local community. Motherhood was a much lonelier and more frustrating place than I had expected. Reaching out, I found that I was not alone. Many women feel a sense of isolation and a greater difficulty forming close connections. “Woman’s greatest calling” is a lot to live up to. Repetitive mundane tasks, a lack of any measurable accomplishments, and the societal pressure to remain positive, leads many to anxiety and depression. All of us trying so hard to be perfect, sure we are the only ones who can’t seem to make it happen. I decided to form a women’s group in my neighborhood. We arranged activities and shared personal triumphs and tragedies. More than just a place to manage child care and share resources, we were a refuge.
I felt compelled to do more. An opportunity arose to become a childbirth educator, and I jumped at it. I researched the various methodologies, compared the different certifications, and threw myself into the education. Within a few months, I had my own business and have spent the last 3 years educating small groups of couples in 10-week, comprehensive, evidence-based classes. Sharing the empowerment of knowledge and choice that I had found with other women was so gratifying that it energized me to go further.

To get involved at a higher level, I began volunteering for causes and political candidates that promote education and social programs for women. Before I knew it I was a representative of my precinct and represented the voters in my neighborhood at county and state conventions. Now I am pursuing additional education. I was recently able to take classes in both sociology and economics, and became immediately engrossed. Participating in class discussions and immersing myself in the reading, I found again that passion for learning and an outrage for injustice. Returning to academia also presented many challenges. I soon discovered a huge resource in the online communities of women to which I belonged. Women from many different groups were asking the same questions I had, and among them were women who had the answers. I recognized the potential to gain both academic assistance and a community of support, and so I created a new group. In less than a month, membership had grown to 65 people from across the country, and it’s still growing. The group has been a tremendous asset for us all. I completed my first college semester in over ten years with a 4.0 gpa and group of women cheering me on.

All of these experiences have magnified my sense of purpose. The ability to work closely with women, to aid in their education and witness their journey, continuously inspires me. I want to spend my life working to build communities of women who can fight for each other. I am driven, proactive and passionate; what I need are the practical skills to promote real, concrete changes in my community and beyond. I am confident the Master of Arts in Community Leadership can take me there. I will bring my passion and ability to my education. When I graduate, I will take my education to the community and use it to further empower, educate, and support women.

Something about doors being closed in your face, so you break a window... I think that's how it goes.

So, fine.. I didn't get accepted to the U's MSW program.  Which was hard and awful and rejection sucks.. but really, I'm grateful to the U for being dumb.  Their loss, my gain!  I started looking at other programs, and found something I'm REALLY excited about AND they are still accepting applications for this fall.   For a bunch of different reasons, it is a lot better than the MSW program, (including the time requirements, the cost, the cohort size, the location... the fact that my marriage might actually survive this program!).

But most importantly, it's pretty much what I begun to picture myself doing with an MSW, without all the other stuff I was not interested in.  So, it's not a consolation prize, or my second choice.  If I don't get in for this fall, I will reapply to this program, and not the U's MSW.

I have met with the academic advisor for the program, and it's director. Both meetings went really well. The advisor said it sounded like I had been looking for their program after I told her why I had been interested in previous grad programs.  She said that talking to me felt just like talking to the people who were in the program, and that she thought I would fit right in.

What I really loved was when she let me know that my informal experiences, that had not counted for much with the U's MSW program, were precisely the kind of things the Westminster program was looking for. The meeting with the director was a lot of excited chatting and nodding heads. After I talked to her about my history, what I've been doing and what I care about, I asked her what they look for in competitive candidates.  She said it was basically everything I had just talked about. So, that feels good.

I am applying at the end of the window, so I know there is a possibility I won't get in.  But it feels really great to have a good, solid idea of what I'd like to do in the future.  I never really had that with the MSW.  I just figured that once I got into the program I'd figure it out.

Just filling out this application has been a completely different experience.  Instead of trying to twist my experiences and skills to make them look like what was wanted, it's been so nice to really spell out what I have to offer and what I've been doing and have them appreciated. It definitely makes writing my resume and essay easier!

What? you don't want me? Fine! I don't want you!

Maybe this is just the rejection speaking... but I'm starting to question whether I really want an MSW.

I heard back about what my application was lacking, and the main thing was that I've been a stay at home mom for the last 7 years, and they didn't really count the informal things I'd done as worth much. For months I've been trying to nail down lately what I really wanted to do with my MSW.  I didn't have a particular profession in mind.  I just knew I wanted to be involved with helping support women, working towards social change. And I figured once I got in the program I'd learn more about all the different possibilities.

The one thing I have come to realize already is that I am more interested in Macro than Micro.. I want to work on the big picture. And the thing I've always really loved doing was finding a need, and trying to fill it.  I'm a planner.  I love spreadsheets and looking up details and researching options.
I'm a passionate go-getter! Someone says we should do this, I start figuring out how to make it happen.
I think I would really love to be involved in community organizing, which is something I think you can do with an MSW, but do you really 'need' one?

Maybe an MSW is overkill for me.

Wisdom from an online friend I've never met

A friend's response to my news... I've decided she is wise.

rejection

I was not accepted into the the MSW program at the U.  Yes, I cried.  Don't judge me.

I am a mess of emotions.
I feel like a failure... and I'm pissed off because they don't know how awesome I am.
I feel completely lost... and I am totally determined to pick a new plan, a BETTER plan, dang it!
I want to sleep for a week... and I want to run and run until it's all behind me.
All at the same time.

I am a deviant

Sociology 101 asked me to find someone who deviated, and analyze them.. I picked myself.  For your consideration.. my paper.



Deviance, as the violation of our society’s norms, is something we all engage in to some degree.  As I worked to analyze my own deviant acts through a sociological lens, I was often reminded of the relative nature of deviance.  It was enlightening to realize that it is the reaction, not the act itself that defines what is deviant.

In most American societies, drinking tea, watching R rated movies and going out to eat on a Sunday would not qualify me as a deviant.  However, in the culture of the LDS church, those acts are seen as quite unorthodox.  Some deviant behaviors are as inconsequential as my disinclination to sew, knit or scrapbook.  Others are not as minor, but not strictly against the rules either. For instance, I only have 2 children, and that is all I plan to have.  I am also pursuing higher education and a career while they are still young.  Other acts considered to be quite serious, are my lack of church attendance, my failure to wear significant items of religious clothing, and my involvement in political actions within and against the church organization.

What caused me to deviate in such a manner?  Sociology has provided a number of theories that attempt to explain my deviance.  Differential association theory says that it is those with whom we associate that teach us to either conform to or deviate from society’s norms.  Our family members, friends and even neighbors influence us.  I was born into a family with conflicting positions in regards to the church.  Although I had a conforming mother who brought me to church each week, and attempted to ingrain in me all that she believed, my father was not a believing, participating member.  It was a strain in their marriage, and always a subtext of our lives. Eventually, two of my three siblings would make the decision to leave the church upon entering adulthood, increasing the number of my deviating associates.

When we discuss influences, we cannot leave out friends. Throughout my teenage years in Texas I had a close-knit group of friends from my church, however I only saw them once or twice a week.  The people we lived close to and those I spent time with every day were not LDS.  After high school I made the decision to attend college in Utah hoping for the conforming influences of new associations.  However, living with a larger concentration of LDS people also meant that I was exposed to a much greater variation between conformity and deviance than I had previously experienced.  Sutherland believed that primary groups also teach us how and why to deviate, and in this period of my life that is clearly evident.  I witnessed my peers make many decisions that did not strictly follow the norms of our church.  I discovered a diversity of ideas surrounding what it meant to be LDS, and spent hours discussing the reasoning behind the choices people were making.  It caused me to question which norms I followed, and why.

An alternative to differential association theory in explaining deviance is control theory.  The idea that the desire to deviate is common and that there are two control systems, inner and outer, which work against our tendencies to do so.  Inner controls are internalized morality, like a conscience, the idea of what is right and wrong, as well as the fear of punishment and the desire to be a “good person”.  Outer controls are people who influence us not to deviate, such as friends, family and authority figures like the police.

I believe that many of my inner controls were not effective in preventing my deviations because my internalized morality did not have a strong grasp of the norms as ‘right’ and the deviations as ‘wrong’.  When I was shown another way of looking at things, putting the norms in the ‘wrong’ and the deviations as ‘right’, it frequently made much more sense to me, and so was easier to let go of.  As an example, the LDS church strongly believes that homosexuality is a sin, and is against legalizing same-sex marriages.  After researching the matter and getting to know people it directly affects, I now believe marriage equality to be a human rights issue, and see lobbying against it to be discrimination.  My inner controls, my feelings of integrity, now do not allow me to conform, despite my fears. I did experience fear of punishment from church leaders and peers, and my desire to be perceived as a "good person" by fellow church members exerted control in regards to my behavior much longer than any others.
Which leads us to the outer controls.  Once aware of deviations, my church leaders had the power to take actions that would impact me negatively.  These sanctions could be minor, disapproving looks to a chastising talk or it could be more severe, such as revoking privileges and even my membership.  Beyond the church leadership, our neighbors could decide our family was no longer a good influence and refrain from including us in activities, even forbidding our children to play together.  Friends and family could exhibit disappointment, disapproval, or even choose to end our relationships.  It must also be mentioned that the LDS church creates a strong sense of community within its members, with emotional, physical and financial support.  The loss of that community can have great consequences.
The stronger the bonds with a society, the more effective are the controls.  These bonds are based on: attachment, feeling affection and respect for those who conform; commitments, having a stake in the society you don’t want to risk; involvements, participating in approved activities; and beliefs, convictions that certain actions are wrong.  This was certainly true for me.  I found it easier to deviate the more I got to know and like people outside of the LDS culture.  The less I participated in the community’s activities, the less I needed it to fill those needs.  The more I questioned my beliefs, the less I was convinced that those actions were wrong.  And the less important I felt my membership in this group was, the less power it’s loss held over me.

The third method is strain theory, which discusses how societies socialize their members into desiring culturally selected goals, and set out the ways in which you should work to obtain them.  The problem with this is that many people are unable to achieve these goals through the socially acceptable ways.  This inability causes them to experience a strain, or anomie, the feeling of being adrift in society without clear, secure moorings, and to become detached from the norms that usually guide behavior.  As I evaluated my deviance from this point of view, I had to consider what had been the cultural goals held out as desirable in the LDS culture, what was considered the appropriate way of achieving them, and where had this become a problem for me.  I believe the most significant ones to be feeling fulfilled as a stay at home mother, and being able to believe in the church’s truth claims without questioning.  Robert Merton discussed differing ways people reacted within strain theory, and I believe I followed two of the paths.  For many years I chose ritualism, the definition of which is to reject cultural goals, but to accept the institutional means.  For me that meant that I gave up on being fulfilled, but continued to fill the role of a stay at home motherhood. I also resigned myself to never being a believer, someone who felt ‘the spirit’ and knew of the truthfulness; and yet I continued to attend church meetings and speak the words I knew were expected.  This was a hard road for me, and I definitely felt the strain of anomie.  Eventually, depression overwhelmed me to such a point that it was necessary for me to receive help.  It was through this process that I changed paths.  I gave up ritualism and headed towards rebellion instead.  Rebellion is to not only reject the approved culture goals and the means of achieving them, but to replace them as well.  I rejected the idea that I should be an unquestioning believer in the LDS doctrine, and instead replaced that with the idea that I should be constantly searching for a belief system that I could believe in.  I rejected the idea that I should be a happy stay at home mother who finds fulfillment in home cooked meals and a clean house, and replaced it with the idea that I could be a good mom and have a career, and went back to school.

The final theory is labeling.  This theory focuses on the significance of reputations, claiming that the labels people are given affect their own and others perceptions of them.  This channels their behavior into either deviance or conformity.  This theory would assume that I was pushed towards deviance by means of labels I received earlier in life.  I do not feel as though this theory has as much to say on my deviance.  In college and later in my married life I do not feel that I was labeled as very different.  Especially in my married life I spent most of my time working to fit in.  However, if I examine my childhood I can see that having a father that was not a member of the society did mark me as different.  The stigma of not having ‘the priesthood’ in my home made me an object of pity, worry and mistrust.  My father was not seen as equal to the other fathers.  We also moved around a lot, and so I was continually seen as the new kid, an outsider.  I can see how these labels affected the way I was treated and the way I would act.

I found each theory illuminated different aspects, and helped to create a more complete picture.  Strain theory appeared to highlight the most direct causes for deviation in my case.  However, much of what is discussed in the other theories adds depth and understanding.  Would I have had such a hard time accepting and achieving the cultural goals as an adult if I had had different associations earlier in life?  Would the inner controls have had more effect if I had grown up with parents united in the message of what was right and what was wrong?  Would I have sought out the association of deviants in later years if the labels I had been given earlier hadn’t built up barriers that prevented stronger bonds with conformers?

I greatly appreciated that the discussion of Differential Association Theory included the idea that it is not claiming that we are destined to think or act like the groups in which we find ourselves placed.  Instead, that by choosing what groups to join, or what associations to deepen, we help to shape who we will become.  I do not see my journey as falling prey to a series of bad influences, but as a conscientious and mindful search that led to an awakening.  I specifically sought out differing groups, and chose to make friends with those who violated certain norms.  Those people spoke to me, and what they said rang true. I made those choices, and they would guide other choices.  I understand that much of my self is determined by the circumstances I was born into, but it is gratifying to acknowledge that I also have choice in my circumstances.

Transitions

Sociology 101 asked me to talk about when I transitioned into a new role, how it affected my other roles, what was helpful or not, etc. I began the paper meaning to discuss the transition from Stay-At-Home-Mom to Student-Mom.. but it turns out that since I have just started this transition, I don't really have answers those questions. So, instead I choose to dissect the process of becoming a mom.  For your consideration.. my paper.  


Over the 30+ years since my birth I have assumed multiple new roles, but the most impactful change to date would have to be entering motherhood. I was born into a culture that focuses on motherhood as the main purpose of women, so it is not surprising that I would assume this role. I also had a desire to be a mother. My life course at the time was late-twenties, and my social location included being middle class, married, and owning a home in the suburbs. When the desire alone wasn’t enough to make me a mother, I sought the help of fertility treatments and spent years working to achieve this role. It was an active choice on my part. I had imagined this moment my whole life and built all of my goals around it.

Can anything really prepare someone for motherhood? Well, sociologically speaking, there probably were some processes that helped. I spent a good deal of time engaged in anticipatory socialization. I didn’t take any parenting classes before I became a mother, however, I read many books about parenting and motherhood, talked to many mothers about their experiences and I offered to babysit for anyone who would let me. I also had many role models throughout my life. The women in my family, especially my mother, but also grandmothers and aunts, were my first significant others and agents of socialization. They helped to shape my idea of what it meant to be a mother. When I married, my husband’s family added to the picture, bringing in new and diverse ideas of how a family could work. In my peer groups, observing friends who had already entered that role constructed an image of motherhood that seemed more personally applicable. Another agent of socialization that had a huge impact on my concept of the role of motherhood came from my religious community. Lessons in church throughout my childhood and adolescence focused much of their time on the importance of motherhood. And, of course, we cannot discount the many examples of motherhood I witnessed on television, in movies, and read about in books and magazines.

Once I became a mother and began to actually perform that role, all of these influences continued to guide my behavior and their expectations played a large part in how I saw myself.  Opinions on everything from breastfeeding, to baby gear and sleep training became part of my world view and helped to shape what I thought about these and a variety of other role related issues.

And we must remember that I did not become a mother by myself.  One of the most important counter roles at this time was that of my husband, the father of my child.  The workload of his role as an employee and thus the time he was able to give to participating in parenting determined the amount of help I received from him and directly affected the amount of time I was able to devote to any other roles.  The norms he had internalized in his life created expectations of what a wife and a mother should be responsible for, as well as what his role as a husband and a father entailed.  His expectations influenced and shaped the definition of my role. And we cannot forget the most central counter role, my daughter. She depended on me for all of her needs and did not understand when my needs weren’t being met and how that affected my performance in the role as her mother.  There is no explaining to a newborn that you are exhausted and don’t feel like changing another diaper.  That, more than anything, established some rigid definitions regarding my role as a mother.

Society does its part in defining your role as well. You can tell whether you are acting in an accordance with norms by the reactions you get from strangers.  Whether or not you get asked to lunch by other mothers or if your child is invited on play dates can tell you a lot about how you are viewed as fulfilling your role. And of course, violation of serious norms would cause governmental departments to intervene.  And yet, there are many ways to play the role of ‘mom’ within our culture.  As I adjusted to my new role, I looked for ways to express my individuality. A few ways I believe I did that were having a natural childbirth, choosing to breastfeed, and having the baby sleep in our room.  I also think small things, such as deciding to wear sweatpants to the grocery store, played a part in my performance as a mother.

Motherhood is not an easy addition to a life, and role strain was ever present. It involved many late nights, early mornings and hectic days. I was constantly worrying about whether she was getting enough food or sleep; wondering if she was sick, and questioning my ability to handle this role.  There is a lot of pressure involved in suddenly being completely responsible for another human being.  As I worked to perform my role, I found that many of the things I expected to come naturally, did not.  The firm beliefs I had internalized regarding what would create fulfillment and joy for me as a mother, in reality, left me feeling hollow and broken.  The mismatch in how I felt I was measuring up to my reference groups standards led to inner turmoil.  After the birth of my second child, I even found myself suffering from depression due to, among other factors, my belief that I was failing to live up to those standards.

My self image changed drastically as I filled my role as a mother.  Who I was before seemed to take a back seat, and the parts of my self that didn’t go hand in hand with motherhood seemed to dwindle and disappear.  Motherhood began to overwhelm my self concept and push all else out.  I began to like myself less as more of my self worth became wrapped up in how clean my house was, how well dressed my children were and what kind of mother I was.  I felt as though my previous self imagine was completely disappearing in the face of the new role.

With such a large new role, some previous roles were bound to suffer.  We struggled in our marriage to adapt to having less time for each other and an increased need for teamwork and cooperation. It was a difficult time for us to come to a new understanding of who would do what and what this meant for our relationship. We found ourselves having different expectations, and frequently not understanding what each other expected.  All of which caused conflict between my roles as a wife and as a mother. Other roles, such as friend, sister and musician also suffered with the lack of time to devote to them. Everyone needed more time than I could come up with.

It also changed my role as a daughter, and this time, for the better. I found that it forged a deeper relationship with my mother as we talked more often, I relied on her more, and as I developed a greater appreciation of the performance she gave in her role as my mother. Additionally, with my friends, becoming a mom meant entering the ‘mommy club’.  Those friends who already had children seemed to welcome me back into a new found place in their lives, and those who didn’t seemed to take a step back in our relationship.

I believe, as a society, we celebrate the ideal of motherhood to such a degree that we don’t allow for the voices of those who have differing experiences.  By quieting these voices, I believe many women feel as though something is wrong with them when their role fails to meet those standards. I discovered that finding subcultures and peer groups within my society that felt similarly and were supportive made a huge difference in my ability to find a definition of my role that I could fulfill and be happy with.  I learned it was not the role of motherhood I couldn’t manage, but rather the performance I had been trying to give.  Recently, I decided that part of  my role performance as a mother would involve going back to school.  I  did this, not only to take on a new role to find a level of fulfillment that had been lacking, but also to demonstrate to my children a wider variety of motherhood than I saw in my early socialization. The lack of similar experiences in my life meant that it took a long period of inner struggle and much anticipatory socialization to decide and carry out the addition of that role.  So far, it has been a welcome addition.

Seven years after entering the role of motherhood I can say that it has significantly complicated and enriched my life.  With more women entering the workforce and more men choosing to care for their children full time, I look forward eagerly to what the next generation will bring to this role.

Finding my way

And here I am again! Yes, I know.. it's been more than a month.. but hey, I moved!  (It's not like you didn't know that was coming, sheesh!  haha.)  And man, it's been a doozy.  There's nothing quite as crazy and stressful as deciding to move, and doing it two weeks later.  It takes a special kind of nuttiness to come up with that plan, and a complete lack of any real grasp of reality to go through with it.  That's me and the hubster.. nutty people who refuse to acknowledge reality. :)

So, yeah.. I moved.  I left a 2500 sqft, 5 bedroom house in suburbia for a 1175 sqft, 2 bedroom house in hipster/hippie land. And I'm completely psyched about it. :)  I think the hardest part of the move, besides managing it in such a short time time, was the whittling down of all that we had accumulated in our big ol' suburban house so that we could fit in our new space.  We didn't want to rent a storage unit, and so my move included not only packing, but sorting through it all to decide what to keep.  I've always been a bit of a pack rat.  I like to blame it on growing up poor.. like I lived through the depression, and just can't throw away something that might possibly be useful.. someday.. to someone.  It was a scary task to take on, but in the end, digging through it all to decide what was most important was strangely liberating.  Time consuming, stressful, mentally exhausting.. but fruitful.  When you don't have space for extra baggage, you finally have to face your real priorities in life.

Turns out my priorities are being the right mom for my children, finding a fulfilling path for myself, and being a true partner to my husband for the crazy trip this life is taking is on.  I hope you notice that I did not say that I am hoping to be a perfect mom, or the best mom... I said 'right' mom, because who my children need is me.  A me who is happy, sane and fulfilled. They don't need the super-mom that haunts my nightmares, with her craft projects, clean house, and even tempered ways.., and I remind myself of that daily.  My current hero is a woman named Brené Brown with a PhD in Social Work.  A lot of my parenting philosophies come from her work.. and I just have to share this quote, because I can't explain it better than she does.  (If you want to know more.. watch her Ted Talk)

"You can't give children what you don't have yourself," says Brené Brown. "No matter how much importance you place on it." For instance, you can't raise children to be more resilient to shame than you are yourself. "I can encourage my daughter to love her body," she says, "but what really matters are the observations she makes about my relationship with my own body. Damn it. So the question isn't so much, 'Are you parenting the right way?' as it is, 'Are you the adult you want your child to grow up to be?'"

And, it is from that point of view that I can finally decide that finding a fulfilling path for myself is not selfish, it's the best thing I can do for my children.  And for me, my chosen next step on this path is graduate school.  I've applied at the University of Utah to a Masters of Social Work program.  Right now, I'm playing the waiting game.  I had hoped to know by now.. but I don't.  I have my life arranged in such a way that if I am accepted, I am ready.  If I'm not.. well, back to the drawing board.  Plan B is often a better plan in the end.. so who knows.  I'm not ready to give up on Plan A yet, but if it doesn't pan out, I'm not turning around and going back.. I'll just have to find another way through.

Hello, I'm me.

I'm a thirty something, happily married, mother of two... and I'm starting out on a journey.  Well, that's not exactly accurate.. I've been on a journey for a while, but how do you really decide where each journey starts when life is really a continual journey?  But the pieces I've been picking up, and putting back together, they're starting to show in real, concrete changes.

Like, I'm moving in a week.  I'm moving from my pretty, suburban, house in my pretty, suburban, neighborhood.. and I'm taking my family with me.  I've been aching to get out of Utah since... well, probably since I graduated from college in 2003.. but I got married, he got a job, we bought a house, we had a kid, we bought a bigger house, we had another kid, he got a promotion.. and it just never seemed the right time.  We finally realized the truth of Newton's first law, that an object at rest stays at rest until acted upon by an outside force.  Our life wouldn't change unless we acted.

Three years ago, when my youngest was about 9 months old, I found myself in a dark hole.  I wasn't sure how I got there, and I had no idea how to get out. (Actually, this is probably the real beginning of this particular journey.)  I had spent my life, consciously and unconsciously, working towards the goal of being the best, little, stay-at-home mom that ever was to a houseful of cherubs.  And here I was, two kids in.. and depressed.  I spent my time sleeping too much, failing to keep the house clean, and feeling guilty for sleeping too much and failing to keep the house clean.  When I finally found my way to a therapist and told her who I was and how I felt and what I was thinking, the first thing she said to me was that she had counted, and I had used the word 'should' 35 times in the half an hour I had been there.  My life had become dominated by should's.  There wasn't room for 'I want' or 'I need' or even 'I'd like' because I was trying to finish the 'I should's' first.  And let's face it, 'should' can be a list that never ends. And then she asked me why.  Why should I?  Who said? Who decided those were should's?  And it blew my mind way open.

And so now, Newton, I am acting. After three years of reading, talking, writing, soul searching, talking, crying, researching, talking, thinking, rethinking, yelling, praying, talking...and sifting through who I was to uncover who I am. After all that, I am now moving my family and changing my life.  In the end, we aren't even getting out of Utah, not just yet. (There were a couple of months where Seattle seemed REALLY possible.. but sometimes, life gives you what you need, instead of what you think you want.) In fact, we're only moving 28 miles away.  BUT, since we are moving from the heart of a conservative suburb in Utah to a liberal, hipster downtown neighborhood in SLC it's feels like a whole new world.. with a quick commute for friends.

So, in a week, I'll be in a new place, with who-knows-what ahead of me.  I'm hoping it's grad school.