Othering the mother.

Just Another Jenny wrote about "I don't know how you do it:"

There is nothing that prompted this post except memory. For some reason this phrase bubbled to the forefront of my mind and I remembered the pain it can sometimes bring:

I don't know how you do it.

Lots of us have heard it from time to time.  I don't usually experience it as "painful;" rather, annoying (not this again).  But I have heard it mostly in reference to aspects of my lifestyle about which I do not have ambiguous or negative feelings.  I remember hearing it while I was a graduate student in engineering school, for instance. ("I don't know how you do..." what?  Math?)  And I hear it now about home education and about raising five children.  I channel the slight annoyance into bemusement and, I'm afraid, into a tiny sense of superiority which I really should try to quash.  

Of course you don't know how I do it.  That's why I do it, and you don't.

No, I don't say it out loud, but I admit to thinking it.  It's not good because, though interior, it represents a  retaliation in kind.  I am hitting back with the same stick that is being waved at me.  

+ + +

Jenny is in a situation significantly different from mine, but one that attracts "I don't know how you do it" from mothers in situations that are more similar to mine:

Usually the context of this phrase is when a mother who normally stays home with her children has had to leave town without them for a few days. She is struck by how much she misses her children and how happy she is to be reunited and then the fatal phrase is uttered:

"I don't know how you working mothers do it. I missed my children so much. I could not do this everyday."

It stabs. The intent is almost never malicious. It is an innocent wonder at how such a burden could consistently be borne. The problem with voicing such a thought is not that it isn't reasonable or true. The problem is that it very reasonable and terribly true.

I think I've put my finger on what the "problem" with this vocalization is.  The "problem" is not that it is true and painful.  It's not even that it is an expression of pity; genuine pity is not necessarily negative (although it can be).

Jenny is probably correct that it is not said in malice, but I think she is not correct that it is innocent.  The intent may be unconscious, but here's what underlies "I don't know how you do it:"

It is an othering statement.

If you don't like the slight "buzzwordiness" of the term "othering," you might try substituting the term "invalidation;" it is the same sort of thing, although personally I think the verb "to other" is a quite concise use of the English language to express what is going on here.

Like many other examples of "othering,"  IDKHYDI exists in an ambiguous point on the spectrum between unconscious and intentional.  People do it on purpose, and people do it without realizing it, and there is usually plausible deniability ("I certainly didn't mean it that way, she was reading too much into what I said to her"); so it is impossible both to give careless speakers an appropriate benefit of the doubt and to call people out when they cross the line.  

And so othering goes on, blithely, and no one is willing to do anything about it, because come on, what are you going to do?

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Here is a decently written introduction to "othering:"

By “othering”, we mean any action by which an individual or group becomes mentally classified in somebody’s mind as “not one of us”. Rather than always remembering that every person is a complex bundle of emotions, ideas, motivations, reflexes, priorities, and many other subtle aspects, it’s sometimes easier to dismiss them as being in some way less human, and less worthy of respect and dignity, than we are.

"I don't know how you do it" is precisely a way of dismissing other women.  And yes, it's the same kind of thing as lumping into one group everybody who votes for that other political party.  It's exactly the same thing that creates "death by a thousand cuts" in the workplace, in the community, for people who visibly belong to minority ethnic groups or who have visible disabilities.

It quite literally says:  I am unable to have empathy for you.   

You are so different from me that I am not able to imagine myself walking in your shoes.  I will not make any reference to trying.

It appears to be a compliment:  your abilities are beyond my imagination; but it is in fact a backhanded compliment:  your personhood is beyond my imagination.   

It imagines that your unimaginable skills must be made possible only by the existence of some deficiency:  the working mother must lack a certain maternal love for her children, the mother of numerous closely spaced children must lack self-control or intelligence or self-respect, the parent of disabled children must be somehow "special" herself for God to have sent the children to her.  

(Whatever; it couldn't happen to me, says IDKHYDI, because I, unlike you, am normal, normative, mainstream.)

It says:  You must be different from me in some fundamental way.  You are a different kind of person, because "I could never" be the kind of person who would "do what you do."  

It says:  If I were in your situation, I'd do things differently.  

It might even mean:  I could never get into the situation you've gotten yourself into.  That's why I don't bother to imagine how I would cope:  because I know that I wouldn't get into your situation.  I don't have to imagine how I could do that, because what has happened to you would never happen to me.  I am not the kind of person that you are, the kind of person that would let that happen.

+ + +

This is why I say it would be better if I quashed my internal reaction ("of course you don't know how I do it"); the internal reaction is a retaliatory othering, one that says, "Oh, I'm 'the other' to you?  Well, guess what, sister; you're 'the other' to me, and I rather like it that way."

The source I linked above on "othering" is called There Are No Others; it has not been updated in a while, which is too bad, as it seemed like a really good start.  From the same page I linked:

The concept behind this site, then, is that

• a) humans have an undeniable and insidious inclination to engage in “othering” thought patterns for the purpose of self-preservation, and
• b) learning to avoid and counteract these thought patterns is integral to greatly reducing the world’s hatred and suffering.

Our intent is to raise people’s consciousness about othering behaviour, to make them more alert to these thought patterns, and to encourage alternative ways of addressing the problems that we often seek to avoid by dehumanising any one group.

I want to be aware of mental "othering" and "othering" behavior in myself.  It may be true that we naturally do it, as a form of self-preservation and group preservation, naming certain people as our neighbors who are like us and "othering" different people, for safety.  But being human, we are more than natural, and we are called to constantly ask "who is my neighbor?" and acknowledge that the answer is "anyone."  There is no good excuse for dehumanizing anyone, even a little bit.

This might be a good Lenten calling for anyone:  search out the othering, mental and vocal, and search out the invalidation, the defense mechanism. Notice it, and try to root it out wherever it occurs.

Everyone is fully human?

Even those people?

Yep.

Now try to behave as if it is true.

Comments

[Kate]

I feel like there are certain kinds of compliments that are also "othering" statements, even though I can't quite describe why they grate on me. Sweeping statements about the virtues of women or mothers, for example. There's a subtext of "I don't know how/why you do it" to statements like, "there is no force as strong as a mother's love and forgiveness" that almost seems to make certain virtues commonplace and unworthy of respect on an individual level when displayed by individual members of the complimented class. My love for my family becomes this alien thing that is credited to my motherhood rather than to my personhood. Which also serves as a handy excuse for the (male) speaker to dismiss anything he might learn from the virtues of the women in his life.

That's just the example that comes to mind because it's the one that most often leaves me sputtering incoherently, but I imagine this is the effect that even positive statements based on race or nationality must have.

[Barbara C.]

I guess when people have said to me "I don't know how you do it" I see it more as them feeling deficient about themselves than anything bad about me.

Well, come to think of it, it depends on what they're talking about. If it's the five young kids thing (especially now that I'm recognized as a single parent) then I honestly reply, "By the grace of God." Because I don't know how I do it half the time. I do it because it's what I have to do, and I seriously doubt that I'm doing it well most of the time.

If someone says it in reference to homeschooling, I probably do see that one more as "Why would you want to do that?"

On the flip side, I have sincerely wondered at times "How does she do that?" Whether it's people like Jen Fuwhiler and Simcha Fisher, with writing books, blogging, public speaking, hosting radio shows while raising a slew a of young children or the moms I know in real life who are active in ministry and volunteer work while working full time jobs and raising young children.

It took me a long time to realize that the reason they could do it but I "couldn't" was because they had strong support systems in place. They have husbands that they can trust to help them and try to lighten their burdens instead of just adding to them. They have a lot of family and family-like friends nearby that they can depend on if they need help; they have a community. And they aren't afraid to make use options like "real school" or childcare programs.

[Jenny]

I think there is a distinction between genuine admiration and thinly veiled gratefulness that "I am not you," but the latter do use the former as cover and don't like being called on it.

I think the rule of thumb is that if you are remarking on some notable achievement, it is fine to say "I don't know how you do it." For example, you once mentioned that you can carry a baby and chop an onion at the same time. I am in awe of this skill. I don't know how you do that. Yes, with practice, I could do it too, but, wow.

If, however, you are making comment on some not very changeable fundamental of life which might be a source of ambiguous feeling to the recipient, just don't. Find another, better way to say it.