The roofs are shining from the rain,
The sparrows twitter as they fly,
And with a windy April grace
The little clouds go by.
Yet the back-yards are bare and brown
With only one unchanging tree --
I could not be so sure of spring
Save that it sings in me.
-Sara Teasdale
The birches are in leaf at last, but the rain continues. We plant the first seeds and try to understand how we can do something, anything, to change the horrible things that are happening in the world. Spring holds both the disbelief that genocide and ecological destruction can roll on unstopping, and the small everyday hopes of new life putting out its first flowers.
To care for children is, I think, to have your heart continually broken open: to see things with the wonder of their eyes, to miss the small selves they were before they were the selves they are now, to feel a connection between your beloved children and all the children in the world. We can’t look away from the suffering or need of another child without seeing familiar eyes, familiar hands. We feel the weight and the delight of their steady love.
When I think about what ‘feminist parenting’ means, it’s really a sort of shorthand way of saying that I see the world is so very broken, but I don’t think it’s a hopeless cause. It’s a quick way of saying I know we can look inside ourselves and investigate those reactions and ideas that keep us competing, playing into hierarchies that only serve those at the very top - and bring so much harm to all. It sums up all those messy thoughts about having an open heart that’s ready to grow, and a brave spirit that’s willing to make mistakes as we try to build communities and love our people and make sure there’s somewhere for us all to live and flourish.
Feminism might mean something else to you - that’s ok. But love is at the core of feminist parenting and feminist action in my eyes: love of one another, love of neighbours near and far, love of our green home. Intersectional action, guided by love.
This month as a family we’re getting ourselves outside more and waking up to the spring. The baby Birdie turns 6 near the end of the month - clever as clever! - which feels like a real parenting milestone. Those of you who have been around for a while will remember the struggles he had as a baby1, and seeing him really thrive and chatter on about his magical invented worlds is the most tremendous gift I have ever, ever received. He’s reading, and writing, and playing his trombone, but most importantly, he’s full of joy.
The children have had the fun idea of clearing out our stock of plum jam, chutney and sauce made from allotment plum trees as a fundraiser for Gaza. As soon as the rain clears a bit, we’ll be out in front of our house offering ‘Plums for Palestine and Cats’ (because Birdie is running a side fundraiser for Cats Protection) once a week. Would you like to join us? It doesn’t have to be plums - it could be whatever! It would be lovely to have a dispersed fundraiser over many towns and cities on the same days. If you’re willing to cover shipping, I’m happy to send you a jar of jam or plum chutney! We’ll be donating proceeds to Medical Aid for Palestine.
Other things on my horizon: all things allotmenting, sketching out a summertime social schedule for the family, thinking about next year’s schoolwork plans (would you like another round of Thinking Big guides? Discuss!), and reflecting on the impact social media and smartphones have on boys’ sense of self. Hopefully all this will appear in your inboxes sometime this month.
Educating Feminist People in April
I am damping down my anxiety about Americans finishing up their academic year imminently - we still have a third left here! Summer term is always the smoothest as we know what’s working and what’s possible for the rest of the year.
We took an unplanned 2 weeks off over the Easter holidays. I never stress about these periods because I need regular breaks and we always return refreshed and better able to manage our schedules cheerfully. I like to wrap up our school year at the beginning of July and then take all of July and August off so we have a good long break from formal learning, but I’m not sure we’ll take that long this year, and might start back earlier with core topics.
This month we’re doing a unit on photography based on the children’s physics topic of light. We’re making pinhole cameras and doing some of our own digital and film photography (the children have never taken film-camera pictures!) and looking at some contemporary photography. We visited an underwhelming art show recently about ‘selfies’ and the kids were curious about other kinds of self-portraiture, so we might do a whip-through of some of my favourite feminist self-portrait photographers (eg Claude Cahun and Cindy Sherman).
We don’t really have anything else ‘special’ on this month. We’re reading The Wind in the Willows together alongside Song for a Whale (the best!), and also reading an historical diary novel about the wives of Henry VIII. The children are helping a friend with their new allotment, and loitering around our own allotment, a couple of times a week - aided somewhat by Pokemon Go. A month of somewhat normal life?
Puzzling through the Eternal Food Challenges
You may have an entirely neurotypical family, so this might not apply to you. But I suspect that it may, to some degree. I was the sort of person who, pre-kids, swore that I would make ONE dinner each night, that I wouldn’t be a short order cook making several meals and feeding my children so-called unhealthy food. Ha! Then I had actual real-life children, one of whom is average-kid picky, and one of whom has neurodivergent-related narrow food choices.
I’m okay with this - it’s our reality, and I know that said child is actually getting a fairly balanced mix of vitamins and minerals throughout the week. We’ve moved way beyond Ellen Satter’s division of responsibility - I can’t be responsible for ‘what’ my child eats, or even the ‘when’. He has a handful of lunches and a handful of dinners he’ll eat (which are mostly the same foods), and absolutely will not try other things. Approaching this from a feminist parenting perspective, I see no problem. He is growing, he is asserting his rights to control what goes in his body, and his diet isn’t 100% chocolate. But am I doing enough to encourage him to try new things? What is the line between encouragement and pressure - and how does this affect a child’s ability to truly consent?
I’m curious about programs that support children to develop flexibility and self-reflection in regard to food, like Emily Kuschner’s BUFFET program, which feels like a cross between CBT and a mindfulness program. I’m no expert in neurodivergence (beyond my own experience of it) or in diet culture (for that I turn to Virginia Sole-Smith and Laura Thomas). It seems logical that a gentle, reflective approach to food difficulties is more inherently respectful and consent-honouring than bribery, tricking people into eating food, or the old-fashioned ‘eat it or else’ attitude. Eating is a way to facilitate kids’ developing bodily autonomy - and as an extension of it, their understanding of consent.
It’s not simple in the everyday, though. Daily we have a small conflict/situation in our house at dinnertime2. I am frazzled and annoyed by making 3 or 4 different dinners, or at minimum 2 different dinners with a third variation. The ‘special dinner’ aka the plate of safe foods for the child who only eats a few foods gets nibbled but mostly avoided, and then at 8pm and 10pm said child requests a bowl of weetabix. It feels like said child is avoiding their dinner (all of which is safe food) to only eat cereal, especially to T who is triggered by food waste. Frustration ensues.
Framing it differently, as I would if I was advising someone else, I can see that by the end of the day, the child in question probably doesn’t have the wherewithal to sit at the table and eat at the same time, maybe due to tiredness or overstimulation or excitement at having Daddy down from the office and at the table. Is there anything inherently wrong with cereal for dinner? Is it materially different from the plain pasta that was on the plate? Not really. Is it labour-intensive to provide a bowl of cereal or two? No. Yet inside the situation it doesn’t feel great. I feel like I should be ‘tougher’ and at least expect my child to eat his (favourite!) dinner instead of cereal, even if it’s at bedtime or beyond. I feel frustrated that I went to the trouble of making the special dinner (which isn’t laborious to make, especially as I’ve been making the same dinner daily for many years now) for it to be uneaten, but I also can’t face just setting a bowl of cereal out for dinner - that feels like I’m not feeding my kid properly! There’s so many feelings and internalised ideas about the ‘right’ way to parent in this one daily interaction. I imagine you have similar flashpoints throughout the day. Maybe it’s about snacks, or breakfast.
So what to do? I’m not entirely sure, but I try to keep two things in mind. One is, always, my kid’s well-being. Is he growing healthily AND feeling like he has autonomy? Is he stretching his comfort zone sometimes, without always feeling pressured or overstretched? Does he feel reassured, not shamed, about his relationship with food? Does he understand why scientifically it’s not a great idea to have chocolate for breakfast every day, but that occasionally it’s all right?
The other thing I try to consider is my own inner messaging about ‘good’ mothering and ‘good’ diets and how this might be informing my response to my child’s needs. If I can respond from a place of compassion instead of cultural programming, I’m more likely to avoid feeling guilt and frustration.
And finally, links!
Spring playlist. I will be utterly sad when the children are too old for these tunes. Love them while you can.
Eloise Rickman’s new book It’s Not Fair is out on 20th June and you can pre-order it now! Eloise is offering a few sneak peeks of the book on her newsletter Small Places over the next few weeks. One to check out for sure! I hope to have an interview for you with Eloise in the next couple of weeks.
Gurle Talk and Hayward of the Dale: cwitha and girl as a gender-neutral term in the LRB.
I’ve been hunting for a teenage babysitter for the occasional evening so this piece in the Atlantic and this one about teen babysitting and the impossibility of the parenting condition both caught my eye. As an aside: what do you think about the Baby Sitters Club graphic novels? A enjoys them, I’m not personally sold on them and prefer the books I read as a kid.
The Devil Walking part 1 and part 2 - a hard but compelling listen about young boys, gangs, and drug dealing.
I don’t have many book recommendations to share because March was the Month of Harry Potter (expect a long newsletter about this next week…..) but I did enjoy Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women and we adored reading The Hobbit as a family. I’m reading Killjoy and He Who Drowned the World at the moment. A’s picks for the month are the Amulet series, Katie the Catsitter, and the newest Dragon Force book.
My current curiosity: seaweed foraging. But go carefully, considering the water quality where you are. It’s still wild garlic season and I’m making wild garlic olive oil and attempting wild garlic capers this weekend.
I’ll leave it there for now.
Go gently and be brave,
Jamey
TL:DR catch up - as an infant Birdie had some muscular problems in his jawline which affected feeding and he struggled mightily to grow as he ought. I exclusively pumped for him for 6 months and if you are pumping then A THOUSAND HATS OFF to you because it was bloody horrible. And then the little fellow went and got sepsis and gave us all a right scare, and was a bit poorly until he made it through his first year. A tough cookie, that one.
I love what Virginia Sole-Smith has to say here about family dinner and bodily autonomy.
we mainly eat cereal as our evening meal. we found moving the 'main' meal to lunchtime a better fit, not always possible, but for us worked better. We also don't make Little Miss sit down. She often stands, kneels, sometimes sits. Sometimes does a wiggle break half way through. Even sits with the dog.