my post today is an essay i wrote for a fabulous blog project called “a liberated life.” vanessa and sarah solicit and post essays wherein women of every age and stage chronicle their joys and concerns along the path toward liberation.

here’s an excerpt, but you’ll have to scurry over to “a liberated life” to read the rest:

Liberation, as it turns out, is not as simple as a dream job or a grad school diploma, or a positive pregnancy test, or a happy home. In fact, I cannot even begin to envision what a liberated life might look like for today’s mothers, whose souls brim with enough passion and opportunity to fill a warehouse full of moon bounces and inflatable slides. There is an anxiety that comes with motherhood that has far outgrown the widespread dreams for balance and the tired juggling metaphors. Scientists study it, and talk show hosts allude to it, but this anxiety, for the most part, remains undefined.

how would YOU define a liberated life?

[this is the second in a series of guest posts written by jennifer harrison, who was perhaps the only other person in my high school english classes who joined me in gleeful celebration when called up on to diagram sentences. jennifer’s posts will highlight how her vocation as an elementary school teacher informs her parenting, and vice-versa. her bio is located at the conclusion of this post.] 

Milestones in a school year inspire my inner mathematician to make an appearance. As I wrap up my fall parent-teacher conferences, I think back to the number of conferences that I have conducted as the teacher in the parent-teacher duo. I imagine that the number is now close to 500, which is a fairly remarkable number given that I so clearly remember my very first parent teacher conference. I was a young, new teacher, spruced up in a carefully chosen outfit and neatly applied makeup that I hoped would give me more authority than my 21 years commanded.

image from reason.com

Things have changed a great deal since those early days of my career, and I naturally see that each of these conferences is much more than an opportunity to put my best sartorial foot forward. These meetings, while not without significant amounts of preparation and planning, are nonetheless a welcome respite from parents’ and teachers’ hectic day-to-day schedules, schedules that hardly afford us the opportunity to sit down as a team and talk about the accomplishments and the needs of young children. Conferences are opportunities for me to connect and collaborate with my students’ first and most important teachers.  

I love watching parents’ faces as I discuss their child. I love it when they lean in a little closer to listen carefully to my description of the child, whom they love so much. It is so exciting to watch their eyes twinkle as I share a funny anecdote about their child or reveal a significant accomplishment or contribution; and I delight in seeing them emphatically nod in agreement as I outline what I believe to be their child’s special and unique talents.

Conversely, I feel rushes of compassion and sympathy when conversations turn toward challenges and frustrations in the classroom. I see that parents so dearly want their children to succeed. This is a goal that I share, one that propels me to communicate in a way that inspires positive action and manageable objectives.

My daughter, Elizabeth, is only 16 months old, so I am not quite at the point where I’ll put on the parent hat during parent-teacher conference time. Yet I often wonder what Elizabeth’s teachers will share with my husband and me as our daughter grows from a toddler to a child to a young woman. What personality traits will emerge as she grows up and learns more about the world around her? Will her unyielding determination to figure out how those stacking cups work turn into a love of geometry? Does the way in which she babbles as she flips the pages of her books mean that we will have an eager, voracious reader on our hands? Is her sunny greeting of “hi, hi” to everyone she meets indicative of a friendly, engaging girl? Is her high-pitched, frustrated wail of toddler-hood a harbinger of a stubborn streak when things don’t go her way?

What will Elizabeth’s teachers say to my husband and me that will make our eyes twinkle, that will prompt us to lean in a little closer?  

 jennifer harrison earned her bachelors and masters degrees at vanderbilt and has taught in public and private schools since 1999. she currently enjoys chicago city life with her ER nurse husband, 16-month-old daughter elizabeth, and dog rowdy. when jennifer is not parenting or teaching, she loves to read, take pictures, travel, and search for the perfect latte.

[this is the first in a series of guest posts written by jennifer harrison, who was perhaps the only other person in my high school english classes who joined me in gleeful celebration when called up on to diagram sentences. jennifer’s posts will highlight how her vocation as an elementary school teacher informs her parenting, and vice-versa. her bio is located at the conclusion of her wise words.] 

I’m not a math person but I have recently been throwing together some numbers. The upcoming school year marks my tenth as a classroom teacher. Each year, I’ve taught about 20 kids. This means that in all, I’ve worked with roughly 200 students, not to mention about 400 parents. So, long before I began raising my own daughter, Elizabeth, I was introduced to the wonderful, complicated, emotional, and consuming business of parenting.

While I will begin this school year and its requisite parent partnerships with a good chunk of experience under my belt, I nonetheless approach my tenth class with new eyes: the eyes of a new mother, who fiercely loves her daughter and only wants the best for her. I know that each first grade parent I will meet next week was once just like I am now: constantly chasing after a toddler; looking at a little face and wondering what kind of person this small being will become; and hoping that a cheerful, babbling child will always know a happy and abundant life.

Throughout my years as a teacher, I have come to believe that there is one essential truth about parenting. All parents, no matter whether they are overbearing, laid-back, or somewhere in between, absolutely love their children. The way in which this love manifests itself is wildly different from parent to parent. Some parents wring their hands in fretful anxiety about what I, as a teacher, know is a minor bump in the road (if it’s even a bump at all!). Others celebrate every victory and milestone with endless flashes of the camera and small notes in lunchboxes. Still others occupy themselves with very demanding careers so that they can provide their children with a vast array of creature comforts and material things. Regardless of how hands-on or hands-off a parent may appear to be, their common fuel is their deep and abiding love of sons and daughters.

” Too often, we critically declare that this mother works too much, this father hovers around the school too frequently, or this couple places too many demands on their child.”

I think it is unfortunately too easy for so many of us — teachers, fellow parents, and the casual observers of society — to quickly, harshly judge parents. Too often, we critically declare that this mother works too much, this father hovers around the school too frequently, or this couple places too many demands on their child. It helps to remember that all of those parents once held a moments-old newborn in their arms. They have all become enraptured, as I have, with the enormity and the wonder of a life that is, as a friend so wisely put it, pure potential. That moment is the tie that binds us all together as parents. It is a tie that I now share with the 36 parents who will soon receive a letter from me in the mail. I now understand the eyes with which those parents will read that letter. This fresh perspective has renewed my commitment to my career, and it has reminded me of all that I hope Elizabeth and I will grow to be as mother and daughter.

jennifer harrison earned her bachelors and masters degrees at vanderbilt and has taught in public and private schools since 1999. she currently enjoys chicago city life with her ER nurse husband, 13-month-old daughter elizabeth, and dog rowdy. when jennifer is not parenting or teaching, she enjoys reading, photography, travel, and the quest for the perfect latte.