i returned last night from the young clergy women’s conference, the topic of which was “leading as ourselves.” as i sat in the sub-artic environs of our candler divinity school classroom and looked around at my fellow girl preachers, i was struck by both awe and jealousy. many of these women work full time in the church or other para-church settings. some of them have children, some of them work part-time or half-time, but very few seemed to be on the piecemeal job plan as i am, stringing together a haphazard collection of part-time gigs with the trials and rewards of stay-at-home motherhood.

i learned later, of course, that i am not the only one holding my life and life’s work together with odd combinations of pipe cleaners, vestments, therapy, wine, and a steam mop. the room was full of those who long, as i did, to have children; those who struggle for balance of all kinds; those who are facing transitions; and those who are wrestling with issues of identity. 

i did not know all of this on day one, though, when one of our beloved speakers, melissa clodfelter, asked us what leadership-related topics we would like to cover in our time together. so, i raised my hand and explained that i am often trying to lead from the margins. because of my simultaneous frustration and delight with the church and my desire to spend the majority of my time with the monkey and the bird, i am never central to the church’s power structures. i often feel like an outsider, and i wonder if i can ever actually effectively lead from this position. though i felt as if i were speaking only for myself at the conference, i know that the world is full of women who feel marginalized in the workplace, whether for reasons of choice or unfair circumstance. what kind of leadership do we, the women on the fringes, have to offer?

i was relieved when melissa answered that the margins are the places from which true leadership emerges. it is only by stepping outside of the structures that rule our world that we gain the perspective needed to change things. fitting in is not a prerequisite for effective leadership, as evidenced by gandhi, martin luther king jr., and jesus christ, himself! in fact, affecting change requires an uncomfortable, liminal type of existance.

i am beginning to see that leadership, from my own personal margins might look like this:

• changing the world, by raising boys who are emotionally intelligent, compassionate, and justice-seeking. brown eyes over scrambled eggs, and all that…
• remaining on the fringes of church in order to speak from a place of perspective and insight.
• remaining connected to the church so that my perspective and insight will matter.
• writing here about what it’s like to try fashion a real, meaningful life that honors my own leanings as well as the legacies handed down to me by superwomen, fifties housewives, and everyone in between.

but mostly, i’m beginning to be thankful that i never quite fit in anywhere. in an odd sort of way, i am in good company. and there is meaning to be found in the margins and proclaimed to the world. thanks for joining me in this process — this little makeshift revolution.

i think it is very telling that the diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (DSM), the giant tome published by the american psychiatric association to aid mental health professionals in diagnoses and treatments, is revised regularly, in part, to reflect changes in our culture.

in other words, there is an evolving cultural consciousness that helps determine what sorts of behaviors are disordered and what sorts are not. and perhaps, more importantly, sometimes societal norms change to CREATE new disorders.

without further explanation, here is my letter to the american psychiatric association, suggesting that they consider adding a new disorder to the upcoming DSM-V:

dear american psychiatric association,

my name is mary allison, and in many ways, my life is a reflection of today’s motherhood and vocational trends for young(ish) women. i have a hard-earned master’s degree and two long-awaited small children, a part-time job in the world, and a full time job in the home. these conditions have led me to the following pattern of disordered behaviors, called  maternal part-time hybrid disorder (M-phD) from here on out. please consider adding M-phD to the DSM-V.

overcommitment: as one who suffers from M-phd, i commit myself to too many work-related projects in order to compensate for my fear that my four-year masters degree and growing passion about my work will forever lie dormant.

vanderbilt divinity school graduation with my friend maria

self-applied pressure: because my full-time work in the home means that my presence in the working world is abbreviated, i feel that my vocational output must be of exaggerated quality to make up for its lack of quantity.

failure to live in the moment: i have come to measure the worth of my days by the amount of work i have accomplished, which is silly when my days are full of soft, curly, wiggly embraces.

the above behaviours produce an array of symptoms ranging from feelings of inadequacy, guilt, and the permanent “storage” of junk under the couch.

i would greatly appreciate any strides your esteemed association could take in the diagnosis and treatment of M-PhD.

sincerely,

mary allison

first name: Mary

age: 27

current city: Denver, CO (hometown Memphis, TN)

living situation: I live with my (soon to be) five year old son, Wally, and my boyfriend, Jeff. 

occupation: As of now, I’m a mom and student. My photography degree is collecting dust. I hope that medical school is in my near future.

how do you structure your time and space? For the first years of marriage and motherhood, I found myself feeling guilty for wanting personal time and space; I thought the world would stop if I took 90 minutes of the day to enjoy myself in a yoga class.

Now that I have broken that bad habit, I never feel satisfied with what I choose to do in my free time. There are so many things to be done! Even if I spend half the day cleaning, I can think of a million things I could have done instead. The worst is when I am playing with Wally, and I feel like I should be doing something else. It’s really not fair for him or me. I haven’t quite figured out how to manage MY time. Taking in each moment and being thankful for each moment is what I am working on.

One of many things that I tried giving up for lent was bad thoughts. It’s really easy to let those thoughts in when I am having a bad day or am overly tired, but I have made a conscious effort to acknowledge those thoughts as just thoughts and let them pass. This helps me enjoy the moment that I am in. I’ve started trying to meditate for 30 minutes in the mornings and evenings. In the morning meditations, I allow my “What-Ifs” and “Shoulda Woulda Coulda’s”, to come in, just to give those thoughts a time and place in my stream of consciousness. The evening meditation is MUCH more difficult; I try very, very hard to let all thoughts go in one ear and out the other. If I don’t allow myself that time, I will spend hours in bed over-analyzing everything!

We recently moved to Denver, and Wally’s schedule was changed the most. In Durango, he was in a full day preschool program. Now, he is in a part time play-based pre-kindergarten program. I wish he were in a longer program, but I am always amazed at what he teaches me at the end of the day. I hope he will be going to an expeditionary style school next year, which uses the teachings of Outward Bound. (I think it is especially tailored to high energy boys.)

I feel best when I am elbow deep in some concoction I’m making in the kitchen. I spend most of my day in the kitchen. Cooking presents so many possibilities! I am working on perfecting mozzarella right now for our pizza nights, and I’m trying my hand at crackers.

I am seriously considering going to medical school. This notion has been a small voice within in me for years, and it has only gotten louder. It has taken me years to gain the self-confidence to own this medical school dream. I’m older, with a child, and I know I want more children in the future. Is it okay to sacrifice a few years of being the active kind of mother I am now? Whethor or not I could cut it in medical school is no longer the question. Now it’s about deciding what I really want for my future. Is it really possible to have it all?!

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives,

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? A challenge in this season is accepting that it takes time to regain structure after a change. In our recent move, I had hoped that all would fall into place and that things would calm down. I guess they have in some ways. I do have a much clearer idea of how I want to live out the rest of my life, what I want for my family, and how I want to spend my time.

-What season(s) preceded this one? Before my current season, I had seven years of hibernation and feeling lost. I built a cocoon around myself and let things happen without being fully engaged (marriage, giving birth, moving across the country, getting divorced, finally finishing school, finding my love, and moving again). I am just now realizing that I was probably dealing with depression while living my life at warp speed. I never felt like I had a grip on things. But, life has finally slowed down (or I am getting used to warp speed), and things are much clearer. I wouldn’t change how my life has panned out; I’ve learned a lot and still keep discovering parts of myself. Where I am currently in my life feels perfect! I feel like I finally have a handle on everything!

-What season(s) might your future hold? Full fledged spring: a time of growth, renewal, a new spring in my step, and shedding skins.

Favorite family activity/activities: Friday night is pizza-and-a-movie night. I make enough pizza dough for about 4 pizzas. Some nights, friends will come over, and other nights it’s just the family. I really love that we have made a family tradition into it and that it is an open invitation for our extended family to take part. Wednesdays are breakfast-for-dinner nights. I love those nights, also. 

favorite solo activities: imagining, creating, reading, taking in the sunshine, gardening, and being quiet

sources of inspiration: My grandparents. My grandfather was a doctor, but never let go of his creative, artistic side. He currently has a wood workshop, and he had a metal workshop and a darkroom for many years. My grandmother has a painting studio.  My grandfather loves digital photography and Photoshop, and neither of them has ever put down the paintbrush! My biggest issue with figuring out what I want to be when I grow up is finding that balance of left and right brain activities. My grandparents are the epitome of that balance.

Wally is also an inspiration to me. I would not be the person I am today with him.

Jeff keeps me grounded. I have an enormous amount of friends and family who offer 100% support to every, single idea that I have. Jeff offers that same support but he knows me well enough to know when one idea probably isn’t the best (law school, for example). 

My mom was a pioneer makeshift mom. Some of her makeshifting may not have been the best ideas (see below). She never seemed to be worried about the latest trends in parenting.

best MakeShift moment: I’ll tell you my worst! When I was in kindergarten, my mother would send me to school with a bottle in my lunch box. My brother was bottle feeding, and I guess my mom didn’t have any drink containers for me. I would get made fun of by the sixth graders! I called my mom everyday saying I had a tummy ache. Lesson learned: Don’t send elementary-aged children to school with bottles!

If I am making dinner and Wally is bored, I’ll give him a bowl of water with food coloring and expired herbs, he’ll spend hours making potions and spells.

I do most of my school reading on the toilet, while Wally is in the bathtub. When he was younger, he never had a real crib (just a pack and play), or his own room, or a chest of drawers. He lived in the living room and his clothes were in a little nook on the bookshelf. We also didn’t have a chimney, so for Wally’s first Christmas, I drew and cut out a chimney and hung up stockings on the faux fireplace.

[if you know someone who would make a good “mothers of invention” feature, check out the nomination process detailed on the sidebar pages to the right.]

dear martha,

do not worry. this is not another letter expressing disappointment in your ethics pertaining to the world of finances. your time in the big house actually scored you many points in  my book, not because i’m a fan of insider trading, but because it was refreshing to see that you are not perfect. i appreciate your post-incarceration humility and humor.

you and i share a love for cooking crafting, wellness, and gardening (though you are on your own in the home-cleaning arena) so i subscribe to your magazine for inspiration. i am writing to discuss the calendar that appears at the beginning of every issue and is a prominent feature on your website. it is my understanding that your readers are to use your plans for the month to tailor our own, equally lofty ideations. the problem is, on “private yoga lesson” day, i walked out the door to meet my private yoga teacher and suddenly realized that i don’t have one of those. i had similar experiences on “prune espaliered apple trees” day, “get horses vaccinated” day, and “insert supports in peony garden” day.

sure, you might say that i could still rotate and flip my mattresses, bake your mother’s babka, host an egg hunt for family and friends, and remove my storm windows but doesn’t this all seem a bit ambitious for the month of april?

i’m actually not suggesting that you change the content of this calendar feature or anything else about your magazine and related endeavors. i truly think that you make this world a more creative place. the problem is that, in the process, your gusto and success make the rest of us feel like schmucks.

in my opinion, this problem could be easily solved with a simple name change on your part. instead of calling your magazine and related endeavors “martha stewart,” which insinuates that all this cooking, crafting, wellness, gardening, and home-making craziness can be done well by one person, why don’t you change the name on everything to “martha stewart and her bazillion employees, assistants, and trainers.” that way, we could all be reminded from the outset that you, as we have come to know you, are not A PERSON but AN ENTERPRISE.

best wishes to you and your entourage as you fill your birdbaths, host galas in the barn, and switch from flannel to percale sheets next month.

your faithful reader,

mary allison

[pictures in this post are from mediabistro.com and ceoworld.biz.]

[as promised, here is sarah’s new york times letter to the editor:]

To the Editor:

As a 28-year-old former New Yorker with a successful career in marketing, I am constantly thinking about work-life balance as my husband and I prepare to try for our first baby.

His thriving career would allow me to stay home with few financial sacrifices. Still, I’ve fought hard to convince him that I can share the privilege of providing for our family so that he’ll have the same freedom I do to pursue alternate career paths and a deep relationship with our children.

These young women who have their hearts set on dabbling in a job for a decade before raising families full time are about as realistic as Naugahyde – it’s the 1950’s all over again, with a twist.

They’re locking today’s men in the provider role just as securely as postwar women were locked into the homemaker role. Not fair then; not fair now.

Sarah

Tampa, Florida

two summers ago i attended a women’s conference in montreat, north carolina. there, we examined and discussed the various and brillient ways in which women are making a difference in the world. i was inspired by talk of women who brought about peace in liberia, founded women’s shelters, and lived lives of compassion in calcutta. but i was also discouraged about the modesty of my own little life as a part-time minister and full time mother. i felt the urge to do something bigger and more important, and when i expressed this to the speaker in a forum full of conferees, i opened myself up to the following feedback that came to me from all directions for the rest of the week. it generally went something like this:

“you are young, and smart, and your life is full of potential for making a difference inside of your home and out in the world. your motherhood is every bit as important as your career; the effect you have on your children is equally as important as the effect you have as a minister. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO IT ALL AT ONCE. there are seasons of your life that are spent largely at home, and there are seasons that can be spent engaging with the world one important project at a time. be patient. don’t get ahead of yourself. enjoy every season for the pleasures it brings and the good it allows you to do.”

this is really good advice, however cliche it has become. and i try to remember it when it feels like what i’m doing is too small, and when i’m trying to resist the urge to cram my already full life with preschool fundraisers, additional preaching gigs, ideations of elaborate dinner parties, books i want to write, et cetera.

at its worst, the seasons metaphor could lure women into satisfaction with lives that are too small. but for me, a constant crammer of too many activities into folds of time and space that are not built to hold them, the seasons metaphor serves its best purpose. it helps me to see the advantages of my current season, and it makes me want to embrace them for the short-lived gems that they are.

pictured in this post are eight seasons paintings i created for my dad for christmas ’09.

it was christmas eve, and my husband was at the grocery store stocking up for the following morning’s family gathering. young couple nate and nicole sat before me in my living room as they perused sample prayers for their upcoming wedding. i, their officiating minister, had envisioned a professional chat, wherein i would outline their choices for the service and the theological significance conveyed by each. i would pay careful attention to the dynamic and energy of the couple’s relationship so that i could craft an honest and fitting wedding homily for their big day.

i think it is safe to assume that nate and nicole afforded their minister many glimpses into their relationship during our time together but, sadly, i did not take note of any of them. instead, i held my fussy 11-month-old in the wake of his failed nap and tried hard to ignore his obvious need for a new diaper. the eternally gracious couple would have accommodated my need to dash to the nursery for a quick pants change, but such a trip would have left my three-year-old under the christmas tree, where he was already beginning to open countless presents, despite my sternest of mommy-stares.

when i was raised in a culture, influenced so heavily by women’s progress and the promise that women could “have it all” (a fulfilling career, a joyous family life, and time for self, others, and matters of the spirit), this christmas eve circus and the superhero existence required for such fullness of life were not what i had pictured. i am a full-time mother and a part-time minister, whose partner is as supportive financially, domestically, and emotionally as he can possibly be. even so, i confess that if this chaotic and often isolating juggling act is the picture of “having it all,” then i no longer want it all.

there is such a vast territory between the ultra-traditional women’s roles of long ago and the ultra-idealistic standards for women’s success that are still prized by our culture and dangled before us like distorted fun house mirrors. who lives in this territory? are there women out there who are blazing a new path to a more balanced existence, who are replacing these old models for motherhood with the creative hum-drum of their daily lives?

it is my hunch that many wonderful, creative women live in this territory, and i am hereby making it my job to highlight as many of them as i can. it is my hope that by putting our stories together, we could go from creating healthier lives for ourselves, to creating a healthier culture of motherhood for the world.

let the MakeShift revolution begin!

the first picture in this post was taken during my brother’s wedding, an experiment in chaos wherein i was the officiant, my eldest was the ring bearer, and my husband was a groomsman. the second picture reveals the mess my children made during the last dinner party i hosted. good thing our guests had a sense of humor!