Objavljeno: 16. feb 2005 21:37
Za vse mamice 
Awoman
named Emily renewing her driver s license at the CountyClerk s
office was asked by the woman recorder to state heroccupation. She
hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What Imean is,"
explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a. . . .?
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I m a Mom."
"We don t list Mom as an occupation . . . Housewife covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
Iforgot
all about her story until one day I found myself in the samesituation,
this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously acareer woman,
poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding titlelike,
"Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What isyour
occupation?" she probed. What made me say it, I do not know? Thewords
simply popped out. "I m a Research Associate in the field ofChild
Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused,ball-point
pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had notheard right. I
repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the mostsignificant words. Then
I stared with wonder as my pronouncement waswritten in bold, black ink
on the official
questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly,without
any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I havea
continuing program of research, (what mother doesn t), in thelaboratory
and in the field, (normally I would have said indoorsand out).
I mworking
for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already havefour
credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the
mostdemanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree.?), and
Ioften work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is
morechallenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are
moreof a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was
anincreasing note of respect in the clerk s voice as she completed
theform, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As
Idrove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I
wasgreeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I
couldhear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in
thechild-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt
Ihad scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the
officialrecords as someone more distinguished and indispensable to
mankind than"just
another Mom."
Motherhood . . . What a glorious career! Especially when there s a title on the door.
named Emily renewing her driver s license at the CountyClerk s
office was asked by the woman recorder to state heroccupation. She
hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What Imean is,"
explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a. . . .?
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I m a Mom."
"We don t list Mom as an occupation . . . Housewife covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
Iforgot
all about her story until one day I found myself in the samesituation,
this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously acareer woman,
poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding titlelike,
"Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What isyour
occupation?" she probed. What made me say it, I do not know? Thewords
simply popped out. "I m a Research Associate in the field ofChild
Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused,ball-point
pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had notheard right. I
repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the mostsignificant words. Then
I stared with wonder as my pronouncement waswritten in bold, black ink
on the official
questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly,without
any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I havea
continuing program of research, (what mother doesn t), in thelaboratory
and in the field, (normally I would have said indoorsand out).
I mworking
for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already havefour
credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the
mostdemanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree.?), and
Ioften work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is
morechallenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are
moreof a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was
anincreasing note of respect in the clerk s voice as she completed
theform, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As
Idrove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I
wasgreeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I
couldhear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in
thechild-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt
Ihad scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the
officialrecords as someone more distinguished and indispensable to
mankind than"just
another Mom."
Motherhood . . . What a glorious career! Especially when there s a title on the door.
Doesthis
make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field ofChild
Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers ExecutiveSenior
Research Associates"? I think so!!! I also think it makes
Aunts"Associate Research Assistants."
make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field ofChild
Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers ExecutiveSenior
Research Associates"? I think so!!! I also think it makes
Aunts"Associate Research Assistants."
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0
Punce, a si bomo dale kakšne titule na vrata naših domov?
