Something of great importance to me happened two nights ago

Jennifer is hosting Write on Wednesdays this week and our prompt is a line (above) from Alex Miller's "Autumn Laing". So the challenge is "Set your timer for 5 minutes or write about 500 words. If you’re looking for specific feedback, please let us know. Otherwise – enjoy the writing."

I've done a 5 minute flow of consciousness, not quite sure where it came from!

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to grow up not knowing the truth about your mother? When you are a shiny smily child you believe that you do know all about her, that she is an angel in heaven (well that is what they told you). But then, when the adults deem the time is right, they tell you their new version of the truth. This, of course, is only their perception, the story that fits best with the reality they live with, the truth that they believe to be the right thing to say. What do you say to a teen who thinks their mother is dead?

“Your mother had some problems”, they said, “she was never the same after what happened, she just couldn’t cope, so she went away”. It never really gelled, it never fitted the photos, the smiling face gazing at a babe in arms.

And then the years of wondering, the watching of faces in crowds for a glimmer of familiarity. Somehow I thought I would “ just know” when she was near me, but that feeling never came. With the arrival of my own child, her absence was more acute, more poignant and more painful. How to be a mother-less mother?

And then, just two nights ago, there was a knock at my door.

Nineteen

I'm still going with trying to link my pieces into an ongoing story starting with Sacrifice , then Secrets  and next...

Nineteen

She’d  been in labour for 16 hours and had tried her  best to relax and go with the flow, but the agony in her back was unrelenting, even when the contractions relaxed. The knowledgeable ones had stolen concerned glances at the tracings of her baby’s heart beat and with the rustle of a white coat, a decision was made. Nineteen was the last number she remembered counting before she slid under the heavy influence of the anaesthetic, like an exhausted sailor unable to keep himself afloat.  As Ella slowly drifted to the surface of her awareness, she could hear a baby’s snuffle and mewl as she groggily opened her eyes.  She watched her mother next to her, entranced and counting tiny digits, “my darling, she’s so perfect, so just like you”.

photo from http://curiousphotos.blogspot.com

Sacrifice

Link here to Lillie's blog to participate!! Five Sentence fiction
What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

This week’s inspiration word is: SACRIFICE

Ella sat at home alone, eyes fixed forward and her mottled skin lit up by the screen she faced. She scrolled through the pictures of longhaired girls in formal dresses, pink black blue, towering heels, on arms of pock faced laughing boys. A tear slid the length of her cheek as her blurred eyes read through the comments, the tags, the joy and the fun. As she straightened her spine, sighed and awkwardly stood , she told herself again  – my life will be different. She caught her breath as she felt the kick inside and instinctively cradled her belly – yes, I have made my choice.

Bring me a cup of sunshine...

Write On Wednesdays Exercise 19 - Sunshine in a cup. Write the words of Emily Dickinson: "Bring me sunshine in a cup" at the top of your page. Set a timer for 5 minutes. Write the first words that come into your head after the prompt. Don't take you pen off the page (or fingers off the keyboard). Stop only when the buzzer rings! Do this exercise over and over if you wish. Write beyond 5 minutes if you like, you can link it up as an extra post.

This is the first time I've really tried to stick to the time, to let the thoughts flow rather than concentrate on structure and grammar.

She runs on soft tippy toes through the grass.

‘Mummy, come and play with me!”

Bounding into her playhouse she giggles at a private internal joke.

“Come and play, come and play!”

I watch her sunstreaked hair, shiny, her cut still ruined by her last week’s effort with her scissors. Full of life, full of energy, full of ideas, they tumble out of her as rapidly as the speech from her mouth.

“Mummy come play, I’ll make you a picnic”

"What shall we eat my sweet?", I say

“Sandwiches of course, my mummy”

“What will we drink?”

She holds out pudgy hands and tips her buttercup face to me “for you, a cup of sunshine”

What we allow is what we approve*

In the quiet of a rainy Sunday morning before the troops arise, I’m enjoying time with my Mac trawling the net for nothing in particular (as you do).

But I’m stopped dead by a photo. Suri Cruise, running on the beach with Katie, in “her signature high heels”.  No, not Katie in heels, her daughter, Suri. How old is this child, 5? Maybe she just came from a special birthday party…but her mum’s in shorts and a T? What is this? I read further and find this part of her shoe collection worth “$150,000”.

So should I be surprised, they’re celebs, of course? And little girls have always wanted to wear heels (usually their mother’s) but on the beach? So then I threw the whole dilemma into Google, and guess what? This is not just a one off; she’s been doing it for years – Suri in golden high heels in 2009, aged 3 on slippery New York pavements etc etc. Yes I know the heels are ‘only” a few inches…..

So then to the debates on various sites. If we put aside the argument that this is a one-off, and in fact it is regular garb, lets see what the comments are. “Child abuse“ rant some, “get a life, what’s wrong with girls being princesses”, “if they like them, why shouldn’t they wear them” say others. The risk of injury and later orthopaedic problems is pointed out.

But the question I have, is - why are tiny shoes made with high-heels for everyday wear?  How come you can buy them? A bit like the infamous padded bras in (children’s) size 6 so little girls could have breasts like Mummy. HUH? Why can retailers manufacture and market these things?

So girls, why do we grown-ups wear high heels (though I confess I do not because they kill my feet and I fall over)?  In principle, I guess it’s to feel confident and sexy and to enhance height, leg shape and physical appeal to others (based on an ideal of….?). So why are we allowing this to be applied to little girls?  Surely this approach is at best foolish and at worst exploitative. Julie Gale, founder of Kids Free 2 B Kids clearly describes the problem here .

Collective Shout asks the question, “will we let children be children in Australia?” and cites a British six-month independent review into the commercialisation and sexualisation of childhood, commissioned by PM David Cameron. This review called for, amongst other things, retailers to offer age-appropriate clothes for children. The British Retail consortium has published good practice guidelines as a way forward for industry. 

Australia had a senate enquiry in 2008, which released recommendations to the media and marketing/retail industry, but a promised 18 month review has not happened. Do have a look at the above organisations and sign up to their good work if you agree. Novelactivist has a dissenting view, interesting to ponder, though there’s a few too many big words in there for me.

Little girls have so many expectations to conform to, let’s at least let them develop a rudimentary sense of their child-self (and I acknowledge that “dress-ups” in imaginative play is part of this) before they normalise adult sexual dress and behaviour. And before anyone says it, no, I'm not telling anyone what to do, just asking for a little thought.

* Dr Glen Cupit, Senior Lecturer in Child
Development, University of South Australia. Quoted here