As women, mothers especially, we tend to apologize a lot. For our children. For our messy home. For our untidy hair. We even apologize on our voice mail greeting (“Sorry I’m unable to take your call right now…”). We tackle conflict with an apologetic tone instead of a confident demeanor. We diminish our argument before we even get started and then mope and apologize some more (“Sorry for taking up your time…”). I have become more self deprecating since motherhood, and my former unabashed confidence has waned. Somehow the mantle of motherhood has weakened me.
One fiery, impassioned speech at Mom Congress shifted my attitude completely. NEA VP Lily Eskelsen told us to first and foremost, never apologize for being an advocate for our children. She stressed to never begin a sentence with “I’m just a mom, but…” She told us to stop using our inside voices. Oh, how I have taken that to heart. Lily Eskelsen might have contributed to creating the accidental activist I have become. There is power in motherhood, but that little word “just” deflates it immediately.
Participating in Mom Congress opened up opportunities for me to speak and share stories of social justice, poverty, childhood hunger, vaccinations, and test mania. I even got to go to Uganda with the UN Foundation’s Shot@Life team, whom I first encountered at Mom Congress this year. To say it was life changing would be painfully cliche, yet there’s no other way to put it. Being in Uganda among mothers who share the hearts of their children as I do mine was moving, inspirational, eye opening, and humbling. Motherhood brings its own riches, despite one’s station in life.
And Lily Eskelsen’s words have given power to my voice. I’m not “just” a mother.
I am a mother. Dammit.