Tag Archives: Jewish

Happy Mother’s Day?

4 May

In honor of Mother’s Day, I wanted to discuss something that has irked me since reading Bread Givers and something that each reading has almost unilaterally reinforced. For a while now, authors have touched upon racial and ethnic stereotypes of motherhood. While as demeaning as those stereotypes are, the authors have recognized (but often skirted around) a larger truth, a more troubling truth—that of the mother-blame game.

Why do we tend to blame the mothers, our mothers?

For instance, in Jacobsen’s Roots Too, he pairs Jewish identity and sexuality through the lens of psychoanalysis of the Jewish mother. Using Philip Roth’s Portnoy’s Complaint and Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying, Jacobsen charts what it meant to come to terms with “Jewishness” and that it often began retrospectively, looking back and blaming the Jewish mother. This stereotypical Jewish mother, the overbearing, nagging, and suffocating woman, became so feared that she remained “the most powerful negative icon for a rising generation of Jewish feminists.”[1] This idea is also found later in the book. The domineering Irish mother is present, so, too, is the self-sacrificing, possessive Italian mother. Even if no formal complaint is brought against them, the reader draws their own conclusions based on the stereotypical descriptions provided.[2]

Yet, this concept is not new nor is it ethnic/race specific. In Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow, Jones recounts how the Moynihan report on The Negro Family adversely affected opinions of Black mothers. Attacking these Black matriarchs, Moynihan concluded that the tendency for overbearing, emasculating Black mothers was destroying what was left of the Black family. Even those fathers who abandoned their families were excused because of this “type” of Black women.[3] Add the welfare queen and single mother stereotype and Black women receive a toxic mix.

There is also the White stereotype of motherhood, documented in Personal Politics by Sara Evans. A tranquil, fountain of nourishment, the White mother was stereotyped as self-sacrificing, naturally-gifted mother who would not only raise good Americans but also look good doing so. She was the ultimate bored housewife.[4] As further readings and our discussions suggested, these stereotypes were the exception rather than the rule. But, I think it is striking that each culture adapted this “bad mother” stereotype and, while making it their own, shared remarkable similarities. All were emasculating, domineering, self-sacrificing, toxically nurturing, identity suffocating smothering, and impeccably flawed mothers. In the end, the root cause for all problems were on the shoulders of the mothers.

I do not mean to trivialize the “daddy problem” or suggest that it does not exist—I simply am going off what the readings provide which are purely problems of motherhood. In the readings, even when fathers are deemed irresponsible and absentee, it is because his wife, the mother, made him that way.[5] These phenomenons go further than needing to blame someone or blame a woman; it is as if it has become a multicultural mainstay and tradition to hold mothers completely culpable for the ills of their society.

Why is the need to blame mothers so persuasive throughout cultures? Why does the mother receive all of our blame, all of our ire? Is it purely because of gender reasons or are there larger, shared connections that span the spectrum of class and race?


[1] Matthew Frye Jacobson, Roots Too: White Ethnic Revival in Post-Civil Rights America (Harvard University Press, 2008), 154.

[2] Ibid., 139 and 146.

[3] Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow (Basic Books, 2009), 258-60.

[4] Sara Evans, Personal Politics: The Roots of Women’s Liberation in the Civil Rights Movement & the New Left (Vintage, 1980), 14.

[5] Jones, Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow, 260.

A Call for Empathy

26 Feb

The Huffington Post is a favorite blog of mine, so when in the course of my surfing I ran across Jeffrey Kaye’s February 25th article, “Short Memories: Jews and Immigration,” I thought it was a really timely post given last week’s discussion.

Kaye’s thesis is simple but hardly without controversy, “that the Jewish immigration experience over the past century has more in common with present-day migrants than many Jews recognize or fully appreciate,” and that his fellow American Jews “would do well to draw a lesson from our own history and resist the temptation to scapegoat and demonize those whose crimes consist mainly of crossing political boundaries in search of better lives.” [1]

(more…)

Sara Smolinsky v. Rebecca Rubin

24 Feb

“When you choose an American Girl doll, you’ll discover a new world of imagination. That’s because each character stars in unique stories of courage, loyalty, compassion, and leadership. Learn how the challenges and joys of growing up in another era still relate to girls in 2010. Explore books and products developed to encourage play and creativity. And, find inspiration in the stories that celebrate girls and all that they can be.” [1]

When I arrived home this week I noticed several American Girl doll catalogs laying around and decided to peruse the bright, cheery images of the latest in doll fashions.  I grew up during the first generation of American Girl dolls, when there were only three to choose from.  Now, the company offers eight different signature dolls that represent America from 1764 to 1974.  All of the signature dolls have side-kick friends and then there are the customized dolls with their pets and accessories, providing almost infinite options for the young female consumer. 

I was immediately struck by the Rebecca Rubin doll and some similarities to Bread Giver’s Sara Smolinksy.  She represents the year 1914, after her family made the “long journey from Russia to Ellis Island.”  Rebecca lives in a New York City apartment with three generations of her family, enjoys “observing the Sabbath with her extended Jewish family,” wants to become a successful independent woman, and has discovered that “it’s possible to honor family traditions and celebrate what it means to be an American.” [2]

That’s pretty much where the similarities end though.  While Sara lived a life of hardships and struggles, Rebecca appears fresh-faced, with a lovely herringbone dress and a beautiful scarf and gold barrette.  Rebecca has fun adventures and enjoys playing dress up, unlike Sara who sold herring on the streets and was working in a garment factory ten hours a day.  Rebecca seems to have no problems or conflicts fitting in with her new American surrounding while staying connected and true to her old world traditions. 

Our discussion in class about how to communicate complex social issues to children also came back to me as I was looking through the American Girl catalog.  I could not help but notice that the company has marketed specific dolls to certain time periods.  Kaya, an “adventurous” girl of the Nez Perce, represents 1764.  Addy Walker, a “courageous” African American girl, represents 1864. And then of course, there is Rebecca in 1914 New York City. [3]  Is this a good way to impart American social history on young girls today?  Or is this just a sugar coated gimmick to sell expensive dolls and high end consumerism?  Is it irresponsible of the company to ignore the real complexities of the time periods in which their fictional characters were living?  Or are the American Girl dolls a positive gateway for young girls to further investigate the realities of these represented time periods?

[1] American Girl, March 2010 catalog, page 2.

[2] American Girl, March 2010 catalog, page 36-37.

[3] American Girl, January 2010 catalog, page 2-3.

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