THE SELFLESS MOTHER

Evening Star, Issue 22228, 4 January 1936, Page 2

THE SELFLESS MOTHER

[Written by Mary Scott, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] “ She is the most devoted and unselfish mother—never thinks of anything but her children.” Have you heard that extolled as a virtue? It is not an uncommon one; when all else fails, you can usually say that about a woman, and it appeals to the average listener. Mothers are supposed to be devoted; the less obtrusive qualities of the doormat are popularly deemed becoming to maternity. Their children, their husbands, and their homes should fill their lives; what else could any reasonable woman want? If she remains tepidly content within this sphere she is what a certain type of critic—and not always a male one—applauds as “ a reallv womanly woman.” As a matter of fact, there is nothing very admirable in selfless maternity if it be only a blind alley. Animals are notoriously maternal, even more relentlessly so than women; always, of course, with this difference, that the beast cayes for its young usually only while it is helpless; once it is able to fight its way in a predatory world the maternal interest wanes and soon disappears. The human mother, on the other hand, usually endures till the end. Yet there is a certain and primitive type of woman who invariably prefers her children in their infancy. She likes them to bo dependent upon her alone, entirely and unquestionably hers. How often you hear a mother say; “ The happiest time in my life was when the children were small; they were all mine then.” This is affection of the most primitive, instinctive type, which grows less ardent as the children develop wills and personalities of their own. “ They don’t need me so much now,” she wails, or “ they never criticised me when they were small; they simply adored me then ” —as if a critical affection were not far the more valuable. Yet it is easier for the world to jeer at this type of affection than to do without it, for it is to it that we are largely indebted for the reproduction of the race and the care of the young. The pity of it is that it is so limited, that, instead of broadening and sweetening the outlook and nature of the lover, it too often stultifies it. The type of woman who is blindly, fiercely maternal and confines her spiritual energies to this outlet, is seldom an unselfish friend or a good citizen, a broad-flowing river of kindness l and charity. The spring of her affections has been confined within walls of such impenetrable rock that it has cut itself a deep groove, narrowed its stream to a single, fathomless channel instead of spreading far and wide to bring joy and fertility to many lands. So deep and narrow is the gorge of its passing that the sun cannot penetrate its gloom nor warm the water to brightness and beauty; it flows, dark, silent, fierce, carrying destruction rather than life in its course.

The unfortunate thing about this possessive, concentrated parental affection is that it brines happiness to no one. How can it, for it is selfish in its very essence, and selfishness never yet made anyone anything but miserable. That is the great mistake these “selfless” mothers make; they imagine they are devoting themselves to- their children’s good. As a matter of fact, they are handicapping them from the' very start, laying up a store of misery for themselves, the objects of their love, and any other innocent creaas daughters-in-law, for example—who will be left ultimately to grapple with the result of their selfish indulgence. For that is all that this obsessing maternity means—a wicked and harmful self-indulgence. It is such nonsense for these devoted parents to pretend that they are being unselfish; beneath this pose of self-sacrifice they are simply viciously indulging thpmselves. I would admire them more if they would have the courage to say frankly, “ I spoil my - children because I enjoy doing it; I am not quite a fool, therefore I know that it is bad for them, but I don’t care. I’m a selfish woman and I mean to enjoy myself.” Admit that, and it would take a plucky parent to continue in a course so wrong-headed. Fortunately the primitive type of parent is dying out. Women have too many interests nowadays to concentrate upon their children—luckily for the children. For it is a_ sad but inevitable truth that the nicest children are not those of the selfless mothers. Therefore all these modern interests which some are still found to deplore—wage-earning, individuality_ of thought and expression, economics, reading, beauty culture, bridge—are certainly to the good of the next generation. Freed from the devoted mother they will be able to grow up independent, self-respecting, original, at liberty to make mistakes and rue them, to try dangerous experiments and win salvation from them.

They saj* that the world is run for children nowadays, hut in reality the mother gains as much as the child. Plunket societies, dental clinics, welfare societies, sunshine leagues, medical inspection, free education, free libraries, innumerable playing areas—if these are the salvation of the _ child they are certainly the emancipation of the parent. The State knows its duty to the future citizen, and is perfectly willing to bring up your child for you if you are incompetent or selfish. This is excellent for the child, but very bad for the parent, for spoon-feeding may sap a parent’s morale just as much as a child’s; the only difference is that at least the parent has the remedy within its reach; it need not depend upon the State; the child cannot escape the octopus-like care of a possessive parent until it is too late. To me the spectacle of a parentobsessed child is almost as tragic as that of a neglected one. As 1 have said, the neglected child has always the State behind it; _ moreover, it enjoys certain compensations; its legs may be rickety, but its character is sturdy and independent; its diet may be illbalanced, but its thoughts and actions are free; its face may be dirty and its body ill-clothed ; but it enjoys a spirit of camaraderie with other children, and quickly learns the greatest of all lessons—to give and take. The state of the physically neglected child is deplorable, but fortunately there are recognised remedies to help it; the poor little creature that is wrapped around by a suffocating love may be the idea! of every baby clinic—though, strangely enough, it very seldom is—but mentally and morally it suffers from a cruel malnutrition. And there is no one to save it; on the contrary, the world says, “ What a lucky child to have such a devoted mother; that woman lives for her children.” This selfishness for two is an insidious thing, for it masquerades as devotion and unselfishness, whereas in reality in sacrificing herself—and incidentally the rest of the world—for her beloved she is merely _ indulging her own instincts and passions. In denying all others the love and kindliness which is their due, in heaping it upon one solitary object—or even two or three —she is merely harming the be-