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“Why Can't a Mother Think That? (Anne, Pt. 1)”

Tasha: Anne wasn’t someone who imagined having kids. It wasn’t part of her script.

Anne: I actually was quite sure that wasn’t what was going to happen.

Tasha: Until one day, a feeling struck–she remembers the exact day, exact moment–

Anne: I was heading up stairs and I stopped midway up the stairs and I was like, HUH. I would like to have a child. It was like that word broodiness, like a chicken? I don't know. That was like, I gotta go sit right now.

Tasha: She told her husband. and less than a year later, she gave birth. To a daughter.

Anne: I do remember being absolutely just blown away with the level of love.

Tasha: Motherhood still didn’t feel obvious or easy for Anne day to day, but soon, that broody feeling came over her again. She had two more kids:

Anne: It was, it was almost as if I knew that these, these three human beings needed to come into my life.

Tasha: As a mom, Anne clung to routine. Bring the kids to school, make their dinners, clean up, repeat. The routine went on. Fourteen years into being a mother, Anne was miserable–she felt trapped in her marriage and she started asking herself these questions…

Anne: When had I been a happy person? When had I been, when had I been me?

[Theme music beginning]

Tasha: She had no idea where to look for those answers–she couldn’t go back in time, didn’t really want to, but she couldn’t see a way forward either.

Then, she had this idea. An idea too scary to say out loud.

Anne: The thought itself was just so…terrifying to think it; what would come next wasn't even on my radar.

Can you imagine leaving your child? No, of course not. Because none of us do. Nor did I until four days before I did it.

[Theme music chorus hits]

Tasha: This is Mother is a Question. I'm Tasha

Julia: And I'm Julia. Tasha and I have been best friends—telling each other things we'd never tell another soul, since we were 14.

Tasha: Now we're both raising little humans, mothering, and asking:

Julia: What is a mother? And all things answer.

[Music swells, dances, fades down during snaps and under our hellos]

Tasha: Hi Julesie

Julia: Hi!

{Music totally out]

Tasha: Jules, there’s this book that my two-year old keeps asking me to read him lately. Especially–this is true–especially since we started work on Season 2 of Mother is a Question.

Julia: laughs

Tasha: The book is called

EO: Mama always comes home?

Tasha: Mama Always Comes Home.

Tasha: say it one more time?

EO: Mama Always Comes Home.

Tasha: Do you know this one?

Julia: You know I don’t know that one, but I remember needing to reassure my oldest daughter of that all the time when she was little. Any book that had a missing parent or lost child searching for a parent was beyond stressful for her. we’d have to stop reading.

Tasha: Well yeah, so the idea of the book is that moms - moms of all kinds like birds and rabbits and people – may have to go away to take care of some things, but there is a universal truth that while mamas may have to leave from time to time–to find worms in the ground or go to the office, she’ll always come back.

Julia: It makes sense to want to comfort kids with that, but I’ve always been tentative to say it out loud– the “always” part. because… what if the parents don’t.

Tasha: Well, that leads me to an email we got from a listener at the end of our last season, just after Julia gave birth to her third child!

Julia: Yeah, such a remarkable email to get right then.

Tasha: From a listener named Chloe Johnson:

Chloe: (reading her email into her phone) The reason I'm writing is because you said at the end of the first episode "crack open definitions and listen for the unspeakable."

Julia: Chloe felt like there was a story we weren’t telling.

Tasha: And she went on to tell us a bit about her own mother.

Chloe: It's normal for fathers to leave, but unspeakable for mothers.

Tasha: Chloe gave us her mom’s number and I called her up. Anne Lloyd. Anne told me she’d thought long and hard about whether she felt comfortable being public about her story– that she knew it was going to feel like–and these are her words–walking down the street butt naked.

Julia: She said what made her know she wanted to–was the idea that one mom listening might feel less alone after hearing it.

Tasha: I ended up interviewing Anne for hours. I couldn’t stop asking questions. The story just got bigger and bigger.

Julia: So, to open our second season of Mother Is A Question, we’re devoting the first two episodes to Anne’s story. Tash will be our guide.

Tasha: Anne lives in Virginia now. But–

[[Music–I tried two stems from PIZZ, lead violin and cello]]

Tasha: We'll start her story before she became a mother. She was in Munich Germany, early 1980s,

Anne: My hair was very long, very straight, very blonde.

Tasha: She had a boyfriend, he was fun and charismatic, and they’d pretty much spent the past three years in bars and at parties.

Anne: It was just a crazy three years. I mean, mostly we were drunk. And, you know, I'm in my early twenties, you know, what do I care?

Tasha: Anne describes herself as being in a kind of haze back then.

Anne: Just not really knowing what was going on. I didn’t know who I was without alcohol.

Tasha: And so when her parents proposed they open a pub together back in England, there may have been a part of her even then that knew it wasn’t the wisest idea. But a louder part of her just figured, why not?

[Music fades out?]

Anne: I really felt that in those, those years, that's when it became apparent that I just kind of just followed along.

Tasha: So she and her boyfriend moved to this small rural town, in England, and got married.

Anne says that haze she and her husband had been in--Anne was ready to come out of it when she got pregnant. She stopped drinking–but her husband didn’t. Which meant she started seeing him a little more clearly.

Anne: But I didn't know how to name it. I didn't know how to say…I didn't know what was wrong. I think, with hindsight like most alcoholics when they are sober they are delightful and the person you want to be around and then they drink and you don’t want to be around them.

Anne: The relationship was…hard? and I was confused by it.

Tasha: But she wasn’t confused about wanting to become a mother.

Anne: I loved being pregnant. I think I just latched onto that and focused completely on this child. I really don't think I thought about what happens afterwards.

Tasha: What were those first days of being a mother like?

Anne: Awful. It was awful.

Tasha: Anne gave birth in one of those old fashioned hospitals that you might see in, well, some old British movie–rows of beds, lines of curtains, staff rushing around. She had a really long, hard labor, and after three days, her daughter Verity, came into the world. Anne got this one drowsy moment to meet her–

Anne: and then she was whisked away…to the, baby unit to be monitored because she’d had a tough old time comin out too and they needed to check her. ‘Course they had to like, you know, put me back together and stitch me up.

Tasha: And through all of it, Anne was pretty much alone. Her mom came by the hospital once or twice, and her husband kept disappearing.

Anne: he was actually leaving the hospital. finding a bar and having a few drinks and then coming back.

Tasha: After a few hours of rest, in this big open room surrounded by all these other new moms in their beds, Anne sits up – the nurses are wheeling her baby back over to her.

Anne: And this baby is parked next to me. And I sat there and I was like, Well, I don't know what to do. And I didn't, and there was nobody there. And I was watching all these other women and, and everybody was so like scooping up their babies and, and I was like, how did they know how to do that?

Tasha: And this is the weird thing about motherhood, right? We’ve never done it before we do it, but it can feel like everybody else got the memo, took the class, is in on the thing, everybody but us.

Anne: and then the staff nurse came breezing down and poor little Verity is kind of sucking at the blanket, she’s lying face down, and she’s like your baby’s hungry. ‘oh, okay.’ and she’s like, do you know how to feed her? no.

Tasha: The nurse taught her how to breastfeed, how to change diapers. That’s part of the job for a nurse in the postpartum ward –to teach all the new moms this kind of stuff. But to Anne it felt like she was the only one who needed teaching.

Anne: When they released me from the hospital, bless their hearts, where they're like, okay, she's like, got it. The baby's getting fed. She knows how to change it. She's got a routine. It's all routine.

And nobody said that there should be a period of time between feed the baby, feed the baby, change the baby, make sure it's clean, put it down for sleep. That I should. Hold the baby. Love the baby. Like, I didn't know that was a thing. Which seems so bizarre.

Tasha: Anne says when she got home, she knew her life had changed forever–she was a mother now–but her husband hadn’t changed …he was still drinking–

Anne: Like now, now you don't do that anymore. Like stop drinking now. Like we're a family, I, we have this child. But I don't think I knew what was wrong still, and I definitely didn't know how to fix it, but I think I finally was aware that something was wrong.

[[Music starts CO LD]]

Tasha: So, Verity was born in 1985–

Anne: Verity from the beginning is very much little tomboy, wants to be outside. Ride her bicycles, run around, be outside, um, loves helping her dad when he's around. She wants to have, like, her own little hammer and screwdrivers

Tasha: Two years later, Elliot was born:

Anne: Very affectionate child. He was the child that when he arrived, wants me, and clings to me, and I’m okay with that.

Tasha: Two years after Elliot, came Chloe.

Anne: She's my emotional child, she's my, she was my moody child.

[Music fades out fully]

Tasha: Their dad, Anne’s husband, was away a lot for work over in Germany. And when he was home, he’d have stretches where he’d drink just a few beers a day, but then all of the sudden he’d disappear on a bender for a couple of days.

Anne says it was confusing–when her husband was there, they all ate dinner together, did the bedtime routines together. He could be goofy, charming, fun. The kids ran around and had a blast. They owned some land, had some horses and chickens…on the surface, she says, it looked normal. If you walked into their house you might not know anything was wrong in the family, or the marriage.

You might not even notice Anne, still feeling like she did when her first child was born–like all the other mothers knew something she didn’t–it hadn’t gone away. Anne would watch other moms and think they’re just better mothers. I’m doing it wrong.

Anne: I never, I never. I just felt like…I could never give myself permission that I was doing okay with it.

Tasha: Anne says that voice, started to spiral–the less confident she felt, the worse of a mother she was, the less confident she felt. Even her husband noticed: when he was functional, he’d suggest she just go into another room while he took care of the kids, which Anne says only made her feel worse.

On top of all this –living with someone who one day acts normal, but the next day disappears, or shows up drunk, it can make you feel crazy, or like you’re imagining things.

[Music starts: last half of DOPPELGANGERS]

Tasha: And then came her husband’s DUI, and what felt to Anne like a chance to finally give him an ultimatum: “You can stay. But you have to stop drinking!” He lasted two weeks.

Anne: I was like, you're done, get out. [[Music]] And he just looked at me and I was like, no, really, go pack your bags. You're done. Go away. I don't know what I'm going to do. Just go.

[couple of beats of music]]

Anne: as he drove away, I was like, yay, done it. I felt good. All right, let's move on.

[[music up. hangs. fades under, continues]]

Tasha: Her husband moved to his brother’s house. By now the kids were nine, seven, and five. Anne felt stronger, more sure of herself–taking college classes, getting more involved in town politics, working a job at a call center for people in crisis.

Anne: I remember just feeling so optimistic.

[[Music up and ends, naturally]]

Tasha: Then Anne got a phone call from her husband. He told her he’d had a nervous breakdown going cold turkey. And this part might sound familiar: Anne let him come home, but things didn’t get any better.

They got worse.

And the feelings Anne hadn’t been able to name, started to corrode.

Anne: Every bone in my body was exhausted. I couldn't, I couldn't–I'm trying to do all the things that you know that mothers do, provide food and provide home and all the places you go and go to the movies and it's a birthday and we do a party and, you know, I was baked the cakes and made novelty cakes and everything that you're supposed to do as a mother. And I was, I just felt with each day that it was like walking in thick mud.

Tasha:And through all this, Anne says she and Verity always had the hardest relationship. They argued a lot, sometimes–a lot of times–Anne would slap Verity across the face.

Anne: She had learned very early on to be wary of me. She was the child that from the beginning she took the brunt of my, of my angers and frustrations and pain.

Tasha: Stuck with her husband again, Anne’s confidence plummeted. A real nose-dive. And, the voices in her head grew louder.

Anne: I didn't want to admit that I was depressed. If it was depression and I admitted to it, then I failed in some way. I was just a big fat failure and I wasn't very good at motherhood and look what it did to me and everybody else was doing fine. And I didn't feel like I knew who to talk to.

Tasha: Eventually, Anne did talk to a doctor, who prescribed an antidepressant. It felt like she was waking up

And I started to see that I had become a person that I, I didn't want to be. I wasn't the mother that I wanted to be to these children. My children deserved a better mother. It can't be this.

Tasha: What could it be? She had no idea. No answers yet. Except one:

Anne: for the love of god Anne you need to divorce this man.

Tasha: So Anne gathered up her courage and told him.

Her husband didn’t put up a fight. Anne says the kids were a little sad but not surprised. But then the weird thing was:

Anne: we were still carrying on like this, like normal happy family.

Tasha: –still going to horseback riding lessons, eating meals together, visiting relatives. You know, the routine. Which was suddenly broken up by an invitation from a friend. “want to come on vacation? To America?” Anne was more than ready. She put the divorce on hold.

Anne: I think at that stage, you know, my mind, I'm like, okay, I'm going to go and have this nice little vacation. And when I come back, you're toast.

Tasha: And for the first time ever, without her husband or her kids, Anne took a vacation. Flew To Phoenix, Arizona, where she and her friend spent ten days lazing by the pool, eating big long dinners, driving around the desert…

Anne: It was just–Oh, I felt like I could breathe and, and laugh and I felt free. I wasn’t answerable to anyone. And I just remember feeling like I had a glimpse of who I was. I, I felt like I saw me. A, a, a, a, a person that I don't think I knew. She was happy and fun. and, and t he recognition that…when had I been a happy person?

[MUSIC starts to fade up – 2 Stems of LAMENT, Synth + Violin]

When had I been, when had I been me?

[violin stems begin, music continues alone and then through:]

Tasha: Anne remembers coming home from the airport. Three hours, highways turned into country roads, into winding lanes. She says it was a beautiful summer day, but everything felt small and grey. Her insides were constricting.

Anne: I didn't want to go that house. I didn't want to go to that, that life. I just felt like I was being pulled back into a darkness.

Tasha: As soon as she got back, Anne and her husband picked up with the divorce. But what becomes clear is: Divorce is only part of the solution to this darkness Anne is working through. It’s gonna help. But it won’t be enough.

Anne: I'm just going to be living in a house and then he's going to be in town, and this is a really small town, and I'm just still going to see this man every day …we might be divorced, but there’s gonna be no detachment. How do I get away?

Tasha: But what’s she supposed to do? The kids are 14, 12, and 10. They’re in school. They have friends, lives of their own. She doesn’t want to disrupt them and of course the kids are going to be with her after the divorce, that’s not a question–

[Music ends]

Anne: Well as a mother, this is what I'm supposed to do. It hasn't occurred to me that there is an option that doesn't involve the kids, like I love my children and I want to do right by them. I want to do the right thing. I'm desperate to do the right thing by them. So there's no way to process. All the, the scary thoughts that are, that are bubbling down below because you're not allowed to think those thoughts.

Tasha: She wasn’t allowed to think those thoughts.

[MUSIC-SYNTH STEM of LAMENT]

Tasha: But she did.

Anne: This overwhelming feeling of I can’t be there. I cannot be there.

[music ENDS]

Tasha: We’ll be right back.

+++MID ROLL?+++

Tasha: Anne banished her thoughts of leaving and fell back into routine. And deeper into the darkness. It got so bad, she couldn’t hide it from the kids anymore.

Anne: I don't want the kids to touch me now. It makes my skin prickle. Don't come near me.

Tasha: Meanwhile, Anne had kept the phone number of a guy she’d met back on her vacation in America. Steve. This sweet guy who was studying motorcycle mechanics in Phoenix and who she’d gone on a few dates with, shared a kiss with. Anne says he was kind, a good listener; she didn’t think much more of it.

[Music begins here]

Tasha: But one day she walked down the street to a payphone–she didn’t want her husband to know about Steve–dialed him up, and he answered. And this little phone booth becomes this place she can say things out loud she’s never let herself even think. They talked a few more times and one day, Steve, who’s now living in Wyoming, says, you can always come stay with me.

Anne: And I was like, well, that's lovely. But I mean, that's not exactly practical, is it? You know, and I just kind of laughed it off and. And it was just a very sweet thing that he said. But it sowed a seed because all of a sudden, the only way I can describe it to you was later, when I rethought about the conversation, it felt like this teeny tiny sliver of light was suddenly shining and I wondered if I should aim for it. But if I aimed for it, that did not involve my children.

[[Music naturally ends here]]

Anne: I had a very good friend who had been friends or many many years way back, she was actually a psychiatric nurse. And we always stayed in touch and I called her. I said I Need to talk to you. She's like, yeah, what's going on?

I said, I’ve had the most terrible thought–and you're the only person I can tell that I've had this most, I can't, I can't even believe I've thought this.

And she said, what are you thinking, Anne?

And I said, I'm thinking that I might have to leave my children. And, and I immediately went into like, I like, why would I think that? And she just very quietly said, Why can't you think that? And that's all she said. She wasn't like, Oh, you should, or what was it, or what's ha–She just said, Anne why can't you think that?

The kids had gone to school, I'd got them to school, and I had got a little part time job at a little bakery just down the road, like two minute walk from my house, if that, and I walked out the front door, and I started to walk down the street, and that's when the voice started to just scream at me: You gotta go, you gotta go, you gotta go, just go, just go, you can do it, just go, go, go, go. And that's all it said to me, was go, just go.

Anne: Everything was just running on emotion. there was no, and then this, well, what if I do that? nothing other than in this very second, how am I going to get to the next second? to the next minute, and then from that minute, that's, that's all I could, that's all I could do. I remember those days almost like I was watching myself.

Anne: I scared the crap out of Steve because I called him and I was like, I'm coming. And he was like, what?

[Music exclamation point idea, continues]

Tasha: Once she blurted it out to Steve, she plowed through everything she needed to do. First she told her brother and her parents–she wanted to be sure they’d help with the kids while she was gone. She says it was kind of weird:

Anne: Nobody fought with me.

Tasha: She told her soon-to-be ex husband.

Anne: And he also didn't argue!

Tasha: Her relationship with him had been awful, but she’d never seen that cross over to the kids. She says he was a loving, even adoring father, and a lot more fun than her. She also knew a lot of rules were about to go out the window.

Anne went up to her room to pack -- and to a room she knew she'd never set foot in again -- and she stuffed a duffle bag with a few pieces of clothes, her passport, and a box of tea.

Then it was time to tell the kids.

Anne: I was trying to say it in a very honest but simplistic way that they could absorb.

Tasha: Verity was 14. Elliot was 12. Chloe was 10.

Anne: I sat them down and I said, you know that, you know, mom and daddy are going to get a divorce, you know that's happening. They're like, yes. And I said, I need to go away for a little bit.

I need to go and see. How did I say it? I remember trying to explain that. It was like I had seen a chance of something and I needed to go and check it out. That I would be coming back and that I would tell them everything that I was doing and when I was doing it and when I would be coming back and that they would be hearing from me.

Tasha: Anne says Elliot stayed quiet, then asked if he could go watch TV. She says she maybe remembers the girls crying a little. She remembers hugging all three of them.

Anne: But our relationship in those last couple of months had been so prickly. They probably didn't expect any more from me.

Tasha: Anne couldn’t tell her kids exactly for sure when she’d be back–she didn’t know yet. Her plane ticket had her returning in 90 days, the longest she could stay in the US without a visa.

But Anne says she knew there was a chance she’d get on the plane and miss her kids so desperately, be so worried, or realize she was crazy, and she’d fly back a lot sooner. But either way – in a week or in three months, no matter how long it was – Anne knew she would see her kids again.

[MUSIC–Full mix of LAMENT starts]

Tasha: She said goodbye to them. Then watched them hop into their dad’s car.

Anne: And I remember as they drove away that dual emotion, the relief that he was leaving, but the, the, the ache in my heart that they were leaving.

Tasha: That night, Anne’s brother insisted: She needed to see her parents one more time. She thought maybe he was hoping they would talk her out of leaving. But they didn’t. Instead, her mom didn’t say anything, got up from the table, and walked away.

Anne: And my father did manage to kind of, in his awkward way, give me a hug and he said, Do you know what you're doing? And I said, not really, but I'm going.

Tasha: In the middle of the night, her brother dropped her at the airport and Anne got on a plane. It was November, 1999. She was about to turn 40. This time she wasn’t going on a vacation–she didn’t know what it was yet.

Anne: I just knew it was what I was supposed to be doing. Even if I had to come back a week later with my tail between my legs and it was nothing but I was not gonna miss this opportunity.

Tasha: The plane took off, Anne’s life below receded into a bunch of little dots.

[MUSIC NATURALLY ENDS]

Tasha: Hours later, The plane touched down in the US as the sun rose. But her trip wasn’t over yet—Anne had to transfer planes. Steve lived in a tiny, remote town in Wyoming. Anne had to take an 8-seater to get there.

Anne: That's when panic set in, as in, where the hell am I going? Who is this man? I might've talked to, I mean, He could be an axe murderer. What on earth do I think I'm going to do when they get, okay, make sure you know where the airport is. I just remember the panic starting to well? And then I was so exhausted that I actually passed out and fell asleep.

[THEME STARTS]

Tasha: While Anne was off the follow that sliver of light in Wyoming, ten year old Chloe was home. Writing in her diary.

Chloe’s DIARY: I miss mom so much, and it's so hard when I see people all happy with their moms. Especially if I see families all happy together, because I know I'll never be like that.

Tasha: That’s next time on Mother is a Question.

Tasha: This episode of Mother is a Question was produced by me, I’m Natasha Haverty

Julia: and I’m Julia Metzger Traber. Rob Rosenthal is our editor

Tasha: The rest of our team is Genevieve Sponsler, Sandra Lopez Monsalve, Emmanuel Desarme, and Courtney Fleurantin

Julia: Our music is by Raky Sastri and Julia Read

Tasha: Mother is a Question is part of the Big Questions Project at PRX, and supported by the John Templeton Foundation

[Music swells dances, fades down]

MOTHER IS A QUESTION - EPISODE ONE: WHAT IS UNTEACHABLE ABOUT MOTHERING?

Teouria: So to me, it is a dance,

(MUSIC BEGINS)

of caring for other people, guiding other people who happen to be your children. And sometimes you can mother people who aren't your children. You can mother other women your same age. But, it's just a constant guidance, a constant struggle over who's right and who's wrong. A constant caring-for, teaching. In the hopes that you can send them out on their own and that they can make it in the world and become who they want to be.

(MUSIC UP)

Tasha: This is the first episode of Mother is a Question. I’m Tasha Haverty.

Julia: And I’m Julia Metzger-Traber. Tasha and I have been best friends, and learning from each other since before we got our periods.

Now, we’re both raising tiny humans- mothering–on the precipice of a tectonically shifting culture.

What is a mother, we ask?

And everything answers.

(MUSIC UP, SWELL)

Tasha: Jules, I remember when I was pregnant, I found myself wanting to do research. I wanted to be ready for it all.

Julia: I couldn’t even wrap my head around anything beyond the birth!

Tasha: Right, how can we. And now that I’m a mother, I feel like there are things you can teach, and prepare for, like ways to carry your baby or tools for how you might be able to help them to sleep–maybe. Then there are the things that might actually be universal, but there is really no preparation for. anyone who mothers will have to face and move through some kind of real pain-- whether it’s giving birth, or seeing your children suffer, or maybe being separated from them... how do you prepare for that? How do you teach that?

Julia: There’s no way, there’s now way to know it until you live it. but of course we still try.

Tasha: So I wanna tell you about someone I met ten years ago who was actually a teacher of motherhood. She worked with women who were pregnant, on the verge of becoming mothers, or women who had just had their babies.

Teouria: The way that I feel like I want to be known is as someone who is inspiring.

(MUSIC STARTS, CONTINUES)

Tasha: She introduced herself to me as T. Her name is Teourialier Johnson.

Teouria: That, you know, when you speak to me, it's how you feel like it's a heartfelt conversation. You feel like you are, um, being listened to, but also that you're given little nuggets of wisdom that you could take on and that can transform your life in some kind of way, even if it's a small thing.

Tasha: The day we met, ten years ago, I only got to talk to T for fifteen minutes. And honestly, her wisdom didn’t really feel of use to me at the time–I wasn’t a mother and had no real plans to be one. But for reasons that we’ll get into, our conversation–though very brief, has haunted me. I’ve thought about our conversation so many times throughout the years, and all the things I wish I’d been able to ask T. Especially now that I’m a mother.

So this past August, I found her again.

Turns out, T now lives about 6 hours from me, outside Buffalo New York. So I drove to meet her. She invited me into her apartment. And I started by asking her to describe herself.

Teouria: I’m this brown girl (laughs) with this curly hair, long nails, bright smile, and warm eyes. (Tash: That was really good! Tasha and Teouria laugh) I don't know, the first word that comes to mind is scared! Even tho I want to be inspiring, I’m a scary little person. (Tasha: You’re scared?) Most times yeah. (Tasha: Really? Like as you walk through the world?) Yeah. Like scared. I'm not gonna make it scared. I'm not gonna, um, make my mom proud or scared that I'm gonna let my kids down or, you know, scared that I'm not gonna be able to provide.

Tasha: Can you tell me about the classes in mothering that you taught?

Teouria: I think what was the most interesting about the classes was the, um, Emotional aspect of it. It wasn't just, oh, month one, you should feel this, or month two, this is what's happening with your baby.

It was, um, a check-in with what's going on with you. How do you feel about being a parent? Is this your first time being a parent? things like that. Basic Classes on how to groom the baby, how to bathe the baby, how to bond with the baby. So say for instance, we might have had a mother who was suffering from depression, I would, um, stay with her in the room with the baby and kind of like navigate the bond between them two, and try to help her, um, engage with the baby more.

Tasha: how much was it coming from within versus stuff you were reading or observing in other women? You know, where did that come from, that knowledge?

Teouria: Well a lot of it came from stuff that I did not know. I'm like, oh my God, I totally botched this. Nobody told me I was supposed to do it this way. Like when my daughter, when I fed her, I fed her stuff that I liked. Oh, I like sweet potatoes. I'm gonna give her sweet potatoes.Then when she didn’t eat the carrots, duh, I gave her the sweet stuff first.

So first I was intrigued about, oh my goodness, what else didn't I know and what can I learn now so that I help other people do it in a way that is better for the baby. And then some of it was just, stuff that I was missing that I wanted to be able to teach my children when they had their children.

[Mux: SON_AFRO_0243_01001_Above_The_Storm_APM-02]

(MUSIC UP, CONTINUES THROUGH THIS NARRATION SECTION)

Tasha: When T says it was stuff that she was missing–she means missing in the deepest way you can imagine. Because, when I met T, she was trying desperately to hold on to her motherhood. She was teaching these classes inside a maximum security prison, and it wasn’t just her students that were incarcerated there, she was living out a 17-year-sentence.

And that gets me to one of the big reasons our conversation has haunted me, and why it felt so unsatisfying. I was there as a journalist, reporting on the Bedford Hills Prison nursery–which was the first prison nursery in the country and serves as a model for a way to keep a select group of moms with their babies in prison, at least for a year–but it also had some questionable practices I was looking into – anyway, at the end of my visit, the media relations guy from the department of corrections brought me to this room, where T was sitting…

Tasha from old interview: Okay. Um can you introduce yourself?

Teouria from old interview: Okay my name is Teourialier Johnson and I’m 31 and I don’t know what else you would like from me!

Tasha: …And told us we had 15 minutes. T was so generous with the facts of her life, and her experience–like the fact that when she got locked up, she’d given birth to her son just a month before, and also had a four-year-old daughter.

Tasha from old interview:…So what do you use your time to do?

Teouria from old interview: Well I think it’s a very fulfilling role…

Tasha: But T wasn’t one of the moms who got to stay with her babies. Her children were at home and she was here.

Teouria from old conversation: .,..They write, we have a very close relationship regardless of the situation but I feel like…

Tasha: So to share that all with me, this stranger, and working in a job where she was holding other mother’s babies…as I got ushered out by this guy from the prison administration I just felt sick to my stomach. I wished I had found a way to tell him to give us more space, and more time.

Ten years later, T’s home. She got out of prison a couple years ago, and I'm sitting on her couch.

Tasha: So when we met, you told me that your son was a month old when you went in, so just to like talk about the hardest parts there of when you walked into the nursery, you're seeing these babies that are his age.

Teouria: Hmmhmm. Um, So I think the connection was with a lot of the mothers is that my baby is the same age and while I'm separated from my baby, you're here with your baby and how can we make it so that you can be there with your baby long term. You don't have to be at my predicament, you can learn from me and do something different.

So sometimes, They would be going home with their baby. And then sometimes some mothers will have a longer stay, so the conversation become even more in depth of how do you mother from a distance.

Tasha: How does it feel talking about, for example, when you went in and your son was a month old, Now that you're home? is it any easier to be asked about this stuff?

Teouria: No, I'm like, it is not easier, um, because it still kicks up the same, um, emotions about all of the stuff that I missed. Um, my son was a month, but my daughter was just four starting school, um, it's never a easy conversation.

Tasha: Does it feel okay to talk about it?

Teouria: Yeah. It's, to me, I will always wanna talk about it because I want people to learn from the experience or people who are in the, uh, experience to be able to have somebody to identify with.

Tasha: When T got sent away, the first prison she went to was not Bedford Hills, the prison with the nursery–she got transferred there a little later. So at that point even trying to keep her son with her wasn’t an option. But by the time I met T, eight years into her sentence, she told me that getting to teach and be part of the prison nursery program had actually saved her life.

Tasha: What about you was it that was called to be a teacher in that way? Like what was it about you that felt like, yeah, this is what I wanna do?

Teouria: So who thinks of a nursery inside of a prison? But the college office was right next door, and so one day I was walking to go to the college office and I actually peeked in there and I seen the swing that I had from my own son. And so at first I come immediately started crying. I'm like, oh my God, this is terrible.

It brought back memories of a life that I could no longer be a part of. But then as I kept walking back and forth, I'm like, maybe I should try to see if I can get a job in there. And I actually did, and I loved it. But um, it wasn't just typically typical babysitting, like we were being taught how to interact with the baby.

There were activities that we had to do, we had to set up the corral in a way that encouraged child development. And so it got my mind working. Like I had already had two children, but I hadn't experienced it this intense in this way. And so being that I had experienced it in a new light, then I started being more engaged with childcare and then they thought I would be a good candidate to teach the prenatal classes.

So it was a tough situation because we were in a nursery setting. I kind of understood a little bit more because not only did you just have a baby, you're not around family. You're locked up and you're expected to be a great mother when you necessarily don't feel even great about yourself. So the whole interaction was a trying one because me and the mother were different ethnicities.

And not that that matters to me, you know, in the bigger scheme of things. How do I reach her where she's at when we come from totally different backgrounds? Um, I could be seen as a threat. Like, you're coming in and tell me how to mother, you're in prison yourself. And you know, no one understands my situation. They're all judging me. So in this moment, only thing that I could do is use my other hat. And my other hat is that I've always had a passion for doing hair.

And to me, when a woman feels good about herself, then she could feel good about other things. And so here I am trying to navigate, but without feeling like I'm, oh, let me hold the baby. you know, like interjecting in a way that could seem threatening. Instead, I said, let me do your hair. And so I do her hair and she starts feeling good about herself, but me and her bond. So now she allows me to, when the baby is crying, I could pick the baby up, but she doesn't feel offensive.

You know what I mean? By the time it was over, oh, that's your Black mother. That's what she was saying. (laughs) And, but it was such a good experience for her. Now I can say to her, okay, maybe try this or maybe try that. I can make suggestions to her if she's more open to it, because I took care of her first.

Tasha: Were they always white when you say like, there must have been some Black women that were there (T: yes) too.

Teouria: There were, and you would've thought that maybe they would've got her a caregiver. Who looked more like her, but to me, in the scheme of things, when we're locked up, we all looked the same when we put on the green uniform, you know? So they just sent in the person that they felt was good for the job, and thank goodness, you know, it worked out.

Tasha: But some of these students of hers, fellow mothers, were in this agonizing situation, of being with their baby, getting taught about motherhood, knowing in a few months, they’d be separated from their baby. They’d stay in prison and their baby would go home.

Tasha: So your job was to take care of the babies and also take care of the moms in the for how long would that go? Like how long would those relationships be with those new moms?

Teouria: it depends if they're staying for a short period of time, it'll be for a short period. if the baby goes home and they have to stay longer, then. We’re gonna, I might see them in population and still keep in touch.

Tasha: What was some of the common wisdom you tried to share? You know, things you would try to teach these new moms?

Teouria: It would be to engage the baby where the baby is at. So a lot of times, Because it was our job to engage the baby. The mothers would just throw them in the corral and go on about their day watching TV. And you know, a lot of times the kids would act out, but it was really because their job is to play. And as a mom sometimes you have to play with them to understand them.

And um, a lot of times the mothers would kind of miss that. And I don't know, again, if that's a teachable skill. Um, Like I had one baby, if you would put him down, he would do like this little hand closing motion. And his mom thought that, oh, he's just being spoiled. But if you really looked at him, what he was saying is that he had a problem with transitions.

So you can't just come in and bam, put him down. So like say for instance, when it's time to change him, I would sing the same song. Or when it was time for him to interact with other kids, I had to sit down with 'em, introduce him, then back away. You know? So a lot of times mothers didn't realize that the kid was speaking in their own language. If you had a moment to hear and a lot of mothers didn't yet. But that's what the nursery kind of taught us as caregivers. We were on the floor with the kids looking at the world from their view, listening to their cues.

(MUSIC)

Tasha: So: you're teaching these classes, you're supporting these moms, and then meanwhile you're figuring out how to mother from inside. So those first, I don't know, moments and days, how did you keep your feet on the ground, you know, as a mother when you first got in and you knew you were gonna be apart from your kids?

Teouria: I barely kept my feet on the ground. Um, I was breastfeeding my son at the time, so any mother knows when you get that milk is a constant reminder of, oh my God, I'm not able to feed my child.

I fell into a complete depression, wasn't come outta my cell, didn't wanna do anything. And, um, I think at one point it's like, okay, T you're still here. You're existing. So you have to figure out a way to carve out some type of existence. And it wasn’t again until I got upstate and I saw oh they have a nursery…I feel like that nursery kind of saved my life and got me to Realizing like, you still have a life. You could still mother, you could still help others.

Tasha: So it's like almost going right into the pain is what got you through the pain.

Teouria: That's exactly what it was. And I'm happy that I didn't run from it. 'cause when I seen the swing, I could have completely showed it myself from the pain at the moment. Then I, I felt like I was drawn to it. Like, no, you know, okay, you cry. Okay, and then now what? What can you do now? Or you cried and you didn't die. You're still alive, so go towards it and see what will come of it, because staying in a cell isn't gonna work, so why not come here and do something that's productive?

Tasha: And that kind of like moving through the pain instead of walking around it. I've been wondering about your birth of your son because you, you must have known by then you were going. Can I ask you about that?

Teouria: To me, in that moment, I feel like I just had to keep. Um, keep going. Um, I feel like everything that could've went wrong went wrong. Like I was staying with a cousin and because this case happened, like that relationship kind of dissolved and then I had to go get an apartment and I'm not gonna get an apartment knowing that I'm not gonna be here long. But, you have to keep–like, it was like a time in my life where I felt like I was shadow walking. As if, you know, you have to keep going even though you know what the outcome could be, you still have to keep going no matter what. No matter what.

Tasha: How was the actual birth for you? Where were you and what do you remember about it?

Teouria: I let it be a joyous occasion because to me…

(MUSIC BEGINS)

I feel like you can't let circumstance rob you of a life coming into the world. And so I just did the best with it that I could.

(MUSIC BREAK)

Tasha: So you go in and you have a four year old and a newborn. Can you talk to me about how you mothered while you were incarcerated and maybe how that evolved?

Teouria: So I was incarcerated for a long time. Um, so mothering changed throughout the time. At first both of my kids were with my cousin and then that situation changed and one child was in Florida, my son. And then my daughter was still local.

So I was more able to be more present with mothering her where it was harder 'cause he was further away. I think mothering was just, taking advantage of opportunities at the Children's Center. So if they had a summer program, my daughter was involved. If she can go to summer camp, she was involved. I'm not gonna lie to you. I was in their face all the time. Like, hi, what do you have? Okay, yes, sign my daughter up.

Tasha: The Children’s Center was where T was working, and in addition to having the prison nursery it had programs for kids visiting their moms, sometimes for a few hours, sometimes overnight.

Teouria: I was that parent that was always knocking a door down and um, and the director would say to me, sometimes I'm confused why you are that only parent sometimes.

Tasha: What do you mean? Like, why aren't more moms sort of fighting tooth and nail to get close to their kids if they can?

Teouria: Sometimes I feel like they don't know. Sometimes it could be, um, a rocky relationship with the guardian, or sometimes people don't want to walk into that pain. They'd rather go in a different situation, whether it's. Um, drugs, whether it's being in solitary, you know, anything else than to deal with that. Some mothers haven't fully engaged in being mothers. Like even with the nursery, I would ask this question, um, um, was this pregnancy planned? And a lot of times the answer would always be no. Um, do you have other children? Yes. Um, have you mothered those other children? A lot of times. No. A lot of times this would be the first time that they're sitting down and have to, or making a decision to be a hands-on mother. So inside, sometimes you have groups of women who their relationships are centered around motherhood. When the birthdays come, we're all making cakes and celebrating that child's birthday from inside. Or we're all sending birthday cards or signing cards, you know, and then some women, they don't wanna think about it.

TASHA: T’s kids would come for what are called trailer visits–overnights in a trailer on the prison grounds. It was the only time T got to be with both her children together–her daughter was living with her cousin then her daughter’s father in Buffalo, and her son was with his grandmother in Florida. Then after these trailer visits…they’d leave, and T would be without them again, for months. So it’s one thing to teach other moms these really deep, universal principles of mothering. But meanwhile, T was also trying to live them.

(MUSIC BREATH)

Tasha: Can you remember any moments with your kids where all of a sudden one of those lessons that you're teaching other moms comes home for you when you're on a trailer visit or something?

Teouria: So my daughter would come up 'cause she's local for trailer visits regularly, or she'll come up for the summer program or she'll come up for any events. Where my son was further in Florida, so his grandmother will only let him come up once a year. So when I get both kids on a trailer who are used to having their mother kind of separate. It was chaos like they were at each other's throats and I'm, they're little and I'm like, all, you know, how do I manage all of this?

But other mothers are going through it too, so I think the more. At that time it became more about activities outside, um, other mother's mothering. Um, them seeing us in a more communal aspect. 'cause on a visit they don't get that. You know, I remember my daughter, the first thing that she thought when she came up to the trailer, was, oh, why didn’t, you tell me you live by the park 'cause there's a playground out there.

She didn't even see the gates at, like, that was all disappeared for her. And so it was just a moment of. Seeing that her mother were other people able to converse and talk freely, not at a table, not something that, so officer is there, don't do this, don't do that. So to me it was a whole different environment and at that point you are just learning as you go.

Tasha: Which is like true of everyone. I guess I'm learning more and more you are just making it up as you go. You had instincts that you knew how to listen to.

Teouria: Um. To me, I just think I took advantage of the vulnerability of the situation. Um, I feel like during prenatal class, that was my main in.

Um, you're pregnant, you're in prison, you're vulnerable. And vulnerable as in ripe to maybe see something from a different perspective or to break down any barrier that you might have up because, When you're in such a hard place, it's only to me, typically two ways you're gonna be, either you're gonna be callous and hard or you're gonna let your guard down.

And I think I was in that moment where I wasn't guarded, I just was more vulnerable and wanted to learn how to do it right, be a better person.

Tasha: Why do you think that was the road you took?

Teouria: Because I seen other roads and they weren't pretty. (Laughs) I hate to be that way but. Before I got incarcerated, I wasn't a bad person.

I wasn't in the streets. I wasn't a troublemaker. I'd never been in trouble before. Um, and so when I got there and I'm in this new place, all I could do is just sit and watch like, what's going on here? Oh, don't go down there. Oh, don't talk to her. You know what I mean? I learned really quick. Um, what I didn't wanna do. Then when I heard about the college program and the nursery. I made a very, conscious decision, okay, this is what I wanna do because, to deteriorate, to, you know, become a bad person in a bad situation wasn't an option for me, not as a mother. Nope.

Tasha: Through all that, how did you understand your identity as a mom? Like how did you stay connected to it even when the system is trying to separate you from it?

Teouria: Because I felt like that was, at that moment, the crux of who I was. I hadn't become a college graduate yet. I hadn't become a homeowner yet. That was like the main focus point of my identity. I wasn't a wife; I was a mother. That's who I was before I got locked up. That's who I am now. I feel like that's who I will always be, and I wouldn't let the system take that away.

Tasha: What were you most afraid of at that time? Where were the darkest thoughts or the darkest fears around motherhood for you?

Teouria: That she would get home and that your children will hate you or that they are starting to hate you right now, or that they're calling someone else Mom. And that, you know, how you see yourself is not how they see you in their lives. So I think like, that was like my constant biggest fear. I'm gonna get home and they're gonna hate me, or they're gonna think that I don't love them or they're going to judge me.

Tasha: T got out at the end of 2018. She left prison with a college degree she earned inside–she graduated valedictorian.

Teouria: I can never explain what it's like to come home. I feel like they should have some type of medical term for it because it's literally overload.

I don't think I've ever had a feeling like that in my life where I felt like I was going to burst. Um, I didn't understand the value of money. So looking at apartments and rents, it was like, how am I supposed to pay for this? Um, I didn't have a job yet. It was just complete. I don't understand what's happening in my life, honestly.

And then within the 30 days, like the situation with my girlfriend fell through. Um, I told parole that I was staying somewhere else and it was like, you have 10 days to figure it out, or we're gonna put you in a shelter. Of course, I'm looking at apartments and they're doing background checks. Um, I ended up filling it out for the apartment and I did not check that I had been locked up before and the lady came back to me, she was a property manager and she was like, you know what, everybody deserves a second chance.

She gave me the apartment. My grandparents paid three months in advance because I didn't have a work history. Um, I ended up getting, um, a job and I can't even tell you how it all came together, but it came together and my kids moved in and we made it.

Tasha: Eventually T found not one but two jobs: A factory job overnight, and as a harm reduction counselor by day– a total of 16 hours a day working. And for the first time in all of their lives, she and her two kids were going to be living together.

Teouria: I feel like, and I could be wrong, I feel like for women and men who come home, it's totally different. Like for me, when I came home, it was the expectation of. You are going to get your children like within, uh, I wanna say a month to two months of me being home. I had two teenagers. So it was get with the program. You’re still a mom. You know, I’m expected to still be that.

Tasha: So then you, they get here and it kind of begins like your life living in a home with them begins. For the first time with your son.

Teouria: First of all, it was in an apartment that was kind of small with three bedrooms that were kind of small. He was from a suburb in Florida, so he is like, what is this? Because he loved me but didn't want to necessarily change his life, he had some resentment. He was breaking things, acting out. It kind of took a minute for us to figure out a dance and be able to bond. My daughter was completely jealous of my son, which was the typical on the trailers. She felt like he's getting more attention and I'm not. And at this time, she's in her last year of high school. And so to me, I feel like she was kind of more self-sufficient where he's being like taken from all he known and brought into a whole different environment.

So again, back to mothering and trying to figure out how to balance between two children and their own needs. It was a lot, it took a lot of work to get our relationship to where it is now.

Tasha: So then how did you understand your identity as a mom at that time?

Teouria: At that time, you just trying to understand your identity as a free person. As a returning citizen. So it was a balance of all of these things. Okay. I'm trying to have a job and be whatever that title says, and I'm trying to be a mom and I'm trying to pay the bills.

TASHA: At this point in our conversation, Tyler, T’s son came downstairs and into the kitchen to take out the garbage.

(T: Good morning! –laughing– I said he’s coming down! Tyler we’re in the middle of an interview Tasha: I’m Tasha nice to meet you!)

Tyler: nice to meet you – TAPE FADES UNDER:)

Tasha: I realized, meeting Tyler, that I’d still been picturing him as an infant. But he’s 18 now, and about to start college with a full scholarship. (conversation is under this narration)

(Conversation fades up for a moment before fading out)

Tasha: I was gonna ask you what you had to relearn as a mom, but it almost feels like it was a totally new–

Teouria: –mm-hmm.Totally new experience. Um, I think relearning how to listen, if anything, and like figure out how they feel because at that moment you're just trying to be the best mom that you could be, but, they have their own feelings, their own lives.

Tasha: Listening, like did you feel like you forgot that when you were inside? When you say you had to relearn that like…

Teouria: Well, listening with little kids is different versus listening with teenagers, when you're little you can kind of guide and instruct, but once they're 14 and up, they got their, they have their own way of seeing the world, their own vision, their own goals. Their own perspectives.

Like for instance, my daughter she had been living one way with her dad, and now my mom is here, and her expectations of me in her mind was so much that. She ran away. At first she kept running back to her dad, running back to her dad.

Tasha: When you say she would run away, like, what do you mean? Can you give me a day or a, an example of a time where you had to figure that out?

Teouria: I'm at work, I'm working overnights. So something told me to come home. Okay. I'm gone 16 hours a day and I come home late in the middle of the shift. My daughter is in the hallway with a boy, and so I'm like, oh, no, this is not happening. He has to go. She runs back to her dad because literally I know this is the behavior that he allows.

It's a conversation and listening to what she thinks is right in the world, who she thinks she is in the world, or how she thinks things should be in the world, or understanding her overall goals, so listening as in, um, why is she always running? What is she afraid of? What is her expectation of me? How does she want our relationship to be? It is starting from the ground up. Everything I thought went out the window.

It was starting from the ground up.

Tasha: And how did you know how to do that?

Teouria: Many mistakes, many failures and bumps and bruises and oh my goodness, we're back at this part again. We went around the bush again.

I think it had to be an adjustment in my mind about who I was in their life and listen to them about who they felt I was in their life.

Tasha: I notice with my own baby, I still have moments where I'm insecure that I'm not, and I'm in the easy part, you know, like I'm not reckoning with a teenager and I haven't navigated what you've navigated, but that I get insecure about if I'm the right mom for him. Like if I'm doing it–

Teouria: –I get insecure about everything. So say for instance, Tyler asked me to come with him to Damon to meet a new track coach. So I'm there viewing the school we're going through to the different facilities, and I'm sitting here, I'm like, Damon is private. It's 48,000 a year.

I'm trying to figure out like, okay, what is it that he wants me to do here?

Totally insecure. And I watch Tyler negotiate with this coach. You know, I'm just, I guess I'm just there as the, go ahead. Get in there. You know, just the nodding head of Go ahead, son. And negotiate with this coach about getting a scholarship. You know, uh, getting the things that he needs to be able to go forward and do what he needs to do.

And to me, I feel like in those insecure moments, if you laid the foundation, your child will show you that the seeds that you planted there, they're growing. That’s what he’s done. But I feel like I set the example when I graduated from college in prison as the valedictorian, the seed was already planted then.

Tasha: I think something I'm struggling with right now as a mom myself is I feel like it opened up all this joy and love and then it also opened up a lot of darkness for me, like a lot of fear because there's just now the worst thing. Is now like that you lose your kid or that they die or something.

And I, I sometimes struggle with how to live in that, like how to live in that light and dark.

Teouria: It's, it is difficult. So the other night, Tyler worked till midnight and then he decided he wanted to go out. I'm like, what time are you thinking about coming in? 4:00 AM no. Three. This is mom negotiating at all times.

And then, um, when three came and he wasn't in. You think the worst. He's like, oh my God, what's going on? He's not that. Then I text him, he's still out with his friends, and I'm like, no, you gotta be in. Oh, I'm just, I work so hard and I'm going to school and I'm doing all the right things. I can't have a little bit of fun?

And it's like, yeah, but anything can happen. But I get it. I'm your only son and you wanna protect me, but as a mom, we think you don't have to be doing anything wrong. And something bad can happen. And he’s a Black male. It's a constant worry that anything can happen to him at any moment. And I just think as a parent, you're gonna always navigate that. You better always worry. In a way that I know that they don't understand. They just look at it like, ‘I'm just living my life!’

Tasha: So back to the kind of final question I wanted to ask. What is maybe unteachable about mothering? You've done all this mothering in your own life. You've taught all these mothers. Is there anything that you just have to live and you can't teach?

Teouria: Um, to me, I feel like all of it is based on experience. like to me, I don't feel like motherhood in a whole is teachable. You have to experience it, bump your head, learn from the mistakes. And regroup. To me it's the learning from the mistakes part. Some lessons I have to learn over and over again, and I'm like, I thought I understood this, like, why am I back here again? And then there'd be a moment where something happens and it's like, bam, there it is. I got it.

[Mux: ES_Lawn Road - Anders Schill Paulsen-02]

(MUSIC STARTS, FADES UP UNDER:)

Always be open to learning. I feel like kids teach you so much every day. Um, so never be shut off from learning and being receptive to what they have to tell you. You know, you have your job, your career, your mate, or whomever.

But I feel like your kids is what shaped you and teach you things about yourself that you didn't even know. Patience (laugh), understanding, like they, you know, they show you things that you, how to strive to be better. 'Cause even here I wasn't always here. In a good place so that they can go to a good school so that they can thrive. So again, they push you and motivate you to be better, whether it's circumventing, whatever, so that you could figure out a way to get more, be more so they can have access to more.

(MUSIC CONTINUES)

Tasha: This fall T started an MBA program. She also does hair from her home. And she says she is still teaching mothering. Whether it’s to her cousins who are having babies now or the women whose hair she does. She talks to them about child development, object permanence, lamaze, and most of all, how to listen to yourself, which she says really only you can teach yourself as a mother.

(MUSIC CONTINUES AND THEN FADES DOWN)

Julia: Tash, I am so glad you found T after all these years. One thing that really moved me is that she focuses so much on how you have to keep learning and growing with so much humility.

Tasha: mmhmm

Tasha: Yeah. I think the thing that I most remember, that I was really haunted by when she first told me about it ten years ago and am so grateful we got to talk more about it, is that idea of moving through the pain that might come your way as a mother, instead of around it. And leaning into the moments we’re most vulnerable as also when we’re most open to learning and surprising, and even saving ourselves.

Julia: Absolutely. So much of the time we defend against our vulnerability and close up behind our armor to protect ourselves. It feels like moving towards the pain, and being with the vulnerability, it’s the unteachable heart of mothering–and in fact where you become a mother, and create the roots for your children to blossom. It reminds me of the saying, “they tried to bury me, not knowing I was a seed”.

(MUSIC UP, MUSIC CARRIES UNDER )

Tasha: So this has been our first episode of Mother is a Question. We’re continuing our journey from here through this territory called motherhood

Julia: This place that can be a portal into our humanity, full of shadows and mysteries

Tasha: This place that’s home to people who have birthed, who have not birthed, who cannot birth,

Julia: This place for creating, nurturing, supporting and affirming life.

Tasha: As we set out to find the intimate wisdom forged in the fires of mothering

Julia: To crack open definitions–

Tasha: –and listen for the unspeakable,

Julia: Will you join us? We can only make meaning together. So you, our listeners, our community: What’s something about mothering that can’t be taught? Leave us a message on our heartline. (802) 404-1663‬ or send us a voice memo at motherisaquestion@gmail.com

Tasha: We’re listening.

(MUSIC FADES DOWN, IDEALLY X FADE TO NEW SONG UNDER THE MONTAGE)

BEEP

Hannah: Something about mothering that feels impossible to teach is how to really listen to your child. And I mean that at every stage, how to listen to them before they have language, how to listen to them when they have some, how to listen to them when they have a lot, and how at every stage to begin to decode this complex web of needs and sorrows and joys that is particular to your child and that will never be fully realized in language.

Ellen: You know what you're doing. You love your child. Your child is not in control of its life you are. That's very hard to teach. The child's going to go on and become the adult they're gonna be, and what you have given them will come from your example. It won't come from what you've said. Occasionally it will. They'll look back on what you've said, but mostly they're going to look back on the way you were. What did you do, not what did you say?

Rita: Hi, Julia and Tasha. This is Rita. I don't think I received any advice on mothering. For some reason, that's how I grew up. And then... I feel that there is nothing can be taught about mothering to someone else. They have to go through their own experience. First of all, every child comes with their own, uh, tendencies. And, uh, one formula does not apply to other ones. So, I, I mean, you can teach about the general things like how to put the diaper on, how to breastfeed or something like that, but the deepest. How to actually raise a child cannot be taught.That's what I feel. Thank you. Bye.

(LAST SEGMENT OF THEME MUSIC FADES UP, CARRIES THROUGH TO THE END)

TASHA: Thanks for being with us in the questions. This episode of Mother is a Question was produced by me, I'm Natasha Haverty.

JULIA: and I'm Julia Metzger-Traber. Our team is Courtney Fleurantin, Genevieve Sponsler, Sandra Lopez-Monsalve, Emmanuel Desarme, and Whisper Speak Roar Media's Suzanne Schaffer. The executive producer of PRX Productions is Jocelyn Gonzales.

TASHA: Our theme music is by Julia Read and Raky Sastri. Other music is from APM. Special thanks to North Country Public Radio, my first radio family and home base when I went down to Bedford Hills Prison and originally met T. Especially thanks to Brian Mann. If you want to hear the story I did about T in 2013, it’s on my website natashahaverty.com

JULIA: Mother is a Question is part of the Big Questions Project at PRX Productions, and is supported by the John Templeton Foundation.

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