When I think about what it must have been like for my mother to do this as the weeks turned into months and years, the scope of her achievement is staggering. All four of her children graduated from high school. Three of us graduated from college. Two became doctors. We are, like all families, flawed, but we are here as a testimony to what is possible.
By the time my college graduation rolled around, I planned on skipping the ceremony. I wanted to get my degree mailed to me and move on, but she insisted on attending. I realize now it was not my graduation — it was hers, the fruit of her sacrifice. My mother’s joy at her children’s achievements was both pride and vindication, a sign that her labor was not in vain.
My mother’s exceptionalism can create a false narrative that if we work hard enough, all will be well. But it shouldn’t be this difficult for solo parents.
I wish my mother had had the supportive network I’ve had. What would it look like for religious communities, employers and others to help the 23 percent of American parents who are raising their children alone? It would look like their not, in fact, being alone. It would involve their receiving what I’ve received, the support and understanding of a community that recognized that I was doing something important. If that is true of me, it is even more so of solo parents whose sacrifices continue.
Governments can also help. President Biden has offered a proposal to expand the child tax credit. Senator Mitt Romney of Utah has a plan to replace the credit with monthly cash payments to parents of children. These programs are not designed just for solo parents, but since on the whole, solo parents’ households are more likely to be impoverished, they will help. This issue deserves sustained public debate.
Every year, when my mother calls me on my birthday, she talks about how she can still feel the pain from giving birth to me. She used to ask, “Did you know that I was in labor with you a whole day?” In recent years, the length of her labor has grown, to a somewhat unbelievable seven days.
I used to push back on her comedic stylings, saying, “Mom, it was not that long.” But there is a truth hidden in her humor. Her children are not the work of sweat and pain in a hospital. We are the work of a life. All children of solo parents, who contribute so much to the American project, are proof that their work was not wasted.
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