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Mothering/Therapist Role of Brown Women & Their Resistance to Patriarchal Norms

2310 Sociology of Emotions: Fall 2022 - Professor Shruti Devgan

David Israel

In the News

December 2, 2022 By David Israel

Three News Articles

When Mom’s Zoom Meeting Is the One That Has to Wait by Jennifer Medina and Lisa Lerer 

This New York Times article concerns women’s role as mothers and workers during the pandemic, and the difficulties faced. Problems such as managing childcare and how to do their job efficiently from home arose often. For example, miscommunication from spouses that did not share they needed to have meetings and that those meetings required to be uninterrupted made the mothers have to “figure out how to tend to their [children]” with little to no time, all while managing their schedules too. The only way to get away from everyone was to hide in the bathroom with the door locked, showing how stressful the time was. Saba Lurie is a therapist, and she reports that other women are experiencing the same troubles. The struggles Lurie and other women face are indicative of the caretaking role put on women and their bodies that their male counterparts often do not have the burden of carrying: “Even before the coronavirus crisis, women spent about four hours a day on unpaid work, like laundry, grocery shopping and cleaning, compared with about 2.5 hours for men.”

As in the reading we did for class for week nine’s unit focusing on Covid-19, race, and anxiety, “When Work Came Home: The Formation of Feeling Rules in the Context of a Pandemic,” this article also concerns gender inequality and the emotional and physical labor of women within the home. For example, the journal article mentions that “without adequate workspace and without childcare, life felt like triage for participants and elicited reflection on the gendered nature of household work.” The news article says something similar: “they have been slightly stunned to learn that they are expected to organize and manage every domestic need for their family, while maintaining a full-time professional career as part of a dual career couple.” So, in both readings, the gendered labor put on women’s bodies highlights that the role of caretaker, and problem-solver, among many more, is cast on them. Though there are many difficulties, it is crucial to note the resilience of these women. Though they should not have to, they find ways to manage, from bringing their kids to their zoom calls to making makeshift therapy rooms in the bathroom.

Column: Respectability has many forms: remembering Sara Shagufta by Kamran Asdar Ali

This column remembers Sara Shagufta, a wonderful and rebellious Pakistani poet who died by suicide. Kamran Ali focuses on a theatrical performance in memory of Shagufta and on a poem Shagufta wrote titled “Woman and Salt” to explain her life and impact. Ali writes, “Shagufta at this relatively young age, [29], had acquired fame as a poet who shunned convention in her verses and in her personal life (Ali, 2013).” She resisted norms and became known as “Urdu’s first angry poet,” a subversive state of being as anger is not an emotion women, especially brown women, are encouraged to feel (Ali, 2013). To allow yourself to not only feel but express your emotions and thoughts publicly is a radical act, especially when the feeling rules and social norms do not align. For example, Shagufta would not wear a dupatta and would be criticized for being promiscuous. She, however, would continue not to wear one showing her resistance, again, to norms. 

Some “women distanced themselves from Shagufta by asserting their own respectable background,” showing the importance of respectability politics. Though the women “admired her courage to live life according to her wishes; an existence that did not conform to the drudgery of a married middle-class life and responsibilities that many found themselves trapped in,” they felt the need to distance themselves to maintain their image and family’s image. The quote touches upon two ideas: 1) the difficulties of married life because of the responsibilities which involve physical and emotional labor and 2) the importance of reputation. These ideas connect to a week seven reading titled “Love in Liminality: The Modes and Spaces of Intimacy in Middle Class Pakistan” by Ammara Maqsood. Difficulties of marriage come from the emotional labor of things such as having to tend to children, housework, and manage not only your emotions but others in the family too (Maqsood, 2021, p. 266). The text often mentions reputation regarding marriage and relationships, especially concerning women: “the insistence on “not being that type of girl” may just be a ploy, intended to safeguard reputation (Maqsood, 2021, p. 271).” “That type of girl” is understood as a woman who does not follow feeling rules or social norms or does not play hard to get. However, the term “hard to get” is problematic because it implies the notion of conquest, that a person is someone to be got, obtained as if an object. For this reason, Sara Shagufta was criticized as promiscuous and indecent for being in many relationships; however, she acknowledged nonsense in the criticism and used her voice to resist it. “Urdu’s first angry poet” had a lot of meaningful and necessary things to say, is and will continue to be remembered (Ali, 2013). 

Marriage in Pakistan is a marry one get one free deal — marry your husband and get his entire family too

In this article, Abeer Mahar describes the feelings, traumas, and inhibitions that Brown women face as a result of their displacement and adjustment into a new family. As a patriarchal society that values joint, multi-generational households, newly-wed Brown women leave their own family home to join their husband’s home. Within this process, many women discover that they were never educated about the resentment, grief, and bereavement they would have to maneuver in their new home. Newly-wed Brown women are expected to “change [themselves]” to fit into their new environment by “[taking] up less space, [neglecting to] speak their minds, and being subservient to not just their husbands but everyone in his family.” This article speaks to the brave, bold faces many young brides feel they must perform to be accepted into their new lives. 

Along with their new families telling them to be grateful, these women are repeatedly fed messages that force them to deep act their emotions away. Brown women are told positive, fulfilling stories of life in the joint family, but not ones of the burdens it has on the Brown body. The stories that are propagated feature women as moody and difficult bridezillas instead of those of women experiencing moments of extreme change, uncertainty, and newness.  The author writes, “Listening to these stories made me feel like I hit the jackpot with my in-laws. So why was it that I felt this strange sadness that over took me randomly? Often, I silenced that feeling because of the horrors stories I had been listening to for almost a year.” The feeling rules of the post-marriage period “guide emotion work by establishing the sense of obligation” Brown women have to perform “positive” feelings in front of their new families (Hochschild 1979, 58). Hence, they silence their sadness and resentment, denying themselves of their valid feelings as they do not want to be seen as ungrateful or unloving towards their husbands. These women tell themselves that “they’re not the first to part with their families” and that their feelings are inappropriate because they encounter “cajoling, chiding, teasing, scolding, and shunning” that operate as forms of “ridicule or encouragement that lightly correct their feelings and adjust it to convention” (Hochschild 1979, 60). Through various amalgamations of internal and external surface and deep acting, Mahar explains the emotional labor many women feel they must do to “adjust” into their new space.

 

Photo-Essay

December 2, 2022 By David Israel

Film: Encanto (2021)

“Chores”
Here, Mirabel sets the table for her family as she describes the family’s dynamics through the film’s introductory song, “The Family Madrigal”. The image shows her struggling a little to set the plates because of just how many there are. Given that the plates indicate each member of her family, it can be seen as a metaphor for all the labor she does for them, which given the numbers alone, is a lot. As a woman doing the chores, Mirabel connects to the body labor many women are socialized into. Reference to this body labor is discussed in Arlie Hochschild’s book, The Second Shift, which is highlighted in a journal article titled “When Work Came Home: The Formation of Feeling Rules in the Context of a Pandemic” (Rudrum, Sarah et al. 2021).

“Welcome to Family Madrigal”

Mirabel is the glue that holds the Familia Madrigal together. She stands in between both rows of her family members in the image, symbolizing the bridge between one another, the connection. Additionally, Mirabel mends, or at least attempts to mend troubles among family members, such as fears and worries that are not communicated because of strong people-pleasing tendencies. Being in the middle of all situations is a fitting example of the amount of emotional labor she does to make the family stick together. Also, given that Mirabel did not receive powers, which the rest of her siblings, aunts, and cousins have, she tries to compensate for what she views as a deficiency within herself through acts of service, a.k.a, emotional and body labor.

“Under the Surface”

Luisa is the eldest of all the Madrigal children and the power the magical candle gave her is physical strength. She can move mountains, houses, and donkeys and is always tending to the tasks and needs of her family and community. Luisa does all this body labor without question and without complaint creating or following, feeling rules that prohibit her from displaying any emotion that could trump gratitude. In her mind, she cannot express concern or worry about all she has to so, so she hides it “under the surface.” The task she feels she must handle is impossible and the image depicts that: what she feels seems like walking on a tightrope with weights so heavy on both of her shoulders.

“Who Am I If I Can’t Carry It All”

As the eldest sibling, Luisa takes on a caretaking role with her family and community. As mentioned before, she does plenty of body labor for others at her own expense and does not complain about it. She does not want to sound or come across as ungrateful because of this intense selflessness she has within her. To be selfish is viewed negatively, especially as she views her role as one of service. This view prevents her from extending enough, if any, sympathy margins to herself.

“I Grow Rows and Rows of Roses”

Isabela is the middle child of the three Madrigal sisters. Abuela, the matriarch of the family, views and treats her as the poster child of the Madrigals, which is why Isabela feels this pressure to upkeep the family’s image. Speaking of images, the background is stunning and depicts how she is viewed is very important, especially within the Encanto community. She swings on the vine to land gracefully, something that can be taken as a symbol to represent how much reputation matters and the internalization Isabela has done to protect and upkeep the perception of her family having it all together. Like her other sisters, she takes on the role of a caretaker.

“Perfect Practiced Poses”

To upkeep her family’s image, Isabela makes “perfect, practiced poses,” yet “so much hides behind [her] smile.” Like Kotchemidova’s journal article “From Good Cheer to ‘Drive-by Smiling’: A Social History of Cheerfulness,” Isabela presents as being positive and always happy to the outside world. She practices different poses and makes certain kinds of flowers to please her Abuela. In doing so, she is unhappy because she does not allow herself to be her true self in the name of her family. For example, she does not like Mariano, her boyfriend, but is willing to marry him for the sake of making her family happy and stronger.

TV Series: Made in Heaven (2019)

“Tara visits Adil in the hospital”

Context: Tara (left) and Adil (not pictured) are married. Adil is having an affair with Tara’s best friend, Faiza (not pictured). While returning from a romantic getaway, Faiza and Adil get into a car accident and end up in the hospital. On seeing Faiza in the hospital along with her husband, Tara realizes that she is being cheated on. 

In this scene, Tara lies to her best friends’ mother about her daughter’s whereabouts. Tara knows that Adil and Faiza were not planning her birthday and chooses to manage her emotions of hurt, grief, anger, and frustration in front of her in law’s family friends. In another scene, we see her breaking down after consenting to the spreading of this lie. Internally, Tara wants to hold Adil accountable and unleash her emotions but she not only feels that she is responsible for preserving her marriage, but also her husband’s reputation, hinting at the burden on brown brides in the Desi family system. As Tara is reliant on Adil’s funding to maintain her business, she chooses to bury her feelings in front of others, as to not anger Adil. She does this through surface acting using rigid facial expressions, a calm tone of voice, and lying. 

“Aliya finds out Angad lied to his parents about her virginity”

Context: Angad (right) and Aliya (right) are set to be married. Angad is the heir to his parents’ company and fortune, while Aliya is a journalist. Angad’s parents decide to conduct a background check on Aliya without her consent, suspecting that their quick engagement indicated something was not right with Aliya. They find out she had an abortion and use that as confirmation bias to cast her a “gold digger.” In an attempt to control the situation Angad lies to his parents and tells them the baby was his and he asked Aliya to abort it. 

When Aliya finds out, she walks out of the event in the middle of a dance with her fiance. Angered, resentful, and disrespected, Aliya confronts Angad in public, demonstrating the lack of management over her emotions. Here, Aliya disrupts the feeling rules expected of her. Brown brides often find themselves in situations where they must hide their internal feelings, desires, and thoughts from their in-laws to maintain the social fabric of the extended family system. Refusing to neglect her own feelings, Aliya engages in an expression of vulnerability and honesty.

“Tara convinces Aliya to do emotional labor”

Context: To protect Aliya’s dignity and respect, Angad renounces his family fortune, publicly humiliating (and disowning) his own family. Both partners decide to call the wedding off. As Brown wedding planners, Tara (right) and Karan (not pictured) have an obligation to the couple’s parents to make sure the wedding gets back on track. 

In this scene, Tara attempts to convince Aliya to engage in emotional labor and forget the damage Angad’s family did to her as expected from Brown women when it comes to issues with their in-laws. Tara tells Aliya, “It’s done now!” encouraging her to get over her anger. Aliya is repeatedly fed subliminal messages that suggest she is stubborn, ridiculous, and overreacting. Here, Tara policies Aliya for her valid emotions, convincing her that emotional labor is required to sustain a fulfilling, happy marriage so that Made in Heaven can earn capital and consequently Angad’s family is saved from humiliation. In the end Aliya concedes and the wedding goes on, sacrificing her dignity to preserve the social fabric and the family’s reputation.

“Sukhmani explains her strategies to win Jeet over”

Context: Jeet hosts a competition for his potential bride, a pageant where women compete to be his wife, scoring a ticket to America. Sukhmani (above) wins the competition. In her bridal interview she is asked about the intricacies of the competition. 

Here, Sukhmani explains, justifies, and emphasizes the emotional labor she participates in, she says, “I’ve had the experience to know what answers they like… Indian values and all.” Sukhmani describes the emotional labor she does in front of the groom’s family through surface acting (eye contact and a smile) to appease them and win Jeet’s affection. She proceeds with the interview in a completely different composure than when she speaks to the camera man, effectively hiding her genuine personality and replacing it with one that aligns with the submission and docility Brown women are expected to perform with their in-laws. Through her interview, the audience gets a sense of the price Sukhmani pays to receive acceptance from her new family.

“Priyanka confronts Vishal about his family’s request”

Vishal’s (right) parents demand 4 crores dowry from Priyanka’s (left). Priyanka’s parents pay the dowry, but, on finding out, Priyanka questions her soon-to-be husband if he was aware of this agreement in the middle of their wedding. She tells her husband the “Pheras can wait,” dismisses him when he asks her to discuss it with him later, and walks out in the middle of her wedding. 

Priyanka refuses to engage in emotional labor and proudly wears her disappointment in front of both families. She challenges the patriarchal norms Brown women are subjected to, refusing to put her husband’s comfort, reputation, and feelings over her own. Disrupting the sanctity of their Pheras, Priyanka puts her emotions front and center challenging the feeling rules expected of her in this setting

“Priyanka walks out of her own wedding”

Through intimidating eye contact, stern tone of voice, and the act of walking out, Priyanka wears her emotions on different parts of her body, suggesting the lack of labor she is engaging in. She subverts the emotional sensibilities brown women are expected to adhere to: silence, submission, and internalization. Not willing to sacrifice her dignity (unlike Aliya) to maintain the marriage and peace, Priyanka doesn’t allow Vishal’s parents’ feelings to dominate her decisions, destabilizing the emotional labor brides do for their in-laws.

Fiction/Poetry

December 2, 2022 By David Israel

Four Short Poems

You Called Me Corazón by Sandra Cisneros 

That was enough

for me to forgive you.

To spirit a tiger

from its cell.

Called me corazón

in that instant before

I let go the phone

back to its cradle.

Your voice small.

Heat of your eyes,

how I would’ve placed

my mouth on each.

Said corazón

and the word blazed

like a branch of jacaranda.

This poem is about returning to a man and forgiving him after he confessed a form of his love over the phone. So often, women are taught to be forgiving and have their attachment and worth be related to men. In Stevi Jackson’s journal article, “Even Sociologists Fall in Love: An Exploration in the Sociology of Emotions,” he focuses on love, how it does not get enough attention in the world of sociology, and the romanticization of love. One of the concepts in the reading is how “love is a way of seeking personal salvation in this world (as opposed to other worldly salvation),” and for women, this is a socialized process. Media and other forms of mainstream communication teach a false love, “utopian” that can be harmful and perpetuate negative behaviors, such as accepting maltreatment in the name of love (Jackson, 1993, p. 211). 

Name calling such as “corazon” is sometimes enough to ignore the “heat of [the] eyes.” In this poem, “the heat” can be interpreted as anger or rage. The notion of “conquest” also appears through these verses and can be interpreted to show how men sometimes use kind words to manipulate and excuse harmful behavior (Jackson, 1993, p. 214). For example, with the use of sweet-talking and kind acts of service such as bringing flowers the “conquest” occurs and “masculinity is asserted” (Jackson, 1993, p. 214). In the process, manipulation occurs. The passion and desire to be loved is so strong, a product of socialization, women are hurt.

 

A letter to las tias locas by Kim Guerra

We are the ones who dared to live a little differently

By loca, they mean free

Wild like the wind.

Te atreviste a vivir tu vida para ti. 

Maybe you never married

Maybe you got divorced

Maybe you just don’t give a fuck and simply live. 

Que honor que te digan loca

Siéntete orgullosa de la libertad que te haz dado

Tal vez eres queer

Tal vez no tengas hijos

Tal vez te valió madre

E hiciste tus propias reglas

Y decidiste hacer tu vida tuya.

This poem is one of admiration, affirmation, and congratulated resistance. Kim Guerra writes an ode to “tias locas,” which means “crazy aunts” because of how they are viewed in Latin culture. Guerra writes to the tias that “never married,” “got divorced,” and “simply live” because, generally, they are looked down upon. Women, especially brown women, are typically taught to tend to their husbands, have children, and make things work even if they are not. The lesson to put men before yourself and your needs is taught too often, especially in patriarchal societies, so much that if you do not, it is shameful. For this reason, Guerra aims to uplift the women viewed as “locas.” 

Snarky comments at the dinner table, chisme, or gossip behind backs result from choosing to live life differently. Guerra, however, sees this and decides to celebrate it by writing, “que honor que te digan loca” meaning “what an honor they call you loca” because she sees the beauty in rejecting patriarchal norms. In class, we talked about an asset-framing mentality in a journal article titled “Reducing the Joy Deficit in Sociology: A Study of Transgender Joy” (Shuster and Westbrook, 2022). The reading highlights that while it is essential to acknowledge harm, it is just as important to notice the good. Similarly, while Guerra mentions the insult “loca,” she then praises the word to reclaim it, turning it positive. She writes verses on the power of women making their own rules to live freely without being held down by the negative, shameful comments they receive. The asset-framing tone of the poem thus makes being called a “loca” something to be proud of.

 

Ma after Fajr by M.N. Shehryar

the vines fall capriciously against a wall, green-yellow stems filling gaps of concrete into wholeness. my mother i think is looking for something to care for, her children having grown too soon’, the violence in her husband’s voice not allowing for a slowly nurture. my mother in silence prunes a leaf, waters what i assume are either tomatoes or coriander, an expert wrist giving just enough that they might give life themselves. my mother teaches plants how to fly. my mother spends her afternoons on the terrace, rearranging mint so it sprouts taller, calling over the maali to furnish it with cow dung, cracking eggshells into insides of earthen clay. my mother says this is food for the soil. the money-plants are many, and my mother spends months intertwining their systems, making whole a family (if not hers). my mother has never pulled a plant from its roots. my mother can name shades of green, can in partial blindness identify rot from undernourished, will bury love into mush it refuses to emerge from. the days go by and my mother’s terrace is now a garden. she has grown something, a child intact, not a single root (even by accident) discarded. my mother when she is (often) sick never leaves her bed. the bougainvillaea call, asking to be planted, wanting to know why her favourite colour is green and not pink. my mother sleeps through this, and wakes to a week (maybe) of waking, steps outside and thumbs through a leaf. obliviously a child of hers sleeps in the next room, another across an ocean, but here is this: that which she grew/clenched dirt keeping hostage thriving root/a vein she can croon, and it will never leave

Taking on the mental load, childcare, and domestic labor, Brown women are situated at the center of the family system’s functioning. Bound to expectations that force them to decenter themselves, they find themselves engaging in embodied labor that starts to become intrinsic to their personalities. Knowing their family’s tastes, dispositions, and needs, the household ceases to function without Brown mothers. In this poem, Shehryar uses the metaphor of a garden to illustrate and accentuate his mother’s relationship with nurturing and nourishing others. His word choice of “filling gaps” and “wholeness” suggests how integral care is to his mother, who is incomplete when she is left with no one to care for. The phrases “teach,” “making a family,” and “bury love” indicates the roles his mother plays in the home, where she engages in daily labor to regulate her family, which ultimately helps sustain her. This poem empathizes with Brown women who feel lost with no one to care for and feel tireless and lonely when left to their own devices. Through Shehryar’s intricate account of his mother’s gardening, he builds a portrait of the level of attention, nurture, and support that Brown mothers devote to their families and simultaneously identify with. 

Relegated to a  subordinate social stratum as they have less independent access to money, power, authority, and status, Brown women have “elaborate routines of attending to (and being accountable for) both the mundane and extraordinary organization of the details of their partners [and families’] personal and emotional lives in ways that revealed traditional gender roles” (Pfeffer 2010, 174). Often, “The responsibility of nursing older male members in the family falls entirely on a female” (Mishra 2020, 69). Though they portray these behaviors as “[matters] of personal style or a reflection of roles that [are] intrinsic,” they ultimately perform most of the emotional and embodied labor in the household (Pfeffer 2010, 174). Nearly all of the emotional and bodily labor they perform is unrecognized,  unpaid, and unappreciated. Through this poem, Shehryar attempts to center Brown women and the gentleness, tenderness, and love behind their unrecognized labor.

 

Woman and Salt by Sara Shugufta

There are many types of respectability

The veil, a slap, wheat

Stakes of imprisonment are hammered into the coffin of respectability (honor)

From house to pavement we own nothing

Respectability has to do with how we manage

Respectability is the spear used to brand us

The selvedge of respectability begins on our tongues

If someone tastes the salt of our bodies at night

For a lifetime we become tasteless bread

Strange market this is

Were even the dyer has no colors

The kites on the palm of space are dying

I deliver babies in imprisonment

The earth should be playful for legitimate offspring

Because you deliver children in fear today you have no pedigree

You are known by the name of one wall of your body

How you conduct yourself has been made central to your status

A beautiful gait

A false smile chiseled on your lips

You haven’t wept for years

Is that what a mother is like?

Why have your children turned pale

which tribe of mothers do you belong to

of rape, of imprisonment, of a divided body

or of daughters bricked up alive.

Your daughters in the streets

Knead hunger with their own blood

And eat their own flesh.

Which of your eyes are these

How many times has the wall of your house been bricked up

You let may daughter be my name

But your son’s name is the currency of the time

Today, your daughter tells her own daughters

I shall brand my daughter’s tongue

Blood-spitting woman is not a metal

Is not looking for bangles to steal

A battleground my courage, a spark my desire

We were born wearing shrouds round our heads

Not born wearing rings

Which you might steal.

Submissiveness, docility, and silence are traits valued in Brown women. In their cultural context, a woman who aligns with these traits is characterized as respectable, decent, and ideal. Often their agency, opinions, and needs are brushed aside and overridden. Brown women find themselves attending to the physical and emotional comfort of others, creating “a pleasurable experience [for them]” (Kang 2003, 827-8). In this poem, Sara Shugufta negotiates the realities of being a woman in a South Asian cultural context. 

Through her words “respectability has to do with how we manage” and “how you conduct yourself has been made central to your status,” the audience is able to get a sense of the surface and deep acting Brown women engage in to be perceived as worthy by others. In marriage and relationships, “gender operates as a social institution that lays the groundwork for the very existence of these [relationships] and frames the interactions that occur within them” (Kang 2003, 835). Shugufta describes the pained surface acting women must adhere to through her words “A false smile chiseled on your lips / You haven’t wept for years.” Through her words, the audience can gauge that Shugufta is burdened, wounded, and distressed by the labor she is expected to perform, however she feels she has to perform happiness, satisfaction, and contentedness to be deemed honorable by others. She illustrates the lack of agency Brown women have in doing emotional labor as it is presented as a necessity, essential for the livelihood of women unless they want to be cast as indecent. Moreover, women are only allowed to take up space if they hide their internal desires and needs from the world, and make themselves small so that others can exist freely around them. Instead of accepting this gendered expectation, Shagufta picks at its implications for the women it affects. Through the words “imprisonment,” “hunger,” “divided,” “brand,” and “battleground,” Shugufta creates imagery similar to that of war and violence, showing the detrimental impact it has to her mental well-being. Through this poetry, Shugufta resists, reimagines, and disrupts normative emotional and bodily expectations. 

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