Tuesday November 20, 2007

[Erin] The fellowship of men

I want to preface this post by saying that nothing in it should be construed as being critical or negative toward families who have made less traditional choices than the ones many crunchy cons may make. Just as some of us who generally consider ourselves "crunchy cons" don't live in a crunchy house, or buy our groceries at an organic co-op, or share Rod's perspectives on specific elements of faith or culture, so do some people who generally fall into the "crunchy" category take a different tack on the notion of family that Rod has expressed in his book and his other writings. To tell the truth, I respect the reality that most of us in all of these areas are doing the best we can, one day at a time, and the mom who works a full-time job outside the home isn't necessarily an "uncrunchy" mom, any more than the mom who pulls the minivan into a fast-food drive through window on a fairly regular basis. To me, the single most important sentence in Crunchy Cons, the one that identifies who and what a crunchy conservative really is, was this one: "Every one of us can refuse, at some level, to participate in the system that makes us materially rich but impoverishes us spiritually, morally, and aesthetically. We cannot change society, at least not overnight, but we can change ourselves and our families."

That said, as a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom, I live a life that is almost radically conservative--radically, as in having to do with roots. Moms like me are returning a little at a time to an older, slower, more peaceful way of life, a style of living that doesn't constantly force us to choose between the needs of an employer and the needs of our husbands and children. For moms in the avant-garde of the stay-at-home/homeschooling movement, the life could be very rewarding, but there's no question that it was also very lonely: a couple of decades ago a mom like me had very little community or support; and though there were other people homeschooling twenty or thirty years ago, the vast majority of those early homeschoolers were politically liberal.

That situation has changed dramatically. Not only are more people from all walks of life choosing to stay at home with their children and provide their children's educations, there also are opportunities for connection, interaction, fellowship and community with like-minded moms not only in our immediate communities, but all over the country, and even the world. The Internet has played a big role in this, of course; moms can teach in the morning and grab a cup of coffee in the afternoon while exchanging ideas on a homeschooling forum or following links to information about homeschooling activities in their own communities. I may not be able to chat with a neighbor as we both hang laundry in the back yard of an afternoon, but I can exchange e-mails with a homeschooler just starting out to lend a little advice and support--and then turn around and e-mail my older sister, busily homeschooling her boys from high school age down to preschool, for advice on handling a tricky chapter in sixth-grade math. Homeschoolers I know meet for social activities, field trips, and evenings of fellowship in a comfortable coffee shop; we exchange ideas, vent our frustrations, and form the bonds of friendship.

As wonderful as this can be, I'm starting to notice its one drawback: though we traditional moms are finding ways to connect, there's precious little out there like this for the traditional dads, the husbands and fathers who work so hard to make this way of life possible for us and for our children.

Some men find it necessary to keep the information that their wives "don't work" very private, because some of them have learned to their detriment that they will face attitudes ranging from derision to open contempt and hostility from their co-workers who have made different choices. Add to this information the fact that your wife is homeschooling your children, and you might as well show up for work in Amish attire, as out-of-touch and otherworldly as your choices will seem, to many, to be. Even if a man is lucky enough to work in an environment where his colleagues are relatively laissez-faire about his family's choices, many of the socialization opportunities his co-workers engage in will be closed to him: for instance, though he may not particularly mind sports bars, the odds that he's going to want to spend several hours in one after work when his priority is to spend time with his family is pretty low.

Friends who knew him before he was married and had children might not understand why he won't sacrifice entire weekend days to play golf; men at church might invite him to participate in the weekly meetings of a men's group (such as the Catholic group, the Knights of Columbus) without understanding that he works ten-hour days and is expected to be available on-call to his employer on a 24/7 basis. He may feel constantly pulled between the needs of his family and the demands of his job, and find himself wishing all the time that there was a little more time for leisure, for the cultivation of friendships, and for the level of fellowship and support that his wife has begun to take for granted.

I know several men, the husbands of stay-at-home moms and the fathers of homeschooled children, who feel this way. But just as we, their wives, really do need each other for that vital support and friendship without which our days would be even longer and more arduous than they sometimes actually are, so too do our husbands need the fellowship of other men, men who can say those words that are often the foundation-stones of friendship: I know exactly what you mean.

It's hard enough to reject our culture, with its emphasis on material success and the constant acquisition of bigger and better stuff. It's hard enough to walk as a person of faith, seeking to return to ancient traditions in worship and to rediscover the roots of our beliefs. It's hard enough to lay aside the stresses of a job to be present to your wife and your children at the end of a long day. But it's even harder if there are times when you are so isolated from the others like you out there who are doing the same thing that you are tempted to believe that you are the only one.

Comments (36)

Filed Under: culture, fellowship, traditional dads

posted by Erin Manning @ 5:00pm Permalink Email This Add to: