Chloe+H’s+Final+AmEx+Speech+2017

A woman’s place is in the house. PAUSE. And the senate. I don’t want to grow up to become another blonde, suburban mom who drives a minivan and picks up her kids from school every day at 3. I don’t fit into that life; it is like trying to put a cube through a circular hole. You may be sitting there thinking, “Chloe, you have no idea what motherhood is like? How can you know if you want it or not?” Well most days a week, I am a “mom.” I have a car seat in my car--which picks up strange stares in every situation. I pick up two kids from school at 3 o’clock. I make quesadillas as after school snacks. I battle with them everyday as they beg for ice cream or xbox time or refuse to feed their dogs. They yell at me; they cry, I cry. They accidentally call me “Mom.” They run outside yelling “Wait Chloe!” just to give me a hug before I leave, even though I am going to see them the next day. They make me artwork that I keep in my room. Sometimes they even make me a coffee after a long day at school when they know I look tired. I feel like a mom. I get all sides of the gig too; the mean kids, the sweet kids, the stubborn kids, the rambunctious kids. And sometimes, I really like it. On Monday’s, Stella and I spend an hour at the park, lying on a blanket looking at the clouds. She will usually ask, “do you think people think you are my mom or my big sister?” I’ll laugh and respond saying “I hope people don’t think I’m your mom.” Then she asks if I want to have kids, again, I laugh and say something clever like “not after spending all this time with you and Sawyer!” Which then makes her laugh. But it makes me think. When I attempt to picture my future, I cannot picture myself as a mom. I see myself in my best business attire presenting an oral argument to the Supreme Court. Or living in a D.C. apartment as I intern for a senator. Unfortunately, my maternal instincts are spot on. When I have to suddenly slam on the breaks in the car, I also immediately put my arm out across to the person sitting in the passenger seat; something my mom told me is a classic “mom-habit” to save the child from the air bag. I always have the sunscreen at the beach and make sure everyone lathers up. I make my friends lunches to make sure everyone is well-fed over my own nutritional needs--now that’s just the Jewish mother in me. Oh man, Jews. I am supposed to grow up, marry an NJB, and pump out 2 to 4 kids with my submissive husband. Laugh you may at that comical, yet true, Jewish stereotype, but if I told my grandma that I was even questioning being a mom, I would have gotten myself into a long discussion about the benefits of children. More than anything, I despise the social norms that have cornered us into the family life. Go to school, get a job, meet your spouse and have kids. Couples without kids are looked at as abnormal and pestered with questions: Why don’t you have kids? Are you unable to? Do you hate children? Those assumptions are incredulous presumptions. In a TV show, the protagonist and his wife chose not to have children. Why? Well who cares its their decision. But they are constantly bombarded with questions regarding their decision to support each other, rather than to reproduce; it even begins to affect how people trust them because society sees a broken family rather than two intelligent adults. In another scene, a woman asks the wife, Claire, “Do you regret not having kids?” to which Claire replies “Do you regret having kids?” and the conversation comes to a halt. Why is it that nobody ever asks your parents if they regretting having you? Well because that’s just plain rude. So, we should then equate the same respect to couples without children because asking them of their regrets is inconsiderate as well. In the America I wish to grow up in, I want the family unit to not be as conforming. I want women and men to have the choice to have children or not without the fear of questioning repercussions for either decision. I have the utmost respect for mothers everywhere; it is the hardest job and it is nonstop. Am I a shying away from the challenge? Maybe. Am I too fearful of being disliked by my children? Probably. Am I worried that I will fail at being a mom? Yes. I am not standing here, committing myself to never being a mom, and I am not getting my tubes tied anytime soon. However, I am tired of blindly following the social norm that binds women to motherhood and instead I chose to consciously think about the notion of parenting, because it definitely isn’t for everyone. Thank you. I’ve seen countless of men and women walk in with a baby on there hip. A toddler toddles through the shop with some remnants of food on her face. All the parents are smiling and look unbelievably happy. Don’t get me wrong, babies are cute, but do I want them?