reflections on food

growing, cooking, eating, and thinking…

F3 = 2 := In My Life Now


This is my family: my husband of twenty years, with whom I share unspoken words and deep friendship, and my two teenagers: Anna and Daniel. We are our better selves when we are out in the woods, camping. Our son developed very early in life a passion for fishing that later infected my husband too. My daughter and I seem impervious, but we do enjoy eating fish.

Raising a family is beneficial to the careers of most males in the United States, and particularly so in the Academia. The reverse is true for females.


I’m very proud of my family, on the days I don’t feel trapped by their bare existence. The literature might be starting to account for the handicap a family brings to women’s careers: that will not change the market for me, nor will it ease the toll of anxiety, nor the numbness caused by having been regularly interrupted at irregular intervals throughout my studies for the past six years –and I underline the hazard of intermittent interruptions…

But my kids are my joy and my pride, and the reason I keep working towards my degree or working at all. Because I was a troubled teenager in a dysfunctional family, I did all I could to provide them with the support I did not receive. At a cost. I haven’t the ability to acknowledge what I do as a mother as worthy of the same respect and pride as a “real” job. Gramsci – who graduated from the same Philosophy department I graduated from – keeps scolding me, reminding me that I absorbed the hegemonic worldview I am fighting against. Foucault tells me that there is no real way out, but as encompassing as this govern-mentality looks like, there are cracks in the structure, and likely it is not a structure at all. Jung consoles me with the support of my favorite archetypes. Ghosts that keep me company when I wake up at 3 a.m. and start worrying about, well, everything…

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This entry was posted on February 2, 2015 by in autoethnography and tagged .
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