It?s Better To Be Raised by a Single Mom

A few months ago, social scientist W. Bradford Wilcox insisted in Slate that it?s worse to be raised by a single mother even if you?re not poor. Children of single mothers, he argued, are more likely to end up as pregnant teens, or in jail, or otherwise in trouble. For centuries Wilcox?s has been the common view. But in an age when single motherhood is becoming more common, these mothers (and social science research) are starting to challenge that view. In fact, some believe that in an era when children are coddled and dependent for way too long, being a child of a single parent has distinct advantages.

Readers, we invite you to submit your testimonies on why being raised by a single mother, or being a single mother, has its benefits and might even be better than having both parents around. Send your essays to doublex.slate@gmail.com and write ?single mother? in the subject line. We will choose the best ones and run them on the blog. We?d love to hear from single dads and boys raised by single mothers, too.

The author and her kids visit the Clinton Presidential Library in Little Rock, Ark.

Courtesy Pamela Kripke.

If the forms ask, I check off the box that says ?head of the household.? Gender: female. Eyes: brown. Occupation: queen. Queen of the castle. If there were a moat, it would be my moat. I would orchestrate all activities in the moat. Canoe races, water aerobics, turtle hunting, you know. This year marks the 10^th that I have held such an esteemed domestic status. One decade. My first milestone.

When couples celebrate their 10^th anniversary, they might buy important jewelry and give it to each other to wear. Sometimes they surprise each other and hide the jewels under napkins or in soup bowls. That?s because a decade is a long time, a long time to share towels and make compromises and most often raise kids. In marital circles, it is an accomplishment. In unmarital circles, OK, in my unmarital circle, a decade of parenting?alone, without the relationship part?is not an accomplishment. It is a Sisyphean feat. It is like jogging to Uzbekistan. Or deciphering the human genome. I am going to buy a ruby and bake it into a cake and forget that I did it and give it to myself. Surprise! Happy anniversary!

Ten years ago, I was not as ebullient, fearing the logistics, mainly, of my new arrangement?making house payments, changing filters in the attic, getting to soccer practices and ballet without splitting my body in half surgically. The apprehension was warranted; the details have been hard. I worried less, though, that my two daughters, now teenagers, would grow up as well as they would have had a proper father lived in their house. Now, I see that they have grown up with so much more. More than, I daresay, their peers from two-parent families have. Hence, the ruby in the cake.

The author and her kids celebrate another year

Courtesy Pamela Kripke.

Kids of unmarried parents, according to all of those studies (of rich moms and poor, educated moms and not-so), are supposed to be failures. They are supposed to abuse drugs, get pregnant, and end up in prison rather than grad school. One-fourth of them are supposed to experience the kind of emotional havoc that renders them useless forever. There is of course no data suggesting that these particular kids might have had similar paths regardless of the number of adults sleeping down the hall. But beyond that there is also the beauty that emerges from the strain, the impediments, even the sometimes terrifying knowledge that their parents might fail them. No single mom wants to fail them?provide less, teach less, support less, be less?but it is in our minds that we might. So we struggle, and over the long term, we impart to our children that struggle can be good. This is something they know intimately.

First, the easy lessons: money. Work hard for it. Save it. Choose what to spend it on. My kids have seen me write for a living at home, tutor, teach classes, and sew purses at the kitchen table so that I could be available to them after school. They know that I could earn more as a ?regular? employee, but they?ve figured out how to assess the value of each option and of other things. They never ask for anything that costs a lot. They thank me for making dinner each night. When they were in elementary school, they put $124.58 in an envelope and gave it to me. It was everything that they had saved. I took one of the dollars and wrote on it: ?This is my birthday present from my wonderful daughters who are selfless and sincere and my very special comrades.? I gave the rest back to them and told them not to ever worry. The bill is in a frame on a bookshelf by my desk.

Source: http://feeds.slate.com/click.phdo?i=3593e6b315ee250badab05ded173f5a9

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