Flowers in a Burning House

a reflection on Mother's Day in the US.

things were in fact, not fine.

Dear Friends,

Today is Mother’s Day in the United States. I’ve been ambivalent about this commercialized celebration of motherhood since elementary school. Since my own relationship with my mother has never been sunshine and rainbows, I experience a heightened sensitivity to the myriad of less-than-flowery feelings that Mother’s Day can bring up for some people.

This is my first Mother’s Day since becoming a mother myself. I’ve wondered if this would change the way I experience it; I contemplated how or if I would want to celebrate. Now that the day is upon us, I’ve come to the conclusion that I do not want flowers, and that Mother’s Day feels like a performative gesture meant to gaslight on a national level.

It’s one of the most commercially successful holidays in the US, with billions spent on florists, cards, gifts, dining, and other expenditures. Consumer spending on Mother’s Day is expected to reach $34.1 billion this year alone.

How can a culture so willing to capitalize on our celebration offer so little support?

The United States is the only high-income country that does not have guaranteed paid parental leave. We continue to have the highest maternal mortality rate of any developed nation, and we have more school shootings than all other nations combined.

We as a society have failed our mothers.

So while brunch and roses might be the traditional way to go, perhaps we should be spending the day re-examining why mothers are expected to create life in an environment that does not support it. Why our healthcare system is a national disgrace. Why we are living in a nation where bulletproof backpacks exist, and why we are more willing to profit off a mother’s love than ban assault rifles.

Things I want more than flowers:

1. Universal paid family leave: federally mandated paid leave for all parents for at least one year.

2. Universal healthcare: including maternity, postpartum, and pediatric care.

3. Reproductive rights: motherhood should be a choice.

4. Accessible mental health services: including routine screenings for postpartum depression and anxiety.

5. Affordable childcare & pre-k: government-funded childcare programs.

6. Affordable housing: safe, stable, and affordable housing options.

7. Gun reform: ban assault weapons now.

8. Cultural shift toward valuing care work: recognizing caregiving as essential labor that holds economic and social value.

9. Climate change policies: so that our children have clean air to breathe and a livable future.

Other countries have succeeded in all of the above and more, so why haven’t we? How can we say that our nation values motherhood when others are light-years ahead of us in terms of building infrastructure that reflects those values?

If we truly cared about mothers, we would be creating an ecosystem where they could actually succeed at nurturing rather than fight for survival. Instead, our government is exploring some weird pronatalist bullshit, like bestowing a “National Medal of Motherhood” to mothers with six or more children; an idea that is disturbingly unhelpful, and has roots in Nazi Germany. They’re also considering a $5,000 cash bonus for every child born, which is less than what I paid in health insurance and hospital bills while I was pregnant with Lumi.

Speaking of Lumi, she is pure magic. I love being her mom, and I want to celebrate being her mother. I wish I could believe this celebration of motherhood existed on a cultural and systemic level as well.

Here are some recent sketches of Lumi to add a bit of joy and levity to an otherwise bummer post:

Trying to sketch babies when they are awake is like figure drawing with a model that moves every second and changes positions constantly.

I’ll end this by professing that I actually love flowers. I enjoy giving and receiving them. But on Mother’s Day, until real changes are made in the way we support and affirm the work of mothers, I urge you to consider that you might be bringing a bouquet to a house on fire.

I hope that in this lifetime we can plant the seeds for a more sustainable future, something with the potential to grow and yield blooms long after we’re gone.

Love,
Melanie

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