It had that "untrained" quality and strong composition and touch of Van Gogh that appealed to me from an artist perspective.
But in the years that have passed since I bought the piece (for probably 10 bucks), I love the painting for a more personal reason. The story of becoming a mother. And how does one not look to Mary, the mother of God, to consider the call of being a mother.
So, this nativity scene has always been part of my understanding of being a mother. One cannot do it alone. A friend recently saw the painting and said the character looking down over Mary and the baby was an angel. I had honestly never thought of that. I had always seen it as another woman, another mother, a helper, a friend, an auntie, a care-taker of child or mother or both... And much of that is informed from my experience. The fact that the whole time I've raised children, I've had way more help and companionship of caretakers and other-mothers and family and ever-present hands to assist me than I would have as a mother in the U.S.
I've definitely journeyed (in my heart and mind) to come to terms with this reality in light of the fact that most of my American counterparts (in America and many who have come to Uganda) do not operate with ever-present assistance, and perhaps even find too much help a hinderance to good mothering.
On the other hand, many of my Ugandan neighbors and friends have always lived in a world of people of the house--some paid, some relatives, some friends, helpers, older children on holiday watching younger children, a neighbor, etc, etc. I remember distinctly a Ugandan sharing that when they went to the US for her husband to study, she arrived at their apartment in Chicago with two young children and she looked around and said, "oh, my heavens, where is my help?" And reading a Max Lucado to my children about Mary, the description and pictures of life in Nazareth would have been much more like Uganda. (Mary going to live with Elizabeth for three month, various family members around before, during, after, etc... not an exact history but a depiction that seems right from what I know). So for many traditional cultures, there is no way that one woman is alone in her house solely responsible for all manner of childcare, cleaning, hosting, working, etc, etc.
This physical and social reality that is so different in cultures and in history coincide with a psychological component of mothering that I feel is stark when I read American blogs and interact with many Americans about mothering. Competitiveness... When I have taught Henri Nouwen's Compassion, he makes the point that human nature is inherently competitive. But when i consider this topic of motherhood, I can't help but think that this competitive quality may be more true in Western countries, and perhaps most true in America.
I'm thinking it is somewhat intrinsically linked with the individuality vs. community-ality difference of personal identity. I'm generally a big fan of believing all individuals and cultures have an equal share of sins, follies, virtues, strengths, etc.... And one real consequence of our individualism is a certain competitive edge because most things are determined by ranking, status, success, efficiency, whatever measure makes you the "best" of something... While we love our families and our communities, most of us do not actually think of our security based in just "hanging out" with family.
A Ugandan friend of mine who has worked in tanzania and now zimbabwe was visiting with me and said, "ah, africa is all one big village". And while that is a broad statement, i think one thing she was identifying was an African sense that at the end of the day you always have family. Family always matters--for good and for ill. (This is a trait that I do think is more true in rural US or in Southern US).
But the sense of family being your defining orientation (not career, material gain, status in work place, uniqueness of contribution, etc, etc) is different enough that it does change how a mother understands her role with her children. Who is she "competing" against... her family is her family.
I will do more research on this but felt that as Christmas is passing, this artwork and the related reality of my mothering with a team, has been a gift to me. A complicated gift in that it merges different consciousnesses of myself-- an American individualist, a desperate American away from home and the things one copes with in home culture, an American supported by warm and loyal helpers, an American who is watching her children grow up and ever-establishing what different roles we all have with each other, an observer who is trying to reconcile the truth of different cultures and what joys and struggles we all face due to our cultural context and consciousness, etc, etc.
No comments:
Post a Comment