Disrespecting the Mother

Over a school-day breakfast, we discuss the felling of the tree at Sycamore Gap. My partner says they’ve arrested a sixteen year old boy. I tell him and my fifteen year old daughter that actually I read a post on facebook that said it was unlikely such a young person could have had the skills, the kit or the strength to cut down a tree like that, by themselves. I couldn’t remember much of the details but it was something to do with how the person who did it had sprayed on white paint as a guide and hammered in some kind of pegs…or wedges...not sure? But some kind of complex, tree-cutting-down-techniquey-system, right? I probably sounded pretty vague as I blearily slurped my 6.30am tea in my dressing gown.

The teenager and my partner exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. “Of course they could have done it”, my partner said, “They’ve arrested him.”

“Yeah mum you don’t need much skill to lop down a tree, it’s just an act of vandalism”, added the teen, who, as far as I know lacks the skills to deadhead a geranium but seemed confident about this.

“I’m pretty sure this facebook post was legit, some kind of tree expert”, I say.

“Facebook is full of ‘experts’” scoffs my partner. More eyerolling.

“You just have to make a big v-shaped cut in one side”, the 13 year old has weighed in too now. “Then you just push it and it falls in one direction”, she is saying.

I’m not listening any more. I feel old. Tired. Hurt. Yes, hurt. Like they are all ganging up on me. Mocking me. Do I need HRT?

Later I wonder why it bothered me so much that they all seemed to absolutely relish agreeing that what I had to say was stupid.

Then I remember this quote. It’s from a book called Radical Feminist Therapy by Canadian psychotherapist Bonnie Burstow. I’ve not read the book but I saw the quote floating around (probably on facebook too, ha), years ago, and it stopped me in my tracks.

“Often father and daughter look down on mother (woman) together. They exchange meaningful glances when she misses a point. They agree that she is not bright as they are, cannot reason as they do. This collusion does not save the daughter from the mother’s fate.”

The quote stuck with me because it flashed up a mirror to my own childhood, a quick, fast flash that made me catch my breath.

Ohhhh. This was what me and my dad would do, what we loved to do. It was some of the best fun we had - taking the piss out of my mum. Saying that what she said was silly. Laughing at her when she got stuff wrong or forgot things. Rolling our eyes. Taking the high ground and letting her be the fall guy. This probably sounds awful, but it didn’t seem so at the time. It was just a joke. And anyway, my mum laughed as well.

But this collusion did not save me from her fate.