The Institution of Motherhood

the patriarchy’s impact on the mother

Every mother I know has had moments, if not long chapters, within her motherhood journey that could be described as feeling powerless, often followed by an intense bout of maternal rage. Discussing these feelings often seems impossible—as though we are waging the love we have for our children against these darker, more complicated, often inexplicable feelings. Multiple truths don’t feel possible within the realm of motherhood, so we swallow these complexities whole and blame ourselves. Drowning in guilt, we assume that “I,” the individual, is the “problem.” But what if there’s a larger issue at play, one that every mother experiences, regardless of class and race,* and one that surpasses our own individual experiences and points to a much darker and more serious issue? 

In Of Woman Born, written in 1986, feminist writer Adrienne Rich exposes the patriarchy’s impact and control over motherhood. She distinguishes between two meanings of motherhood: 

1) the potential relationship a woman has between her reproductive powers and her children 

2) the institution which aims at ensuring that potential remains under male control

Rich calls the latter “the machinery of institutional violence wrenching at the experience of motherhood.” In other words, mothering is the act of being a mother, whereas motherhood, in this particular society, is defined as one under patriarchal control, and therefore deeply oppressive to women. For many, mothering can be a source of power, but motherhood—as an institution—is a site of patriarchal oppression. 

“The patriarchy would not survive without motherhood and heterosexuality in their institutional forms.” – Adrienne Rich 

This concept might seem rather vague to understand at first—at least it was for me. But as Rich went through her countless examples (many of them listed below), I found myself nodding along. My body filling with rage, reading example after example. 

Here are some of the examples:  

• Laws regulating contraception and abortion (political power over reproduction)

• The cavalier marketing of dangerous birth-control devices

• Marriage as economic dependance 

• The concept of an “illegitimate” child

• The denial of unpaid work done by women at home 

• The inadequacy of child-care

• Unequal pay mothers receive at work

• Midwives stripped of their authority only to be replaced by male OBs

• The solitary confinement of “full-time motherhood”

• The impact and difference of raising sons and daughters within this system

• The nature of fatherhood which gives him rights and privileges with minimal responsibilities 

• The burden of emotional labor 

Oof. Makes more sense now, right?

The act of mothering is not to be confused with the institution of motherhood. 

When we think of institutions, we can usually see it in the form of a building (examples: the Vatican, the White House, etc). “When we think of the institution of motherhood, no symbolic architecture comes to mind, no visible embodiment of authority, power, or of potential or actual violence,” Rich writes. “When we think of motherhood, we think of the home” — and naively, we like to believe the home is a private space, not the embodiment of the institution of motherhood itself. 

When we think of motherhood, we think of Pinterest-board mothers in white linen dresses frolicking through green fields with their children and perhaps a few ducklings. We’re not supposed to think of a woman concealing her pregnancy so she can work longer, a woman with a prolapsed uterus, a mother being stuck in the depths of postpartum depression, or a mother hysterically crying in her car after dropping off her eight week old at daycare. While these are the realities of motherhood within our current society, these are not the images of motherhood the institution likes to disclose.

When we think of the hardships within the realm of motherhood, we think of the guilt, the physical burdens, the emotional taxation, the isolation, the rage. Having nowhere to direct blame, we point to ourselves (or worse, each other), and not the social (patriarchal) contracts we unknowingly sign when we become mothers. As Rich says, “We’ve accepted the stressors to the institution as though they were a law of nature” — as though they were our own, as though they are interchangeable with motherhood itself. 

When we think of fathers, the meaning of fatherhood remains elusive. We do not impose the same conditions and restrictions on them as we do mothers. In the movie Marriage Story, a divorce lawyer played by Laura Dern, shares a riveting monologue (sidenote: I can recite every word — it’s a weird flex) in which she says we (as a society) can accept an imperfect father, but we cannot accept an imperfect mother. “We can all say we want them [fathers] to be different, but on some basic level, we accept them,” she says to her client, played by Scarlett Johanson. And she’s right. While I will admit that (some) fathers have stepped up from previous generations, even if you have a “good one,” meaning a partner who shares the responsibility of parental duties, the burdens still placed on mothers are insurmountable. Fathers “help” in the act of parenting, and this is seen as an act of generosity. We thank them for their consideration, and digest the oppression whole. 

“The power of the fathers has been difficult to grasp because it permeates everything, even the language in which we try to describe it.” – Adrienne Rich 

When we think about how the institution of motherhood benefits fathers (and therefore, the patriarchy), I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both in a fit of rage. The large majority of male partners—including our own fathers, bosses, and coworkers etc.—are utterly oblivious to this concept. This system works for them—and it’s by design. We are not living in a world designed for mothers to thrive, but rather, we are being exploited, and even worse, controlled. The institution of motherhood directly impacts our mothering. Whether we like it or not, even under the most ideal conditions, most of us, if not arguably all of us, are not fully mothering on our own terms. We have been confined to the cages of motherhood (as in the institution), and it’s an attack on female consciousness, female creativity, and female potential. 

Most days, acknowledging all of the above feels defeating, like surrendering is our only option to this madness. For me, Rich’s feminist theory about motherhood within the patriarchy allows me to reframe the things I’ve adopted as my own personal qualms:

I realize my powerlessness as a mother is a symptom not of myself but of a cultural disease.

An oppressive machine has infiltrated motherhood, and therefore our psyche, and its impact is undeniable. When I now listen to young women doubt their desire for children, I am hearing, for the first time very clearly, a potentially different question: Do I want to be a mother under these conditions, under this oppression?

Ok, OOF. That was a lot to get through. Now onto the good news. Her book provides many solutions to consider, and it’s *a lot* more uplifting than the reality of all of the above. More importantly, her solutions (and my response to them) has essentially provided me with a blueprint of topics to discuss on this Substack. While some of it will be obvious, other thoughts will push the limits of our comforts. But this is how we move forward. As Rich asks in the book, 

“In the move away from powerlessness, toward what are we moving?”

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MARK YOUR CALENDARS — OUR FIRST MONTHLY EVENT (!!)

If all of this feels like *a lot* it’s because it is. And I wanna talk about it, WITH YOU! Get your Sharpie out and mark it on your calendar: Our very first OOM workshop will be March 23rd. More info coming soon!

1. (*Class and race absolutely impact the severity of the institution’s impact on motherhood, but one could argue that all mothers feel its grip on our freedom.)¹