Transcript

I’m Major Jackson and this is The Slowdown.

One of the horrors of the last century has to be the demonization of single mothers. Mother-only families have been blamed for everything from the breakdown of traditional morals in America to so-called “antisocial” behavior among youth, and everything in between. While economic survival in a single-parent home proves difficult for most, especially after the dismantling of federal support systems, the stories of single mothers inspiring their children abound. Famous athletes, federal judges, presidents—including Thomas Jefferson—and poets such as Amanda Gorman, were raised by devoted mothers who provided loving and supportive environments that instilled “can do” attitudes in their children.

At the center of the debate is women’s right to fully claim and control the narratives around their bodies, beyond societal mores and expectations.

Today’s poem broadcasts a necessary remembrance and mapping of our mother’s physical selves, bodies that perhaps not only gave us life, but in all their manifestations served as the source of our stability and gains.

An Open Call to Single Daughters of Single Mothers
by Katie Marya

Come  and  bring  your  mother’s  bodies:   bring   her  naked   body  and  her 
clothed  body,  the  body  she  had  in  the  kitchen  and  on   the  couch,  her 
walking  out  the  door  body  and  her  wake  up  body,  bring  her  tight jeans 
body,   her  cleaning   body,   bring   the  drive  you  to  school  body,   and  the 
day   job   body   in   beige   work  pants,   bring   her  bathing    suit  body,  her 
parallel parking body, her laughing body, her popcorn shovel mouth body—

don’t forget her brand new  nails body and  her discipline body—the do your 
homework   body,   her  packing  body,   her  jealous  and.  honest  body,   her 
vacation body,  her  long dress body  when you graduated from high school 
and   college,   bring   her  very  own  daughter  body,   the  bare  breast  body  
in  her  mirror  body,  bring  her  body in  the glass shower,  her sleeping body, 
her  sick   body — leave  Atlanta   first   home  fast   with  your  mother’s  body 
danger  the man danger  the stuck, you’ll want  to peel off  her bronzed skin, 
to hold her, for the rest of your life.

And  bring  the  materials  that  go  with  her  bodies:  the  white  linen  pants, 
rayon   multi- color  shirts,   green  spandex  dress,   leather  jacket,   bring all 
her  purses with  their  hangy purse  things,  bring  each piece of jewelry: the 
giant   costume  rings — the  one  shaped  like  a  dragonfly — and  the  glitter 
bangle bracelets,  bring the bedazzled baseball hats and the pile of strappy 
sandals,  her body sprays,  her cigarettes,  the pictures  of you  she keeps in 
her wallet, her Day-Timer, People magazines, and her cable TV box,

the  swimming  pool   she  bought   and  the   plastic  storage bin  full  of  your 
grade  school   stories,   grab  all   her  drinks:   the  Big  Gulp  Diet  Coke,   the 
McDonald’s   coffee.    Her  bodies   will  need   a  snack  —  a  cheeseburger, a 
whole  chocolate   pie.    Don’t  forget   her  vitamins   and  orange  juice,    the 
grilled  fish   and  asparagus.   Don’t   leave  any   of  her   bodies  behind,   pile 
everything  into   your  Toyota  Corolla,  give   her  travel  body  a  travel  pillow 
and get here as fast as you can.

“An Open Call to Single Daughters of Single Mothers” by Katie Marya from SUGAR WORK © 2022 Katie Marya. Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Alice James Books.