Connect with us

Substacks

The Benefits of Being a Young Mom Liz Wolfe

Published

on

The author and her son at home. (All photos by Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The Free Press)

In February last year, while hiking in California’s Yucca Valley, I realized I was probably pregnant. 

I was 25 years old and had hoped to have more time to travel and write and get lost in the desert among the agaves, far away from my home in New York City, before having a baby. But the plus sign on my pregnancy test indicated that those plans would be cut short—and I’d need to craft new ones fast.

My husband and I had been married for three years, and we would have preferred to save more money before starting a family. But there was no question we were going ahead. I am staunchly pro-life, and though our child was unplanned, he was definitely wanted.

In normal-person terms, 26 isn’t a very young age for a first-time mom. But Brooklyn, where I live, is proudly not the land of normal people. After my son was born in October, I went searching for a new social circle in an attempt to make friends with other new moms like me. 

I found a group in tony Park Slope, 10 subway stops from my neighborhood, Bedford-Stuyvesant. The mothers have been kind, but almost all are a decade older. They’re also more professionally successful than me by a mile. 

But while their organizational abilities and propensity to research and plan have served them well in their careers, my few months of motherhood have taught me that babies seem unimpressed with these skills. Raising a new life is a realm where intuition reigns, chaos ensues, and no success is ensured by having completed hours of research.

Being a young mom has also insulated me from some of these older moms’ anxieties. In fact, having less money might also mean fewer problems—or at least fewer choices to ruminate over—as well as a greater resignation to circumstances. My son sleeps in a closet, which up until a few weeks before his birth housed my husband’s surfboard (he’s not a professional surfer, he’s in tech). 

When I was pregnant, I did not go overboard buying stuff I couldn’t afford, despite the targeted ads that attempted to convince me that parental sleeplessness could be alleviated by a weighted sleep sack for baby ($89), or that my little guy’s motor skills could be honed with a $69 shape-sorter.

Well-off Brooklynites believe certain things ought to be in place before they start “trying.” A room for the child; a sturdy grip on a top rung of the career ladder; a neighborhood with good schools; superlative emotional maturity. I admittedly had none of those things locked down. But most generations that came before didn’t either.

My grandmother raised her first at 18, in a trailer, which she remembers fondly since it offered more space than she’d ever had before, having grown up in a large, poor, Catholic family in German-immigrant Kansas. 

My mom, who had me at 22, worked as a nanny for other people’s children when I was a baby, bringing me to work with her in St. Louis, where we were living so my dad could finish school. She had a few rules for kid-raising: no need to go to the doctor for most things (better to wait and see if a malady resolves on its own); a cardboard box from the garage makes for the most thrilling play; and babies can—and should—be brought practically anywhere. In 1997, she took me to Lilith Fair. And who can blame a 23-year-old for wanting to go to a feminist music festival?

I’ve concluded that the baby-rearing confidence of these earlier generations was partly ingrained, partly passed down, and partly the result of lean times leading to inventiveness. But their cheerful, relaxed attitudes are not shared by most moms I encounter today.

At 26, I represent the national average of first-time motherhood. In San Francisco, first-time mothers are on average about 32. In Zapata County, Texas, along the Rio Grande, the average is a low of just under 21. Generally, the more women have access to education and careers, the fewer children they have and the later they get started. As The New York Times reports, “Women with college degrees have children an average of seven years later than those without.” 

For a population to remain stable, the replacement rate is 2.1 children per woman. The U.S. is now at less than 1.8. This puts us on par with many other developed nations that have seen plummeting fertility rates over the decades. Many cultural critics point to the population implosion of Japan, where deaths have outpaced births for the last decade, and where an increasingly elderly population expects to depend on the taxes generated by grandchildren who were never born. 

In the U.S., women putting off child-rearing to later in life means that in some cases they won’t have the number of kids they desire, or that it will be harder for them to conceive the children they do want. (The U.S. has also seen a welcome decline in teen pregnancy rates, which are at an all-time low.)

But my concern is less the fertility rate, and more the cultural script that accompanies having children, which leaves professionally successful moms high and dry. Despite living in a time and place of such extraordinary abundance—of products, of experts, of information—their anxiety seems to be soaring. 

I can’t help but wonder if this fear has an effect on when people want to have children and how many they desire.

Take this comment posted by one mom to my Park Slope-based group chat at six in the morning. 

“Question about solids,” she asked. “How many times a day/week are you giving them?”

A litany of highly specific regimens followed—three meals a day by seven months; at least two consistent feedings every day if they’re six months or older; purees first; purees never; a chart about how many solids should be introduced to a breastfed baby by age. Three moms expressed how anxious they were about whether their babies were eating the correct amounts on the correct timeline.

Of course, the devoted and thoughtful mothers in my group are just surveying their digital “village” to make sure they’re doing okay. But every time I peek at the chats and forums, I wonder: Why are moms so anxious? Whatever happened to the time-honored tradition of winging it? 

I’ve been trapped in conversations with moms obsessing over the best nursing pillow or electric breast pump. I’ve heard all about the virtues of the Uppababy Vista V2 ($1,000) vs. the Uppababy Ridge ($600) vs. the Nuna MIXX ($800)—strollers that look engineered by scientists, designed for lunar exploration. 

I can see how the impulse to optimize everything is borne out of the belief that these executives-turned-mothers can perfect their son or daughter’s childhood. But so often the underlying theme is fear. 

Consider the Owlet, a baby sleep monitor that retails for $300. The app, which uses “predictive sleep technology” to tell you when the next nap is needed, is hooked up to the “dream sock” that monitors the baby’s heart rate, alerting parents if there are signs of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS)—a terrible yet rare event that can occur while a baby is sleeping. Though the company got in trouble with the FDA for marketing the Owlet as an anti-SIDS technology despite not having secured proper classification, it was a great sales pitch: pay us $300 and we’ll give you a device that can alert you in the middle of the night if the baby stops breathing. 

While hanging out with these older mothers, I have come to understand the origin of some of the fear and anxiety. Many have gone through expensive fertility treatments and suffered repeat miscarriages. When it takes three years and $40,000 of IVF to get pregnant, and when the hardships are so numerous that you’re pretty sure you’ll have to be one and done, regardless of your dreams, I can see why they feel extra pressure to do it all “right.” 

My situation in some ways feels liberating. I’ve quickly learned the nuts and bolts of baby tending. I have the energy to work like a dog, waking up early to write or prepare for TV hits, to make up for the fact that much of my week is occupied by baby needs. The tight spacing of the generations in my family fosters closeness. I feel like I watched my parents grow up and hope my own son will enjoy the same experience—and one day even find his closet bedroom comedic.

(Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The Free Press)

Many women of my generation think they should start having children only once they’ve become a fully-fledged person. But it’s never clear when that completion sets in. And it’s frequently sabotaged by our inability to ever feel like we have enough—enough money, enough free time, enough patience.

And ultimately, the pursuit of reaching these goals is futile because—even if you finally become a fully-formed adult—having a baby will unmoor you with a new love that is so overwhelming and self-sacrificial and all-consuming it fundamentally changes who you are. 

Children aren’t trophies you get for having completed your “becoming.”

Having my son when I did has given me the unexpected gift of the inability to overthink, to overbuy, to overplan. In doing so, I hope to follow the example of the generations who came before me, who raised resilient kids during tough times, with less gear and more grit.

Liz Wolfe is a writer at Reason. This is her first piece for The Free Press. Follow her on Twitter (now X) @LizWolfeReason

Read Martin Gurri’s incisive essay on population decline here.

And to support our mission of bringing you smart perspectives on the culture, become a Free Press subscriber today:

Subscribe now

 

Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Substacks

Are U.S. Airlines ‘Playing Into Iran’s Game’? Jay Solomon

Published

on

By

For most of the past year, none of the three major U.S. carriers—United Airlines, American Airlines, or Delta—have flown to Israel. (Photo by Jack Guez via AFP)

Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, defines his campaign against Israel as being won as much through economics and psychological coercion as through victories on the battlefield. And nearly a year into the Jewish state’s war with Hamas, Iran’s military proxy in the Gaza Strip, Khamenei’s strategy appears to be advancing—with an assist from the U.S. airline industry.

For most of the past year, none of the three major American carriers—United Airlines, American Airlines, or Delta—have flown to Israel, citing the Gaza war and the security threats posed by Tehran and its military allies. And none of these airlines have offered definitive time frames for when their flights might resume. This has left Israel’s national carrier, El Al, as the only direct connection between the country and its closest ally and economic partner on the other side of the world, and has sent airfares between the U.S. and Israel skyrocketing.

In recent days, the cost of a round trip economy flight to Tel Aviv from New York on El Al is around $2,500, according to Israeli travel agencies, up from around $899 before October 7, 2023. United, American, and Delta previously all had at least one daily flight to Israel from New York or Newark, and together served Israel three times a week from Boston, Dallas, Miami, Chicago, and Washington D.C.

The suspension of the American flights is feeding into the economic and diplomatic isolation that Iran’s leaders are seeking, according to Israeli political and business leaders. “The American carriers are playing into Iran’s game,” said Eyal Hulata, who served as national security adviser to two Israeli prime ministers, Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid, from 2001–2003. 

Jerusalem’s allies in Washington are urgently seeking to establish clearer U.S. government guidelines for when U.S. airlines should halt traffic to Israel, and when it can resume. If not, they warn, American carriers risk bolstering, even unwittingly, the economic coercion that Iran and Israel’s critics in the West are pursuing, often under the banner of the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions movement, or BDS.

“In my view, unless there’s an objective process put in place to prevent the politicization of air travel, I predict that in the future the BDS movement will try to weaponize air travel as a new means of boycotting Israel,” U.S. Rep. Ritchie Torres (D-New York) told The Free Press. “And a travel ban has the potential to be the most potent weapon in BDS’s war against the Jewish state.”

Torres wrote the presidents of American, Delta, and United in August asking them to map out the guidelines they followed in deciding to suspend their routes to Israel. None of the three airlines issued an official response to Torres’ letter, and his staff says they have communicated with the U.S. carriers’ government affairs teams, but didn’t disclose the result of these discussions.

Current and former Israeli officials told The Free Press they’re particularly confused by the U.S. airlines’ decisions as a number of Middle Eastern, African, and European carriers are currently flying to Tel Aviv despite these security threats. That includes three airlines from the United Arab Emirates—Etihad Airways, FlyDubai, and Wizz Air Abu Dhabi—whose government only normalized diplomatic relations with Israel in 2020 as part of the Trump administration’s Abraham Accords. These pacts seek to integrate Israel economically and diplomatically into the wider Arab world. 

“They should fly to Israel exactly like the Gulf countries and others do,” said Hulata, the former national security adviser. “And if they don’t do this because they are scared of rockets, then there’s something fundamentally wrong in their decision making.”

Hulata, who now serves as a senior fellow at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies in Washington, added: “There hasn’t been a rocket anywhere close to the airport for months.”

Passengers scan the departures board at Ben Gurion Airport on September 2, 2024. (Photo by Ameer Abed Rabbo/Anadolu via Getty Images)

The three major U.S. carriers initially halted air travel to Israel last October 7 after Hamas militants crossed the country’s southern border and slaughtered 1,200 people, mostly civilians. The airlines’ decisions weren’t ordered, however, by the U.S.’s airline regulator, the Federal Aviation Administration. The FAA only cautioned American carriers against flying to Israel at the time. 

The FAA’s position was actually much more restrained than in the summer of 2014. Then, Hamas rocket strikes close to Israel’s Ben Gurion Airport—the primary international hub near Tel Aviv—caused the airline authority to briefly suspend all outbound U.S. flights. Israeli officials were incensed, arguing the ban amounted to an assault on the country’s economy. American supporters of Israel, including former New York mayor Michael Bloomberg, flew to Tel Aviv on El Al flights to show solidarity.

The three U.S. airlines have said in public statements that their decisions on Israel are tied solely to the security threats posed to their crews and passengers. United and Delta briefly resumed flights to Tel Aviv in June, but then suspended them in August in the wake of the assassination of Hamas’s political leader, Ismail Haniyeh, in Iran—an attack Tehran blamed on Israel and vowed to avenge. 

The Iranian military and its proxies launched a barrage of missiles and drones at Israel in April in response to an Israeli strike on an Iranian compound in Syria. But they were almost all intercepted by Israel, U.S., European, and Arab air defenses. The Israel Defense Forces and Pentagon remain on high alert for another Iranian reprisal. 

At present, Delta says its flights remain canceled through October 31; American Airlines cites March 2025 as a potential resumption date; and United Airlines says its services to Israel remain on hold indefinitely. “Our flights to Tel Aviv remain suspended—we look forward to resuming flights as soon as it’s safe for our customers and crew,” a United spokesperson told The Free Press.

American declined to comment and Delta said it is “continuously monitoring the evolving security environment and assessing our operations based on security guidance and intelligence reports and will communicate any updates as needed.”

This travel ban has forced Americans needing to go to Israel to either pay higher El Al fares or find more time-consuming routes through Europe. One U.S. defense expert who needed to meet Israeli security officials in Jerusalem this month to discuss the Iranian threat told The Free Press it took weeks to arrange a flight. No seats on El Al flights were available, and he eventually went via Paris on Air France. “It’s stunning how hard it was to get there,” he said. 

Still, the outspokenness of a number of U.S. airline unions against travel to Israel has raised concerns among members of Congress and the Israeli government that politics may also be factoring into the flight ban. 

A day after the October 7 attack, the president of the Allied Pilots Association, Captain Ed Sicher, ordered the union’s 16,000 members to refuse any requests from American Airlines to fly to the Jewish state. “As noted in APA’s initial update yesterday regarding the safe evacuation of working American Airlines crewmembers from Tel Aviv, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has announced that the country is now ‘at war.’ The Israeli security cabinet weighed in today, declaring that the country is in a ‘state of war,’ ” he wrote APA members. “Until further notice, if you are scheduled, assigned, or reassigned a pairing into Israel, refuse the assignment by calling your Chief Pilot or IOC Duty Pilot.”

In February, the Association of Flight Attendants-CWA joined six other major American unions in calling for a formal U.S. ban on military supplies to Israel until Netanyahu agrees to a cease-fire with Hamas. “It is clear that the Israeli government will continue to pursue its vicious response to the horrific attacks of October 7 until it is forced to stop,” reads the statement from the AFA-CWA and six other unions. The spokeswoman for the AFA-CWS, Taylor Garland, has also regularly posted and reposted items on social media demanding a Gaza cease-fire and criticizing the military tactics of the Israel Defense Forces.

Garland and the AFA-CWA declined to respond to numerous requests from The Free Press to comment on Israel and whether the organization backs a U.S. flight ban if the Netanyahu government doesn’t agree to a cease-fire with Hamas. Other airline unions, trade associations, and pilots, however, downplayed the idea that politics were driving decisions, but rather cited security and basic economics. A number noted that insurance costs for the U.S. carriers rise in conflict zones, while the overall demand for flights decrease. Also, the length of U.S. flights to Israel require overnight stays for American pilots and crews, something that’s not normally an issue for European or Middle East carriers. 

“Our number one concern as pilots, no matter where we’re flying—it doesn’t have to be to Tel Aviv, it can be to Toledo—it’s got to be safe and secure,” said Dennis Tajer, spokesman for the APA. “We didn’t make that call, but American Airlines did. Oftentimes, they will bring in a third layer, and that’s commercial interests.” 

One pilot from a major U.S. carrier told The Free Press he regularly signs up to fly to Tel Aviv when the ban appears set to be lifted. But then the airline again cancels, following a new security assessment. “It hurts us financially, but the decision is really down to our security department,” said the airman.

The suspension of U.S. flights to Israel has contributed to a broader shock to the Israeli economy since the war with Hamas erupted last October. Israel’s calling up of 360,000 reservists after the Hamas attack, roughly 4 percent of the population, has placed a particular strain on the economy. The country’s growth contracted 1.4 percent during the second quarter of 2024 from the year earlier, according to Israel’s Central Bureau of Statistics, and its exports of goods and services dropped 8.3 percent. The Israeli economy experienced a double-digit contraction in the months directly preceding the Hamas attack. 

“Aviation has a big impact on our country because we’re like an island,” said Professor Nicole Adler, dean of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem’s Business School. “I know that we have Syria and Egypt and so on around us. But most traffic is coming in via airlines, and it’s very sad that this war has gone on for as long as it has.”

Since October, Iran and its proxies across the region have made no secret of their desire to constrict international trade and passenger traffic going into and out of Israel. According to Iranian officials, this will both drain Israel’s economy and impose a psychological toll on the broader populace. 

Much of Tehran’s efforts have centered on the Red Sea, where the Iranian-backed Houthi militia has launched hundreds of attacks on tankers and other maritime vessels transiting through the Suez Canal—some on their way to Israel. Just this month, the Yemeni militants launched six missile strikes on international maritime traffic, including on Panamanian- and Saudi-flagged oil tankers.

On Sunday, the Houthis successfully launched a long-range missile at central Israel for the first time. Israeli defense officials said their air defense system largely destroyed the projectile, though some fragments landed on agricultural land and near a railway station. 

This, combined with the reduced air traffic, has prompted self-congratulatory comments from Iranian officials, including Ayatollah Khamenei, that their multifront war against the Jewish state is working. Since becoming Iran’s Supreme Leader in 1989, the 84-year-old cleric has made clear that the path toward liberating Palestine will be achieved as much through making Israel unlivable to its Jewish residents as through open warfare. 

“Four million people will leave Israel. [This means] reverse migration,” Khamenei told a television audience during a June 3 speech marking the death of the Islamic Republic of Iran’s founder, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. “In other words, the level of perplexity, confusion, and panic among Israeli officials has reached this degree. Pay attention to this! This is very important!”

Jay Solomon is an investigative reporter for The Free Press and author of The Iran Wars. Follow him on X at @jaysolomon, and read his last piece “How Close Is Iran to the Bomb?

To support more of our work, become a Free Press subscriber today:

Subscribe now

The Free Press earns a commission from all qualifying purchases made through book links in this article, including as an Amazon Associate. 

 

Continue Reading

Substacks

To the Woman Who Trashed Me on Twitter Kat Rosenfield

Published

on

By

“Why does the political landscape feel like high school?” asks Kat Rosenfield. (Mean Girls 2004, Entertainment Pictures/Alamy Stock Photo)

Back when Donald Trump was last running for election, as the Great Awokening made its speech-chilling sweep through the American media, a small number of writers and public intellectuals admitted to not being entirely onboard with the new orthodoxy of privilege checking, sensitivity reading, racial affinity groups for 8-year-olds, and so on. These people were, depending on who you ask, either very brave or very stupid.

In public, and especially on Twitter, this cohort became objects of loathing and derision, excoriated by peers for refusing to “read the room.” But behind the scenes, we were inducted into a weird little priesthood of the unorthodox—mostly via Twitter DMs, which served as a sort of backchannel confessional for fellow writers who agreed that things appeared to be going off the rails, but were too afraid of being canceled to admit as much on main.

The first time I received one of these messages, it was from a woman named Jane. She was a colleague—we both had permanent freelance gigs at the same online teen magazine—and wanted me to know that she shared my concerns about the increasing hostility to free expression in progressive spaces. 

“I’m trying to tell myself every day that this censorship, hypersensitivity etc is the natural exuberance of a new movement still feeling out its own limitations,” she wrote to me once, early on. “I spend so much time every day now wondering if my peers *actually* want to suspend the 1st amendment or are just angry/emotional/posturing.”

Jane would pop into my DMs every time a new censorship controversy erupted in our little corner of the internet, which is to say, we chatted frequently. When I wrote my first investigative feature about how the world of young adult fiction had been overtaken by campaigns to shame and censor authors in the name of diversity, she sent me effusive praise; when she worried aloud about her career, I offered advice and sent her leads on paid writing opportunities. When she wanted to vent about cancel culture, she always started by apologizing. She hated to burden me, she said; she just didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

Five years later, I had just published an article about the Covid-era campaign to eject Joe Rogan from Spotify when my friend Zac sent me one of those messages that almost invariably means someone is talking shit about you online: “Sorry,” he wrote,but I thought you should probably know about this.” When I clicked on the link he’d sent, I discovered that I was being mocked via screenshot by a prominent podcaster who has always hated me for unknown reasons; what Zac wanted me to see was one of the first replies.

“I used to work with this person,” it read. “She was not always like this, but this particular strain of contrarianism is like heroin—there are very few casual users.”

The writer of this comment was Jane.

I thought of this incident recently while reading Kat Timpf’s book, which came out last week, I Used to Like You Until. . .  A reflection on, per the subtitle, How Binary Thinking Divides Us, the book’s opening chapters are dedicated to describing the social liabilities of being employed at Fox News, where Timpf is a regular panelist on the late-night talk show Gutfeld! Her politics are more libertarian (small L) than conservative, and her brand of commentary more Phyllis Diller than Bill O’Reilly (she also does stand-up comedy), which makes her a bit of a misfit—if not on Fox News itself, then certainly in the minds of people who equate the network with a particular brand of shouty, Trumpy Republicanism.


Read more

 

Continue Reading

Substacks

September 14, 2024 Heather Cox Richardson

Published

on

By

 

Continue Reading

Shadow Banned

Copyright © 2023 mesh news project // awake, not woke // news, not narrative // deep inside the filter bubble