archiving-childhood

[archiving-childhood]

Comic Book Rental Store

Since 3rd or 4th grade, I was so obsessed to go comic book rental store which is a small place to rent out all kinds of comic books and videotapes for customers. My family occasionally went there for borrowing children's movies tapes but after then I went there by myself to borrow comic books. I went there whenever I earn pocket money by running small errands. (Buy tofu or vegetables for my mom) and sometimes I stood up beside the bookshelves and read the books sneakily. Most comic books were written by Korean and Japanese writers and artists having teenage romance themes. 

At the very first time, I rented comic books with mom’s permission (how many books I would rent) but getting older, I loved to read them so much and I lose my control to spend my money. For example, during summer vacation, I rented hundreds of comic books from the rental shop. I became a friend with the rental shop owner, and since he let me read comic books for free in the rental shop, the books I read would be over the hundreds.

After I attended middle school, comic books were still my big part of a hobby, but my mom didn’t allow it anymore. She thought reading comic books might distract academic studies and also I spent too much on renting the comic books. She tried to limit my time of reading comic books, but I was never let down by her. My strategies were to bring them sneakily in my jacket and put them underneath the bed for a while. I remember my mom caught the fact I rented comic books again and she warn me several times. Finally, one time, she was so furious and rip off the comic books. I cried a lot because I worried if I couldn’t go to the rental store near my home if I couldn’t compensate for damaged books. (My dad helped to compensate them)

This is a story about my rebellious childhood. Someone said my generation, who are born in the 90s, was blessed because we were experienced a retro vibe and new digital age. Now people read comic books by computer and iPad. Still, I recall the smell of the old books, the mood of the small comic book, and the charming bell was ringing when customers came into the store. The places and memories give me nostalgia feelings and bring back to the 90s. 

[archiving-childhood]

Who is Missing?: My Dad

For wrapping up with my artifact of childhood, I realize many of my narratives are related to only my mom. I realized one person who is one of the most important people in my life was missing, my dad during my childhood. This is because he wasn’t there with us, or he didn’t take any important role/position in my childhood story. (not participating in our conversation and just driving something like that)

Because of the core Confucian values that shaped the normality of the Korean family lifestyle, Men earn the living, and women take care of the house and children. Like another traditional Korean household, he has taken his duties to support my family. My dad worked 6 days a week from 6 am to 7 or 8 pm (depends on what he did/where he went to work). He was a fork crane driver in the civil engineering and construction field. He wasn’t doing severe physical labor, but he had to sit in the fork crane for over 10 hours without A/C during summer and without a heater during harsh cold weather. I remember when my mom made dinner when he arrived, I ran out and greet him so badly. 

In the mid-2000s, there are social issues around Korean dad figures. Since most dads in a household couldn’t participate in their children’s early lives, when children became teenagers, father-his children relationship couldn’t be close and sometimes make a huge gap between them. In the case of my family, my dad and my brother had a hard time understanding each other. I and my dad are still very close because when I attended middle school, he lost his job and spent more time with me for several years. (pick up and drop off or went grocery shopping together) He is always be my back as a secret supporter.  

Very few memories with my dad always made me emotional. I couldn’t articulate them because it is too short, but it is impressive. Like dancing with him after dinnertime or riding a motorcycle to go a small hill. It is very random. I was thinking about what he lost for having a family at an early age, why his life would be so self-sacrifice, and how he handled them.

[archiving-childhood]

Last Artifact...Promise

When I was in Kindergarten, I remember watching our elementary school talent show and wanting to participate...I nagged my parents for months about when the next one would be. Once the 1993-1994 elementary school calendar was released, and I found the talent show date, I made my song selection. "Waterfalls" by TLC was my favorite song and that was my selection - I rehearsed the song and the dance non-stop for months. Once it came time for the audition in front of the music teacher, vice principal, and 5th grade teacher, 6-year-old me got up there, with my Tweety hoody on over stirrup pants and sang and danced my heart out. 

The rest of the elementary school would never get to see or hear me perform this song because they three audition judges had a very troubling conversation with my parents about the "appropriateness" of the song selection - they told me I could perform in the talent show...just not that song. (Apparently "Waterfalls" is about HIV)

I am reminded of Garlen's piece and then entire week we discuss childhood innocence - Garlen explains the, "desire to prolong children's unawareness of social realities by censoring topics such as sexuality, death, violence, and poverty that constitute forms of 'difficult knowledge'" (Garlen, J. 2019). Little first grader me had no idea what the song was about, I just loved the song and the dance (and still do). What were they protecting me from? And why were my parents judged so harshly?

The kicker was two years later, they let two third grade girls (who happen to have a tint... lol...melanin) sing, "No Scrubs" by TLC in the talent show. ("No Scrubs" is about a woman who doesn't want a dead beat as her partner). 

Coming fully circle, and reflecting on Freidus' piece and the statistics that black girls are habitually treated older than they really are, I have to ask myself, "so which childhoods are worth being protected?" What message does this send to little elementary school me? What message does that send those two girls? Our parents? Our community?  

Citation:

Garlen, J. C. (2019). Interrogating innocence: “Childhood” as exclusionary social practice. Childhood, 26(1), 54–67. https://doi.org/10.1177/0907568218811484

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Neoliberal Girlhood

Week 6/7 readings have made me super reflective. My essay submission to get into the masters program at UNT focused on my first trip I took to Tijuana, Mexico. Every spring break, my ungrad. university took a service trip to Tijuana, Mexico to help build houses for families who qualified for the Esparanza International program. In 2009, I took my first trip down to build houses and met a little girl named Raya. She was maybe seven or eight years old and was always hanging around while we were working on her new house. One day I asked her why she didn't go to school like her older brother and sister did and she said her family couldn't afford to send her. 

My exchanges with her and the overarching narratives / values of education and this "neoliberal girlhood" Desai centers her article around, made me want to help Raya. So I enrolled in some teaching courses and declared a minor in Teaching English as a Second Language. 

I think if I talked to Raya today, 13 years later, I don't know if she'd define her childhood by what I saw as "lacking". I know that having that TESOL minor added to my degree has done very little (globally) to change the #62milliongirls that aren't seeking an education.

So, I guess I'm just reflecting at this point because on one hand, I can see how this "bootstraps" and "neoliberal girlhood" narrative has impacted me, personally, during my childhood, but then I think of Raya and wonder if these same narratives impacted her as well - or are we just creating a set of narratives for others because we don't respect or understand the values or realities they have in their lives? I don't want to feel guilty for feeling motivated to want to help (because, as the article said, empathy is a good thing) but I don't want to fall into the neoliberal, "Global North Savior" trap either. It's all still kind of percolating in my brain and I want to process it more, so I apologize for these fragmented thoughts. 

Citation:

Desai, K. (2019). Letting Girls Learn, Letting Girls Rise: Commodifying Girlhoods in Humanitarian Campaigns. Palgrave Studies on Children and Development, 63–84.

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The other night, I read a book to my son and remembered a particular book that my mom read me when I was a child. The book's name is "Pulgarcito" the story is about a child born prematurely, he was small in size, seven of 7 children, and his parents were struggling to keep food on the table for him and his siblings. The story tells that the little boy and his siblings went into the woods, looking for food and gold to help his parents. Pulgarcito uses all his strengths to navigate the woods and encounters an ogre to bring food back to his siblings. As a child, I remember being inspired by Pulgarcito's resilience and imagination to navigate the world he faced with living. 

As an adult, I became attracted to children's picture books; I enjoy seeing the illustrations and stories. More so, I'm always looking for the story behind the book. I like to know about the author's story and what brought them to write a particular story for children. Unfortunately, most children's books tend to be stories that are out of reality. Parents and teachers feel guilty about reading books that portray the reality of other children. And instead, present them books full of fantasy and imaginary stories to protect them from negative narratives. Garlen (2019) noted how the protective practices of adults on behalf of children restrict children's access to certain kinds of information, producing a particular childhood in need for adults to preserve the innocence childhood.

Garlen (2019), in her article about the "myth of the innocence childhood', describes how many parents to great lengths guard their children from sadness, stress, and even mild discomfort in the home and classroom, in a way to prolong children's unawareness of social realities (p.55). Educators and parents try to avoid topics such as deportation, death, violence, war, poverty, sexuality, etc. I pondered how different it would be if children could talk about any of these topics freely. How different will it be to give agency to children to interrogate these complex topics? The notion of the innocence childhood is so embedded in adults' minds that adults feel the need to create a utopic world for children. Which children are we exactly protecting?

Garlen, J. C. (2019). Interrogating innocence: “Childhood” as exclusionary social practice. Childhood, 26(1), 54-67.

  Anto

[archiving-childhood]

Art Class

When I attended school I loved spending time outside and in special areas basically whatever got me out of the classroom. My favorite place to go was the art room. I love the art projects that my teacher gave me and I took every one as a personal challenge. I enjoyed using my hands and creating something that I put my heart and soul into. In art class, I was able to create images and art that I did not see in libraries, history books, or posters that occupied the walls in the main hallway.

There were no rules or criteria that I had to follow. There were no right or wrong answers and I loved that. The freedom I had in art class was the only time of the day I could be myself completely and not worry about anyone telling me I was wrong. Art allowed me to go into a world where I was in control of what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it. Another huge part of my excitement of being in art class was that my art teacher loved everything that I created and encouraged me to do more at home and to visit her any time I could after school. She liked my company and I liked hers. I felt like she believed in me and valued what I brought to the classroom.

Assignments such as self-portraits and family portraits, or creating scenes from my everyday experiences allowed me to express myself. I felt pride in sharing the scenes from family holidays or moments in time that I managed to remember. Drawing my family and showing and sharing my life through art was such a meaningful experience. There were not many books that centered Black families therefore, I felt that I was filling a void and supplying my school with images they should have been seeing. In the course of my time in elementary, I had been the artist of the week numerous times for my drawings, weavings, and sculptures. I have had one of my pieces placed in a local art exhibit and I even won a t-shirt design competition. These different awards made me feel seen and valued in my school and community. I was able to create art that looked like me, tell my story, and be recognized for it. This feeling was priceless.

Sadly, I don’t draw anymore.

[archiving-childhood]

Community Engagement

Growing up in an East Austin housing project, the sense of community was strong, even though we may have been the undesirables of the city of Austin. All who lived in the community counted on each other to learn about new opportunities, resources, or just simple advice to aid them in reaching economic success.

My grandmother was the reason we all carried this belief. We would constantly see her help the church with food and clothing drives and, she even started an education scholarship to help Black high school students. I would witness most of the women in my family help the community that surrounded them and, most importantly, they would do what they needed to do to help the Black community in Austin. As I reflect on this time I remember the needs of the families that were our neighbors and the times I saw my mom help in any way she could. If she had to be a babysitter, make more food at dinner and supply someone with clothes for an interview she would do it. Seeing her philanthropy was an everyday occurrence and it inspired me to do the same. We took pride in our community and took care of those around us.

More specifically, as a child, I remember helping my Aunt cook a meal for us. After we finished eating, we made about three plates. We took those plates to the elderly in the neighborhood who we knew could use a hot meal. These acts of kindness also made me realize that even though I didn't have the latest fashion or the hottest new gadget, I should be thankful for the things I did have.

Above is a picture of students that I taught radio and communications to every Saturday. The show was called Below Zero and they would do a live radio show and report the latest news from a teen's perspective. We would have guest speakers, a monthly book review, participate in school drives and other community events. I have also organized community events such as food, clothing, and toy drives, Black history programs, talent shows, and resource fairs.

Because of the examples of those in my family, I love to be out in the community helping those who need it most.

[archiving-childhood]

When I was young I had the company of my five brothers and 1 cousin who was attached to my hip. Two of my brothers and I were together all the time and we enjoyed each other. However, when we started middle school and high school we began to migrate from each other and form friendships with boys and girls within our grade level. The schools that we all attended were majority Latino/Latina with little Black and white students mixed in here and there. As our friends started to have sleepovers for their birthdays and or just because they wanted to have friends over, my brothers and I were not in attendance, unless they were a Black family like ours.

When we were going up my mom would share stories of family and friends wanting to keep us or pick us up for extended periods and she would remind us that she would order them to “Put us down.” or tell them “ No, my baby can’t stay.” Looking back at this stance my mom had taken, I think that she did not trust anyone with us and she did not think that we would be safe with other adults she didn't know. Our safety was her main concern, and safety meant that we were not that far from her. Also, this could have been a choice derived from her own experiences. When she was a child her mom sent her to a camp with white counselors who cut her hair. This was of course a traumatic experience for her, she remembers crying and going through wigs while her hair grew back. I don’t think anything was filed against the camp. This is why she made sure that she knew the people around us and where we were all the time.

Because she shared these experiences with us, I don’t remember asking my mom to go to sleepovers. I was able to visit friends but I was expected to return home at a certain time. As I got older, she was able to meet the parents of my friends and this rule became relaxed. She soon made a compromise to the rule, thus, our house became the house where everyone would come to hang. This way she was able to keep up with us and we were able to enjoy our friends.

Today, as the news reports Black children and some Black adults are spending the night at houses or attending celebrations where they are the only Black person and not returning home. Now, I understand why my mom did what she did to keep us safe.

This type of safety measure is not a new one in the Black community, Black bodies have always been a place of experimentation of speciation for others. The Tic Toc I have attached to this shows a parent holding her sad child because a Black mom said that her child could not stay at her home. The mom took this as racism but this is a safety measure that many POC families have to consider.

Stories on this topic linked below:

No Charges Filed in Death of Black Mother at Sleep Over 

https://www.blackenterprise.com/no-charges-filed-in-re-investigation-of-black-mother-of-5-who-died-at-adult-sleepover/

Middle School Student Force to Drink Urine at Sleepover

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/black-middle-school-student-forced-drink-urine-bullying-incident-mother-n1259737

Henrietta Lacks was an African-American woman whose cancer cells were used and reproduced without her permission are the source of the HeLa cell line, the first immortalized human cell line and one of the most important cell lines in medical research.

https://www.npr.org/2010/02/02/123232331/henrietta-lacks-a-donors-immortal-legacy

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These past two weeks my social media has been filled with images of Ukrainian children and mothers. Any parent of a child who has spent time in the NICU (and likely those who haven’t) was gut-wrenched by the viral video of a nurse pumping oxygen for a NICU baby in a Ukrainian bomb shelter. Like every parent, I imagined my Lola being evacuated to a bomb shelter while hooked up to oxygen in the hours after her birth. I’ve paused multiple times this week to sit with my response to these images - What is my response to these images saying about how I view childhood? Was I responding differently because Lola spent time in the NICU on oxygen after her birth? What is society’s response saying about how the American people view childhood? About our thoughts on childhood in the Global North? About our thoughts on childhood in the Global South? What if the children and families shown didn’t have blue eyes and blond hair?

This conflict feels personal to me. Many of my friends and colleagues in Kazakhstan were Ukrainian and they are experiencing unfathomable heartache and fear. The images of children described above often appeared with captions on how to donate money to support Ukraine. Jason and I have talked about donating money - Is it because of our personal relationships? Or is it the images of “innocent children” that tear at our hearts? Ukraine is one of the poorer countries in the Global North but would our response be the same if it was part of the Global South? I’m reminded of the Save the Children images we saw at the beginning of the semester in a class lecture and the chapter by Desai (2019). What feelings are these images invoking? And, what is the purpose behind their usage?

In contrast to these images of children, my social media has also been filled with images of people of Color trying to evacuate from the Ukraine and stories of the racism and discrimination they are facing when trying to flee the Ukraine seeking asylum in other countries. A video that was particularly disturbing showed a young Black woman being refused entry onto an evacuation train. I’m not seeing this video reposted and circulated around social media. It hasn’t gone viral. It doesn’t have a caption attached that says how we can financially support evacuation measures…

Along with the above images, there is a Twitter post going around (pictured here) that has a quote from Ukraine’s President Zelensky, “I do not want my picture in your offices: the President is not an icon, an idol or a portrait. Hang your kids' photos instead, and look at them each time you are making a decision.” I’m still working through how this connects to the images going around and I haven’t quite figured out how to articulate my thoughts but his statement looks at building a “better” world for our children… And I think, what I’m grappling with right now, is that only certain children are being allowed entry into that “better” world…

[archiving-childhood]

We went to Dallas this past weekend and I sat sandwiched between Lola and Chimo in the back seat. Lola outlined The MVMT Lab’s logo on my sweatshirt saying, “Papa’s gym” and rubbed her hand over it. “Papa work. Papa’s gym. Coach Mason.” I was surprised by her recognition of the logo and realized that she had spent her whole life associating the logo on Jason’s gym shirts with him leaving the house to go to work. As she pinched and traced the logo, I sat quietly and thought about what work means to Lola…

Our bedroom is usually “off-limits” to Lola and Chimo on weekdays. Yesterday, as I recovered from food poisoning, I left the bedroom door open so that they could come and visit as they pleased. Lola immediately set herself up on Jason’s side of the bed - with her, she brought a Duplo Elsa, a Duplo Olaf, and a thermometer. She immediately collected my pile of green highlighters and set them beside her things. “Mommy’s work,” she said. She tapped the top of my computer, “Mommy’s ‘puter. Mommy’s work.” And then, she grabbed the highlighters tightly (perhaps scared I would try to take them away) and moved to my makeshift desk. She climbed up onto the chair and sat, “Mommy’s work.” Still gripping the highlighters, she leaned over and thumbed through the file holder next to the desk, repeating quietly, “Mommy’s work.” Again, I found myself amazed by the way that certain items in our house, certain spaces, represent work to Lola. And, with the concept of work, came the idea that she might be doing something “forbidden.”

Right before I Zoomed into my statistics class last night, Lola came into the bedroom again. This time, she saw Jason’s tuba sitting under our window. She went over and patted it, “Papa’s tu-baaa,” and perched on the side of its case. It reminded me of her reaction to playing the tubas with Jason - the way she hesitantly pushed the keys and was excitedly nervous to touch her lips to the mouthpiece. She had exhibited this same excitement and fear when she picked up my highlighters today. Lola��s understanding of work, perhaps due to her positionality, looks different than other children’s - she sees her mother as a graduate student, often working from home or attending class in the evenings, and her father as a gym owner and professional musician, working nontraditional hours and traveling for gigs.

In my first artifact, I wrote about Chimo’s little red cart and his role as a surprise co-worker in my work-from-home space. I reflected on what it means for work to be visible to young children. Now I’m thinking about how young children view work and make sense of what “work” is. The photo above is a photo that Chimo took on his camera. I’ve been “sitting” with it for a long time… Why did he choose to take a string of pictures of me working at the computer? What is he seeing? Experiencing? Wondering about? What do he and Lola understand about work? How is it that Lola, at age 2,3 already has ideas about the roles of adults and children? Thinking with Orellana (366), how might her concept of work change if we weren’t a white middle-class family? 

[archiving-childhood]

I spent some time looking at the activities that my son enjoys doing around the house. He likes to be part of any task my husband and I are doing. So, if we are in the kitchen, he pulls a chair and wants to help cook, clean or wash the dishes. He also enjoys playing with his toys, but he doesn't have many of them, to be honest. He spends a reasonable amount of time watching certain shows on an iPad that we let him use. I thought, how different is children's childhood born on the boom of technology. As a child, I never played with any technology because it didn't exist, so my experience with technology became later on in life when I was in high school.

Nowadays, young children own different kinds of technology devices such as Ipads, tablets, or cellphones at a very young age. They can choose from multiple options on shows to watch on different platforms such as YouTube kids. They watch other adults or children document their lives, promote toys, or tell stories. It is fascinating to see how children quickly move into different channels and enter into different worlds just in seconds.

Older kids tend to use more interactive platforms such as snapshot, Instagram, or tik tok, to communicate between them, document events, or as a way to entertain themselves. Influencers are a big part of these platforms; they often create stories to engage followers and have more publicity. This week, I spent some time thinking about how technology has shifted childhood? How does social media influence the construction of different childhoods? Which childhood do the influencers of this children's show portray as "normal childhood"? How do they contribute to shaping their identities? How the shows that young children watch help to construct their childhood?

[archiving-childhood]

Global South Childhood

This week's readings led me to review humanitarian campaigns about children. My thoughts immediately took me to think about the humanitarian advertisement that usually appeared between TV shows and often in the middle of the night. Children were portrayed as poor, vulnerable, and needy. My first instinct was to help and save them! However, I do not recall seeing these types of humanitarian campaigns when I lived in South America. So, it feels that it is very targeted to a global North audience to rescue children of the global south.

Some of these images of children are staged as they see dark and still, accompanied by a piece of melancholic music that instinctually will make you feel gloomy and guilty. Once that, the humanitarians appeared on the TV screen, often happy white people. Suddenly, the images will become colorful, and the children's faces will transform into happy smiles. I also recall many humanitarian campaigns where celebrities are the lead faces of the movements. Humanitarian campaigns have used celebrities to amplify the message and recruit more donors, resulting in more money collection.

As engaging with this week's text, I noticed how global south childhood are often portrayed from a deficit view. Meanwhile the north globe childhood had been represented as independent and empowered. The dominant narratives in Early Childhood Education and care have been constructed from the global north perspective producing a normalized, white, male, middle-class heterosexual version of childhood (Perez & Saavedra, 2017). How can we reconstruct the image of the global South Childhood? 

Reference:

Pérez, M. S., & Saavedra, C. M. (2017). A call for onto-epistemological diversity in early childhood education and care: Centering global south conceptualizations of childhood/s. Review of Research in Education, 41(1), 1–29. https://doi.org/10.3102/0091732x16688621

[archiving-childhood]

Black Girl Hair

My hair has always been very important to me, thus sacrificing many hours and paychecks to make sure it was perfectly styled and maintained. I don’t remember my hair pre perm but I do remember the smells of hot combs on the stove and the tingling of the relaxer sitting on my head for too long. Straight was better, ALL curly strains needed to disappear.

It was only a year ago I cut off my relaxed hair to see what grew naturally. Sadly, I didn’t know what I would get since I always ran to the closest perm at the first sight of an unruly strain. Most of the women in our family wore their hair in relaxed styles and or wigs. There was only one family member, my aunt, who wore her hair short and natural and although she still looked beautiful, I don’t remember wanting to do the same for fear of judgment from others.

Like I said before, I don’t remember much about my hair pre-perm but I don’t remember anyone telling me my hair was ugly, however, I also don't remember anyone telling me it was pretty. The pics from my childhood reflect a child with hair her mom didn't know what to do with (because she was not the best at doing hair) so she kept it in braids and or in a permed style to make it easier to maintain (just like she kept hers).

I don’t remember seeing Black women with their natural hair on t.v., the hair salon, the world, or anywhere else. The only place I saw Black women with their natural hair in our history book was when we studied slavery or when I saw pictures of members of The Black Panther Party as a sign of resistance. I didn't want to stick out and I didn’t want to resist. Every time Black people made an appearance in our lessons heads would lift to look at all the Black students in the classroom to check if we resembled those we were studying. I never wanted to look like those in the pictures, therefore, a perm was more than fine with me. Stories of the enslaved were not shown or shared in the best way, thus, I don't think that any of us wanted a connection to this part of history.

[archiving-childhood]

Subway (Public Transportation)

In 1997, when I was seven years old, a city subway was newly opened that connects my small town and the downtown of the city. This opening event made even my geographic territories further. Me, my mom, and my brother went to the city downtown, department stores, huge markets, sports events so on for weekend entertaining. We used to take a bus, but the new subway line saved the time to get places. I remembered we went to the main street of the city down, got some snacks and meals, watched the newly released movie, shopped for clothes and supplies for back to the school. I remembered when any people walked down the busy streets with loud, varicolored store signs, I hold my mom’s hand tightly among the crowd. There were some nervous feelings, but some excitements too. The main street of the city down remains as a popular spot to visit for the young generation for now. Nowadays, I pass by the same places we visited. I feel that the “present” and the “past" memories have overlapped and made multiply layers.

 The reason why we took a subway was that we had only one car that was for my dad’s commuting. Also, compared to the United States, in South Korea, the public transportation was well equipped.  As parking space is limited, taking a bus or subway was the better choice for all. Usually, it took 20-30 minutes to get to the city downtown. It was so long and boring for me as a young child. For solving this boring feelings, I asked to the Word Relay game with mom. I liked to observe the random people and making a story about them and to guess when they get out from the subway. I memorized subway line and let my mom know what the next station is. Sometimes, I fell asleep and lean on my mommy’s cozy shoulder.

Later, maybe in 4th or 5th grade, I went there by subway with my friends, without adults. This was the pioneering transition from a child to a teenager. I got 10000 won (10$) in a little hanging purse and was allowed to spend all the money on street foods and shopping for clothes and small accessories. It gave me huge freedom, independence, funny, friendship but some tensions and anxieties. My childhood experiences to walk outside freely will be different children raised in the USA. I wonder how these childhood experiences outside of the domestic area shape their viewing and mapping of the world.

[archiving-childhood]

Wardrobe and Imaginary play

Have you ever played inside a wardrobe? Impressive childhood memories remain inside of me about a wardrobe. I was a playful child. If I were not playing outside with my friends, I spent time in my bedroom and oftentimes played inside of my wardrobe or underneath my desk. I loved places where I was able to sneakily hide. In small and dark spaces, I had dreamed loudly and beautifully. Tons of play scenarios came out and I played all day long.  

 One of my play scenarios was to sell clothes to my imaginary customers. I could not remember (around 2-3 years old) but my mom runs a small clothing business. Following her saying, I observed that my mom greeted customers and put clothes into the plastic bag. My early observations had been developed sophisticatedly. When I decide to set up a clothing shop, I took out all the materials in my wardrobe. After making sure my seating inside of the wardrobe (put a cushion), I picked and organized which clothes and items I would sell. And also, I brought some paper bags and plastic bags from the kitchen and set up them beside me. Whenever I set up my wardrobe as a clothing store, I made a storyline and imaginary customers and played over and over.

 I think my wardrobe store idea was inspired by one of the oldest, largest traditional markets in Daegu, South Korea. Occasionally, my mom, I, and my brother visited there to get some groceries or various household items. We didn’t need to necessarily go there rather than we visited there mostly for entertaining. On one floor, there are dozens of booths. Merchants are sitting behind the items. Each store booth’s appearance looks like a wardrobe from my perspective. (I attached the picture above)

I think the reason why I played with real-life items rather than children’s toys was that my parent couldn’t afford it and also there were not many structured children’s toys at that time. Now, if you go to target, there are tons of options for pretend play such as ice cream stores, pet shops, hair salons, etc. The lack of structured children’s toys led me to bring real-life items into my imaginary play. I used my mom’s cosmetic items (small lipsticks or eye cream serum bottles) as little play dolls. Additionally, playing inside of the wardrobe gave me a secure and cozy feeling.

[archiving-childhood]

After I met with Tran to discuss Inquiry project ideas, I mulled over the ideas of childhood and picture books, the history of, where they're lacking, where  they're excelling, and access and it prompted me to call my parents immediately. 

As I interviewed my parents about what picture books they grew up with (there weren't many to speak of) and compared notes on how they each got their literary content before age 9, my mother reminded me that every Sunday she would take us to the Vancouver Mall, not to go shopping but to go to the library. Until age 13, I thought the mall was the place you went to get library books. 

Every Sunday we would spend hours browsing the children's book shelves as she read her book on a couch in the library. She would let us pick as many as we could carry and we'd tote our golden prizes home proudly. 

Thinking about this weekly experience made me think about and reflect on access to books, education, resources, etc. as a child and how different our childhoods are shaped merely because of what we're missing out on (or what we get to do/experience). Doing those trips to the mall required transportation, a parent that could devote an entire Sunday to taking us to the library and knowledge that there was a library in the Vancouver Mall, not to mention a library card. It reminded me of the earlier articles we read about the history of childhood and I considered the thought that "childhood is a social and historical construction tied to colonial discourses" (Farley, L. & Sonu, D. 2020. Pg. 1). 

My next steps are diving into what those colonial ties are to picture books and who had access to them. 

Farley, L., & Sonu, D. (2020). Histories and Theories in Childhood Studies. Histories in Childhood Studies, 1–14.

[archiving-childhood]

My mother sent me this New York Times article (Grose, 2022) the other day. The attachment was followed by a text saying, Do you need us to buy one of these for your home? She was trying to lighten the mood of us having the children home for 8 of the last 14 days (not all consecutive, thankfully) due to sickness (not COVID, also thankfully). Just looking at the article’s photograph, I had flashbacks of teaching a night class in 2020 while Jason helped our children to bed. He would often have to bring in Lola to nurse because she would scream so loudly that the students couldn’t hear me lecture. I’d turn off my camera and hold Lola to my chest. While she ate and lulled herself to sleep, I’d talk with college students about early childhood pedagogies and practices. It was our weekly Wednesday night ritual until she stopped nursing that November. It’s remarkable to think about how much the pandemic has shifted motherhood, childhood, and workspaces.

Over a year later, I still feel uncomfortable when my children are home during Zoom calls, embarrassed really. I love having them in our makeshift home office but as soon as the juggling of motherhood and childhood becomes public… It’s as if they aren’t supposed to belong in the space…. Two weeks ago, Chimo joined me for our monthly faculty meeting and, after he loudly knocked down a Magnatile tower that was taller than him, I bribed him with 30 minutes of iPad time so that I could finish the meeting. I met with a professor this past Tuesday and found myself apologizing for Chimo’s preschooler noise in the background. To my surprise, she asked if he was okay and shared a bit about her own busy day balancing motherhood and work. It felt so humanizing.

We can’t talk about childhood without also looking at motherhood as a social, political, and historical construction. I remember reading once that parents of children under five feel forgotten by the government and society… I’m wondering how intersectionality might play a role here too… In a New York Times article from a few days ago, author Amy Wang (2022), interviews Sheena Demby, a working mother who reflects on having an infant at home. Demby remarks, “As a first-time mom and Black woman in corporate America - where I already felt I had to show above-average results just to be visible - I really struggled.” I’ve found myself returning to Demby’s statement again and again over the last few days. It says so much about how society views women, people of color, young children, mothers, what it means to be an employee… As I continue to grapple with these ideas, I ask: What can we learn from the pandemic in regards to motherhood and childhood to better support young children and their families? What systemic changes need to be made? What are our children learning from working mothers? How does this visibility of working mothers disrupt heteronormative views of women and gender? How, as a society, are we caring for children and their families?

Grose, J. (2022 January 29). What does a desk mean for working parents? The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/29/opinion/virginia-library-carrel.html

Wang, A. (2022 February 17). Babies have entered the chat. The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/02/17/magazine/babies-work-meeting.html