by Forest, Will
“Uhmm, pine needles? To make a pillow?” said Dr. Ross.
“What?” said Dr. Castellón Reyes.
“Never mind, Jaime. Sorry to interrupt.”
“She had these soft pine pins under her head, but she didn’t want that. She sat up, y se puso de cuclillas- how do you say this?” Jaime kept his weight firmly on both feet and bent his knees, lowering his body until the tip of his foreskin almost touched the floor.
“Squatting,” said Daphne.
“Squatting, ah yeeees. She squatted, and my aunt and my father held her, like this,” said Jaime, still squatting as he extended his arms out and up from his sides. “She was yelling and crying. Soon there appeared the crown of the baby. And then the baby came out, mi madre dio a luz – my mother gave into the light, as we say in Spanish, right there in the middle of the forest. I’ll never forget it –the smell of pines makes me remember when my sister was born that morning. And everybody was making such a fuss but trying to keep quiet at the same time because we didn’t know if there were Franco’s soldiers looking for us. My aunt wanted to clean the baby with some wine she had in a flask, but my mother drank it all!”
“Was it a boy or a girl?” asked Heather.
“A girl! And my parents named her Marie Celeste, because it happened that we had already crossed into France, uuuh, without knowing it! In fact that is where my sister lives today, in the south of France. But just after she was born, and after we escaped from the French concentration camps on the beach—but that’s another story—we all went to Veracruz, in Mexico. Now, something else I remember has to do with the topic of this course, and by the waaaayy, Christopher, I want to say publicly that this is a terrific course and you are to be commended for your pioneering spirit.”
“Thanks, Jaime. Muchas gracias.”
“De nada. Es verdad lo que te digo. Now, what I remember is when my mother daba pecho, she would give her breast to my little sister, and this was one of the most remarkable things I had seen in my young life. I think I had probably seen farm animals suck milk, but I didn’t know to associate it with what I saw my mother doing. And I asked my mother what came out of her breast and she said, ‘Leche, tontín – Milk, silly’ and she squeezed a little bit so I could see. She was very open about it. She would feed the baby on the ship deck, in the street, wherever she was, without, uuuh, shame.”
“Wow,” said one of the young men in the room.
“Yeeees, you’re right to say ‘Wow!,’ because many women today are ashamed to give the breast.” Jaime looked disgusted. “This is a tragedy. What could be more natural than a baby desiring the milk of her mother? But many mothers in this country would deny this to their babies. I think this has to do with some things in the American culture, like attitudes from the, uuuh, puritans that create the repressed desire to see pornography everywhere. Because in Spain, and in Mexico also, to give milk is very natural. Or at least it used to be. Maybe not so much now that so many women get plastic to stuff in their breasts.”
“But, we always have to avoid generalizing, right Jaime?” said Dr. Ross. “When I was a baby in the 1960s, mothers were convinced by the media that scientifically produced formula provided the best nutrition for their babies. Today, on the other hand, people understand that the whole formula bit was a fraud. So, I wasn’t breastfed, but I bet it might have been different for our students’ generation. Raise your hand, students, if your mother breastfed you.”
Two students’ hands went up.
“Uuuh, we should not generalize, Christopher,” laughed Jaime triumphantly, “including when we generalize about the use of generalizations. Noooww, I know that in this course you are studying aesthetics and the image of the body, so I want to mention that in Mexico, perhaps even more than in Spain, there is a special fascination with mothers: the virgin mother of God, and the native mother figure, La Malinche, the lover of Hernán Cortés. People believe La Malinche betrayed the Aztecs because, as his translator, she revealed Aztec secrets to Cortés. But it is often forgotten that most people who lived in Mexico at that time feared and hated the Aztecs, and saw an alternative to their problems in the, uuuh, arrival of the Spanish. Do you have that mural ready, Christopher?”
“Yes, hang on a second…” Dr. Ross projected an image onto the screen.
“Here you see a mural painted by José Clemente Orozco,” began Dr. Castellón Reyes. “It is a huge painting that fills the stairwell of the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso in Mexico City. Cortés and La Malinche are nude, to reveal their very different colors, and they are united by their hands. Another naked body lies at their feet; he is the vanquished indigenous race. The new mestizo or mixed race will be born from their union, the union of European and indigenous peoples.”
“Cortés looks like he’s trying to restrain La Malinche,” said Greg.
“Yeeees, he is protecting her but also he is dominating her. The Spanish language, culture, and religion would dominate in Mexico from then on, but the indigenous culture would not, nor could not, be completely repressed.”
“I saw a mural like that in a government building in Veracruz,” said Dr. Ross, “except in the one I saw, Malinche is holding a baby to her breast.”
“You see? In our culture it is an open and natural thing to give the breast.”
“In that case La Malinche can also represent the land,” said Renee, “you know, just like her breast is the baby’s source, her body, in the sense of the land of Mexico, will nourish the new culture.”
“That is a very good observation, young lady,” said Jaime. “And Mexico’s other mother is, of course, la Virgen. In some paintings she gives her breast as well, and it is to show the new nation, like the baby Jesús, receiving the nourishment of la palabra de Dios, the word of God.”
As Jaime was explaining this, the classroom door opened. In walked a very pregnant woman in a silk robe.
“Dr. Liang!” Christopher welcomed his colleague. “Come on in! We’re listening to Dr. Castellón Reyes’ presentation.”
“But really, I have finished. Pleeeeease,” said Jaime, “adelante. Let us hear your presentation, Dr. Liang.”
“Okay, then let’s move on to our next guest, Dr. Maggie Liang of the art department. Many of you already know Dr. Liang, who is doing us a special favor by visiting us today in her condition.”
“Sorry I’m late. It takes a little longer to do basic things now, like walk, sleep, even breathe!” As Dr. Liang untied her belt, the gallant Dr. Castellón Reyes helped her remove her robe, the only garment covering her.
Maggie thanked her colleague and greeted the class. “I’m eight months pregnant, which means thirty-two weeks, which means that I’m well into the third trimester. Oh, and let me tell you too, because I know you’ll ask: my husband and I requested not to know the sex of the baby until it’s born.”
“How much weight have you gained?” Heather wanted to know right away.
Dr. Liang decided to take such a direct question in stride. “Oh. Well, I’ve gained thirty-five pounds,” she said proudly, turning from side to side to model her profile. “My art students have been sketching my progress. I’ve modeled for them once a month this semester!”
Christopher offered a chair with a clean towel draped over it. “Here, Maggie, would you like a seat?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said, cradling her extended abdomen as she lowered herself delicately. “Dr. Ross invited me here to tell you a bit about pregnancy as I remember it growing up in China, and also to tell you about images of pregnancy in art. So I’ll start with China. I remember my older cousins when they were pregnant. There are so many traditions to follow! For example, they had to speak softly, and eat lots of ginger but avoid anything salty. And one time we put dolls on my newlywed cousin’s bed because people thought it would help her conceive!
“Nowadays, because of the Chinese government’s policy on just one child per family, pregnancy is an even bigger deal there, I think, than in many countries. And because so man
y people, out of ignorance or peer pressure, desire boy babies, the ancient Chinese calendar for pregnancies has made a comeback. It’s supposed to predict the sex of the baby based on the mother’s age—up to the month—when the baby is conceived. Some couples go through elaborate planning based on the calendar’s prescriptions for boy babies, only to feel all the more frustrated if a girl is born, sometimes giving her up for adoption or even abandoning her. According to the calendar, my baby will be a girl. But I don’t believe it’s any more accurate than flipping a coin. There are only two options—well, almost always just two options—so at least half the time the calendar will be correct.”
“A friend of mine showed me that calendar on the Internet when I was pregnant with my son,” Daphne said.
Greg turned, amazed, to look at Daphne. It was the first time she had said anything in class about being a mom.
“Was it correct?” asked Dr. Liang.
“Yes, the calendar was right!”
“Isn’t that funny? Most cultures have folk beliefs about how to know the gender of the baby before it’s born, but of course now most people just rely on the ultrasound image. Even though that’s not always right, either! But, back to traditional China: women were almost always very wrapped up in robes and belts and whatnot, so pregnancy as a condition was somewhat hidden. Breastfeeding, for example, could be accomplished in a public place, but only because the baby and breast would be discreetly hidden behind folds of the mother’s robe. Personally, even though I love to be nude, sometimes I like to feel myself supported by clothing now, I mean because I feel so heavy. My breasts and my belly are bloated. But other times I’m too hot and just want to be naked. And that reminds me, what most surprised me about being pregnant is my linea negra.”
“What’s that?” asked Paul.
“It’s this dark line, right here, running down the middle of my belly, see?”
“Mine was never that dark. Very faint,” said Daphne.
“What’s it for?” asked Alex.
“Well, I don’t know that it’s ‘for’ anything. It turns out that it’s just a change in pigmentation due to hormonal surges. It’s especially prominent in women of Asian and Hispanic heritage, and it usually goes away some time after giving birth. Now that I know what it is, it interests me as an artist, because you don’t see it that often in painted depictions of pregnant women. Christopher, did you get the images I sent you in my email?”
Dr. Ross was seated at the computer with his hand on the mouse. “I’m ready to go!”
“Thanks. Let’s start with…wait, what’s this image on the screen? Isn’t that a Rivera or an Orozco?”
“It’s an Orozco,” said Jaime, “Cortés y La Malinche.”
“Look at that, you can kind of make out a linea negra there on her belly. Do you think Orozco may have wanted to suggest she’s pregnant?”
“Yeeees, what a marvelous observation…She is going to be the mother of the Mexican mestizo people. Her belly…it is not swollen, but maybe she could be in the early months, Dr. Liang?”
“She could be, indeed. The linea negra usually starts to appear around the time the belly begins to swell. Neat, huh? Let’s contrast this image with the famous Venus of Willendorf. Do you see that one labeled, Dr. Ross? Oh, yes, thank you: this figurine, and other prehistoric pregnant figurines, may have been fertility symbols, good luck symbols or images of the earth mother. Jung would say these little statuettes are evidence of the archetypal relationship between women and the earth, especially places like caves related to vaginas, and breasts to hills, etc.”
Terrence raised his hand. “Is that where the idea of Mother Earth comes from?”
“Right, the earth as a source of nourishment and growth. Here is another image, a 7000-year-old carving from Çatal Hüyük in Turkey, one of many found at the site that represent a large, pregnant, nude woman seated on a leopard throne. Because of the throne, and the diadem on her head, she seems more like a queen or goddess. Once again, maybe she is a goddess of fertility or good harvest.
“There are many more of these ancient figurines. Let’s jump to the Renaissance, to this image of an ever-so-slightly pregnant Virgin Mary. For those of you who aren’t Christian, that’s not supposed to be an oxymoron—pregnant virgin—but an article of faith. We could go off on a tangent about depictions of virginity, and menstruation, but today we’ll stick with pregnancy. The Virgin was hardly ever portrayed as more than a few months pregnant, and frequently in the presence of an angel or a divine light. Remember that these kinds of paintings were almost always commissioned, so artists had to keep to the prescribed norms of presentation.
“Much more common were the paintings of Jesus’s birth, as you can see here, although of course there is no pretense of realism regarding the appearance of newborns. Miraculously, perhaps, Jesus is born resembling a six-month-old, or even a two-year-old, who is often shown suckling at his mother’s breast. Ooo! My baby just kicked me! Did you see that?
“Okay, fast-forward to the twentieth century: after the invention of film, pregnancy was kept off-screen in the United States in image as well as word. An infamous title of a 1950s I Love Lucy episode was ‘Lucy is Enceinte,’ using the French for the taboo word ‘pregnant.’ Popular reaction condemned the euphemism, so the following episode displayed the word ‘pregnant’ in its title! Nowadays, however, there are many kinds of visual representations of pregnancy, from actual footage of childbirth to—next image, please—a recent, controversial life-size nude statue of a certain young pop star kneeling on all fours on a bear-skin rug, pregnant, with her posterior raised as high as possible. I contrast this image with the I Love Lucy trivia to show how, even today, depictions of pregnancy can be polemical.”
Class time was up. Dr. Ross thanked the guest speakers. Daphne got the impression that Dr. Liang had no idea how brave she was, to come teach a guest class, in the nude, while pregnant. She asked Dr. Liang if she needed help getting back to the art building.
“I need to sit back down. I wonder how Lucille Ball was able to do all she did while pregnant!”
“I waited tables at an Italian restaurant when I was pregnant,” said Daphne, “even though certain food smells made me nauseous! To this day I can’t stand the smell of Parmesan cheese.”
The art professor laughed. “That’s what I’m craving right now: cheese!”
Her baby kicked again.
“Hold tight, little one! If my baby lasts full term, I should be able to teach through the semester. But I sure do get tired.”
“Thanks for coming to class, and for showing us not just two-dimensional examples of pregnancy but also a real live pregnancy in all its glory!”
“My pleasure.”
Organic and Open Collectivity
Angela was warming up the students for class with some nude tai chi. A few students had retained their t-shirts or shorts, or both, because the morning air outside had chilled them. At about eight minutes into the class hour, Angela guided them into the last pose and turned down the meditation music.
“Alright, let’s start our discussion. At the end of our last class, I asked you to prepare a list of the advantages and disadvantages identified by the children and teens who wrote the selections in the anthology about uniforms. What are some of the advantages of wearing school uniforms?”
“You don’t have to spend time deciding what to wear.”
Dr. Saucedo began writing the responses on the board.
“There are less things to criticize about what someone is wearing.”
“Good. Fewer – fewer things, not less. Who else?”
“School spirit and group identification.”
“Right. What else?”
“Some kid wrote, ‘because Mom says it’s cheaper.’”
The students laughed.
“Well, some other kid put, ‘because I like the colors.’ Not everyone could say that, though.”
“Okay, I’m going to make this overlapping category between our two ci
rcles, like a Venn diagram,” said Dr. Saucedo, “for aspects that can be either advantageous or not. How about outright disadvantages that the students wrote about?”
“Uniforms squelch creativity.”
“One girl wrote that she ended up recycling dirty uniform pants or shirts over several schooldays until they could be washed at home.”
“People can still notice and criticize the brand of khaki pants, for example, or black shoes that you’re wearing.”
“Some uniform codes are too strict.”
“The teachers don’t have to wear uniforms.”
“Sometimes exchange students don’t receive uniforms and that makes it tougher for them to fit in during the short time they’re visiting the school.”
“Strong work,” said Dr. Saucedo. “We’ve got more disadvantages than advantages. Does that seem right to you?”
Lisa raised her hand. “I was surprised to read so many complaints. But then, I wore uniforms though middle school and liked them, and my friends seemed to too. I especially liked the plaid skirts.”
“The complaints made sense to me,” Jacob said. “I never had to wear uniforms, except band uniforms or Boy Scout uniforms, but since I was always kinda pudgy as a boy sometimes the uniforms made me look pathetic. I definitely think the disadvantages outweigh the advantages.”
“You might think differently,” Dr. Saucedo began, “if or when you have children. Parents overwhelmingly support school uniforms—around 85%—and they’re the ones who lobby for them. Teachers support uniforms, albeit less than parents—about 70%—and they claim that there are fewer discipline problems when the students wear uniforms, even though at least one prominent study refuted that claim.”
