A few years ago, a video went viral in which a boy was seen learning how to write the alphabet. Tutoring him was his mother, who was also handling another child, an infant, in her lap.
In the video, the sobbing child threatens to complain about her to his grandparents and father, telling her he no longer liked her. The mother, unfazed, urges him to keep writing, warning that if he didn’t, he would be taken to task.
The video evoked sympathy for the child, who was seen as the victim of a pushy mother. “Children should be allowed to bloom and sprout like a flower,” read a comment.
“Nowadays, children are being groomed into robots,” read another. “Childhood is being strangled…” the comments followed.
What do mothers here think about being ‘pushy’? “They can say what they want. When the child does well, there will be many to take the credit, but when it doesn’t, only the mother will be blamed by even those who speak tall about child rights,” snaps Apoorva Paramjyoti, who has currently taken a break from her corporate job to be with her daughter in Class 10.
“Even otherwise, I want my child to do well. Hence, I will dream for her and will tell her to groom her life well. I will take all efforts to meet that end.”
From the days of yore, motherhood has been venerated as the next best thing to the divine, and the onus of grooming a child has rested on the mother. She may be undereducated, burdened with chores, or busy with a high-profile job, but she must attend to her child’s lessons with the same diligence she expects of the child.
Indian mothers are famously dutiful, and even in the West, mothers are often singled out as responsible for their child’s progress. Even Napoleon, the creator of the Napoleonic Code, which stresses equality, is said to have proclaimed: “Give me an educated mother, I shall promise you the birth of a civilised, educated nation.”
Is this a natural instinct or a mindset imposed on her by patriarchy? It’s a question worth pondering.
“My mother wasn’t very educated, but she insisted that we do well and sat with us as we studied,” says Jyotiraditya Tiwari, an aerospace engineering student. “I have seen mothers from resource-poor areas engaging more ambitiously with their children.”
Sindhu Jagan, who chose not to work to focus on her children full-time, says “there is no doubt” that women lay the educational foundation of a child. “But my question is, why should it be on women alone?” she asks.
“I believe men are a bit casual about it. For them, if the child doesn’t do well, they think they will do it later. Why fuss? But for me, and most mothers, small steps make the larger picture bright.”
Athira Jose, a mother of two daughters, also chose not to work to give full attention to her children. “In my case, it was pick and drop, even. I had to forsake my dance classes for that. But I always told myself, it is for my children,” she says.
“It is indeed a period of stress, especially in the case of younger children. But in the last five years, there’s been a hint of change. Load-sharing is happening in many families, as more women take up stressful jobs.”
‘Not just academics’
Yet, when it comes to children’s education, mothers’ nerves often fray more than others, almost as if by choice. As though the child’s performance is intrinsically linked to their credibility as a mother.
Bushra Begum, associate professor of sociology at the University of Kerala, quotes American gender studies scholar Judith Butler’s assertion that “gender is a performance”.
“Gender roles are constructed and internalised by women, and as mothers, they want to perform and be successful in multiple roles in this competitive world,” says Bushra.
“If they are not able to perform well in those roles, it leads to desperation and unwanted stress. This shows how mothers are compelled to perform constructed feminine roles in nurturing.”
Mothers, however, rarely analyse the reasons behind their feelings. The stress is considered part of the package.
“The equation is simple. If I want my child to perform well academically, I need to put in time and effort. Not just academically. Many mothers, including myself, take care of children’s excellence in extracurricular activities such as sports as well,” says Ammu Krishna, who is now busy getting her 10-year-old son ready for the annual exams.
“Stress is inevitable. Some may argue that mothers willingly take on pressure when she could let the child fail and learn it the hard way. To let them evolve organically. That may be possible in the case of older children, but I feel it may not work with younger ones.”
The media professional adds that a child should know it is important to take exams seriously.
“It sets the template for bigger things in life, like a sense of responsibility. And as for mothers handling it alone, let’s face it: In the construct of an average Indian family, it is the mother who does it all,” she smiles.
‘Triple stress’
Dr Arun B Nair, professor of psychiatry at Thiruvananthapuram Medical College, terms it “triple stress”.
“First, there is the stress of reproduction and child nurturing. Then the productivity role, where she has to work, and then the community responsibility of household management,” he explains.
“Then, she often has to look into her child’s lessons even while cooking or caring for others. Often, she has to learn things she may never have learnt or left in high school. But it directly affects the way her competency is viewed, and she becomes competitive at times regarding her child’s performance. And, generally, it is a thankless job as well. All this affects her health, disrupts her sleep cycle, and leads to health issues and conflicts in her interpersonal relationships.”
There is another kind of stress when mothers care for their teenager, says Rachana S, an accountant and mother of a 15-year-old.
“They have been cared for so far, and suddenly, the children want to do everything independently,” she says.
“The mother becomes helpless because she doesn’t know how to help the child or where he or she stands academically. Then, there are cases of suicides among teenagers due to parental pressure. Every time I urge my daughter to study, I question whether I am being too harsh or putting her under pressure.”
Jaya Gopinath, whose daughter is in Class 12, echoes similar views. “It has been months since I have slept well,” she says.
“I don’t know how to help her because she doesn’t discuss her academics with me, saying the teachers are there to take care. I let her be, but the thought of how she will fare and what will happen to her future consumes me.”
Self-imposed?
Some feel it is their joyful duty to aid their child in studies. Like Archana Vinod from Kowdiar, mother of two boys aged 14 and 12: “My husband does teach the children, but I feel satisfied when I teach them myself. I feel it is mostly upon me to take care of the academic affairs of the children. I feel it’s not an obligation but my duty,” she says.
For others like Rachana, it is not only because it is their duty but also because society expects them to play this role. “My husband is unbothered most of the time. His nonchalance makes me take charge,” she says.
“I have been taking leave from work as my daughter’s Class 10 board exams approach — not to help her cover the syllabus, but because I feel responsible for the weight of her success or failure. If something goes wrong, I will be blamed.”
Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex critiques such traditional expectations surrounding motherhood.
“To be a mother is not a sufficient reason for a woman to renounce herself; she must not honour a contract in which she loses all,” writes the French philosopher.
She also critically examines how motherhood is shaped by social expectations rather than personal choice. Simone argues that motherhood, rather than being purely a natural instinct, has become a role imposed on women by a patriarchal society.
The same patriarchy is the reason why teaching as a profession is often seen as a woman’s job. “This notion emerged as a product of a society that wanted to invest only in professions that showed quick results,” says Sivakumar Vasavan, who researches sociology and human behaviour.
“Teaching is not something that yields quick results. Hence, the money in it began to wane, and women were handed over these jobs because they do not need to be paid better than men in a patriarchal setup.”
A mother, to a woman, is one who does not have a self. This, perhaps, could be a brainwashed existence. Some may call it a mother’s soul call.
“Times are changing. Yet, the idea of a self-effacing mother runs so deep that even children often expect mothers to be so,” says Apoorva.
“The only question is how much of it is instinct and how much is a constructed mindset? This is something to contemplate.”