[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 152 (2006), Part 6]
[House]
[Page 7474]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                       JOB DESCRIPTION OF MOTHERS

  Mr. EMANUEL. Mr. Speaker, I ask permission to speak out of order.
  The SPEAKER pro tempore. Without objection, the gentleman from 
Illinois (Mr. Emanuel) is recognized for 5 minutes.
  Mr. EMANUEL. Mr. Speaker, with Mother's Day coming up, I had come 
across a document on the Internet that was sent around to a number of 
women, including some in my office. In honor of all the mothers across 
America, I would like to read this, if I could.
  A woman, renewing her driver's license at the county clerk's office, 
was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.
  She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. ``What I mean is,'' 
explained the clerk, ``do you have a job or are you just a . . . ?''
  ``Of course I have a job,'' snapped the woman.
  ``I'm a Mom.''
  ``We don't list `Mom' as an occupation, `housewife' covers it,'' said 
the recorder emphatically.
  I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same 
situation, this time at our own town hall. The clerk was obviously a 
career woman, poised, efficient and possessed of a high sounding title 
like, ``Official Interrogator'' or ``Town Registrar.''
  ``What is your occupation?'' she probed.
  What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out.
  ``I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and 
Human Relations.''
  The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as 
though she had not heard right. I repeated the title, slowly 
emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my 
pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official 
questionnaire.
  ``Might I ask,'' said the clerk with new interest, ``just what you do 
in your field?''
  Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself 
reply, ``I have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn't), 
in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors 
and out).
  ``I'm working for my Master's (the whole darned family), and already 
have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the 
most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?), and I 
often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it). But the job is more 
challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more 
of a satisfaction, rather than just money.''
  There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she 
completed the form, stood up and personally ushered me to the door.
  As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I 
was greeted by my lab assistants, ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could 
hear our new experimental model (a 6-month-old baby) in the child 
development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had 
scored a beat on bureaucracy. And I had gone on the official records as 
someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than ``just 
another Mom.''
  Motherhood. What a glorious career, especially when there's a title 
on the door.
  Does this make grandmothers ``Senior Research Associates in the Field 
of Child Development and Human Relations,'' and great-grandmothers 
``Executive Senior Research Associates''? I think so. I also think it 
makes aunts ``Associate Research Assistants.''
  Please send this on to another mom, grandmother, aunt and any friends 
you know.
  To all those mothers who will be celebrating Mother's Day, who have 
the most important profession, the most satisfying profession and 
probably the only title that says in three words what all of us rely 
on, to those mothers out there, thank you for what you do every day 
making sure our children have a home, a place of warmth, and a place of 
great values in honor of all mothers on Mother's Day.

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