海角大神

So, an American University assistant professor breastfeeds her baby in class. Before you know it, there鈥檚 a Washington D.C.-meets-academia scandal at hand, complete with dogged journalists, passive-aggressive official responses, outraged defensiveness, female body parts, and a nice dose of commentary about concepts like 鈥渨hite privilege鈥� and 鈥済endered essentialism.鈥�

It all makes me incredibly tired. And squeamish.

Not, mind you, because of the breasts involved. No, it seems to me that we should just get over our cultural issue with those. (And that goes for the people who don鈥檛 think women should be seen nursing their babies, as well as for the in-your-face, here鈥檚-my-breast lactation soldier. I鈥檇 venture that we can all just relax.)

But squeamish I feel.聽

In large part, I鈥檒l admit, this is because the student journalists involved in this kerfuffle (鈥淭he Eagle,鈥� the university鈥檚 student newspaper, plays a leading role) remind me of my own career as a college gumshoe, and it makes me want to cover up my ears and say 鈥渓a la la鈥� until the image goes away.聽

But there is unease for other reasons. When I read assistant professor Adrienne Pine鈥檚 essay on the website Counterpunch.org, entitled 鈥淭he Dialectics of Breastfeeding on Campus: Expos茅ing My Breasts on the Internet,鈥� I couldn鈥檛 help but feel that somehow we鈥檙e all missing the point.

To back up here, in case you missed the news reports about this: About a month ago, on the first day of her course 鈥淪ex, Gender & Culture鈥� (I love that detail), Professor Pine, a single mother, woke up to find her baby daughter with a fever. Stuck without child care 鈥� she didn鈥檛 want to bring a sick baby to day care 鈥� Pine had the choice to either cancel class or take her daughter to work with her. She chose the latter.

So, the baby spent the 75-minute class either on Pine鈥檚 back, crawling around the floor, or being held by a teaching assistant. At one point, Pine nursed the infant.聽

鈥淲hen Lee grew restless, I briefly fed her without stopping [the] lecture, and much to my relief, she fell asleep,鈥� Pine wrote in her essay. 鈥淭he end of class came none too soon, and I was happy to be able to take the bus home and put my sad baby in bed where she belonged. It seemed like things had gone as well as they could, given the circumstances.鈥�

But then a college newspaper reporter e-mailed.聽 And here, Pine gets snarky.聽 See, according to Pine鈥檚 recount of the e-mail, this reporter, Heather Mongilio, asked to talk about what happened in class, while saying that she understood 鈥渢he delicacy of the matter and I do not want to make you feel uncomfortable.鈥�

Pine wrote that she was 鈥渟hocked and annoyed鈥� at the e-mail鈥檚 anti-woman implications, that nursing her baby would be considered 鈥渄elicate鈥� or 鈥渦ncomfortable.鈥澛� Later, as Ms. Mongilio pursues her story 鈥� even having the nerve to try to interview Pine in person! What shoddy journalism they鈥檙e teaching over there 鈥� Pine becomes ever more offended, writing disparagingly about how the young reporter called her breastfeeding in class an 鈥渋ncident鈥� and how the student newspaper overall was anti-feminist. (She quoted a rather unfortunate and unrelated date rape column to prove her point.)

Meanwhile, the university has not appeared particularly pleased with its professor, noting in classic institutional language that perhaps sick babies do best at home. According to the Washington Post, here鈥檚 part of the university鈥檚 position statement:聽

鈥淎 faculty member鈥檚 conduct in the classroom must be professional. Faculty may maintain a focus on professional responsibilities in the classroom by taking advantage of the options the university provides, including reasonable break times, private areas for nursing mothers to express milk, and leave in the case of a sick child.鈥�

There鈥檚 a lot wrong with all of this.

Firstly: Sure, the young reporter鈥檚 questions show a good deal of naivet茅. Just because breastfeeding involves breasts doesn鈥檛 mean that it is an uncomfortable topic. And just because a situation involves breastfeeding doesn鈥檛 mean that it鈥檚 really about nursing 鈥� here, for instance, we have many deeper issues about women鈥檚 employment, child care access, and work-family balance, particularly for single moms.聽

But the journalist is a student. It鈥檚 hard to blame her for not navigating in the most academically-accepted or progressive way what is surely a culturally fraught topic. After all, we're in an environment where a woman nursing her toddler is featured on the cover of Time magazine and a woman nursing her baby is kicked off a Delta flight.聽

Then we have the professor, who, understandably, seems annoyed that this personal experience has become so publicized. But do we have to get all nasty about it?聽 Pine wrote that she had a disinclination to use her daughter as a teaching tool, which, again, I get. But why not, once the baby鈥檚 in class, anyhow?聽 Rather than getting her back up, Pine could have used the chance to have an open, detailed, and kind conversation with a journalist who had a mouthpiece to the university community.

And then there鈥檚 the university response. In a lot of ways, it seems pretty darn progressive. In its statement, it marks off all the boxes of a good-for-families workplace 鈥� flexibility, nursing facilities, and so on. But clearly, in this situation, its policies weren鈥檛 enough.

So where does that leave us?聽 With everyone peeved.聽

Everyone involved in this story seems to be trying to do the 鈥渞ight鈥� thing. But there is massive disconnect, along with a good dose of frustration.

And this, perhaps, hits at the root of the difficulties surrounding parenthood in today鈥檚 working American culture. Which is why, I think, I am squeamish.聽 By turning this into the latest breastfeeding controversy, with outrage all around, we are missing a chance to have a deeper, inclusive discussion about those unresolved challenges.