But what about the mothers?
The group of women sat in the quiet courtyard, six feet apart, and looked around in silence: some avoided eye contact, while others did their best to catch another’s eye, trying to gauge the energy in the room and who would speak first. We had just watched a screening of a parenting video that shows mothers happily and almost effortlessly caring for their children. The video provides an important example of positive parenting, but when it finished, sadness is what lingered in the now very silent courtyard.
“We all wish we could be like the smiling, happy parents in the video, but sometimes certain stresses and situations stop us from being this attentive to our children,” I offered.
More silence. Then...
One mom finally ventured: “I get so angry at my toddler when I am going crazy wondering how we are going to eat today, and he says he’s hungry....am I a bad mother?”
And with that comment, the floodgates opened. One mother expressed her sorrow in not recognizing herself in the way the video portrays parenting, leading others to share that they feel alone in their sadness - that their children are the only ones who notice how sad they really are and suffer for it. And so, for the next four hours, the group of Haitian mothers commiserated, empathized, and listened to one another share the stresses that have overwhelmed their lives for the past ten months.
There is a saying in my country, Haiti: “when mothers cook, everyone eats.” I always wondered if people considered the amount of pressure behind this phrase. Mothers in my country, with meager resources, bear the heavy burden of nurturing and providing for “all.” The expectation is that mothers will figure things out, no matter what the challenge or problem is.
This expectation remains unaltered amid this unprecedented COVID-19 pandemic, which comes after a string of devastating years for our families, particularly for the most marginalized. In Haiti, our children have missed 115 days of school in the 2019-2020 school year. That may sound high compared to other numbers that you have heard, and it is. Schools were shut down in the fall of 2019 because of political unrest, and we are already bracing ourselves for more unrest and school closures with an upcoming election in November 2020. This is a tragedy for our children, but I also fear a tragedy for mothers: our children’s first teachers.
There is a societal assumption that mothers can handle everything naturally when it comes to child care. So much is attributed to our “instinctive” capacity to nurture that, at times, the world becomes oblivious to signs of our distress. The truth is that we break, we lose our tempers, and we feel alone. If left unaddressed, our distress, especially in heightened moments like this pandemic, inevitably affects our ability to parent well.
As I sat and listened to these mothers, who were part of a focus group to assess the need or relevance for a mother’s support initiative in Haiti, my heart screamed. As they navigate through these difficult times, they all shared that having someone to talk to would bring “light and hope” into their lives.
From the day we have children, society’s gaze moves from us to them. As tensions rise and problems compound, we are expected to manage schoolwork, housework, meals, tuition, and the list continues, with barely any time to assess how we, ourselves, are coping. As we mother, we forget to mother ourselves, and no one steps in to fill the void.
Today, mothers around the world and particularly those in low-income countries live in overdrive. In Haiti, extreme economic strain, school closures, poor nutrition, limitations on church gatherings, and fear and stigma over the pandemic, mean that more than ever mothers are being asked to fend for their whole families in a dire landscape.
Whether an initiative to listen to and support Haitian mothers is relevant is not even a question to me: it is not only relevant; it is essential. And with it, I hope to see the beginning of a shift where Haitian mothers can ask for help, be offered help, and support each other in parenthood.
Dominique Dupuy is a research associate for the University of Notre Dame’s Global Center for the Development of the Whole Child. Through her research on the impact of COVID-19 on the education system in Haiti, she identified a need for a structured and regular support mechanism for mothers in Haiti during the COVID-19 pandemic and beyond. In response, she spearheaded an initiative, which launched in August of 2020, called “Alo manman, kòman ou ye?” or “Hi Mama, how are you?” in which Haitian mothers in the program receive a well-being and check-in call once a week from a trained facilitator.