I just hosted a Mother Talk salon. Fantastic, stimulating, wonderful event. I feel like my house has just been blessed by all the good vibes that swept through it.
About 35 women filled the house, and the conversation was lively from the get go. This is Portland – a small town in the guise of a city – so many of the guests were connected in more than one way (“Our kids go to preschool together!” “She belongs to the same synagogue!” “We met at Powell’s!”). A little wine, and we were off and running.
About 45 minutes later everyone crowded into chairs and onto the floor for more focused discussion. Our guest speakers were Jennifer Lauck, author of Blackbird, Still Waters, and a new memoir Show Me The Way, and Ariel Gore, author of The Hip Mama Survival Guide, Atlas of the Human Heart and founder of the Hip Mama parenting zine. Each woman spoke a bit about her own experience as a mother and a writer. Jennifer brought passion and power to the talk, Ariel was saucy and full of self-deprecating humor. Everyone enjoyed hearing them both; once the conversation got started it kept rolling with its own momentum.
Each guest spoke briefly about why she was hoping to get from the evening, and, at once, we could all see what an intelligent, open group it was. No surprise; it was as if we were all just waiting for a forum to speak and be heard.
The conversation took a decidedly writerly turn, with lots of people asking Jennifer and Ariel questions about privacy and the risks of writing about one’s family and children. I grapple with this myself (and have been working on an essay about this very subject for a while), but I wish we would have had more time to talk more about our individual experiences of motherhood. As it was, the last guests left after midnight…our desire to talk got overtaken by our sore butts (from sitting on my hard wooden chairs and floor) and our need to sleep.
Something was ignited that night. Several people expressed an interest in keeping in touch, and the writer-moms who were there seemed especially eager to stay connected. I’ve started an email list to make that a bit easier: see PDX Writer Moms. (PDX is the airport code for Portland, Oregon, by the way.)
I’ve since spoken to several of the women who were there, and so many conversations have started as a result…at the very least, people are talking, friendships are forming and deepening, and connections are being made. It was a memorable evening. Makes me love this town even more than I already do.
Comments