Please Don't Cancel Motherhood.

Our culture has discussed moms and especially stay-at-home moms more in the last few weeks than it has maybe ever. Every social media influencer and pundit has offered their opinions on Harrison Butker’s infamous commencement speech at Benedictine College. While some are trying to cancel Butker–– I beg you, please don’t cancel motherhood.

I left a career on Capitol Hill a year after my oldest daughter was born. I worked as a scheduler and then press secretary for a quirky, libertarian-minded member of congress from Kentucky. He was a tough but fair boss who had an intolerance to mediocrity. It would be a lie to say that my job in congress was my dream career, but I enjoyed meeting people who had spent their time and resources to engage with their representatives to make their communities better. It was rewarding to make the people who met with the congressman or other office staff feel like they mattered and that their voices were heard and appreciated.

During my time in this office, my daughter was born with unexpected and complicated medical problems. She spent more than three weeks in two different NICUs before we could bring her home. My tentative plans to return to some form of in-person work after maternity leave were out of the question. Fortunately, my boss offered me the option of working from home (in the pre-COVID era, this was very unusual for Capitol Hill). After a year of balancing work with the demands of a baby, I was ready to focus solely on motherhood, so I resigned my position with gratitude and hope for the future (and a little relief that I didn’t need to constantly check my phone and email for missed messages anymore).

But Washington, D.C. is a fast-paced town and one that values what you do and who you know above all else. During this time, my husband was working in the White House and I frequently visited his office or attended events with him that required me to interact with his colleagues and friends. The first question I was always asked was, “what do you do?” or “where do you work?” It was hard not to respond with, “I’m just a stay-at-home mom” or “I used to work on Capitol Hill.” There is nothing inherently wrong with these responses, but they betrayed a sense of inadequacy at my lowly station in Washington society.