Don't pee on cars
Added: Wednesday, 3 June 2009

watch original V-Blog in Persian

watch original V-Blog in German

There are days when I feel like I'm not being productive because showering, getting dressed, putting on my make-up, cooking something, emailing and doing a few phone calls is the most I can say I've achieved that day - if that. When my husband asks, "what did you do today?" I scramble to count the things I actually did. It's all very bad for my self-esteem! Now that I'm a mom, life is dictated by a little Napoleon in a onesie.

To make matters worse I was in the mall yesterday, hoping to tick at least a few things off my to do list, when I ran into a man who was verbally abusing his wife in the elevator. Granted, I didn't have all the facts, nor do I know for sure what the commotion was about. But nothing short of murder on her part, in my eyes, could have warranted such a display of abusive language.

The scene perturbed me and set off a whole series of angry thoughts that made me bark at the innocent teller in the bank. On my way back to the car, which was parked on the rooftop of the mall, I came across another fine specimen of the male gender. A smartly dressed young gentleman was standing next to my car, relieving himself. The audacity!

I got in the car and drove home. Traffic was thick, the sun was setting and I had achieved very little all day, except for sing songs of the gentle ant who helped a butterfly in distress to my son who was moaning in the child seat. If only the bus in front of me would go a little faster. It was a school bus. I could see four boys in the back of the bus, playing around. But at second glance, they weren't playing. One boy grabbed another by the back of his hair and violently shook his head. It looked like he was threatening the other boy, who, from his body language, was visibly intimidated. A bully obviously. How angry it made me, as I got to my street and turned left, leaving the bus to the thick of rush hour traffic – and the boy to God.

Who was raising these kids? Who had raised the young man who peed against my tire? Who had raised the man in the elevator who was yelling at his wife? And then it dawned on me. A mother. A mother who was doing nothing of value all day except showering and getting dressed – and perhaps raising a young child who would later become a man.

I know it takes mothers and fathers to raise children, but I can speak only for mothers. We are the primary educators of our children. We have a massive responsibility, one that is not to be taken lightly. And what is most baffling is that behind every abusive or dominating man is a mother who raised him. Sure, and a father, but it's us women who complain of abusive husbands and dominating men, so doesn't the change have to start with us? What are we doing wrong? Maybe we need to start by valuing and focusing on our job and praying each day that we may fulfil our duty to the very best of our ability. This is a tremendously weighty task.

Next time your husband asks what you did today, you say "I'm trying to raise a son who will later come home to his wife and ask her, 'What can I do to support you today, oh primary educator of the next generation?'"

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22 February 2008

Mother's Crown

Mother's Crown delves into the eccentricity and spirituality of a 74 year-old Indian-Australian sculptor captivated by the beauty of motherhood. This observational documentary draws a parallel between motherhood and the artistic process as forms of creativity and inspiration.

Director/Writer: Misagh Habibi
Music: Todd McNeal
DOP/Editor: Misagh Habibi

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