I think he is trying to protect me

The other philosophy professor here is a marvelous colleague. He was a fantastic mentor when I first showed up. He offers to do things that he knows that I hate doing. He's just an all around great guy. We are both happily married to other people, but every now and then a student will ask to confirm that. Particularly if we are "quarrelling." He says that the philosophy I read and teach is boring. I reply that it is only boring to him because it makes sense. That sort of thing.

Anyway, he is one of the only people who has expressed doubts about my continuing to be a foster parent. He shakes his head and says that Roland and I are too nice. He has laughed and said, "You really have to stop taking all these kids!" Early on he very gently tried to communicate to me that being a foster mom was likely to hurt my career. Once it became clear to him that I was making a fully informed choice about my life, he has been supportive.*

But he still wants to protect me from the stigma of being the mother of six kids.

And yes, that is how he sees it, or how he sees other people see it. When people ask me how many kids I have I say six. I see questions in their eyes that I don't answer. If they make comments that suggest that they are imagining that I went through six pregnancies, I don't correct them. I let them think what they think. On the blog I talk about bioboys and foster boys, but in real life I just let people be confused.

But my colleague is protective of me and of my reputation.

Last week we had lunch and an alumna came by to say hi to him and show him her baby. Of course I was the one interested in holding the baby. She asked if I was ready to be a grandma and I said that I would be when my kids were ready to be parents. After a while she talked about how far her life is from what she thought it would be a few years before. I said, "I know what you mean. My husband and I planned on having two girls."

"What did you have?"

"Six boys so far."

Her eyes get just a little big. I saw the question cross her face. I ccould almost hear her thinking, "How can she be a college professor and have six kids?" She was imagining whatever she was imagining and deciding not to ask. (They almost always decide not to ask. Probably has something to do with my direct eye contact, smiling, one-eye-brow raised, "I dare you to ask" expression.)

My colleague makes a noise of protest and says, "She didn't HAVE six kids. She and her husband are foster parents."

His attitude says that I am making a joke and he isn't going to let me get away with it. That's not it though. We are both very good at the straight-faced ... well, lie. If I start a tall tale he will generally join right in. Frankly I am more likely to blow his cover than the other way around. I will take pity on the poor confused mark and say something like, "Yeah, and he also has a bridge he'd like to sell you." And he corrects me in the same spirit...saving the poor mark. He understands that I won't deny any of my kids. He knows why I won't, and he respects that decision, but he also knows that having six kids reduces me in some people's eyes. And I know that is what bothers him. I know this because I have worked with him for sixteen years. I know him.

I of course have mixed feelings about it. I understand why he does it and I appreciate those reasons. That some of my kids are foster kids is not a secret. Anyone who has known me through the process knows it. In his mind it isn't that the information is a secret. It is that I can't be the one who says it. So he clears it up for me.

I think what really bothers me is the need for the record to be set straight.

I work in a world in which women average less than one child each. I know a few female professors who have birthed two children, but can think of only one who had three. More than two requires an explanation. Who took care of them? How did you pull it off? Does/did your husband stay home?

I don't mind answering these question when the questioner has a need to know. Part of what I do is mentor younger women. When they want to know what choices I made, were there sacrifices and how do I feel about it now, I am happy to talk to them.

And I live here too. I have the values of this world I inhabit.

I feel like I should tell my colleague not to explain my family to people. If I did he would do as I ask, though it would be hard. He would not be comfortable sitting there, knowing I was being falsely judged and not say anything about it. I give myself lists of reasons for not saying anything. They are true reasons.

And maybe one of them is that only part of me dislikes that he does this.

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*My scholarship does not meet the bar for promotion to full professor. I may still get there, but it will be later than others. Had I not done care I probably would have made it on schedule -- or perhaps I just would not have had an excuse.