RISING TRIBES

with mamaluna

Chichi #1: mamaluna on breastfeeding

I grew up watching a chichi or two hanging about, waiting to be feasted on.  Chichi is the most common word for  breasts in Mexico.  No this is not an x-rated post, only one where I share a bit of what it was like to grow up in an embracing breastfeeding community.  San Cristobal de las Casas was then (in the early 80’s) still a pueblito,  the mornings and evenings filled with greetings from neighbors or strangers passing by created the atmosphere of a delicately woven web of humanity characteristic of a pueblito.  This misty cold valley  scented with firewood and fireworks was the setting for brown chichis nursing everywhere, at the markets, at the hospitals, at the tortilleria lines, on the minibuses, on the corner mango stands.   To see a child nursing while attached to her mama in a  chal/rebozo  was a sign of the town’s health and prosperity.

My daily encounters with Tzeltal, Tzotzil and mestizo women breastfeeding their children was a reminder of my own sense of well being.  As child who was  born at home and breastfed for a couple of years, I felt an automatic  joy at the sight of other children nestled in their mother’s bosoms.  An automatic ticket to the feeling of home.  A home defined by the selfless gift of a well nourished life.  I was living a communal understanding of nursing  as natural and normal, chichis were meant to hang out with a child’s hand, mouth or both attached to them.

As I became a teenager,  formula was  introduced rampantly throughout Chiapas, and Mexico,  poor and working class mothers began to leave their homes and infants to go to work, new infant care centers began to open up.   The vicious cycle of corporate interest began to create a pattern, a clear example: women found jobs making formula at the new Nestle factory so that they could afford to buy formula for their children who where now at day care centers.   Higher class mestizo and Coleto families of San Cristobal, who had access to the latest bottles and formula, began to shrug at the sight of bare breasts.  By the early 90’s I remember only seeing indigenous women breastfeeding  in public, more and more i began to see children being bottle fed, including the times that I fed my own nephews their formula bottles.   In recent times, though these  massive influences and corporate effects on our culture still exist, indigenous children are most often breastfed.  As a matter of fact, while talking to a junior high school friend of mine who is now a Doctor  in Tzeltal an Tzotzil clinics,  I learned  that doctors are required to encourage mothers to breastfeed for a minimum of 6 months, however they would push formula before nursing claiming that  indigenous  mothers suffer from poor nutrition.   Instead of supporting, “re-educating” or backing off, physicians recommend formula!  (I won’t get into the sickness/details of the historically socio-political and psycological effect of colonization on indigenous peoples and how they  relate  to nursing mothers on this post, but do keep an eye out).

As a Tzeltal woman myself, I never thought twice about breastfeeding.  We are talking about Natural Law here.   When we had our first child, I was absolutely sure that breastfeeding had been a skill my ancestors had taught me.  Not that I knew how to do it, but I believed (and still do) that I had a genealogical sense that would help me learn as my infant was in my arms.  I know I am not the only woman who feels this way either.  Living in New York City during the first few months of our daughter’s life, I was witness to an array of women from all walks of life, culture, ethnicity who  where claiming breastfeeding as a natural process in human procreation and in turn making that choice for their own families.  I also learned a lot about the history of breastfeeding in the United States and the drastic decline of breastfed children, and about places like La Leche Legue and their effort in creating a resurgent breastfeeding movement.  Even then, I was not prepared for the utter shock of being  a breastfeeding mother in America.

When I began breastfeeding in the thick of NYC I felt that my chichi worlds were beginning to collide.  I came from this rich tradition of breastfeeding and chichis hanging about,  to the judgmental and shocked gazes in NYC buses and subways,  not to mention the one dude trying to get a good look at it for his own satisfaction.   I often felt that I had to protect my breastfeeding space, and cover my exposed body to retain the sacredness of my relationships with my daughter.   I chose to hold on to Natural Law, while my close sistah-friends and I photographed those NYC years of breastfeeding.   My daughter will be able to look back and see herself nursing on subways, parks, buses, streets, stoops and realize the normality of such relationship even in an urban setting.    It was so empowering to have felt that genealogical right, irregardless of the negative setting, it nourished my soul and  I am sure that of our first daughter.

I’ve come a long way from breastfeeding on the rush hours  of  NYC subways.  With our second, our son Caoba, I have been able to give myself fully to the relaxing chichi time while gazing at the tall  Cedar and Douglas Fir forests of  British Columbia, while being supported by the community I live in.  It truly is a relaxing experience  not only to my son or to me, but even to our first born daughter who is now five years old  and cuddles by our side, or uses it as down time for herself.  It is in this setting, as well as the setting of my mind, that I can give myself fully to the experience of nursing and benefit from  the love that is part of our bonds.   When I bring all of these experiences together, it makes me be that much more determined to work towards a world  that can provide nurturing and empowering environments to all nursing mothers, irregardless of how long they choose to nurse for.  STRESS FREE is key to a beautiful healthy relaxing nursing relationship.   And a beautiful healthy relaxing nursing experience leads families and children toward well nourished selves.  This is why my genes were strong!  We are talking about hundreds, thousands, a millenia of years of women nursing children.  So much so, that our ancestors, and here I mean our women ancestors, yours too, figured out that if they followed Natural Law and maintained a natural relationship to nursing children,  that in the long run it would have an effect into the coding of our genes!   By that I mean that an environment was tested, created, practiced, upheld so that such gene coding could manifest itself to its full potential, the evolution of each child and each family.  I end this by asking you my sistah, and you my brother, to change our world one nursing at a time.  Help each nursing mother and child you come across by ensuring a Stress Free environment, let go of your judgments, offer a pillow, smile, relax yourself, support in any way you can!  And to nursing mothers, you are not alone!

Posted 7 months, 3 weeks ago at 8:07 pm.

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Unschooling

I have been doing my initial research around unschooling as of late.  And I have to ask, why is it that as  humans we continuously want to define, categorize and name everything?  Though its sounds as an open ended and ridiculous question, I am seriously asking.

My recent thoughts spring from reading The Unschooling Handbook by  Mary Griffith, which is by the way a nice compilation of the voices and experiences of unschooling families (both parents and children).  It is also filled with great resource lists at the end of each chapter.  Which is  why I am up until almost midnight trying to find the books she lists on our library’s online catalogue.    While I am thoroughly enjoying the uplifting and clarifying voices of unschooling families (mostly American), I  keep coming back to the previous question, why do we need to name this way of learning?  I know there is some specialist of the left brain out there who can answer this question scientifically  to me.  But the images that answer that question in my mind are those of a people who are ever unhappy with who they are, what they have, and how they are living.  Feeling constantly plagued by the need to control the world around them.

In terms of unschooling, well, why categorize something that is truly the most natural way of learning? Not only natural, but has been the primary practice of child rearing, educating and community building in the history of humanity, and i mean here in particular the indigenous communities around the globe.

Having had the privilege of seeing what an alternative way of learning feels like and looks like from the indigenous perspective, I can definitely say, the idea of sitting in a room full  of people looking at a board and copying from it, definitely did not come from a happy people.  A happy people are those who are at peace with who they are and where they are, and understand their purpose and responsibility to self, community and nature.  I know that the Tzeltal people had been unschooling before it became a word, and definitely before they were forced to send their children to school miles away from home.  It is thanks to school that our Tzeltal language is  being lost.   Though in the most recent years there has been a push for bilingual education to counteract this language genocide (my father and uncle being two of the first bilingual teachers to retire in our community).  Who is going to tell us in the villages  that we should keep our kids at home instead of sending them to school?  It is a priviledge to homeschool and unschool for sure, but more so its a privelegde and an often overlooked  power to be able to categorize, name and define life and its different aspects, even when those turn out to be radical ones.

Nonetheless, we are unschooling.

Posted 1 year, 7 months ago at 11:58 pm.

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