Editor,

Is there something lacking, I wonder, from a life wherein one’s role is essentially that of a baby-producer and little more? Where one’s value is defined by one’s ability to produce progeny and nurture them to a state of maturity? It sounds a bit mundane, perhaps, and, in the eyes of a late-20th century college student, unfulfilling, but consider the advantages: One who leads this life is important! She (oops! I’ve given it away) is guarded with others’ lives! She’s the first into the lifeboat, she’s offered a jacket when the weather suddenly turns, and she is encouraged to remain healthy–free from drink, late nights, excursions from the shelter of home.

To be completely honest, there is a downside: being a baby-maker, there really isn’t much sense in her acquiring an education to speak of, or any professional skills, for that matter–other than those of a child-raiser. And her opinion on matters outside of the health of her children is not exactly actively sought; in fact, blessed is she who has none!

But let my description of her attributes end on a high note: you see, whereas "most of us will be forgotten. . . no man ever forgot that he had a mother."

This last point comes courtesy of Professor Fred Sontag in his By the same token, they have been spared the responsibility of occupying the "glory spots" of history. This, Mr. Sontag admits, is to be lamented, but he helpfully reminds us that men want these spots just as badly as women, and that "the number of men shut out of memorial glory, who still reside in the ‘obscure’ file, far exceeds the number of women arguing for recognition."