I came to New York a year ago with minimal assets: a pretty voice, a little guitar, and a feature length screenplay saved to my google docs. I somehow magically formed a friendship with Michael Galinsky, a filmmaker based in Brooklyn- he wanted to interview me for a documentary he is slowly making about his family history, and the potentially numerous children he has sired through his work as an anonymous sperm donor in the 90′s. After spending some time with Michael he eventually agreed to read the script I had written and give me some pointers on it. After reading it he decided he wanted to help me make the movie! But there was still a lot of work left to do on the script before it would be a viable, competitive story in the festival circuit.
Since his engagement as my co-writer, I have had my world turned upside down. Allow me to explain…
A screenwriter’s goal is to create memorable characters. The world’s most celebrated story-tellers may very well be masters of plot, but more often their success is granted because of the interesting, honest, memorable characters they create. People remember characters long after they forget plot points. And to make a memorable character, he, she, or it must be dynamic- we must see their virtues alongside their flaws. Without flaws, there is no story. Without something to overcome, there is no conflict; there is no growth; there is no story.
So we discovered my story was flawed because I had characters with no flaws. The character I speak of: Mother.
Two years ago if you had asked me about my relationship to my mother I would have told you it was perfect. I would have said she is the smartest woman I know, the most beautiful woman I know, the most creative… I would describe our bond as solid and pure. While my female peers in high school all went through phases where they hated their mothers and rebelled against their authority, I was perplexed by their ungratefulness to the woman that brought them into the world. Then I would go home, give my mom a foot rub, tell her how much I loved her and bask in a thankfulness that I had such a good relationship with my mom. I couldn’t get enough mom time, I loved her so much.
She was without flaw.
And so this attitude was reflected in my writing. The Infallible Mother: Goddess of the Universe, permeated the essence of the character I had written in the screenplay. Michael knew this wasn’t going to fly. “She needs a flaw!” he said. “The story isn’t interesting unless the characters have flaws!” He began to spit out a list of potential flaws and see if any of them resonated with me. “None of those work,” I said. “I had a great relationship with my mom. She’s amazing.”
Finally after months of prodding on Michael’s part, it hit me. He kept coming at me with character development exercises. “What does she eat? What does she drive? Where does she live? What movies does she watch? What does she buy? Who does she marry? What TV shows does she watch?” I began to make a list of answers to these questions. Then I began to see how it fit into my story. And my rose-colored lens morphed into an HD camera.
I studied Advertising for three years before dropping out and deciding I didn’t want to sell unnecessary products to innocent, vulnerable people. I would have been an Account Planner, studying consumer psychology and the motivations behind purchases. I would have been very good at my job. It would have been easy money for me. But morally I couldn’t dedicate my life and labor to manipulating the public’s insecurities for profit. But in my studies what I did learn is that people are predictable in their purchasing habits. And you can read a person’s personality and value system like you can read musical notes- all you have to do is take note of their past purchasing history and key consumption choices like: what do they eat? what do they drive? where do they live? what movies do they watch? what do the buy? and what TV shows do they watch? This creates a character outline. It is dehumanizing. But it is effective.
And so I made a list.
Food: Quicker is better totes Mom. Instant everything! I remember one Thanksgiving, I wanted to make my own pumpkin pie. I thought to myself, it will taste better if we make it from scratch. As I underwent the high-pressure task of making a decent pie for my family and laboriously spending hours shopping, assembling, and adjusting for my pumpkin pie, my mom made the comment, “Why don’t you just go to the store and buy one? It will be so much easier.”
Yes, and for some people hiring a prostitute is the easier way to get laid, but doesn’t falling in love, getting to know someone, and cultivating a bond with them make sex so much more satisfying?
Car: Mom drives a Prius. Good right? What a holistic approach to transportation? It would be… if it weren’t for intention. In the state of California we have commuter lanes. Lanes marked by a diamond mean that during rush hour, only carpools, motorcycles and hybrid vehicles are allowed to use that lane- in an effort to reduce congestion and pollution. The commuter lane can save you hours off your commute. I said to my mom when she bought it, “I’m really proud of you for getting a green car, Mom.” “Yea…” she said, “I don’t really care about that- I just needed to get to my appointments faster.”
Faster. Americans love doing things fast.
Location: I’ve illustrated this point before. We have lived in every American paradise you can think of. Unhappy with the rural Midwest, my childhood migrations plopped and uprooted my sister and I from the glories of New Mexico’s enchanted desertscapes, Florida’s Emerald Coast, Hawaii’s tropical lava beaches, to San Francisco’s majestic mountains, saturated blue Pacific coastlines, and grand redwood forests. In many ways I’ve been very lucky to live in such beautiful places. But I am curious as to why a pretty beach could ever trump the sacredness of land your family has lived on for generation upon generation.
TV: The kicker of characterization came for me when I thought back on my mom’s favorite TV shows. What were the shows she watched religiously and commented upon regularly? Remember that show The Swan? “Ugly” women would clamor for a chance for a laundry list of free plastic surgery, personal training, and therapy sessions in their quest to become “beautiful”. In this video, a woman defends her 138 lb. frame to her coach. “I think I look damn good,” she says. The coach gives nothing but a disappointed scowl. The message is, not skinny enough fatty. This was my mom’s favorite show. “Do you think they would accept me if I tried out for the show?” she would say. Then she rattled off a list of all the “work” she wanted to get done.
It confused me why the most beautiful woman in the world to me needed to change her face and body to feel okay about herself. Didn’t she know how perfect she was in my eyes?
In developing the characterization for the role that is essentially my mother I remembered a fight I once had with her about whether or not I should drop out of school. She wanted me to stay and finish. I didn’t want to be a corporate sell-out for a living and was building up enough self-esteem as a songwriter to think that I could be successful in the music industry if I gave it a shot. “I’ve always given you everything you’ve ever wanted,” she said. “Now I have to tell all my friends that my daughter is a college drop-out.”
Two things bothered me about these words.
- One- that she defines submission to whims and desires as virtuous. As if nothing could be better than getting what you want, all the time.
- Two- that my major life decisions and pursuits are primarily serving her needs, mainly pride and bragging rights. Pay no matter to the child’s inner turmoil and unhappiness as long as the shiny degree gets framed and hung above the mantle.
This is all of course very personal. But yet it’s not. On a micro-level I should be ashamed to divulge the flaws of the woman I most love in a public forum. On a macro-level I am making broad statement about a personality type. Because as I learned in Advertising, you can tell a lot about a person by what they buy. And my mom, bought sperm from a stranger. I have reason to suspect that other women who buy sperm from strangers, may have a lot in common with my mom.
I still love my mom. In fact, I am my mom. My body is her body. My voice is her voice. My preferences are her preferences. She made me and I am her. I am she as you are she as you are me and we are all together. I love her. I respect her. But I also respect myself and my fellow humanity and if I ask myself, what can be improved upon regarding commercial conception?, I am forced to question her motivations.
As a former student of consumer psychology and character development, as a writer, as a daughter of commercial conception, it is my opinion that parents who use reproductive technologies like artificial insemination, egg donation, and surrogacy have a diminished appreciation of the sacred and will likely indoctrinate their children (probably half, according to the My Daddy’s Name Is Donor report), into the same disregard for bio-ethical/consumer wholeness.
There are value similarities and cultural threads that qualify a demographic of parents capable of deliberately denying a child access to their family history and biological roots. In a world with nuclear weapons, the potential for bio-terrorism, and a string of emerging ethical dilemmas involving technology and human will, do we really want to empower this demographic to give birth and raise an expanding number of people likely to adopt their parent’s disregard for the sacred?
I’m just calling it like I see it.
Categories: General
Alana,
I have spent a great deal of my life involved in Judaism, and the search for meaning and God in the world. To blanket those of us who have used donation and surrogacy as somehow so separated from the sacred that we are certain to “indoctrinate” our children is similar to speaking of “those Jews and their money” and “those gays and their promiscuity” – generalizations that are precisely the opposite of the kind of human values and communication that you say you wish to espouse.
Speaking just as one parent, I have given plenty of thought to many of the issues you bring up about donation. But we have come to different conclusions about it. If you want to not have a conversation about this with those of us who don’t agree with you, that’s absolutely your right! But are you aware that by painting us with that broad brush, that is what you’re doing? Is that what you’d prefer?
Our children are being raised without a mother. I know there are some who think that’s close to criminal. I believe that the gift of life is sacred, and I take full responsibility for my actions as well as my duties in the coming years, with full thought beforehand, and a prayer to God that my partner and I are able to raise our kids well. If possible, I hope to learn from the experiences of people like yourself in this journey. If that back and forth can happen, perhaps you might come to see some of us as just as fully human and full of sacred-ness as you see yourself.
Hi Ralph.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment. And I understand and acknowledge the validity of your response. And I will be the first to recognize the controversy in this blog post.
“If that back and forth can happen, perhaps you might come to see some of us as just as fully human and full of sacred-ness as you see yourself.”
You misunderstood me. The problem is, because of my conception, I do not see myself as fully human. I feel HALF human. In many ways I feel separated and alienated from my traditionally conceived friends- like a freak. And I am NOT full of sacred-ness. This was also one of my points. I was an inch away from going into Advertising, one of the most generally mis-trusted and corrupt professions in the public perception. I’ve also sold my eggs and committed several other “un-sacred” acts, of which I won’t go into detail here. I am trying to understand why.
I also know that many of my decisions and character traits that I thought were unique, like changing my name a million times and selling my eggs, are actually very typical of my commercially conceived peers. Our behaviors, as it turns out, are predictable. So I can reasonably assume it is because we were raised in similar environments by people with similar value systems.
My mother is human and so are you. I’m sorry if you felt dehumanized by my blog post. But please understand that I feel dehumanized every day as a result of my conception.
Another commercially-conceived colleague once said to me, “the most amazing thing about this whole process is how good people are capable of inflicting so much pain.”
my mom, in sum, is a good person. Her desires and flaws are mostly benign. After all, is it so bad to want a kid? Well, no….
But there will always be things we want, and the means in which we procure those “things” speaks loudly about our character.
If you’ve studied criminal psychology at all you’ll see that most criminals have a motivation- an explanation as to why perpetrating that crime would make the world, or their world, a better place. Often it’s easy to empathize with their point of view. Is it so wrong for a poor man to steal after all? If he’s hungry?
I believe there are creative ways for society to address hunger while avoiding the need for the poor to steal.
I also believe there are creative ways for society to address baby-lust, while we avoid the mistake of creating children deliberately removed from their history and kin.
I’m trying to think of analogy you’d appreciate.
Remember when Dan White assassinated Mayor Moscone and Harvey Milk? Remember the Twinkie Defense?
Dan White got off on man-slaughter because the jury was convinced that his depression led to a “diminished mental capacity”. In other words, he was good person, going through a tough time- which resulted in two dead beloved public officials.
Now, I perceive my conception as the death of my father- more like a murder by the fertility industry. Although I understand my mother’s “diminished capacity” to make wise decisions because of her baby-lust… I understand her to be a good person GENERALLY, but it was still a crime in my eyes for my father to be “killed” or “removed” or “denied”, whatever you want to call it.
The death of Harvey Milk was murder and the majority of San Franciscans agree a man-slaughter verdict was unjust.
I believe commercial conception and the so-to-speak “altruism” the industry and its parents purport is also false and unjust.
Alana, you really are a terrific and persuasive writer. I am always amazed at how smoothly the words flow from your fingers. I am with you up to the point of generalizing women who use donor sperm as extremely selfish.
I have been thinking a lot about community recently, and in my community I know a lot of smc’s and lesbian couples with kids. One of my very good friends is gay and has a child with a lesbian friend. He is an extraordinary father. My young daughter took an art class with a friend whose mother is a doting, loving smc. These are the people that I interact with on a daily basis. It seems unfair to them to make such broad judgments about their character and intentions.
I agree with Dr. Brinich at UNC (his letter to the Times was published regarding the study) – that the technology has gotten ahead of the ethics. I think we all want the same thing – for everybody to take a deep breath and be more thoughtful about the ethical implications of these technologies as we go forward.
However, if we take a broad brush and declare that SMC’s are selfish, it’s gonna be hard to get them to come to the party. I think the majority are going forward with good intentions – using the best information that they have. Unfortunately they are primarily getting their information from an industry that doesn’t have a lot of incentive to raise ethical questions. I imagine that some people would think twice before conceiving with a donor if they had more information – and a lot have thought twice (three times and four times even) and decided to go forward the best way they know how.
As a DC person you have expressed that non DC people cannot truly understand your situation. I agree and empathize with your plight. I think that the same is true for donors, smc’s, lesbian and gay couples as well. As a 24 year-old it may be difficult to understand how powerful the desire for motherhood might be at 40 with the clock ticking.
When we stereotype groups we stop listening to them. It’s much more complicated and messy (kind of like making a pie vs. buying one) to deal with individuals as individuals but in the end a lot more satisfying.
In closing I want to say that I can also completely relate to the anger that you feel towards your mother. I have had some issues with anger at my own parents. They are wonderful in some ways and yet I believe that some of their behaviors were damaging to me. As a parent who is working the best I can to be a great father- and often failing at that goal – I have a lot more empathy for their failings. It certainly helps me to forgive them their sins, which also helps me to forgive myself.
I concede to your point about “when we stereotype people, we stop listening.”
Right now, I will say that I am definitely seeking out patterns in behavior that I know must be there. But you’re right- if I stop listening to smbc and the gay community, and infertile straight couples too, then I am saying to them its okay for them to stop listening to me and the kids.
But still, I’d like to continue to pose the question and ask parents to be honest with themselves about their motivations to use ART. And I’d like for Donor Kids to look at themselves and ask themselves were they raised in families with a diminished appreciation of the sacred.
Because I think asking those questions is still important. And we may likely find that in GENERAL, there is truth to it. Though there are always exceptions. But I see these patterns all the time.
When Gary and Tony were interviewed on CNN for the “Gary & Tony Have A Baby” special. They were asked, “Why couldn’t you just adopt?”
Their answer VERBATIM: “This route just seemed quickest… Tony did father a child with friends of ours and he knew the joy of fathering a biological offspring and he wanted me to have that same experience.”
QUICKER.
An admission of the joy of a biological link (and pursuit thereof while simultaneously denying a child the right to THEIR biological link).
this is the crux.
I think you absolutely need to pose questions and challenge assumptions. I’m simply suggesting that you make an effort to do it with a bit more empathy, considering how you have been injured by stereotyping, and how it might harm others.
The idea that there is truth in generalities is a very slippery slope. Generalities are the kind of shorthand that leads to things like the easy dismissal of the info in my daddys ne is donor.
one more thought-in regards to the sacred.
My father had complete contempt for the sacred. I ended up a religious studies major. I was fascinated by it, and still am. I love my father- but he also had a tendency to jump in whenever anything got to sacred – in order to ruin it. When he walked my sister down the aisle he leaned in and said, “You’re on your own now baby.” He thought he was being funny. She burst into tears and cried for 10 minutes. They had to pause the ceremony.
When we feel that our situation is lacking we often see others as ideal. I had a loving mother and a father who stayed together – as did my wife. Neither situation was ideal. They had plenty of problems and still do- as do we. You have written of how simple and perfect a family with a mother, a father, and a child is. We have two children and some months things flow- other times they don’t. Sometimes we go out and get a babysitter and they scream and cry. Not so simple. Geometry is simple, but people are not.
Thanks for your reply, Alana. I can’t speak for other parents, obviously, either on what their intentions were in having children, or in what way those children will be raised. I can speak for my motives, though.
My mother died when I was 15 months old. It was a tragedy for my father, of course, one that was compounded by a meager income and three young children to raise. Within a year, however, he met a widow whose husband had also died tragically around the same time. She had two children from that marriage. They married when I was 2 ½, and I grew up knowing this mixed bio/non-bio family as my norm. I always knew the truth about my family’s origins, as it wasn’t kept a secret at all.
Shortly after they married, my parents visited a psychologist of some sort, who in a 1960s kind of way, advised them to hide all signs of the deceased spouses, and mention them as little as possible, in the most neutral kind of way. This was his recommendation on how best to integrate a blended family like ours.
I never saw a picture of my biological mother until I was 14 years old. Truly, I only rarely thought about her for most of my childhood. Due to the dearth of information, there was little to think about.
I moved away from home shortly after college, and established myself thousands of miles away. Life in my 20s was a little wild, but mostly miserable – not knowing what I was supposed to be doing with my life, and hanging out with people who were similarly aimlessly drifting. I started therapy.
Therapy, like it often does, awakened all sorts of conflicting feelings toward my parents, among them, anger at my father for willy-nilly accepting this so-called psychologist’s recommendation to squash any mention of my mother. At the age of 27, I began to try and find out who she was.
It was difficult in some ways, because my father didn’t want to discuss it at all; he felt it was disrespectful to my step-mother. I went through a strong period where I thought I could pinpoint many of my then-troubles on this emotional dishonesty of his, as well as on the absence of my imagined warm thumping presence of “Mother.”
Many years have passed. Anger at my father gradually morphed into acceptance. I recognize that he did the best he could given the circumstances. Most importantly, without the struggles I’ve had with him and my step-mother, and wrestling with who my mother was, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I’m fortunate in all ways in my life, and I feel blessed and grateful. I recognize that in a sense, my mother died so that I could have the life I’ve had. The lessons I’ve learned from the experience of her absence are valuable and profound. I don’t know what I would be like if she hadn’t died. That’s a hopeless conjecture to me.
I tell this story because none of us have perfect biographies. People do all sorts of things, accidents happen, there is pain and joy mixed completely together. But we are alive, participating in this unbelievable miracle of life. In passing that miracle on to my children, I’m aware that there are things that will be deprived of them. There are also things they will have that others won’t. Just like me, and pretty much like everyone I know, they will have to, as has been said here many times, “work it out.”
The gift of life comes with no promises, and that includes growing up with your biological mother and father. Even if it can be proven that children born specifically with their two biological parents fare better on average than those born without them, I don’t see that it means that we, as a culture, should ban it. It’s not a criteria of parenthood that you provide perfect scenarios for your children. If it was, most people shouldn’t be born. I do think that donation and surrogacy should be discussed more, hidden much less, and perhaps regulated much more.
I hope this adds to the discussion.
Ralph….thank you for sharing your story and thoughts. I am listening and letting it digest along with Alana’s experiences as well. There is validity in both.
Ralph- I’m going to respond to your comment in a new blog post.
Thank you so much for sharing your story.
I definitely understand what you mean, but I think there is more to consider.