The new Prince of Wales, now first heir to the throne, said: “On Thursday, the world lost an extraordinary leader, whose commitment to the country, the Realms and the Commonwealth was absolute.
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“So much will be said in the days ahead about the meaning of her historic reign. I, however, have lost a grandmother.”
“I have had the benefit of the Queen’s wisdom and reassurance into my fifth decade,” William said of his grandmother in his statement on Saturday.
“My wife has had twenty years of her guidance and support. My three children have got to spend holidays with her and create memories that will last their whole lives.”
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In what could be seen as a references to his wedding to Kate and, possibly, to his mother’s death, he added: “She was by my side at my happiest moment. And she was by my side during the saddest days of my life.”
On Saturday morning, the Prince of Wales, together with Camilla, Queen Consort, was witness to the formal proclamation of his father as King Charles III.
The Prince said that while he grieves the Queen’s loss, he also feels “incredibly grateful”.
“I thank her for the kindness she showed my family and me,” he said. “And I thank her on behalf of my generation for providing an example of service and dignity in public life that was from a different age, but always relevant to us all.”
Echoing the words of his father, he said: “I knew this day would come, but it will be some time before the reality of life without Grannie will truly feel real.”
“My grandmother famously said that grief was the price we pay for love,” he said.
“All of the sadness we will feel in the coming weeks will be testament to the love we felt for our extraordinary Queen. I will honour her memory by supporting my father, The King, in every way I can.”
It’s time to forget about the bleak news cycle for a moment and celebrate this athlete’s incredible race.
Not only did Scottish runner Eilish McColgan win the 10,000m at the Commonwealth Games on Wednesday night with a home crowd and make a new record championship time of 30:48:60, her success has sparked a great sense of nostalgia.
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Eilish, 31, just won exactly the same Commonwealth Championship race her mum, Liz Nuttall, won 32 years ago, proving it really does run in the family.
The athlete, who has struggled with injuries in the past, was not in the lead until the final lap around the track when she suddenly overtook Kenyan rival Irine Cheptai in the home straight.
Unsurprisingly, Eilish sprinted over to her mum in the crowds when she realised she had won the race, and they shared a tender moment.
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The following morning, Eilish told BBC Breakfast: “It was just an incredible experience, being in that stadium…the noise over the last 200m honestly just dragged me to that finish line.
“It was just an incredible evening and even more special to have my mum in the crowd, my dad, my partner Michael – it feels surreal to have won that so many years after my mum. I can’t put it into words.”
She said her mum simply told her “you’ve done it” when they had a celebratory hug at the end of the race.
Eilish also said she was “really nervous” before she hit the track, but that she couldn’t believe it when she not only won, but made a record time.
“I’ve actually only seen it once because a journalist sort of forced me to watch it when I was little, but it was never something that… I grew up with my mum allowing me to make my own decisions, my mum never pushed me into athletics and I never saw her medals.
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“I was never forced to watch her races or anything like that, I made my own decision to come into this sport and I think that’s why I love it so much, I’m very passionate about it.”
“I don’t think it’s quite sunk in that I’ve literally replicated exactly what she’s done. It’s just very surreal right now.”
EILISH MCCOLGAN OH MY WORD!!! 🤯
Scotland’s fourth gold medal today and what a way to win it! 🥳
Matching her mother Liz’s success in Edinburgh in 1986 by winning the 10,000m❤️ pic.twitter.com/ieTe4I6Dk0
Eilish’s mother Liz also told BBC Radio’s Good Morning Scotland of her immense pride for her daughter, whom she still coaches.
Liz won two 10,000m Commonwealth gold medals in 1986 in Edinburgh and again in 1990 Auckland. She also became a world champion in 1991 and an Olympic silver medal in 1988.
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She said: “As an athlete myself, you have fond memories of having success and whatever but when it’s your own children it’s like 100 times better.
’It’s just one of those really special moments and I was just thankful I was actually in the stadium and able to experience how the home support helped lift her to that gold medal.”
She also claimed that without the Birmingham crowd, “the last 150m would never have happened” for her daughter.
This is probably not a question Prince William is asking himself as enters his fifth decade. But the Duke of Cambridge’s birthday has got us thinking about milestone ages, and why some of us place so much significance on certain numbers.
For women, approaching ‘The Big Four O’ often means discussions of fertility and the biological clock intensify (whether or not you want children and even though a woman doesn’t suddenly wake up on her birthday unable to conceive).
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But what’s at the forefront of men’s minds as they approach this age? We asked a bunch of guys aged 39 and over to find out.
‘I get a lot of stick for being single still’
“I’m almost 40, single, with no permanent long-term job. I still love travelling and exploring and totally lack any sort of plan. But I’m kind of okay with that.
“At 40, you’re expected to have job security, a demonstration of some sort of career progression, where you’ve ended up with a bigger salary, a nicer suit and a nicer house.
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“I get a lot of stick for being single still. All my friends are in marriages or second marriages in some cases, people say: ‘you’re not going to get sorted are you?’ Every now and then, you do question your life choices. There are always going to be periods in a 12 month calendar where you’re going to have a couple of phases of self-doubt, where you might question the way you’ve done things. You might feel a bit sorry for yourself and have a bit of a pity party. But on the whole I’m quite content with where things are – I’ve seen a lot of the world, I’ve met a lot of great people. I’ve been very, very fortunate in that sense.” – Stephen Boyd, 39, Lincolnshire
‘I was fine with turning 40, but turning 41 hit me hard’
“Turning 40 didn’t phase me, but when I turned 41 I began to obsess over the fact that my life was in a type of descent towards the inevitable end, and that my best experiences were behind me. I was also worried that if I had a child I’d have a limited amount of time to be in their life. My dad was 53 when I was born and I was teased about it at school, so I didn’t want to be an ‘old dad’.
“As it turned out I was 43 when my daughter was born so I beat him by 10 years! Now my life is all about watching her grow and develop (she’ll be three in August) and it has given me joy but also anxiety. I’m trying to live in the moment now because I don’t want to have more regrets than I already do, and I want my daughter to have the happiest and most secure childhood I can give her. So now I don’t obsess as much over my age or my past as I have a real focus on ensuring Flora is happy and loved.” – Peter McKerry, 45, Westcliff-on-Sea
‘Men get more of a free pass’
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“I turn 44 this week and love it. I think 30 was more of hurdle for me psychologically, as it was the age where I felt you needed to knuckle down to some responsibilities and achievements personally and professionally, as well as resenting the fact I was no longer young and carefree. So by your 40s, you can enjoy all the new challenges and opportunities that come your way.
“There’s far more pressure on women at all ages but particularly 40s to have a great career and be a mum, I think. As far as media and peer pressure goes, men get more of a free pass. I’m lucky in the sense family and friends have never had any great competition between us to do well, some days are a grind, some days are easy. If you set yourself targets you lose sight of what’s important, which in my case is just trying to enjoy whatever it is I’m doing.” –Andy Dewar, 44, Hamilton, Scotland
‘I haven’t altered anything’
“I felt perfectly fine [approaching 40], with no pre-conceived thoughts of 40 being an issue and prohibiting me from what I can do physically and mentally. I look younger than my age so perhaps that played a fact in my mindset.
Has anything about being 40 surprised me? No not at all, why should it? I haven’t altered anything about my lifestyle to encompass my age or felt as if I had needed to.” – Michael Charles Grant, 40, Hertfordshire
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‘Turning 40 made me re-evaluate my health and fitness’
″40… oh, that sounds old. Well, that was the thinking I had when I was in my mid 30s and heading towards 40. Society slots you into a category when your age starts with a four. I had just had my twin boys Alex and Lewis a few months before and dealing with them was really taxing on the mind and body. It was then also that I decided that ‘Dad Bod’ wasn’t something I liked and that I needed to do something about it. General fitness levels were poor and I found myself struggling with day to day tasks in dealing with two newborns. So I said to myself ‘Paul, you’re now 40, you’ve got the twins to think about, you don’t want two young boisterous boys growing up with a dad that can’t keep up… time to get into shape.’ It was a ‘If I don’t do this now, I never will’, moment.
“I’m in better shape now that I was in my 20s and 30s. Confident in how I look, with loads of energy for playing with the twins. My change in physique also motivated my wife to get back to the gym too, plus it has brought us closer with shared interest in fitness and just being better for our sons. Also, more body confident = more intimacy too.” – Paul McCaw, 46, Belfast Northern Ireland
‘Every decade has got better for me.’
“Every decade has got better for me so – despite the birthday itself not feeling like a big deal – I was really excited that my 40s would continue that trend.
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“My 30s were where I started to put into action the stuff that I had discovered in my 20s. I left my really great job in the public service (which I totally loved) to start my own business in brewing. My wife and I started the business, had three kids, and then moved our business and family from New Zealand to UK. It was busy beyond belief, but we were both doing things we loved. Coming up for seven years into my 40s and despite the clusterfucks of Brexit and Covid, I’m having the time of my life!
“While there’s immense privilege in being a man – and that’s something far too few men understand – I think there’s a lot of pressure on men to achieve certain things by certain ages. I’m constantly aware of how, at certain stage in my life, I feel like I’ve still not grown up. And I wonder if my parents felt the same. I do remember my dad telling me that he didn’t actually feel safe and comfortable in his life until he was in his 50s. I totally get that. I guess a part of it is kids growing up and releasing that weight of expectation around looking after them.” – Stu McKinlay, 46, London
Don’t believe us? Ask mum-of-one Kate Everall, who’s taken her son since he was born, or mum-of-three Amie Jones, whose made wearing the family’s Pride-themed babygrow a rite of passage among her horde.
The fastest way to teach kids #LoveIsLove is by celebrating it in all forms from day one. Add in some rainbow flags, glitter and fun and they won’t question it one jot.
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As writer Victoria Richards put it, explaining LGBTQ+ relationships to kids is actually very simple: “Try it: ‘Some men love men, some women love women and some people love both (or neither).’ Ta da.”
Pride is the perfect time to normalise queer love, to show kids that they don’t have to play “mums and dads” in the playground, and that they’ll be loved at home always, whoever they turn out to be. For LGBTQ+ parents, it’s also an opportunity for kids to see more families like their own.
We spoke to five families who enjoy Pride about what it means to them and their little ones.
‘Pride is a time to celebrate our queer family’
“We take our children to Pride because we feel it’s integral to their future, and the future of other human beings, to be surrounded by a diverse community. We also feel Pride is a time to celebrate our queer family in a safe and fun way. It’s essential they are able to grow knowing they can be their true selves, and Pride is a time for us to really celebrate our diversity, amongst a community that accepts us for who we are.
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“It’s become even more essential since Zoey came out as transgender, as the world can feel very bleak at times for the trans community. However, Pride gives us a chance to feel fully accepted and loved as the LGBTQ+ family we are.” – Kelly Allen, 40, who runs ourtransitionallife.com with her wife, Zoey
‘A great way to teach our boys what it means to be an ally.’
“We have taken our three boys to our local Pride event in Chester since they were very young – and we even have a Pride inspired outfit for them to wear. The photos show my oldest son Dylan (now seven years) and my youngest son Huw (now two years) in the same Pride romper! Unfortunately, I don’t have any photos of us actually at Pride, as we are always having too much fun!
“As founder of Kind Kids Book Club – the UK’s first children’s book club with a focus on nurturing social conscience and sharing inclusive stories – Pride is an important celebration for our family and a great way to teach our boys what it means to be an ally. They always love the day – the atmosphere is brilliant, everyone is so friendly and there’s so much to see and do!” – Amie Jones, 37, Bagillt, North Wales
‘There’s no one way to be a family.’
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“We celebrate Pride month by attending our local Pride event and decorating at home. Pre-Covid we attended Pride as a family and they had Drag Queen Story Time, a children’s dance stage and a soft play area. We have diverse books out all year round, not just for one month, however we make a conscious effort to read these and encourage preschool to do the same!
“It is so importance for Honey to celebrate Pride and our family so that she realises just how diverse every family can be! There’s no one way to be a family and each one can look different, but it’s about showing that each one has something in common: love!” – Caprice Fox, 32 from Bristol
‘I want him to grow up enriched.’
“Pride is incredibly important to us as a family, which is why when our son came along we would continue our tradition of attending Brighton Pride.
“For us, Pride means ‘community’. It’s a time we feel less isolated and othered;. It also gives us an opportunity to meet up with other LGBTQ families – and making friends along the way, so that our son doesn’t feel as isolated as we were when growing up.
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“Our son is currently seven, and we’ve been attending Pride events and celebrations since he was born. For us, it’s important that he sees himself seen and represented in society, not to mention witnesses what other families look like. I want him to grow up enriched; knowing that there’s no one way to be a family and that your family is often more than just blood.” – Kate Everall, Brighton, founder of Lesbemums
‘She would ask me when pride was happening again’
“I have taken my daughter to Pride In London, Canterbury Pride and Amsterdam Pride. All of these events are different and I wanted to show her how different people celebrate Pride.
“To me, Pride means supporting people with their life choices, I grew up in a time when it was taboo (I am 49). It was frowned upon and I remember that it was always a scandal when an actor or singer announced they were gay. People that were transitioning into the opposite sex were laughed at and ridiculed. I did not want any of my kids to grow up without understanding and supporting people’s choices.
“Matilda was about six years old when I first went to Pride in London. We went by accident, but then she would ask me when Pride was happening again. Then in 2019 we decided to fly out to Amsterdam early one morning and attend Amsterdam Pride. Instead of the parade going through the streets, it was all on the canals in the city. It was awesome, a complete game-changer for Pride.
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“When she was little she loved the vibrance of pride, she loved meeting different people who dressed up for Pride. As she got older, she learned the history of Pride, she wanted to support everyone more. She has held a sign up before offering hugs to members of the LGBTQ community and I am so proud of her.” – Vicky Warren, 49, Kent, who runs the blog Miss Tilly And Me
For parents dating again, figuring out when to introduce a new partner to your kids is a tricky calculus: How many months should you wait? Does the relationship feel stable and safe enough to take that step? Is your child emotionally ready to meet someone new since you split from your co-parent? What will your ex say?
The stress doesn’t end there; once the introductions have been made, you need to check in with your kids to make sure it’s all not too much, too fast, and that they’re comfortable around your new partner.
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This common post-divorce dilemma has played out on a very public stage in recent months, since reality star Kim Kardashian has started dating Saturday Night Livekim comedian Pete Davidson.
Things seem to be going swimmingly for the new couple, but Kardashian’s ex, Kanye West, has expressed concern about Davidson’s relationship with his kids. (At one point West even dramatically wrote, “NO YOU WILL NEVER MEET MY CHILDREN” on an Instagram post.)
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Still, photos taken recently show that Davidson has met the couple’s kids. And earlier this month, another photo popped up showing what appears to be a new tattoo for the comedian: The ink reads KNSCP, letters many fans believe stand for Kardashian’s four children with West: North, Saint, Chicago, and Psalm.
Family therapists we spoke to wondered just how committed a person could be after roughly six months of dating.
“The tattoo seems more like evidence of his impulsivity rather than his genuine attachment to his girlfriend’s kids, which he could not possibly have in any substantive way after only six months,” says Virginia Gilbert, a Los Angeles-based therapist specialising in high-conflict divorce.
“I think six months is too soon to meet her kids, especially with an in-process messy divorce and Kanye being so opposed to the meeting, but everything Kim does is in the public eye, it would have been hard to keep Pete a secret, so the question is probably moot,” she added.
Kurt Smith, a family therapist in Roseville, California, who mostly works with men, says that the desire to connect deeper with your significant other by showing interest in their kids is understandable.
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Ultimately, though, new partners need to recognise that it’s a delicate dance ― one that usually requires a healthy distance.
“Pete should be asking himself why that was so important for him to do at this stage of the relationship,” he says.
Since this co-parenting quandary is top of mind for many right now, we decided to ask family therapists and other experts on blended families to share the advice they’d give to parents newly dating again like Kardashian. Here’s what they say.
First off, when should introductions be made?
For divorced parents, when to introduce and involve a new partner in children’s lives is a complex question, with no “one size fits all” answer.
For some people, six months is enough; for others, a slower approach might be necessary, says Dawn O. Braithwaite, a professor of communication studies at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
Braithwaite has spent her career studying how families interact to create, navigate and change relationships, routines and traditions, especially in stepfamilies and chosen families.
According to her, parents need to consider the following six things before making introductions:
What they believe will be the future of their new relationship
The age of the children
How long it’s been since the separation or divorce
How well children have adjusted to changes in their family situation
The relationship with the co-parent
The interest the new partner has in meeting the kids
“While there are exceptions, most scholars have found that new partners can play a positive role in children’s lives, but that they should go slow and act as a friend for children rather than overstepping and acting in ways that are confusing or inappropriate for children,” the professor says.
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Meetups should be casual at first
To avoid coming on too strong or overstepping boundaries, keep those early getting-to-know-you meetups as casual as possible: Arrange a park date or meet up for a Marvel movie and pizza.
“The onus needs to be on the new partner to meet the kids where they are ― meaning you need to participate in the kinds of things they like to do,” Gilbert says. “I would also suggest postponing adult sleepovers until the kids become comfortable with the new partner.”
Remember that your relationship is not with your partner’s kids — it’s with your partner only
If you’re the parent, reinforce that you’re not a package deal – not yet, anyway.
“Maintaining this boundary is important for both partners, the health of the new relationship, and, most importantly, for the kids’ health,” Smith says.
Move too quickly and you could quickly incur the annoyance of the kids ― and the potential ire of the other parent.
“I’ve counselled divorcing parents where his new girlfriend posted pics on social media of his kids at a birthday party like they were her own and believe me, it did not go over well with the other parent,” Smith says.
“It’s hard enough bringing in new partners and blending families, so avoiding anything that could cause tension or conflict should be avoided,” he explained.
Be comfortable being an outsider for a while.
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Kids in situations like this are usually grappling with competing, confusing concerns, says Amy Begel, a family therapist in private practice in New York City and author of the blog Most Human: “Will they betray their father if they have a relationship with this new guy? Will they betray their mother if they are loyal to their father and want to protect his feelings?”
That’s why it’s important to take a backseat for a bit if you’re the new partner. It may feel like a blow to the ego to be treated as marginal, or worse, an intruder, but patience during this process is crucial, Begel says.
As Jenna Korf, a stepmom and founder of StepmomHelp.com, previously told HuffPost, you’re an outsider joining an already-formed family – even if your partner and their kids eventually move into your home.
“A lot of this is unintentional, but kids automatically go to their parent,” she says. “You might be sitting right next to your partner and they won’t address you, often leaving you out of the conversation.”
If you’re the new partner, take the approach of a new friend or neighbour, not an automatic stepparent.
New partners should try to befriend the kids, but move at a pace determined by the kids, says Ron Deal, the founder of SmartStepfamilies.com and author of a number of popular books on blended families.
“In my book with Dr. Gary Chapman, Building Love Together in Blended Families, I tell stepparents it’s like making friends with a new neighbour,” Deal says. “You don’t just push your way into their house and tell them you’re their new BFF. That makes enemies.”
Instead, the stepdad and author advised, you knock and wait patiently on the doorstep.
“You may even have to talk to them through the door for a while until you find a few things you have in common. Only when they open it can you begin to connect face to face,” Deal says. “Slowly, over time, a friendship is made that stands on its own terms.”
Avoid “erase and replace” messages if you’re the new partner
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According to Deal, exaggerated gestures like Davidson’s tattoos send the wrong message to kids. The goal for new partners is to come across as additive rather than substitutive. The kids should feel like they’re potentially adding to the family, not getting a substitute dad or mum.
“Pete’s tattoo may sound romantic – that’s the kind of thing people do to win the affections of their dating partner – but to the children it declares, ‘You’re mine.’” Deal says. “Someone might say, but isn’t that great as well? Not necessarily to a child. In their world, it may seem like Pete is trying to ‘erase and replace’ their father.”
A child’s loyalty lies, understandably, with their biological parent, not the new stepparent. A message like that threatens their relationship with their father “may partially explain Kanye’s strong reaction and only escalates the battle between the parents,” Deal tells HuffPost.
“Here’s my rule of thumb: a new partner who tries to erase and replace a biological parent is, in fact, going to be erased and replaced themselves,” he says.
Most kids with newly divorced parents are dealing with abandonment issues; don’t add to them
It’s awful for a child to get attached to a new partner who then disappears from their lives. If your partner is coming on too strong with the kids, Gilbert says to acknowledge that this is a tough transition for everyone and tell them you really appreciate their efforts.
Then, shift the conversation: Try to encourage them to see things from the kids’ perspective: Among other things, your kids may be feeling extra loyal to your ex or they may be experiencing grief that their parents are no longer together. They may not want to share you with a new person and they may not want someone to have control over changes in their lives.
“Your new partner needs to understand how overwhelming your relationship might feel to the kids and that their ambivalence is not about them,” Gilbert says. “If the issue is creating conflict between you and your new partner, consider seeing a therapist who can help you both make child-centred decisions.”
The big takeaway here, though, is to take things slow: “As a general rule, it takes at least two years before a new partner can assume any sort of traditional parenting role,” Gilbert says.
I’ve always found it endearing the way men pay homage to the mothers and matriarchs in their lives. We love songs like Tupac’s Dear Mama” and Bill Withers’ “Grandma’s Hands.” We witness the robust relationship between Kanye West and his late mother, Donda, who was undoubtedly his biggest fan, in the documentary Jeen-Yuhs: A Kanye Trilogy. We heard the gut-wrenching cries of George Floyd calling out for his mother moments before his death in 2020.
Black motherhood has often been centered in the analysis of the Black family — and for Black men, the maternal connection is vital, political and liberating. These affirmations are dedicated to women whose labor and love are far-reaching and priceless. The vocal appreciation is always welcomed, especially when the work of mothers has often been overlooked.
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“My mother is a force of nature. If she wants to get something done, it’s getting done. I think that’s been pretty evident in the course of her journey,” said Sulaiman Rashid, a 20-year-old college student in Washington, DC, whose mother raised four kids. “My siblings and I have different career paths, but we are all grounded in the desire to create change, and that stems from my mom’s passion to help and to serve others and to aid in the betterment of the world.”
I wanted to explore the relationships between sons and their mothers. In this series of portraits, I photographed families and asked the sons to share some perspectives of the role their mothers had in their lives. From guidance on love, career and education to artistic inspiration and global travel, we see an expansive view of the strong bonds between Black sons and their mothers.
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Diane Redfern
Sons: Christopher and Charles Tarpley
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My mother, commonly known as Lady D, is a resilient and confident mother. She has a jazzy personality and is a strong woman of faith. She raised my brother and I to become the gentlemen we are today. – Charles
My mother’s favourite saying is “I’m gonna tell you what God loves … the truth.” This is what I admire about my mother the most, her love of God. She has such a strong will to never give up no matter how tough things may be raising twins. – Chris
Tamara Redfern
Sons: Yaseen Ellison and Mujahid Ellison
My mother has always been a source of light in my life. Across time and space – from my earliest memories in the US to years later and continents away – this has rung true. The continuum of joy and love surrounding my mother could not be summarised by a discrete moment. How would I describe my mother, who first showed me the magic and vibrancy of life? Who taught me firm confidence in my ability to grow, adapt, achieve and inspire?
I realise I don’t have to isolate any single experience to highlight who she is when everyone who encounters her is liberated by her grace and kindness, and when all spaces she walks through are automatically elevated by her presence. It is no wonder Allah says heaven lies at the feet of the mothers. I love you, Mom. – Yaseen
When I think of my mother, my thoughts often associate her with the moon. Her radiant, smiling face is akin to the light of the moon on a clear night sky. Her sound judgment and listening ear have served as a therapy to the many problems I’ve come to her with over the years. Her belief and willingness to lend a helping hand to me, unwavering, in times when I felt all was lost. Time after time, failure after failure, my mother has always been by my side. The best person to have around when sharing good news, as her pure, bona fide joy for you can be experienced by anyone who has interacted with her. The funny thing is my mother has taught me virtually everything I need to survive and thrive on my own, but hates it when I’m not around. There’s no better feeling than being capable of being alone but still having someone who never wants you to be alone. She’s my light and my guidance; my mother is my moon. I love you, Mom. – Mujahid
Aisha Hassan
Son: Bilal Hassan
Ummi is very special to me; she means the world to me. She is my friend, travel buddy and confidant. I love being around her. She raised me into the young man that I am today. She is generous, caring, loving and not afraid to speak her mind. She was literally my first teacher. I was homeschooled from kindergarten to sixth grade by her and my father, who has since passed away. Back then, we didn’t have all of the home-schooling resources that exist today. Now, homeschooling is this big thing with programmes that you can do online. She created an amazing curriculum for us. She was extremely resourceful in making sure that we had an optimal learning experience. We did so much with very little. We had so much fun on our extended learning library trips. She is a genius. I could never repay her for how much she has poured into me. – Bilal
Jamilah Rashid
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Son: Sulaiman Rashid
My mother is a force of nature. If she wants to get something done, it’s getting done. I think that’s been pretty evident in the course of her journey. My siblings and I have different career paths, but we are all grounded in the desire to create change, and that stems from my mom’s passion to help and to serve others and to aid in the betterment of the world. I love her because she gave that to me. I can’t describe all the ways and reasons why I love her. As I grow into a man, I hope that my need for her doesn’t wane or fade. When I was younger, I needed her to read me bedtime stories, and what I need from her now is guidance in selecting a companion and partner. She did a really great job, and I’d be very blessed to find someone like her. I’m grateful to her every single day for who she is as a mother, wife and a person. – Sulaiman
Adama Delphine Fawundu
Sons: Amal Buford, Kofi Buford and Che Buford (not pictured)
My mom set the standard and laid the foundation. She’s always been so driven and always accomplishes what she sets her mind to. There are so many roles that a mother can fulfil: a provider, a protector, a friend, an inspiration. She does it all. Some of my most fond memories are of us getting up really early and riding the subway to school. Even though it was the crowded subway, it felt like just us; it was so warm. We would have some of the best conversations. We would talk about anything and everything. We would read together; we would do math problems together. I love thinking about those times. It makes me nostalgic. You don’t realise how important that is, and I don’t ever want to take that for granted. It’s never been a question as to whether my brothers and I were her priority. She would drop us off and then have to go work her own job. It’s a job within a job. I’m older and I live on my own; I’m independent, but my mother is still my biggest inspiration. – Amal
My mother introduced me to so much. The knowledge and experiences that she imparted on me shattered the limitations that would otherwise be present in my life. It’s the reason why my creativity flourishes. We’ve traveled together. She took me to Sierra Leone, New Orleans, Phoenix, so many places. When we travel, we have fun, but we also learn about the land, the monuments, the historical connections. Our travels showed me the beauty of different cultures and that there are many ways of living. I love my mother. She always supported me. – Kofi
Karen D. Taylor
Sons: Chenzira Taylor Lewis and Siyaka Taylor Lewis
I have always been enamoured by my mother’s unadulterated focus and ability to create as an artist. It’s always helped me to see her not only as a mum, but also as an artist and creative in her own right. And it’s been inspiring to see her flourish throughout my life in her different creative identities. She always encouraged my autonomy and inquisitiveness and aided my creative spirit. Her determination demonstrated that my dreams and creative endeavours are attainable. ― Chenzira
I see my mother as a community pillar, a preservationist of Blackness and Black culture and Black excellence. She is a preserver of the relic, an educator, a nurturer, a policer of integrity. I love the uniqueness of who she is, her quirks, her silliness, her strength and intelligence. She is very New York to the core; she is an intellectual, a scholar with the grit of the jazz nightlife scene. Most definitely a music snob, jazz and blues head, creatively impulsive, loving, laid back and full of big laughs. At the core, she is serene. She is literally the perfect yin and yang of creativity and strong love. – Siyaka
On January 22, 1973, the US Supreme Court affirmed in a 7-2 decision the legality of women’s right to have an abortion under the 14th Amendment.
Today, about one in four pregnancy-capable people in the US have had an abortion, and the risk of complications from an in-clinic procedure is extremely low. But before it was guaranteed as a constitutional right, seeking an abortion was a harrowing, potentially life-threatening endeavour.
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While some women saved up the cash and sometimes travelled hundreds of miles to find qualified medical providers willing to risk their livelihood by operating on patients, others settled for providers lacking the qualifications and skills to perform induced abortions. And even more desperate people attempted their own abortions.
The outcome of these back-alley procedures or at-home coat-hanger abortions was often devastating, leading to maternal death or lifelong injury. (Complications from unsafe abortions include infection, incomplete abortions, haemorrhaging, uterine perforation and damage to the genital tract or internal organs, according to the World Health Organisation.)
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Because these stories were so traumatic – and because the stigma surrounding abortion was even greater in those pre-Roe v. Wade years – many women remained silent about their experiences.
Now, as the US Supreme Court seems poised to overturn the Roe v. Wade decision, it’s worth revisiting their stories to understand what abortion was like in the decades before it was legalised.
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HuffPost US recently spoke to eight people who shared experiences of relatives – great-grandmas, grandmas, mothers and aunts – who sought abortions in pre-Roe v. Wade America. Many were already mothers, struggling to conceptualise raising one more child in poverty or, in some cases, with an abusive spouse.
In one story that differs from the rest, a reader shares how her great-grandma, the wife of a well-to-do dentist, was able to obtain a safe abortion in a doctor’s office with little fuss; the story illustrates how white, middle-class and upper-class women have always had an easier time accessing safer abortion options. (As many have noted, women of colour will be disproportionately affected if Roe v. Wade is overturned.)
Below, read all eight stories, which have been edited lightly for clarity, style and length.
“My maternal grandparents married in 1934.By the time my mother was born, it was clear my grandpa was a monster. Violent and cruel, he beat my grandma with a metal lunchbox. When mom was just a few months old, he threw her against a wall. My grandmother fled.
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She discovered she was pregnant again. To induce an abortion, she drank a bottle of Lysol. You can Google ‘Lysol abortion’ and see ads from that time that suggested a woman could use Lysol to ‘correct your mistake.’ The ads are quite chilling, their meaning vague and without instructions.
Was reading the Dec 2019 edition of The Atlantic. Learned that Lysol was marketed as a “feminine hygiene” product and often used by women seeking abortions when they were illegal in the US.
It took my grandma 29 hours to die in her parent’s home; they were helpless to end the agony. Living in a logging village in winter, there was no hospital or way to travel to the city.
My mother always felt responsible for her mother’s so-called ‘suicide,’ as children do. Doing genealogy research, I uncovered the full story when my mother was in her late 60s, but her life was already written and the truth brought no comfort. I sometimes think I should never have done the research. There are four generations impacted by this one attempted abortion. We can never really know how lives would be different if she had lived. But I do know my mother’s life was forged by that event, she was an orphan, hidden from her father, never knowing why she’d been abandoned.” – Chuck M., 62, from Washington state
“My mother was a 16-year-old in 1970when she became pregnant as a result of sexual assault. She was living with my grandparents in Southern California, and abortion was not legal at that time. My grandparents were not in a position to get over the border into Mexico to have the procedure done, and they didn’t have access to a safe place to have the procedure done, either. Rather than risking my mother in a back-alley abortion, my grandmother assisted my mother in inducing a miscarriage. My grandmother had my mother sit in steaming hot baths for hours. My mother ingested medications that were considered dangerous to a fetus. They did everything short of physically harming my mother, though my mother did tell me that she was so desperate to end the pregnancy that she considered throwing herself off a high platform or down the stairs.
They managed to successfully induce a miscarriage, and my mother was taken to the local hospital to deal with the effects of the miscarriage and for a dilation and curettage. That worked, but her young body and mental health were not OK. Though my grandmother’s and mother’s intentions were to do something safer than a back-alley abortion, my mother was still at risk of potential harm from the various medications she took. And the foetus would also have been at risk for birth defects and other issues if the medications had not succeeded in a successful miscarriage. It was still dangerous.
My mother told me once that Roe was the single most important law that passed in her lifetime. That she was relieved that other women and people with a uterus would not have to suffer the same circumstances she did. If she were alive today, she would be absolutely shattered.” – Sara from New York
“My aunt Judith was just 17 in 1964 when she became pregnant after being raped on a study date at a so-called friend’s house. She was horrified to find out she was pregnant; she was on her way to college in the fall, and a baby wasn’t in her plans yet. Her doctor suggested a girls home out of town where she could stay until the baby was born and then give it up for adoption; it was her only choice since abortion was illegal.
Judith had tried all the old wives’ tales, jumping backward a dozen times at dusk and even drinking a tea that made her deathly ill just to lose the pregnancy naturally, but nothing worked. A friend of hers, Arbie, who was two years older, had been in Judith’s shoes and had taken care of her ‘dilemma’ herself.
In that summer of 1964, Judith chose to use a metal coat hanger, thinking it would be over quickly and no one would ever know. Her end result was far more than she had ever anticipated, with excessive bleeding and infection that led to a partial hysterectomy and the inability to ever carry a child. She spent nearly a month in the hospital. Her mother found out and never looked at her the same, although she did keep [Judith’s abortion attempt] from Judith’s father, knowing he would have kicked her out and pulled her college tuition. The family was hush-hush about everything, given the era everything took place.
Judith went on to graduate college top of her class to become the first female doctor of psychology in the family. From the outside looking in, her life was perfect: the house, her own office, nice car, all the material things one could ever hope to have, but she had developed a serious drinking problem and her life behind closed doors was, as she once said, ‘exactly what you’d think hell on earth would be.’
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I was born in ’72, her only niece at the time, and she doted over me constantly every chance she had. I never suspected anything was ever wrong, although I did always wonder why Auntie Judy had such sad eyes; it wasn’t until puberty hit for me that she warned me of the dangers of having ‘that time’ and told me her story. She explained there were no real options in ’64 but said that because of Roe v. Wade in ’73, I would have more options than she had ever had.
Her desire to be able to carry a child, to be the mother she had always dreamed of, haunted her every waking hour and her dreams, and she was never able to get away from it. In 1984, just a week shy of her 37th birthday, my Auntie Judy hung herself in her attic; the pain and anguish had finally won the battle. Her note was a short novel, telling her story. I was only 12 and was told I wasn’t old enough to read it or understand it, but I didn’t listen. I sneaked and read it, and now I can remember every word, and her pain, longing and anger still haunt me to this very day.” – AJ, 50, from Louisiana
“Like most kids raised by a single mother, I’ve always thought of my mom, Jan, as courageous, resilient and strong. Growing up, she commuted nearly two hours each day ― every day ― to work a low-paying job as a secretary so that my brother and I could have a better future. Despite all that she went through, my mom never gave up and ensured that my brother and I could get the best education and have more opportunities than she did.
But it wasn’t until I was in my 20s that I realised how truly incredible my mom is. One day, my mom shared that she was around my age when she had two abortions. This was 1968-69, when abortion was still illegal in the U.S. and my mom was 26 or 27 years old.
My mom told me that she had her first abortion during this time while dating a much older man. The pregnancy was very unexpected, and because my mom was struggling to make ends meet and didn’t have much support at all, she made the wrenching decision to abort the pregnancy. Because abortion was illegal in the States, the man found a doctor for her in Puerto Rico and agreed to pay for the procedure, so my mom went with my grandma to have it done. They traveled to San Juan and then traveled a bit outside of the city. My mom expected the procedure to be done with anaesthesia, but – horrifyingly – it wasn’t.
‘The abortion was done by a butcher and my mother heard me screaming,’ my mom recalled. ‘I didn’t know that they weren’t going to give me anaesthesia. It lasted for only 20 or 30 minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime. When we got back to the hotel in San Juan, I was in such pain. Then, when I was back in New York City in A&P Grocery a few days later, I noticed that I was bleeding ― haemorrhaging.’
My grandma immediately called a gynaecologist and arranged to have my mom treated in the ER at Lenox Hill Hospital, where they didn’t tell the doctors that the bleeding was caused by an abortion out of fear because the procedure was still illegal. My mom was lucky to survive.” – Jared Milrad, 38
“Today, the majority of women who seek a legal abortion are already mothers. Let me share a pre-Roe horror story about my Italian, Catholic grandmother Mary, whom I never had the blessing to know.
Apparently, on her deathbed in 1943, Mary asked her sister-in-law Florence, who was childless, to take care of her only daughter, but the shameful secret had to be kept. My mom was forbidden to ask questions about her mother or her death. She learned the truth when she was in her 50s from me after years of research.
I was in my 20s when I first began to put together the pieces of a story that just didn’t make sense: a 34-year-old mother of three young children who is hemorrhaging but refuses to go to the hospital. Even the death certificate corroborates the secret. Cause of death: carcinoma of the cervix. But cervical cancer does not generally cause women to bleed to death.
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Then, one day in the mid-’70s, we were talking about the Roe decision, and Florence, the woman I knew as my grandmother, let it slip that she had to lend $250 (an enormity in 1943) to one of her brothers because someone needed an abortion. I was stunned; I finally connected the dots. In a typically large Italian Catholic family, Florence had many sisters but only two brothers. One of them, it turns out, was my biological grandfather.
Grandma Mary already had three children she loved: two boys and the middle child, my mom Nancy. With an unemployed husband, a fourth child would plunge the family into poverty.
So the decision was not made lightly, but something went horribly wrong. Mary was just 34 years old and was more afraid of the law (and the judgment of the Catholic church) than she was of dying and leaving her children motherless.” – Lori Bores from New York
“Great-Grandma Selma Rosenthal (born 1878) was a career woman.Graduating from college in 1901, she was homely and smart, two things that did not make her particularly attractive to suitors of the era. Knowing this, she focused on having a successful career. She was by all accounts very funny, with a wonderful voice and an active circle of friends. She had no expectation that marriage or family were in the cards for her, and she had made peace with that idea.
That all changed when she met Sidney Rauh, a dentist from Cincinnati from a well-off family. It was the 1910s, and she was well into her 30s. Sidney was equally unattractive and clever, and a confirmed bachelor. He had no interest in marrying a girl for her looks but wanted to find someone he could love for her mind. When they met, it was love at first sight, and given their advanced ages, they decided to marry as soon as possible.
Selma quickly became pregnant, only to miscarry the first Christmas they spent together as a married couple. Two daughters quickly followed in 1916 and 1919, but Selma was terribly sick with her second pregnancy and she barely survived childbirth. Her doctor told her, in no uncertain terms, that if she was to get pregnant again and attempt to see it to term, she would die. She promised she would be careful.
A few years later, when she realised she was pregnant, she went to her doctor. The doctor advised her that she had to have an abortion. Sometime later, the doctor performed an abortion in his office, no fuss, no muss. But Selma was a well-off wife of a successful dentist with status in the community. It never occurred to her that what she was doing was illegal or in any way wrong. It was a decision between her, her doctor, and Sidney, and she did what was best for her family and health.
Selma died in 1948 at the age of 62 of a heart attack, having spent time not just with her daughters, but also with her granddaughters, who were five and three at the time of her death.
Great-Grandma was a suffragette and strived for women’s rights. Women’s rights and bodily autonomy were key issues in my family, but I suspect the story would not have been noteworthy had it not been for the fact that abortion became the issue it was later on. My mother and grandmother shared with me how hard things like birth control had been to get in their era, and my mother shared with me the fact that she got a (legal) abortion for family planning reasons. For us, it was just part of normal conversation.” – Kate, 50, from New York
“I was born in the 1960s and grew up in a very conservative Catholic family. Nonetheless, my traditional housewife mother was ardently pro-choice. She even took one of my friends to get an abortion in the 1980s because my friend couldn’t tell her family she was pregnant.
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Shortly after my paternal grandmother died, when I was a college freshman, my mother frankly told me during a conversation about choice, ‘Your grandmother had a back-alley abortion and almost bled to death.’
My grandmother found herself – in the early 1940s before birth control or abortion were legal – pregnant and divorced from her second husband, who turned out to be horribly abusive. She decided to leave before he began abusing her three children from her first marriage. Like most women of her day, she had no college education or career to support herself and her children. And, like most women who get abortions, she could barely support the children she had. She ended up having to go live with her parents, who were Italian immigrants.
Faced with being twice divorced and pregnant, my grandmother sought an abortion. Because they were illegal, she had to trust a back-alley ‘doctor,’ who punctured her uterus in the process. She left the procedure, collapsed in the street from the blood loss, and had to be taken to the hospital. An emergency hysterectomy saved her life.
She was an amazing mother and grandmother, and although she died almost 40 years ago, I still become emotional when I think about what a loss I would have suffered had she died from that botched abortion.
The rest of the family never knew. I am telling her story now in the same way that we disclosed our sexual trauma during the Me Too movement to educate others. Legal and safe abortion is critical to women’s reproductive rights as American citizens, and we cannot allow them to expire.” – Stephanie Voltolin
“My great-grandmother died from a botched, illegal abortion in the mid-1930s in Chicago, leaving my grandmother (2 years old) and her sister (4 years old) without a mother. When my great-grandfather remarried, his new wife already had kids of her own and didn’t want to take care of two more. My grandmother and her sister were thrown out of the house and bounced around to different aunts and uncles.
For much of my grandmother’s life, she was told that her mother died of a pregnancy complication due to an ectopic pregnancy. Later, when my grandma was a teenager, her aunt told her the truth: that her mother had died from a botched, illegal abortion.
My grandmother shared her story with me in 2012 when I was 25. We were having an early lunch. I remember she asked me if I wanted a glass of wine, which was odd for her in the middle of the day. We were talking about something else entirely and she said, ‘my mother died of a botched, illegal abortion,’ almost out of the blue, and her story just unfurled from there.
I honestly didn’t think too much about what my grandmother shared. I didn’t think her story was shocking or novel, maybe because abortion had been legal in all 50 states for my whole life. I assumed everyone else in our family knew, so I didn’t think to say anything.
A couple years later, I was catching up with my parents and one of them said, ‘Did you know Great-Grandma Sally died from a botched illegal abortion?’ That’s when I realised my grandma was nervous when she shared her mother’s cause of death with me. She was holding on to this family history and likely carrying with her the shame and stigma or the ‘don’t talk about it’ attitude of her family. It was an ‘aha’ moment for me – a real understanding that likely everyone has a family abortion story, whether they know it or not.
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Now our family has a deep understanding that when abortion is legal, abortion is safe. And we know in the decades before Roe v. Wade was decided, people like my great-grandmother were desperate to receive the care they needed.” – Amy Handler, 35, from Oregon
Women are “delaying” motherhood, or so the headlines would lead you to believe. And yet it takes two to tango if you’re hoping to conceive naturally.
When ONS data released earlier this year revealed a record number of women do not have children by the time they reach 30, the debate that ensued was a little skewed, to say the least.
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Radio hosts questioned whether it was careers, the cost of living, or a desire for post-pandemic fun that was motivating women to have children later in life. The role of men in all this barely got a look-in.
But the chat did spark an interesting conversation with a friend of mine who, despite his impending 30th birthday, revealed that nobody had ever asked him about his views on fatherhood. Ever.
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And actually, it might benefit us all if guys talked about this stuff, too.
Though there is one scientific study into male attitudes on fatherhood that’s periodically bandied around, we seldom hear men talking about this topic in the media – or even everyday life.
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So to redress the balance, I asked a bunch of guys under 30 to share their feelings about parenthood. Here’s what they had to say:
“Being a father is just very exciting. It’s not about having that title, but rather being proud to do the things involved, have that responsibility of caring and loving for a child. We knew there would never be a ‘perfect time’, and given we were settled and agreed on having them down the line, we didn’t want to put it off any longer. It’s still bloody terrifying, but good things usually are.” – Ben Rogers (a new father), 29, South London
“I’m getting married next year and I think some family will expect us to have children soon. Personally, I’d rather wait five or six years and travel/enjoy married life first.” – Miles, 29, Hertfordshire
“As a 23-year-old with a business that will soon be turning over six figures, the thought of having a child is something that I’ve mentally delayed even thinking about until my mid-thirties as my friends that have children have had their careers put on hold and are now struggling financially.” – Ted Lawlor, 23, South London
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“To be comfortable being a dad I’d need 1) to genuinely be very much in love with the woman, and expect to happily spend the rest of my life with her 2) have a house with enough room and 3) be generally financially stable enough given childcare costs. Due to my financial situation, I was living with my parents until my mid 20s, I think it is very hard to think about having children when living in your parents’ house.” – Sam, 27, Surrey
“I definitely want to be a father one day. The newly born period doesn’t appeal – sleepless nights, nappies etc – but when they can walk and talk I think it would be great fun being a dad! I would have had no issue being a young dad if it had happened.” – Jack, 29, London
“The thought of having children right now whilst I’m not settled down is a scary thought. I feel like it’s a huge responsibility that I’m not ready for yet! I want to make my stamp on the world before I bring my children into it and that’s my main focus.” – Harry Portch, 23, Reading
“Honestly? I haven’t thought about it much yet. Maybe one day, but I don’t feel the urgency yet or anything.” – Elliot, 28, Newcastle
“I’m not sure I want to be a father. But my partner is almost a decade older than me, and it means we’re grappling with a biological clock long before I expected to. We’re sensitive people who like their quiet, and worry about being consumed by childcare and regretting it. We both grew up in tense, angry households and are wary of either losing our peace or inflicting our own stress on any children. We also hate the idea of having kids out of custom or expectation when we’re unsure if it’s for us. But the prospect of missing our chance to do it biologically – especially when all her friends are having kids – is difficult, too.” – Joe, 27, London
“I’m 24 with a very stable career in the medical industry and a girlfriend that I adore, so for me, I cannot wait to have a child! My girlfriend and I have a plan to save money specifically with the child in mind so that we’re fully prepared for the magical moment.” – Jake Hanley, 24, Kent
“The earlier I have kids, the longer I’ll be around for them and my grandkids, but the cost of living and housing means this is being pushed down the road. It’s an increasingly unrealistic reality to enjoy seeing kids and grandkids grow up through life.” – Jonny Abbott, 23, Oxfordshire
“I’m equally as terrified of not having kids as I am of having kids. Knowing men who are involuntarily childless, the pain they have gone through is indescribable. Public broodiness in men is very stigmatised so I’m not surprised men aren’t willing to talk about it. I hope that changes.” – Freddie, 27, London
*Some surnames have been omitted to offer anonymity
Walking home from secondary school with my sister many years ago, I spotted a London bus plastered with a depressing advert, solemnly warning of the dangers of diabetes. “What’s the big deal?” I asked rhetorically. “Diabetes for an Asian person is a regular Tuesday.”
Though I was being facetious, I wasn’t wrong. South Asians do seem more susceptible to diabetic conditions. According to Diabetes.co.uk, the likelihood of developing type 2 diabetesis reported to be as much as six times higher in South Asians than in Europeans, with a number of factors – mostly linked to lifestyle – believed to be behind this increased risk.
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But have we also considered the role history plays here? Is colonialism another overlooked factor that contributes to South Asian bodies? It’s well understood that people can inherit psychological trauma from previous generations but, for many racialised people, there can be physical consequences, too.
Think back to GSCE history. You may have learned the Indian subcontinent was subject to many famines, with some particularly severe ones occurring under British rule. For centuries, up until India gained independence in 1947, starvation plagued the nation, in part a byproduct of colonial times.
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The East India Company’s raising of taxes, policy failures (including a “denial of rice”), resources being deployed to the military, and droughts that were met with British inaction, resulted in the deaths of millions. In 1943, West Bengal saw the worst of it all, a famine in which up to three million people died of malnutrition.
Yet, famines in the British era were not due to a lack of food, but due to the inequalities in the distribution of that food, Nobel Prize winning economist Amartya Sen argues, linking this inequality to what he describes as the fundamentally undemocratic nature of the British Empire.
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You might wonder what’s all this got to do with South Asians now? Well, not only was the “great famine” in Bengal only 79 years ago (for some, a part of living memory), but when a group of people are exposed to starvation on this scale, it can affect subsequent generations.
Dr Mubin Syed, a 56-year-old radiologist from Ohio who also works in vascular and obesity medicine, recently went viral on TikTok and Instagram for making this crucial link.
As he explains in his video, South Asians have a tendency to generate and store fat and not burn it off, amassing low lean muscle mass. This, he points out, is because South Asians are “starvation-adapted”, due to having to survive at least 31 famines, especially during the 18th and 19th century.
Surviving just one famine doubles the risk of diabetes and obesity in the next generation, even without a famine, according to a study by Brown university. The risk of cardiovascular disease increases 2.7 times for their grandchildren.
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Dr Syed, whose research in this area for the past five years led him to these conclusions, tells HuffPost UK: “Exposure to even one famine has a multi-generational effect of causing metabolic disorders including diabetes, hyperglycemia and cardiovascular diseases. Imagine having an exposure to at least 24 major famines in a 50-year period.”
And the problem carries through to the present.
“In the modern era of abundance, it becomes an evolutionary mismatch. Our adaptation to scarce food availability is no longer suitable for our environment of food abundance,” he says.
So, storing nutrients was an evolutionary response to famine, but now, where scarcity is no longer a problem for much of the modern, western world, it creates a conflict, heightening our risk of certain health conditions.
“South Asians have a unique physiology,” Dr Syed explains. “For instance, we have higher body fat percentage and lower lean muscle mass. We have a six times greater risk of developing diabetes, one of the highest rates of diabetes and pre-diabetes in the world, and a four times greater risk to have a heart attack before the age 50. Furthermore, one in three South Asians will die of heart disease before 65.”
While our genes, inherited from our ancestors, can explain some of these predispositions, diet is another contributor – though not in a straightforward way. “It’s a multifactorial perfect storm,” says Dr Syed. :Genetics is one issue, but of course, lifestyle is always important. But, South Asians have to exercise twice as much as Caucasians to get the same health benefits.”
It certainly feels like Indians, Bangladeshis, and Pakistanis, who once made up India, are still reeling from the effects of colonialism, mentally and physically.
My family are certainly still feeling its effects. Though my parents weren’t around when the Bengal famine took place, their generation is impacted; my dad is diabetic while my mum is prediabetic, and this leaves me in a precarious position, too.
Another concern for the community is a lack of awareness about how our past informs our future. This is why filmmaker Phelan Chatterjee, 26, set out to create a short documentary, Straining The Rice that captures the trauma endured by Bengali people, told through the lens of a grandmother, Nana (not his own).
The London-based producer laments how little people know of the famine and how it affects us today.
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He tells HuffPost UK: “I had a lot of conversations with Asian friends and family in the UK. I found very little mention or memorialisation of the catastrophe, despite the enormous number of people who died, and its effects today.
“The sheer number of lives lost, the brutal way in which they perished and the helplessness of those demanding change at the time. It’s difficult to come to terms with the fact that it’s not a part of our national conversation in any meaningful way.”
Chatterjee questions those who say the famine was simply an environmental consequence, and asks why there’s no accountability for why such conditions were created.
“The protagonist of the film, an elderly Bengali woman says the famine sparked a great deal of protest against the colonial government of the day,” he says.
“This suggests there had always been a keen awareness of the links between policy choices and the famine. But frequently, I’ve experienced famines and similar events to be thought of as beyond human control.
“I wonder what a reappraisal of those policies might bring, and how that could inform the way we understand contemporary famines, global inequality – including health inequality – and climate change.”
If schools, for instance, taught students about these historical atrocities and their contemporary implications on us mentally and physically, we might have a better understanding of how to navigate our lives now. Healthcare research and responses might even cater better to our bodies, as a result.
But, despite the risks and impact of inequalities on South Asians today, Dr Syed says it doesn’t mean ill health is inevitable for us.
“It’s not a doom and gloom scenario,” he says. “The risks are avoidable, we just have to pay closer attention to diet, exercise/fitness, sleep, stress and other substances.” This means how much alcohol and tobacco we consume, says Dr Syed, and for South Asians who enjoy it, consumption of betel nut or supari.
“Even our dental health,” he adds. “The key thing is awareness, getting regular check-ups, including lipid profiles, is critical. Do not assume you are healthy, as normal height/weight BMIs are misleading for South Asians.”
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Many South Asians in the West who are told “colonialism was a long time ago” and not to “dwell on the past” will struggle with all these conflicting messages. We certainly can’t nor should forget a history that still continues to impact us. And there are many who still remember the harshness of colonial times.
For those who came before us, as well as ourselves, it’s imperative we keep educated and informed of our past and how plays a crucial role in our future.
Last year, when my roommates and I were stuck with each other for the festive period, one of them made a startling accusation over dinner: According to her, I hold my fork wrong.
Like most of us, I think, I learned my table manners from my family rather than through any kind of formalised etiquette classes. So while I’m sure there are little customs and mannerisms of high society to which I’m not privy, it never occurred to me that I could be doing something as basic as holding my fork wrong. I wondered with horror – did work connections, friends, partners’ families, basically everyone I’d ever eaten in front of, think I was a rude slob?
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Fortunately, Lizzie Post of the Emily Post Institute, a century-old authority on etiquette who is based in Vermont, assured me that I’m “probably not doing anything rude.” She did talk about the best way to hold cutlery, which we’ll get into, but it has more to do with keeping your food from slipping off your plate than appearing classy or not.
Table manners, to some, can be a class signifier, but most of the little rules and customs we’re taught to follow have some practical reasoning behind them. They’re not often just frivolous or aesthetic in nature. At least the ones worth following. I spoke to some etiquette experts to find out what the most common faux pas are when it comes to etiquette on eating and drinking – and why those customs are worth paying attention to in this modern age.
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Don’t gross out everyone at the table.
The most important purpose of etiquette, Post emphasised, is really to make the people you’re with feel comfortable and at ease. And a great way to make a dinner uncomfortable is to gross out your fellow diners. For her, the most important “rule” to follow is an obvious one: Chew with your mouth closed, and be mindful of the sounds you’re making while eating and drinking.
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“We want them to enjoy our company and our conversation, and when we’re seeing masticated food, that’s not going to happen,” Post said.
She did make one important caveat. Some people have medical conditions that make it difficult for them to breathe through their noses while eating. If you’re one of those people, she advises you to just do your best. Chances are you already have your own methods for chewing discreetly. In any case, don’t be a jerk if someone chews loudly or with their mouth open. Making someone else feel ashamed of the way they eat, especially when it’s out of their control, is a much bigger social misstep.
General messiness while eating is another way to gross out your company, so just be sure you’re not eating in a way that results in, say, literal egg on your face. If you’re unsure of the way you look while eating, Post says that eating in front of a mirror or filming yourself can be very revealing. You might notice little idiosyncrasies that you otherwise wouldn’t, and if you don’t like how you come across, you can adjust accordingly.
Don’t salt your food before you taste it
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Etiquette consultant Monika Walczak raised a point that’s as practical as it is polite. Don’t season your food before you taste it.
“By seasoning food before trying, we send the message to the host, or the person that has cooked the meal, that we don’t really trust their cooking skills and we need to season this food, even before trying,” she said.
It’s fine to top off your food with a bit of salt and pepper, but try it first to make sure the food actually needs it. Besides, you can always add more salt, but you can’t take it away. If you accidentally make your meal taste like the ocean, you’ll be guzzling water all night. Yuck.
And if someone asks you to pass the salt or pepper, send both. Walczak says keeping the shakers together is just a good way to keep them from getting lost at a big table.
The way you hold your utensils can matter, but mostly for practicality
Ever sat down at a table to find way more forks than you know what to do with? Honestly, this is the kind of etiquette that you really don’t have to worry too much about. Do some research if you’d like, but don’t stress over which is the salad fork and which is the dinner fork.
“Emily Post was always the first to say it doesn’t matter which fork you use,” Lizzie Post told me. “It [only] matters that you’re using a fork.”
That said, there are a few cutlery customs that are just practical. Case in point, the weird way I grip my fork. No matter which cutlery style you use, American or Continental (look it up if you’re curious, but that’s another detail not to sweat), you want to hold your fork and knife similarly to how you’d hold a pencil as opposed to, for instance, gripping it with your whole fist. (For the record, I swear my fork-holding style isn’t that exaggerated. It’s more of a half-fist grip.)
Post said it’s most common to see people doing this when they’re stabbing something, like a piece of meat, and cutting it with their other hand. The “correct” way is actually just the more effective way. When you hold your fork at an angle, with your thumb and index finger, you actually have greater precision and control, which means you’re less likely to accidentally send your food flying off your plate. Saucy or buttery food can be especially prone to slippage.
Sometimes the placement of your utensils really does send a message.
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There are proper ways to rest your cutlery on your plate when you’re not using it, chiefly for the sake of communicating with your host or waitstaff. Post says to envision your plate as a clock face and set your fork and knife at the 8 and 4 o’clock positions when you’re taking a break from eating or stepping away from the table for a moment. At a restaurant or catered event, servers recognise that position to mean, “I’m not done; don’t take my plate away yet.” When you are done, rest both at 4 o’clock.
Traditionally, servers are trained to serve you your plates from your left side and clear your plates from the right, particularly in fine dining settings. When your utensils are oriented toward the right, a server can easily pick them up with one hand without risking a knife sliding off.
What about drinking glasses and toasting etiquette?
First and foremost: glasses are set to the right of plates, Walczak reminds us. So if you’re overwhelmed by a densely set table, just keep that in mind. The glasses on the right side of the plate are yours.
No matter what’s in your glass, the general rule is to take sips, not gulps, and do it quietly, without slurping. Also, don’t do that thing where you turn the glass upside down to get the last drops, Post advises.
Like most of these etiquette guidelines, the reasoning is simply to avoid making a spectacle of your basic human functions. You probably don’t want people to miss what you have to say because they’re too distracted by your drinking mannerisms – or, like a girl on the subway once did to me, knock skulls with someone when you throw your head back to take a swig.
When it comes to wine and wine glasses, there are a couple of particulars worth knowing. Wine educator Ami Gangemella says that when people toast, she often sees them clinking glasses at the delicate rim. Clinking at the bowl, instead, reduces the risk of accidentally smashing and breaking the glasses. No one wants to deal with stains and shards mid-party.
Being the recipient of a toast can be an awkward moment of spotlight, especially if you don’t know what to do. Walczak says that in formal settings, the most gracious thing to do is basically nothing, Don’t raise your glass, don’t take a sip.
“The person being toasted should just sit quietly, smile and appreciate the toast that has been given in their honour,” she said. “Let others raise their glasses and drink.”
The other wine-drinking custom to know is that, although it’s common for people to hold their glasses by the bowl, the better way is to hold them by the stem with your thumb and forefingers, Gangemella says. (You can support the bottom with your pinkie if you want.) This keeps your body heat from warming up the wine ― room-temperature Champagne just doesn’t taste as good.
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Don’t be a snob.
Again, the purpose of all of these guidelines is to make the people around you feel comfortable and to allow the focus to be on what you all have to say and how delicious the food is rather than on the way you eat it.
For that reason, try not to sweat it too much if there’s something you didn’t know or did differently than your company. If anyone gives you judgmental looks about something as minute as forks or glasses, ultimately they’re the one being rude.
As Lizzie Post put it, “Anyone who’s completely offended to dine with you because of how you’re holding your cutlery doesn’t deserve your company.”