TV Tyranny
On daytime T.V.
(Cracked mirror of society),
Each programme features
Items designed for other creatures,
For sisters, not brothers,
And only those who would be mothers,
On the programme list
It seems the child-free don’t exist.
The daily slot,
Filled with teenager, babe or tot,
Says I’m without
what womanhood is all about.
I’m obviously
a model of deficiency,
And less than thrilled
at being labelled ‘unfulfilled.’
I don’t have babies
So might as well have AIDS or Rabies.
I don’t conform
And so I’m set outside the norm,
Marginalised,
Ignored or even ostracised,
By the tyranny
Of the parenting majority.
They think I ought
To rock the cradle, not the boat.
Should not be free
To challenge domesticity.
When I protest,
My challenges are not addressed,
If I acquiesce,
Child-free by choice becomes child-less.
So I’m forced to try
To rationalise and justify
My child-free state,
To remonstrate and demonstrate
Another way
That women have a part to play
In daily life
Other than mother, daughter, wife.
This stereotype
Is patriarchal super-hype,
Pushed on TV
As absolute normality,
By stick thin chicks
With blown-up boobs and pumped-up lips,
Employed to be
A model I will never be.
So I remain
Outside normality’s domain,
Social pariah,
Whose aspirations reach up higher
Than maternity
And being one man’s property
His only means
Of passing on his worn-out genes.
Childless by choice,
I raise my non-maternal voice
Louder and louder,
Fiestier, more robust and prouder,
And joined by more,
We chorus a triumphant roar,
“We will be
Whatever we decide to be!”
© Lynne Joyce, 1991, revised 2003.