I have a real—maybe totally irrational—fear about being dulled and tamed by love for my children.I think that there is a deep harboring of the notion that this level of disability in a child happens to people who have somehow not been taking the proper amount of care. It reached so deeply into me.Meghan, when you asked, “Does motherhood radicalize you?” I’d like to think so, but I often feel incapacitated by worry and love.
You’re gonna want some more coverage. I thought, “This must happen all the time!” But they must have to be so defensive.
It was right to change it a little.Right now I can feel it pulling in the back of my head right here. They must have to think, “This is a good environment to come to work every day. Like, “You’re such an idiot. And then I went home, which was suddenly a new kind of hell. And around 145th Street, I unconsciously reached into my bag, pulled out my ID tag and put it on while I waited for the last couple stops. Amy Herzog is an American playwright whose play 4000 Miles was a finalist for the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. Warning: this could happen again! I felt like I had written it. I thought the production, which was directed by Anne Kauffman, was successful in doing this other thing, which was telling this story of a mother caring for her sick child in a granular way that’s weird and pedestrian and often maddening and sometimes a lot of fun. And she regularly called me stupid. Amy Herzog Assistant Professor of Film Studies Amy Herzog Assistant Professor of Film Studies Amy Herzog; Karen Pearson Drama. She has also taught as Visiting Associate Professor at the Lewis Center for the Arts at Princeton University. I intended the experience to be more contemplative than cathartically emotional.But…I haven’t talked about this that much in print, but I think I’m prepared to now. I went to hell. She called me Planet. I have a sick child, and my motherhood has been really different from most women’s motherhood.
She was gray and completely unconscious.It felt like I’d been spied on. Product Image. I’ll do anything to avoid having to deal with it—I really will do almost anything; I’ll even go to Whole Foods—but eventually I have to write about it.But I knew it would be an uphill battle getting an audience to experience the play the way I intended it, rather than as weepy because of the subject. I resent when I have to write anguish and fear. I can’t get past it. Because I now know that I have to write something about it—probably only for myself, in a journal, because it’s horrible; I can’t write this.