Facts and Fictions of Life

by Helen H. Gardener

THE MORAL RESPONSIBILITY OF WOMAN IN HEREDITY

Read before the World's Congress of Representative Women, Chicago, 1893

Ladies and Gentlemen:—Poets, statesmen, novelists, and artists have for ages untold striven to eclipse each other in the eulogies of motherhood. On the stage nothing is so sure of rapturous applause as is some touching bit of sacrifice which has reached its climax in a mother's love wherein she has yielded all to shield, to protect, or to better the condition of husband or child. From the crude topical songs which advise the son to "Stick to your mother when her hair turns gray," through the various phases of maternal love and devotion or sacrifice in the "Camille" type of thought, on up to the loftiest touches in art and literature, there is alike the effort to celebrate the power, the potentiality and the beauty of motherhood and to stimulate the sentiments of gratitude and love and of admiration for and emulation of the ideal depicted. But through it all, in the building and nurturing of the ideal, there runs—ever and always—the thread of thought that self-sacrifice, self-abnegation, self-effacement, are the grandest attributes of maternity. That in order to be a perfect, an ideal wife and mother, the woman must be sunk, the individual immolated, the ego subjugated. To a degree and in a sense, that is, of course, true. For the willingness to go down to the gates of death; to face its possibility for long, weary months; to know that suffering, and to fear that death, stands as a sure and inevitable host at the end of a long journey—to know this and to be willing to face it for the sake of others is a heroism, a bravery, a self-abnegation so infinitely above and beyond the small heroism of camp or battlefield that comparison is almost sacrilege.

The condemned man, upon whom the death watch has been set, who cannot hope for executive clemency, who is helpless in the hands of absolute power, still knows that, although death may be sure, physical suffering is unlikely or at the worst will be but brief; but he alone stands in the position to know—even to a degree—the nervous strain, the mental anguish, the unthinking but uncontrollable panics of flesh and blood and nerve which woman faces at the behests of love and maternity and, alas, that it can be true, at the behests of sex power and financial dependence!

But when we study anthropology and heredity we come to realize the indisputable facts that her love, her physical heroism and her bravery, linked with her political and financial subject status, has cast a physical blight, a moral shadow and a mental threat upon the world, we cease to clap quite so vigorously at the theater and our tears or smiles are mingled with mental reservations and a sigh for a loftier ideal of the meaning and purpose of maternity than the merely physical one that man has depicted as material sacrifice to the child and self-abnegation and subjection to him. We begin to wonder if much of the vice, the crime, the wrong, the insanity, the disease, the incompetence and the woe of the world is not the direct lineal descendant of this very self-debasement of the individual character of woman in maternity!

We wonder if an unwilling, a forced or supinely yielding (and not self-controlled), a subject motherhood, in short, is not responsible to the race for the weak, the deformed, the depraved, the double dealing, pretense-soaked natures which curse the world with failure, with disease, with war, with insanity and with crime. We wonder if the awful power with which nature clothes maternity in heredity does not strike blindly back at the race for man's artificial and cruel requirements at the hands of the producer of the race. We wonder if mothers do not owe a higher duty to their offspring than that of mere nurse. We wonder if she has the moral right to give her children the inheritance that accident and subserviency stamps upon body and mind. We wonder how she dares face her child and know that she did not fit herself by self-development and by direct, sincere, firm and thorough qualifications for maternity before she dared to assume its responsibilities. We wonder that man has been so slow in learning to read the message that nature has telegraphed to him in letters of fire and photographed with a terrible persistency upon the distorted, diseased bodies and minds of his children and upon the moral imbeciles she has set before him as an answer to his message of sex domination.*

* "Alienists bold, in general, that a large proportion of
mental diseases is the result of degeneracy; that is, they
are the offspring of drunken, insane, syphilitic and
consumptive parents, and suffer from the action of
heredity."—Dr. MacDonald; author of Criminology.
"Who has sinned, this man or his parents that he was blind?"
Bible.

Self-abnegation, subserviency to man—whether he be father, lover, or husband—is the most dangerous that can be taught to, or forced upon her, whose character shall mould the next generation! She has no right to transmit a nature and a character that is subservient, subject, inefficient, undeveloped—in short, a slavish character, which is either blindly obedient or blindly rebellious and is therefore set, as is a time-lock, to prey or to be preyed upon by society in the future!

If woman is not brave enough personally to demand, and to obtain, absolute personal liberty of action, equality of status and entire control of her great and race-endowing function of maternity, she has no right to dare to stamp upon a child, and to curse a race with the descendants of a servile, a dwarfed, a time-and-master-serving character.

We have been taught that it is an awful thing to commit murder—to take a human life. There are students of anthropology and heredity who think that it is a far more awful thing to thrust, unasked, upon a human being a life that is handicapped before he gets it. It is a far more solemn responsibility to give than to take a human life! In the one case you invade personal liberty and put a stop to an existence more or less valuable and happy, but at least all pain is over for that invaded individuality. In the other case—in giving life—you invade the liberty of infinite oblivion and thrust into an inhospitable world another human entity to struggle, to sink, to swim, to suffer or to enjoy. Whether the one or the other no mortal knows, but surely knows it must contend not only with its environment but with its heredity—with itself.