I've spent the last few weeks reading Amy Tan's The Joy Luck Club with my juniors and seniors in my "Women and Literature" seminar, and though I've read the book multiple times before, I've never read it right around this time of year. It makes Mother's Day all the more significant:
"All of us are like stairs, one step after another, going up and down, but all going the same way."Some of my students still haven't realized this, but I know that even if the book isn't clicking for them now, someday it will. It is only as I get older that my mouth begins to form words that my mother put there. I recognize her features in my own when I look in the mirror. I find myself giving advice that she once gave me. I understand the logic in the requests and commands and complaints that I regarded as irrational when I was younger. As a teenager, I never thought I'd become my mother. Now, I think I would be so lucky if I could be half the kind and giving person that she is.