[post co-written by Colleen Shaddox]
At every book talk we give someone will ask, “And how did you two start working together?”
People are curious because we have an obvious rapport but are not the likeliest of pairs. Joanne’s father was lawyer, who volunteered with the ACLU. Colleen’s was a sporadically employed fellow, who actually wept when Nixon resigned. Joanne is Jewish and not religiously observant. Colleen’s only retirement dream is attending daily Mass. Joanne is a baker of elegant patisserie. Colleen cooks chili that has literally made Texans cry with joy. Joanne is best known for materially improving the lives of very young children in poverty; Colleen, for trying to get impoverished kids, often with inadequate legal defense, out of juvenile and sometimes adult prison.
Yet we managed to write 300 pages of deep policy analysis on poverty, often a culturally and politically divisive issue, in complete agreement with each other. That’s because we’re both mothers.
What unites us is that we have the same litmus test: Would I want this for my child? If the answer is “yes,” the policy is sound. If it is “no,” then we will fight it tooth and nail. It’s so simple. If we started a political party, we could write 90% of the platform over a long lunch. In a time when political divisions are dangerously deep and acrimonious, we commend our nonpartisan, public-policy strategy to others.
As a social worker supporting families in deep poverty, Joanne quickly realized that every parent wants the best for their child, regardless of whether they have the resources to provide it. Colleen, trying to avoid arguments with her staunchly conservative family, makes it a point to inquire about people’s kids. It turns out that everyone wants their children in situations where they are safe, learning, and loved. People who can agree on little else find much to agree upon as parents (or aunts and uncles). Why not take these truths to the public sphere?
Organizing around the well-being of children could bring people together regardless of race, income levels, and ideological division. The tricky part is getting people to care about someone else’s kids. We know how much children’s zip codes affect their future—from whether they will even survive their first year of life to whether they will go to college or thrive economically. Most people will sadly shake their head at the injustice of it all, yet turn away feeling helpless to advocate for change.
But parents actually living in low opportunity communities do more: they work two or three jobs to keep the wolf from the door, they organize to demand equity and fair opportunities, but monied interests too often obstruct systemic change. This country will advance toward widespread prosperity once more privileged people are no longer willing to accept these disparities, because if it’s not good enough for their own kids, then it’s simply not good enough for any of/all of our kids.
COVID-19 and natural disasters have driven it home, as if it were not obvious already, that we are in this together. The public health systems and environmental action that will make the world safe and sustainable for our children will make it safe for yours as well, no matter what where we live.
We must act on this knowledge long before we achieve perfect empathy as a species. It starts with process. At the beginning of any public policy discussion or decision, we need to ask, “Is it good enough for my kid?” Whether we are taking about building highways, submarines, or hospitals, it is a question that should frame every debate. Asking the question—out loud—will force us to examine policies for fairness, for justice, for sustainability. Doing so will also make us think longer term, because everybody wants their kids to outlive them.
So how did we meet?
“I met Joanne the way that everyone does,” Colleen always replies. “She got me to do something for a diaper bank.” Joanne started getting free diapers to families who could not afford them 16 years ago in New Haven, Connecticut, and now is CEO of the National Diaper Bank Network, comprised of more than 225 diaper banks around the country determined to serve the one in three children experiencing diaper need. Joanne talks a lot about diapers and the myriad ways basic necessities affect family well-being. It always circles back to her experience as a mother of three, who was absolutely determined that her kids would have the things that they needed to thrive.
Colleen was immediately sympathetic to Joanne’s work, but the bulk of her time was spent in advocating for changes in the way that the legal system treats children. Principally, she wanted to end the practice of sending children to adult prisons, which despite years of reform is still a shockingly common practice in this country, particularly where youth of color or in poverty are concerned. She designed a national campaign to end shackling in juvenile courtrooms, another shockingly common practice. Like her friend, Joanne, she worked all hours with passion to spare. Why? Because when she thought of a 13-year-old in leg irons, she imagined her own teenage son being treated as less than human.
We don’t claim to be particularly virtuous. We have abundant character flaws between us, especially according to some of the very children we’ve raised. But we are at our best when we think like mothers. So we aspire to think like mothers as much of the time as possible. We want more people to do the same—whether they are, want to be, or can be mothers themselves, or fathers or trusted caregivers.
We believe that most people want what’s best for themselves and for the larger world. But in this anxious place and time it is hard to hold focus. We believe the “is it good for my kid” question could be an effective tool to do that, even if the “my kid” is hypothetical.
Start asking it, publicly, loudly. First it will be a joke. Then it will be an annoyance. But eventually, it just might be the answer.
Joanne Samuel Goldblum and Colleen Shaddox are the authors of Broke in America: Seeing, Understanding, and Ending U.S. Poverty.