#NoTeenShame

“Mom.” “Yeah?” “I’m pregnant.”

Many of us remember that moment in our own lives. And I’m sure some of us wished we could also just fade to black the minute the pregnancy test read “positive” and fast forward to the part where everything is figured out. But this was not a teenager notifying her mom about her pregnancy. This was 32-year-old Rory Gilmore telling her mother, Lorelei, that she was pregnant.

On November 25, 2016 Netflix released a Gilmore Girls revival called A Year in The Life. The revival consisted of four 90-minute episodes, each focusing on a specific season: Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. Dedicated Gilmore Girls fans will recall how the show’s creator, Amy Sherman-Palladino left the show prior to it’s last season in 2007, and as a result, she took her original ending for the show with her. So when Netflix announced it was revisiting the Gilmore Girls, via the revival, fans were excited to see the ending Sherman-Pallandino had originally envisioned.

And when the final words were uttered, the reaction was mixed, to say the least. True, when the show’s creator Amy Sherman-Palladino first envisioned this ending, she had intended those last four words to be for 23-year-old Rory Gilmore but production and contract negotiation issues made it so that Sherman-Palladino was not able to revisit Rory’s story until much later than originally expected, leaving the viewers to grapple with 32-year-old Rory announcing an unplanned pregnancy at the end of the show’s finale.   When we last saw Rory in 2007, she was a budding journalist, full of potential and promise.

Over the course of Gilmore Girl’s Revival, we saw 32-year-old Rory trekking through life once again, this time on not so steady ground. Rory goes through each season flailing through unsuccessful writing gigs, as her mother, Lorelei deals with the death of her father, Richard (played by the late Edward Herrmann) and her strained relationship with her mother, Emily. Many loose ends were tied up as the series neared it’s end, but the ending took me by surprise, to say the least.

“Holy Shit!” That was the first thing to pop into my mind when Rory uttered her final four words and the screen faded to black. I could not believe it. The overarching theme of Lorelai’s early pregnancy coming full circle was not exactly discreet. As young moms, we are constantly warned about how our early parenthood may potentially affect our children’s chances of becoming young parents, particularly where daughters are involved.

Not that Rory is young. But the fact that she is now faced with an unplanned pregnancy and the potential of raising that child alone was enough to leave viewers shaking their heads. Considering the precarious situation Rory was in throughout the series, many of us were left wondering, “now what?” Leading up to the revival, Amy Sherman-Palladino had stated in numerous interviews that she had fully intended for the series to be a cliffhanger.

Granted, there were some hints of the future. Jess staring longingly at Rory in the window as she tended to Kirk, implying that the two could potentially reunite. Luke and Lorelai, newly married, are now in a good position to help Rory financially and otherwise should she choose to keep her baby. Employment prospects look decent, as she is now editor of the Stars Hollow Gazette, and Headmaster Charleston’s offer of a teaching position at Chilton is still on the table.

Yet, her future is hazy. With nothing set in stone for Rory, things are very much in limbo. And now she is pregnant. As a young mom myself, with a desire to challenge social norms and stigma, this was my “AHA!” moment.  

Because here was Rory Gilmore. Bonafide brainiac, amazingly beautiful, graduated from Chilton as valedictorian, gone to Yale, campaigned with Obama during his race to the presidency in 2007 and had written for publications such as The New Yorker and Slate. But, she was human, after all.

The original series had shown that. She had raised eyebrows when she’d fallen asleep with Dean at Miss Patty’s studio in Season 1. Season 2 had her questioning her “perfect” relationship with Dean when “bad boy” Jess came along. The rest of the series showed similar sporadic- albeit human- tendencies from Rory. She landed herself in jail after an impulsive decision to steal a boat, quit Yale and joined the Daughters of the American Revolution. She stumbled quite a bit, but always seemed to pick herself back up and continue with life without much of a hitch.

So when Rory Gilmore announces she is pregnant (most likely from her affair with Logan), my initial response was: anyone can find themselves dealing with an unintended pregnancy. And also: is anyone ever ready?

There has been a lot of backlash from viewers who loved the original series. Many have made the assumption that the series’s ending indicates that Rory’s life has taken a turn for the worse, and that her future looks bleak.

For my response, I take you back to Season 3 episode 4: “One’s Got Class and the Other Dyes” where Lorelai and Luke are asked to speak about their success at Stars Hollow High for Career Day. What is supposed to be a day for Lorelei to highlight her experience as an Innkeeper ends up being a Q&A session about teen motherhood. One student even asks, “Do you regret being pregnant?” to which Lorelei responds: “No, of course not. It gave me Rory.”

The moms of the students present confront Lorelei afterwards, upset that she would “encourage promiscuous behavior to a group of young teenagers.” Lorelei then states she will not apologize for having a positive life in spite of her early pregnancy.

Perhaps, by presenting us with Rory’s pregnancy, Sherman-Palladino is asking viewers an  open-ended question. When is anyone ever prepared to get pregnant?

Those who automatically assume that Rory’s potential for a successful life has been interrupted should pay closer attention to Lorelei’s story.   Lorelei did not regret having Rory. As a teenage mom, she turned out fine by most standards. She went from living in a shed outside the Independence Inn to running the establishment, owning a house, starting her own business and successfully managing it for over ten years.

Unexpected pregnancies are a recurring theme in this show, and the consequences of each pregnancy vary from character to character. Lane’s hopes of becoming a recognizable rock star were indefinitely put on hold when she became pregnant with twins. Though the revival shows a seemingly content Lane living a very routine life, viewers are sure to recall the original controversy surrounding the plot line of Lane’s pregnancy.  Sherry’s story certainly raised eyebrows when she chose to leave Rory’s dad, Christopher, with their daughter because, in her opinion, she had sacrificed enough of her life raising her child and now needed to do something for herself.

If we even want to go deeper into the series, let’s focus on Emily and Lorelai. Emily went to college, married well, got pregnant at the appropriate time and provided her daughter with everything and yet the series AND the revival focus on the very hard time both mother and daughter have in understanding each other.

So, who really knows when someone is ready to be pregnant? Do the circumstances of Rory’s pregnancy suck? Yes, they do.

But this is a show that successfully ran for seven years and had overwhelming positive reactions over its revival ten years later despite the fact that the main character was a teenage mother.  In a society where we constantly attempt to dictate a young woman’s choices regarding motherhood, this show provided a glimpse into what it takes to raise a child, and highlights the fact that young parents do not always lose sight of their goals. A lot of teenage moms are like Lorelai--not quite ready for motherhood, but tackle it on and kick ass in their role as parents regardless. And lots of “age-appropriate moms” are Rory: caught off guard in a whirlwind of “Holy Shit!”

Like it or not, the ending of Gilmore Girls revival prompts viewers to consider a question that may not be as easy to answer as we want it to be: Are we ever truly ready for parenthood?

The Backlash

By Amy Lopez

For those of you who are not familiar with Chrissy Teigen, here are the basic points you need to know:

1) She is a beautiful model 2) She co-hosts “Lip Sync Battle” on SpikeTV with LL Cool J 3) She is married to John Legend 4) She is very vocal and hilarious on social media

Oh, and

5) She JUST had a baby

Chrissy Teigen gave birth to beautiful baby girl named Luna Simone Stephens on April 17, 2016. Prior to her daughter’s birth, Chrissy Teigen has always been transparent on social media. Not only does she spill her thoughts on any given subject, she also defends herself against the keyboard warriors trolling on the web.

So, it was no surprise that she would do the same (and in her tell-tale comedic fashion) after a magazine’s Instagram page released a picture of her out and about with husband John Legend roughly about one week after giving birth.

The critique ranged from people saying she was not even physically ready to be outside (I’ve cleaned up the language but for all you moms out there, it has to do with Chrissy’s previous tweets about going home with a diaper), to her desire to be back in the spotlight so soon after giving birth. She was even accused of neglecting to her child who “should not [be left] to have a nanny or babysitter raise them.”

As I read these comments, I started getting angry. My frustration stemmed from the fact that people were shaming a woman who, by all means, has the resources needed to provide for her child.

And if reading what people wrote on Chrissy Teigen’s wall angers you, be aware that young mothers receive these exact same comments and worse.

Way worse.

And they aren’t written behind the safety of screens. They are said right to our faces.

Constantly.

Chrissy Teigen was scolded for going out on a date with her husband a week after giving birth. Imagine being 17 years old going back to work a week after giving birth because you have no maternity leave and rely on that 8-hour shift to provide for your child.

The physical limitations many people are assuming Chrissy has are the same (if not worse) for a young girl that was not able to work out every day alongside a celebrity trainer or lacks the support that an A-list celebrity has prior to,  during and after pregnancy.

I may not have gone back to school a week after giving birth (I was able to enjoy exactly one month with my first-born before going back to USC my junior year), but it still hurts to see other mother’s faces when they hear me talk about the limited time I had with him.

Chrissy Teigen went to dinner one week after her child one born. For young mothers, there is no such thing as date night. There are many memes and forms of media that show mothers not attending to their child nor making their child their number one priority amongst other things (thanks, Teen Mom).

We have seen images of  the stereotypical moms (usually depicted as minorities) that leave their child with a babysitter while they go out partying or mothers who just leave their child to be raised by their grandparents. While this may be the case with some young mothers, the majority of the time young mothers just needs a break.

The media and society fail to see young mothers for the strong women that they are. Mothers need time for themselves. Young mothers may not have the liberty that other young people have, but they still should be allowed to enjoy themselves according to their age, without being shamed for it.  

Which brings me back to my original point.

Chrissy Teigen is a gorgeous super model. She has millions of dollars. She has a very loyal husband and a comfortable lifestyle.

And yet, she still gets backlashed.

People still want to find something to complain about when it comes to her. She is still a target of public criticism.

This is not in any way diminishing or taking away from the backlash that Chrissy Teigen is facing. Or what any other celebrity faces. We live in a society that wrongfully picks on anything and everything mothers do.

It is bad enough already for mothers out there. All mothers.

Now imagine a young mother. Who—according to society—needs to be given less respect than Chrissy Teigen is given because of the course of life she has chosen to have.  A mother who is deemed too young to be a parent but is also judged as irresponsible should she rely on government assistance to help supplement her expenses.

Or, a mother who is selfish for leaving her baby after just giving birth, so that she can go back to work and provide for her household.  A mother who has made a decision to no longer have an “independent life” so therefore, should never go out ever again if it means she has to be away from her child.

May is Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month and while it is important to advocate for  effective ways to prevent pregnancies, there is an undeniable stigma that often highlights negative effects to help illustrate a specific agenda.

And it needs to end.

But more importantly, it needs to end first with criticizing mothers for doing what they need to do to care for themselves following the birth of their children.

Written by Amy Lopez

There is an unspoken rule in Hispanic households: if you’re feeling something, hold it in. Don’t let yourself be seen as weak. It is not going to make anything better if all you are doing is pouting. 

That’s how I used to feel. How I still feel sometimes. I was valedictorian of my high school in Southern California. I also won the Gates Millennium Scholarship my senior year—the only person in my class to receive it. I was entering my freshmen year at University of Southern California with an academic scholarship that would leave me debt-free by the time I graduated. I had everything figured out. 

Or so I thought. 

The second semester of my sophomore year at USC, I found out I was pregnant.  I was 19 years old. It was not the great shock for me that society and media make it out to be. I had missed my period for about two months, something that was out of the norm for me.  There was no, “How could this have happened?” moment for me. Sure, there was a chance that when I went to the clinic, the test would come out negative, but when it read positive, there was not much surprise. 

Nor was I shocked by the reactions I got from people. I was not a stranger to teenage or unplanned pregnancies. Coming from a low-income community, unplanned pregnancies were talked about at my high school and occurred occasionally. Plus, being the daughter of one who gave birth to my oldest brother at the age of 17 and then to me at the age of 20, I was not foreign to the topic. But I had mixed feelings about it. It was always the same story when it came to the unplanned pregnancies at my high school. 

The girls stopped coming to school. They always said they were coming back but most never did. Perhaps they lacked the support from school staff. Maybe they were unsure of how to balance their new role with the ever-present demands of school. Often, their boyfriends started working and the girls would spend their time at home, becoming accustomed to maternal life and all it entailed.

 It’s what my mother had done. She’d given up her peak years to take care of my three brothers and me. It was not until we were significantly older that she finally decided to go back to school to become a teacher, a goal she continues to pursue to this day. Still, it was her hiatus that always bothered me. Why couldn’t she have still gone to school and taken care of us? Why did she wait so long? When I got pregnant and heard the reactions, I realized why: It was easier.

No longer was I the wunderkind valedictorian who was going to take over the world. People heard I was pregnant and it was almost as if they were giving out eulogies rather than congratulations or morale boosters. “She’s so young,” they’d say. “She had such a bright future. She worked so hard in high school. It’s a shame.”

Fueled in part by doubt and adversity, I was inspired and motivated to finish school. I was determined to continue. I could not let people be right. I was not doomed to fail.

Every day I went to school, and my anxiety increased as my belly grew. I began to realize that I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I was exhausted. I would drive to school, park, and walk to class in a sleep-deprived state. I was not in the best state health wise. I was tired and scared that I would not have the strength to carry this load.  Not just going to school and graduating on time, but parenthood itself.

This is where it began. What it really feels like to be a young parent. In addition to the typical worries of students my age, I began to wonder if was going to be a good parent. The feeling would eat at me. I had so much homework as it was, how was I going to balance a child as well? What was I getting myself into?

In most communities, venting brings one response: “Well… you should’ve used protection,” or “You had a choice.” And this is true.

As young parents, we do have a choice to make. A difficult choice to make that has been debated at federal levels for decades. For some, abortion is a simple procedure. For other, an anguishing option. But there are many of us that immediately feel a connection to what is already growing inside of us.

Here’s the kicker: while one decision is politically debated about whether or not it’s a personal choice, the other is a life-long commitment that is forever viewed as the wrong personal choice.  The choice to parent young.

Because as young parents we could have “been smarter about contraception” or made an alternative choice instead of creating struggles. This is what the media tells us. This is what society tells us. It creates a feeling of drowning from the inside out.

It is making a sound choice about our parenting and our plans, only to have someone tell us “you’re so young. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It is sharing my pregnancy news with family and former close friends and hearing, “When are you quitting school?”

It is going to school, raising my son and being asked by family members why I’m so focused on my homework. Why is my son crying while I’m on my laptop trying to finish a news package for my journalism class? Why did I even choose to go into journalism? What kind of earning can you make in that field?

It is being told by numerous people that you’ll have help at a moment’s notice, but always being denied help when you need it most.

It’s taking finals while trying to put your child to sleep.

You try to come up for air and realize that the baby years will pass. School will end soon. All the while, you’re still treading water. The drowning feeling never goes away. But you learn to adapt.

School finishes and work begins. Instead of having class hours to work around, you now need a full 9-hour babysitter for your children, and daycare isn’t cheap.

Even when you have reached “adulthood,’’ you have already been a parent for years.  It sets you apart from the parents who had their children at a socially appropriate age. You never really fit in anywhere.

You fall into a specific category, constantly trying to make sure you don’t drown from the steady influx of stigma. It is difficult to parent under the scrutiny of everyone around you, when you are doing the best you can.

The suffocating stigma must end. We have a right to parent with dignity.

For three years, the #NoTeenShame mamas have worked to push back against the stigmatization of young parents and their children within teen pregnancy prevention campaigns. Young families are valuable members of society and deserve respect and recognition.

Messaging affects attitudes and public perception.  Public attitudes and perception in turn directly impact the manner in which young parents are treated by their families and in the community. As a teen, innate self-assuredness only holds up so long when faced with discouragement from school personal, medical staff, family, and friends. Add to that the enormous pressure of saving face amidst widely publicized ad campaigns proclaiming that being a mother is incompatible with success and productivity, and you are left with countless young parents feeling isolated and unsupported.

As you may know, May is National Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month. During this time, organizations such as The Candie’s Foundation push messages about teen pregnancy that stigmatize teen parents. Ads with statements such as, “You’re supposed to be changing the world, not diapers” are widely distributed, and reinforce the negative perceptions that many people have in regards to young parents. While these ads and messages are both unethical and offensive, they also serve no role in actually informing young people with accurate sex education.

Irresponsible. Stupid. Promiscuous. Unmotivated. Lost Causes.

These are some of the terms adults and organizations are using to negatively describe young parents. Unfortunately, many Teen Pregnancy Prevention campaigns feed into these particular stereotypes. Again, why does this messaging matter? First and foremost, it serves to undermine the confidence and self-perception of young people who are already parenting. The condescending tone of these ads are not lost on teens who are struggling to come to terms with their role as parents, despite the negative pushback they receive from society. We could talk for days about the ways in which this messaging negatively affects the identities of young parents and they ways in which we bond with our children.

Yet teens are not the only ones consuming these ads and their negative implications. Educators, social workers, and medical personnel are also exposed to these messages that portray young parents as problematic individuals in our society. These are the people who play a pivotal role in the outcomes and well-being of young families, by providing support, resources and access to crucial services necessary for success. But what happens when the gatekeepers themselves hold deeply ingrained negative beliefs about young parents? Do they feel compelled to go out of their way to lend a hand to parenting youth, if they feel they are a lost cause to begin with?

Anyone who believes pregnant and parenting teens deserve respect, support, and an equal chance at creating the lives they want is already a part of the #NoTeenShame movement. Elevate your commitment to spreading #NoTeenShame by sharing the federal Title IX Rights fact sheet with a pregnant and parenting teen, challenging your own internal biases, calling out campaigns that are stigmatizing, or simply telling a teen parent that they are valuable and important members of our society.

“After enrolling at a new public high school during my senior year, I quickly realized how difficult it would be to succeed as a pregnant 17-year-old student. I had assumed that my peers would be the ones isolating me or making me feel like an outsider, so I was shocked when my teachers became my bullies. I did not want to stay in school when the people who were meant to educate and guide me were often the same ones judging and shaming me. Thanks to the work of a single dedicated social worker for teen parents in my school and her ability to advocate for my Title IX rights, I was able to graduate with my class. But not everyone will have such resources. And with that in mind, I feel it is vital to remind expectant and parenting students of their federal right to an education.” 

There are a lot of things about being pregnant in the early 1990s that are so different from the pregnancy experience these days. For one thing, there wasn’t a mega-maternity industry so I wore oversized sweatshirts, sweatpants, and jeans. It was the baggy clothes fashion era so it all worked out, and the big moomoo dresses with bows would not have been a good look among my peers. I rocked my colorful suede skirts and shorts with my coordinated printed rayon shirts as long as I could. By February 1992, my small frame had put on about 35 lbs and trekking to school in that Boston winter wasn’t easy. Before I left 10th grade for my 12 week maternity leave, I wore my big puffy goose down coat with the fur collar, my backpack filled with too many damn textbooks, and my huge baby bump. I went to school right up until my last week because I was determined and I didn’t know anything about my Title IX rights. 

So if any of you follow me on Twitter or know me personally, you know that my son, Devonte’, turned 23 on Tuesday. I still can’t believe it! Yesterday I posted a picture of Devonte’ and I out celebrating his 23rd birthday on my Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. A high school friend commented that she remembers when I was pregnant with him. This friend has one of only a few pictures of me when I was pregnant with Devonte’… and that hurts. My family has photo album after photo album of memories that we wanted to remember, but there was so much shame and embarrassment about my pregnancy that we didn’t pull out the Polaroid to memorialize my journey. 

As I think back to that time in my life I am sad that I don’t have pictures to remember my first pregnancy. It wasn’t okay for me to say cheese for pictures and be happy about being pregnant. I was embarrassed when people would stare at me in public… a few times strangers would be so rude with their stares and comments that I would be pissed enough to say “fuck you”, but most of the time I was just ashamed. That shame and the stigma about my reality have been heavier than the 35 lbs I carried until March 10, 1992. It turned into the negative things I said to myself about myself that became years of clinical depression, along with the bullshit maternity leave education I received for 12 weeks, as well as the piss poor medical care my son received as an infant, and the numbness I carried with my “fuck you I will prove to you we will make it” attitude that got me through high school and into college.

Things are different now from the 1990s… Target maternity fashion line, Babies R Us, smartphone apps to help you follow your pregnancy, digital baby bump photo albums to share on social media so your friends and family can celebrate with you, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Snapchat, and blogs about everything you want to know and don’t want to know about pregnancy and parenting. Things are different, but the shame and stigma I faced and carried with me is still the same for young moms and dads in my community. That is why I am so proud to be a founding member of #NoTeenShame and it warms my heart every time I go through #NoTeenShame on Instagram and see all of the beautiful pictures and statuses. I celebrate the courage it takes to parent and especially those of us that have to parent under the constant weight of shame, stigma, and public scrutiny. I salute and celebrate US!