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The Femme Natale cast.
The Femme Natale cast.

ParentsMay 23, 2018

Babies in a theatre audience? Get out the pitchforks!

The Femme Natale cast.
The Femme Natale cast.

A theatre show written by parents and for parents is welcoming mums to see the show with their babies. It might be a first in New Zealand. Producer Rachel Millar outlines why they’ve made the decision to be accessible.

After children and babies in cafes and children on planes, babies in the theatre is the horrific urban myth that always pops up in discussions about accessibility. Certain people who want public spaces to be free of children always have a tale about how they were at a cafe and a group of children attacked the wait staff like Lord of the Flies as their grinning mothers cheered them – but a story about the theatre is never far off.

There are claims of shows being ruined by screaming babies, their mothers beaming in delight that they are ruining everything for the other audience members. Never verified. No citation needed. It’s always an interesting claim because I don’t know any mothers with newborns who are awake for a 9pm screening, or any with older children who would want to take them to a 9pm showing of Puppetry of the Penis. But still, people insist it has happened.

Earlier this week I read Linda Jane Keegan’s column about the lack of child-friendly public places and it struck a chord, as it did for many parents I know. As a primary caregiver to an infant, I don’t often go to the theatre, or to comedy shows, or to talks.

Why not? Because I’m the primary caregiver of an infant. Yeah, it’s that simple.

I don’t know of any recent show or performance for adults that has allowed babes in arms. Even the World of Wearable Art show, which is full of the sort of costumes that would entertain my baby for hours, told me that I would have to buy him a full price $50 ticket if I really wanted to bring him (despite the fact that he would not actually be in a seat).

So why isn’t there more flexibility?

Having a baby hasn’t suddenly changed my desire to go to cultural events, in fact if anything I want to go more. I spent most of the first year of my son’s life with him – a year with a child who didn’t speak, or with other parents whose children didn’t yet speak.

Aside from the weekly baby cinema screenings, parents with young children – and single parents even more so – are excluded from cultural activities.

As with any discussion about making spaces more friendly to sole caregivers, I need to make that boring justification: I am not advocating taking babies everywhere. Not at all. I’m now back at work and skip out of the door on workdays delighted at the prospect of going to the toilet on my own and having a coffee while leafing through the newspaper in my lunch break.

But if you have a newborn, are breastfeeding, or a single parent, it can be very difficult to leave the kid at home. And that’s why new parents so often miss out on the cultural events in their area.

Nobody is suggesting children should go to adult shows at night. Nobody is suggesting children should go to shows with adult themes or violence. Nobody is advocating that a toddler going through a biting stage attends a midnight dress-up of Rocky Horror. But surely we can talk about what mothers of babies actually want: the chance to see a performance with their baby on their lap feeding or sleeping. Sure, they may cry, but I guarantee a mother is going to be more stressed about this than anyone else in the audience. They’ll likely smother them with a boob or be out of there in three seconds flat. The myth of the mother who delights in having a child scream for hours during a theatre show is just that – a myth.

So, when a parent friend of mine, Fingal Pollock, told me she was creating a comedy show called Femme Natale, by parents and for parents, I couldn’t wait to be involved. I was even more excited to find out there’s a ‘relaxed’ matinee performance where parents can bring their babes in arms. For free. And they won’t get stares. Or tuts. They’ll be *gasp* welcome.

Fingal says the idea behind the baby-friendly matinee was to give mums who couldn’t get out at night – or whose babies were so young they couldn’t be left for an hour – an opportunity to see the show. So, along with BATS Theatre in Wellington, she’s leading the way.

Hopefully this show will inspire others to follow suit. Imagine more performances that welcomed mothers! More cultural experiences, more opportunities to be out in the world with others instead of confined to home!

Femme Natale is a raucous comedy that is about motherhood (note – not for children!). The cast is entirely made up of parents; Fingal herself has two young children and the rehearsal process has been entirely flexible, scheduled around the needs of babies and the schedules of mothers. Maybe that’s why they made plans from the get go to welcome primary caregivers into the audience.

Mothers (and one token dad!) have written the skits, directly derived from their own experiences of parenthood, which are truthful and personal, with a comic twist. And you can watch it all with your baby snoozing on your lap.

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The Handmaid’s Tale
The Handmaid’s Tale

ParentsMay 22, 2018

Surrogacy in the age of The Handmaid’s Tale

The Handmaid’s Tale
The Handmaid’s Tale

The Handmaid’s Tale portrays surrogacy as an act of violent exploitation. Surrogacy researcher Hannah Gibson considers how the show affects our understanding of surrogacy in New Zealand and asks: are women here being exploited?

Recently, I sat down with popcorn to watch the second season of The Handmaid’s Tale on Lightbox. Based on the 1985 book by Margaret Atwood, the show is a dystopian nightmare set in Gilead, a totalitarian regime located where the United States used to be. There, fertile women are captured and used as surrogates to reproduce children to combat a falling birth rate.

The wives of the men who run Gilead are infertile and are expected to welcome, or at least tolerate, the presence of the handmaid in their house. Together, wife and handmaid must participate in monthly ‘ceremonies’ where the latter lies between the wife’s open legs and is penetrated by the husband. Surrogacy, in this land, is akin to sexual servitude and women are valued only for their reproductive abilities. Their bodies are simply vessels to be used.

As a surrogacy researcher, I have been immersed in the New Zealand surrogacy community for the past two years. I’ve been spending my time talking with everyone involved in this form of assisted reproduction, including infertility doctors, embryologists, lawyers, counsellors, surrogates and intended parents.

The Handmaid’s Tale came onto my radar more out of curiosity than professional interest, but since then I’ve become increasingly interested in how it might shape people’s understandings of surrogacy. That’s especially the case for people who don’t have direct or indirect experience of surrogacy themselves (and no, reading about celebrities who have had children with surrogates doesn’t count).

So how close is this portrayal of surrogacy to reality?

According to one of my study participants who is a surrogate herself, “The Handmaid’s Tale is scary, but it’s nothing to do with [my] reality.” Her experience, and that of countless other surrogates, bears little resemblance to the practice depicted on the show, which not only involves sex but is also non-consensual.

On the other hand, I’ve been told countless times by members of the public that “women shouldn’t be used for their reproductive abilities”. They say surrogacy is exploitative and demeaning. But is that really what is happening?

First, some context. There are two types of legal altruistic surrogacy in New Zealand: gestational (where the surrogate is implanted with an embryo that has been fertilised in a lab using the intending mother’s or donor’s egg and the intending father’s or donor’s sperm), and traditional surrogacy (where the surrogate donates her egg and gestates the fetus). While gestational surrogacy sits firmly in the world of reproductive technology, traditional surrogacy is done via home insemination using a syringe.

In short, neither practice involves sexual acts.

Fundamental to any decision a woman makes to be a surrogate is the one thing that is missing from the lives of the handmaids: freedom. In fact, what the show has taught me about surrogacy is not that it is bad or should never be allowed. Rather it spotlighted the importance of free choice and consent.

Surrogates here value and fiercely defend the right for bodily autonomy (and do not belong to a totalitarian regime where they are captured and forced to procreate). For them, donating their time and womb to gestate a fetus reflects agency because they consent to do it. Women are free to be surrogates. Or to not be. Furthermore, the majority of surrogates actively seek out the opportunity to help those who are for a variety of reasons unable to gestate a baby.

Only altruistic surrogacy is legal here. Without getting into the fraught discussion of whether surrogates should be compensated for their time and effort, there are specific things that I believe define local surrogates. In the two years I’ve spent interviewing surrogates, none of them have talked of feeling coerced into helping others create a family.

This is not to say there isn’t contention over surrogacy as an assisted reproductive practice. Further afield, there is ample discussion on whether surrogates can be exploited or mistreated, such as when India allowed commercial surrogacy. Many write of the complexity involved in transnational surrogacy, particularly when first world citizens go to third world countries to pay a relatively small sum for a woman to carry their child. At the same time, we cannot say that in some countries – or on the very rare occasion here in New Zealand – women are not coerced into carrying a baby for another.

Being a surrogate is not an easy journey, and the decision to do it should never be taken lightly. However, that does not mean that the practice is inherently exploitative. What’s paramount is to start from a place of free choice and a willingness to work with others – whether that be fertility doctors, counsellors, intending parents or  surrogacy support groups – to create a plan that everyone involved is happy with.

Ultimately, looking at New Zealand surrogacy through the lens of The Handmaid’s Tale only highlights the fundamental reasons that it’s a positive thing.

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