F is for Family or Faking It

An Encylopedia of Me blog

When I grew up in the fifties and early sixties, a normal family consisted of a mother, a father and an average of 2.5 children. The ideal dream of mom and dad, kids, dog, and house in the suburb with picket fence was alive and booming along with the babies. TV shows like Ozzie and Harriet, Father Knows Best and Leave It To Beaver helped further promote the ideal.

Families always lived in their own house in the suburbs. They might have had problems (but funny ones), mom and dad might argue (but always made up), and the worst a teen could do was get caught smoking (cigarettes).

Jokes about the one-half children aside, any deviation from this norm was seen as an aberration.

Atypical families with divorced or single parents were looked upon with a mixture of scorn in the case of the divorced; and pity or scandalous outrage in the case of single (unwed) parents. Mostly, people didn't talk about it in polite company.

I remember when I was in third grade and the class found out the mother of one of the boys was to remarry. It was only then, that we discovered – GASP – she was Divorced! She and John had been living on their own without a father in the house! The older girls (grades five and six) spread talk about scarlet women and being loose (or was it loose scarlet women?). Whatever they were talking about, I could only conjure up the image of John's pretty mother in a red crinolined dress. Up until then, I don't think anyone even knew John didn't live with his father; and the only reason any of this came to light at all was because John had to change his surname to match that of his new father -- heaven forbid that he'd have to go through life with a different last name.

Which comes to me. I spent the better part of my childhood pretending to be like the other - what I thought to be - typical kids and their families. Like all children, I wanted to fit in and be liked. Never mind the fact that I wasn't white in a predominantly white community. I wanted friends to think that I was like them.

During my public school years, I lived with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in varying combinations and households. I only lived with both parents in a "typical" family unit until about age two when my mother died. I never lived with my father again, despite the fact he remarried and had a new family. From my recollection, I lived in seven different households for varying lengths of time by the time I finished high school. - So much for the typical family scenario. - Awhile ago, I found all my old report cards and counted five different "parent" signatures on the backs.

Given the reality of my situation, it wasn't easy learning how to fake it. But fake it, I did. If anyone asked me what my father did, I'd tell them he was a business manager. If they asked whether I had brothers and sisters, I'd say no (they were only half-siblings after all). I didn't lie – I just didn't elaborate. I never asked school friends to come over and play or the jig would have been up. I went to friends' birthday parties, but I always declined the offer to have one of my own. I soldiered on with my semi-truths until high school when it was quite obvious I was living with the family of louder and more outgoing cousins.

In retrospect, I'm sure the teachers and some of the parents knew my real background, but it would have been impolite to mention it back then.

Some people bemoan the decline of the traditional Ozzie and Harriet family. Maybe there was no such beast. Maybe there were more non-traditional families out there than we ever wanted to acknowledge. I'm glad things have changed. I'm glad we view families differently and that it's okay to say you have a single parent or a divorced parent, or that you live with relatives. No more faking it.