‘They Loved Being Moms’

Jillian M. Duquaine-Watson, a full-time senior lecturer and director of the master’s program in interdisciplinary studies at the University of Texas at Dallas, knows what it’s like to be a single mother and a college student. She was one herself, until she got married while writing her doctoral dissertation.

Now divorced, with daughters who are 23 and 14, she has written an ethnography that explores the marginalization and stereotyping that many single mothers still face on American campuses today. Mothering by Degrees: Single Mothers and the Pursuit of Postsecondary Education (Rutgers University Press, May 2017) is based on interviews with 86 women who attended the University of Iowa, Texas Woman’s University, and Kirkwood Community College. The book offers a series of case studies of the women, along with guidance for colleges on combating the “chilly climate” that persists on many campuses.

Ms. Duquaine-Watson spoke with The Chronicle about family pressure, finger-pointing, and the motivation that single mothers draw from their children.

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In the prologue, you talk about your love for your grandmother but also her scorn for single mothers. Her favorite swear word was “bastard,” and when you got pregnant at age 24, she urged you to marry a boyfriend she didn’t even like so you would have someone to take care of your daughter and you. In what ways did she shape your early views about single motherhood, and how has she shaped your research since then?

Some of my fondest memories were the time I spent with my grandmother on the dairy farm that she and my grandfather owned. So that was certainly part of the socialization that framed my understanding of single motherhood. Of course, it’s not the only source. I was raised in a very strict Catholic household, and sex outside of marriage was definitely regarded as sinful and shameful. My ideas about single motherhood changed when I became an adult. I expanded my social circle, encountered new ideas, new ways of thinking. But my grandmother’s attitude definitely shaped my early thinking. For me, in framing this project, it was important to engage in some self-reflection and contemplate my own intellectual journey, because it’s important for readers to understand where a researcher is coming from.

Do you feel personally driven to disprove the stereotypes that your grandmother shared — that single women are inferior and burdens to society?

I don’t know if it’s so much about disproving as it is about trying to give a more accurate understanding of who single mothers are, what their realities are, and how they make choices. I’m not trying to say single motherhood is awesome and amazing and everyone should do it, but I’m really trying to understand the life course that led the women to become single mothers. I’m also trying to unpack the textures of their lives and give a better understanding of what it is like for them to raise children by themselves while also pursuing a college degree, and in many cases combining part- or full-time work with both of those other roles.

What were your years like as a “never-married single mother” in the 1990s? Were you in college then? Working?

Some of both. I became a single mother while I was getting my undergraduate degree. Most of that passed in a blur, because I was raising this tiny human and doing full-time academics, then added in an internship, working part time. I don’t remember a whole lot of it, other than I didn’t sleep a lot, and I didn’t have time to do anything other than focus on academics and take care of my daughter.

Undergraduate was in some ways easier. It wasn’t that the work wasn’t challenging, but it was challenging in a different way when I got to grad school for my master’s. I really faced more overt negativity, in part from faculty members, in part from other students. For some of them, there was this idea that I couldn’t possibly have intellectually earned my way into this program. It was really, really tough, and the sense of isolation was profound. There were no other single mothers in the program, really no one with children at all. Most of the faculty members were older and had grown children or had chosen not to have children.

Once I got into a doctoral program, it was better. The faculty had a more feminist sense of how universities should be. They were certainly more supportive or more welcoming.

The bulk of your book focuses on the challenges the single moms in your study faced — financially, managing time, and handling child care. What trade-offs were they forced to make that typical students don’t face?

It’s not that they don’t have some of the same trade-offs, but they manifest in a different way. Lots of students face financial challenges, but these are women who are raising children by themselves. So they’re paying for things like day care. Lots of students take out student loans, but these women were relying on student loans as a way to keep their heads above water. The majority were living below the poverty line. They were really maxing out on student loans just to make ends meet. The idea was that this was a trade-off — the degree was supposed to help you secure a lucrative future. But one student talked about loans as gambling: You are playing the odds that this is going to get you a better job, this degree. But there’s no way of knowing that.

These women had the idea that if they earned this degree, they’d be able to secure a middle-class future. But that wasn’t likely to happen because of student-loan payments.

What compelled your subjects to seek higher education, despite the challenges? Was it mostly this desire to join the middle class?

That was a significant part of it. In lots of ways, single mothers aren’t all that different from students who are not parents. They want a credential, a qualification, a social-class achievement. But their children were actually a big motivation for them to pursue a degree. It was in part about trying to achieve a middle-class future, but because they wanted that for their children. They wanted to give their children a house, with a backyard and a dog — all those things we associate with a middle-class lifestyle. They also wanted to do it because they really wanted to demonstrate to other people and to themselves that they were good moms. This was another way to let other people know they were worthy. They also really saw themselves as role models for their children.

You write that your research subjects both challenged stereotypes about single women and embraced cultural ideals of motherhood — how so?

They really embraced this notion that good mothers are self-sacrificing, that they put the needs of their children ahead of their own needs, that good mothering is time-intensive.

But they challenge the stereotypes too. This idea that single mothers are lazy — they talk at length about how much work they do, the sleep deprivation. They challenge the idea that single mothers are irresponsible. Academically, most of them did quite well. They had great time-management skills, they were so detailed about financial planning. They were hyperaware of their budgets, they were also really goal-oriented in regards to career.

There’s also this idea that single mothers are bad mothers — or that they’re unfit. These women had close relationships with their children. They didn’t wax poetic about it, but they loved being moms, and they loved their kids.

You describe college campuses as a “chilly climate” for single moms.

It’s astounding to me how pervasive the chilly climate continues to be. Despite discussions about Title IX, and despite our increased attention to diversity and inclusiveness, our colleges haven’t kept up with the reality of the college population. We know more than a quarter of the student population is raising children. When we look at the policies and supports we have, it’s nowhere near enough to keep up with the population increase.

It manifests in a faculty member who refuses to accept taking care of a sick child as an excused absence. And in treating single mothers differently. One faculty member told a pregnant student she should get an abortion. Another told a divorced student she should have stayed married. Those kinds of comments should be unthinkable.

Students certainly play a role, too, with demeaning stereotypical comments. Treating them like they’re only single mothers. Not wanting to work with them on class assignments.

How do institutional policies and practices disadvantage single moms?

We don’t see lots of campuses that in their formal policies indicate that you must allow caring for a sick child as an excused absence. If it’s not implemented at the institutional level, it’s up to faculty discretion.

Things like required attendance at out-of-class events can also be very challenging for single mothers.

There are still too few campuses that have child care. Or if they have it, it’s too costly, or they don’t prioritize the children of students. We also don’t have enough lactation rooms, changing tables, family housing for students. There aren’t many scholarships specifically for single mothers.

Is it because of a lack of funding?

That gets used as an excuse a lot. I understand institutional budgets. If universities were really committed to this student population, they would somehow find money in their budgets to support them, just like they do with other student populations.

You write about some of the varied reactions that your research has gotten from colleagues — from disbelief that single moms are on campus, to pity for the women, to blaming or dismissal, to confusion about how to respond. What’s the most common?

I see a lot of disbelief. I was just at a meeting with people from lots of different academic affiliations, and got this response of “We don’t have any students who are raising kids.” I felt like I was in this room of people who thought I was from another planet.

What’s most frustrating to me about it is things like “Oh, those poor, poor women,” pitying them as if they’re fragile flowers. They’re not powerless, but they definitely need some support. The attitude of single mothers as heroines is not a productive way to approach it, either. That ignores institutional structures that marginalize and exclude them.

What do you tell institutions that are unsure how to help single mothers?

There are a number of models people can look to, the clustering of scholarships at the University of Wisconsin at Eau Claire, for example. Some institutions have policies that say faculty members are required to excuse an absence if a student has to take care of a dependent child. There are universities that have fantastic lactation rooms; there are great models for child care, with sliding fee scales; there are comprehensive programs like Endicott College’s.

I hope one of the most significant things that comes out of the project is increasing the awareness of this student population. You can’t tell if someone is a single mom just by looking at them — they don’t walk around with a stamp on their foreheads — it’s not a visible identity. But I do think colleges can take steps to gather that information. If it’s 26 percent of our population, it seems we need more information on them.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Kelly Field is a senior reporter covering federal higher-education policy. Contact her at kelly.field@chronicle.com. Or follow her on Twitter @kfieldCHE.