That first week of school is always hectic.  Meeting after meeting, seeing students for the first time, a heap of administrative tasks on top of planning a dynamic first-day lesson.  By Friday night, I was nearly catatonic.  Fortunately, I had my couch, Chester, and Everybody Hates Chris on Peacock to help me wind down.

Saturday was a trip to the Claude Monet Immersive Experience with my friend Courtney.  Saturday night, more Peacocking.  Sunday was my usual routine of the gym and grocery shopping, followed by a trip to CVS to see if I could get some frames for those Monet prints I got.  None in the 24x18 size, but they did have a deal on my favorite candy, Nestle’s Crunch Bars: two for $3.  I couldn’t resist.
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But the highlight would be the DMV-area Community of Single People Meetup I put together for our friend Arminda’s visit from Topeka, a world away from DC.  On the walk from the Metro to the restaurant, I got some nice pictures of Rock Creek, the Potomac River, and the historic Watergate Hotel, which, in four years of living in our nation’s capital, I’d never seen:

I got to the Waterfront at around 4:40, where I met Tracey at the front.  Arminda followed, straight from her trip to the Kennedy Center; then Chris; then Lisa; then Kelly.  We had a table right next to the window; an outside table would have nice, but the weather was way too hot, and I couldn’t have my planned desert, the aforementioned Nestle’s Crunch Bar, melt.

And, as always, the conversation flowed.  New restaurant recommendations (Sweetwater Tavern, Jimmy’s, Chewish Deli, Brooklyn Bagel Bakery); religious preferences; sports; solo travel, which we’ve all done to an extent, and I think is totally badass; sketchy restaurant practices; and of course, our reaffirmations of our preference of singlehood, which is why our group exists.  As a marginalized population, we need to be among like-minded folks in a world that privileges marriage, which I will say at every opportunity until singles are looked at as equal humans.

After we parted ways, Lisa dropped me off at the Foggy Bottom Metro stop, where I indulged in my app.  But I got a little sad, as I typically do, after these Childfree Singles and CoSP Meetups end, because I’m going back to our matrimaniacal world away from this temporary utopia where we can talk solo travel and not wanting a significant other and know we won’t be judged for it.  Once out of Lisa’s car, I was in back the world where couplehood is conflated with happiness.
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Someday, I dream that such a utopia will form its own city.  Our sextet would make for a good start.

So, when I last wrote, my ceiling was getting repaired.  In talking to my therapist, Rob, I revealed that I was more upset about my ceiling fan being broken than the roof.  Rob validated my feelings, likened it to a sandcastle being knocked down.  After all, I’d put in quite a bit of work on it.  I look at my home as a living piece of artwork.  Fortunately, the complex did replace it.

In the past month, a futon has entered my guest room; Chester has claimed it permanently.  I also did a bunch of shopping at HomeGoods: placemats, silverware, coffee mugs, and a nice paper towel holder.  I felt so smug being the only solo guy there, until I saw another one.  Oh well, humility is good, I suppose.  That said, the smugness returned when I became a rewards member.

Chester’s gotten used to the new place very quickly.  He has more space to move around it, and he alternates between the futon, the new recliner in the main living room, and me when I sit on the couch.  The new bedframe has made the bed higher, so he can’t jump on it.  I got him some steps to reach, but he didn’t feel like walking on them.  Oh well, I tried.

There was a trip to New York to see my Mom and brother, which was a nice break from the routine of waiting on furniture, moving boxes, and being on the phone with blinds specialist, contractors, and customer service representatives.  I love the blinds I have (especially the blackouts in my bedroom), even though the installer does have to return due to one of the valances being unbalanced.  It wasn’t an exotic vacation (or any kind, as I did schoolwork in parts).  But I did get to have some fun.  I saw Deadpool and Wolverine with my brother, met up with fellow singleton Doug in Hoboken, and had dinner with John, another singleton, at one of my favorite old haunts, Mahwah, New Jersey’s State Line Diner.  There was also some solo time in Ridgewood, NJ, another cool Jersey town, and a walk in Nyack, my favorite spot in Rockland County, with my Mom.  This break was needed.  And that Amtrak trip is always fun and relaxing; I plan to do it more.

​Friday, August 16 marked three months I’d been in the new home.  And, coincidentally, it was the day I needed to report back to school for our opening faculty meeting.  Roberto put in a new outlet by my nightstand; I left once they came in.  Of course, once I got to campus, he texted me wondering where the paint was.  D’oh!, I thought.  I had to get back on the subway, walk to my place, go to the storage unit that housed the paint, and bring it to him.  Fortunately, I was able to make the session on time, and my chair was understanding about this issue.  As per my previous post, if a sick child is a valid enough reason to be late, a home issue should be as well.

Things did get a bit surreal when I entered and left the Van Ness-UDC station on the Red Line.  I used to live right there, five minutes from campus.  Now, I was commuting there with the rest of the suburbanites, with the Washington Post app on my phone ($1 a month for the “educator rate”) to keep me company.  I was reading an article about how JD Vance isn’t actually pro-family.  My righteous indignation was interrupted by the loudspeaker blaring “Van Ness – UDC.”  It hit the moment I exited the train and entered the platform.  I no longer live here, I thought.  After the session ended and I waited for the arriving train, it hit again.  This stop is where I used to exit to go home.  Now, it’s just the start, I thought.  But, when I entered my place, and Chester gave me that look that said, “Treats! Now, human!”, I knew I was home.

Parenthood is much-revered in our world, at least in theory.  Think about all the money that goes into baby showers, and many countries (rightfully) give parents paid time off to care for children.  And I’m on a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee; we had a discussion on whether to advocate for building pump stations for the many single parents our school has among its student population. 

I’m all for it; I think single parenting is the most badass thing a person can do.  And even with a partner, parenting is hard (maybe harder for some).  I respect the challenges parents face.  But as a childfree by choice person, I see inequities in the way employers treat parents compared those without kids, whether they be childless or childfree (there is a difference).

One doesn’t have to read the news deeply to see how much of a firestorm JD Vance’s comments about “miserable childless cat ladies” has made these last few weeks.  I’m a childFREE cat guy who stands with childless and childfree cat ladies.  Yet I do leave myself open to microaggressions, like in this bingo card.

I’ll share one example.  I commented on how tired I was one morning, and a colleague said, “I was up at five this morning because of my kid!  You don’t know what tired is!”  So I wasn’t allowed to be tired, even though the cause was not a crying baby?

But I suspected I wasn’t the only childfree person in higher education.  And in a world where Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion is a major part of our conversation, being without child, whether by choice or by circumstance, should be a part of these discussions.  I put out a call on the Higher Ed Learning Collective for: 1) institutional policies that allow parents certain privileges that people who are childfree/childless don’t receive; or 2) any microaggressions they may have received, whether on the card or not.  These are some patterns I noticed:

Scheduling preferences
Oftentimes, parents get preference in the times they teach because they “have families” due to the assumption that the childfree/childless don’t have lives outside of work or the thought that their personal lives aren’t as busy or as important.  Many faculty reported some variation of this experience.
 
Free/Reduced Tuition
Many universities provide free tuition for the children of employees.  I love this benefit.  However, one person indicated when they proposed discounted tuition for their niece, she received no response.  Another person appeared to have read my mind when they proposed that those without children should have the option of sponsoring a scholarship for a student.  If this isn’t “skin in the game,” I don’t know what is.
 
Obligatory Baby Shower Contributions
A few people wrote this, which made me very happy. I’m all for giving a few dollars as a congratulatory gift.  After all, giving birth is a major milestone for some people.  But why didn’t get a party when I got tenure?  When I received promotion (without tenure) at my previous university, a colleague gave me a $25 gift card to the Cinemark.  But when our department secretary announced her pregnancy, everybody had to contribute a monetary gift and attend a potluck shower. I was relatively junior at the time, so I didn’t say anything about the inequity.  With tenure, I might be more inclined to do so. 
 
Microaggressions
A few faculty received comments on the bingo card such as “You’ll change your mind” and “it’s different when they’re your own.”  Some even confessed to being asked to take on additional service work because “you have no kids at home.  “You’re obviously free.”
 
Miscellaneous
These weren’t as common, but it’s important to note:

1. One person’s institution, a private Catholic university, deposited $500 annually into a dependent care spending account for employees with eligible dependents.  Those without kids didn’t get anything.
2. In one department, having a sick child was a valid reason to miss a meeting.  Being sick yourself, not so much.
3. The university’s insurance covering a faculty member’s child, but not birth control, which is a cornerstone of reproductive rights.
4. In one school, faculty without children are required to pay higher health insurance to support those with kids.
5. A single and childfree person could get two free tickets to any campus event (theater, music, sporting events), but if they had a family, they could get as many tickets as needed.  Note: that was scaled back to two tickets per faculty member.

Of note: there are some cases where it’s beneficial for some: One person, a self-described “night owl” who preferred teaching between 4 and 10 p.m., took evening slots and was appreciated by her “childed colleagues.”

Some hope for the future exists in our classrooms.  A Gerontology professor I spoke with has regularly faced criticism for being childfree yet teaching courses in Human Development.  In her words, a speech pathology professor doesn’t need to have had a stroke in order to understand the science of how it affects speech patterns.  As part of her pedagogy, she teaches students about the difference between “childless” and “childfree.”

The childfree/childless population should be included as part of our DEI conversations.  Many people are unable to have children, and there can be trauma associated with it.  And there are people who just don’t want to have children; their reasons are nobody’s business.  And if lifestyle choices can be rewarded (i.e., additional insurance benefits for a spouse), then the choice not to have children should be considered as well.  Students who may not have children can benefit from this knowledge.

I always appreciate allyship from parents. One academic mother had some excellent advice for the childfree/childless to achieve equity: create a baby in your mind.  In other words, have some reason you cannot do something they’re asking.  For me, it’s my cat.  In my mind, if this colleague can pick up their human kiddo, I should be able to take my cat to his veterinarian’s appointment or be around to give him his medications, which need to be timed every twelve hours. 

Nobody’s challenged me yet.  And if they ever do, I’ll direct them here.  After all, I am a Dad to this cat.

I don’t usually wear shirts with political slogans.  But JD Vance’s comments about childless cat ladies hit a nerve with me, being as how I’m essentially a childFREE cat lady with male organs.  I shouldn’t have spent the money on that shirt; I’d already forked down thousands of dollars on home repairs and renovations.  But I couldn’t not, especially while my amygdala was taking the driver’s seat (probably not the best time to make major decisions, but that’s what it is).
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The shirt made its way to my door on Saturday, so I was wearing it on Sunday.  I’d gone down to the Dupont Circle area to meet a friend.  While on the subway, nobody even gave it a second look.  Once I exited to the platform, I made like a peacock and raised my feathers.  One woman smiled at me.

Before meeting my friend, I walked around the Farmer’s Market (best Farmer’s Market I’ve ever been to, by the way).  One woman looked at it and said, “We do!” I gave a thumbs up with a tight fist, the best thumbs-up ever, IMHO.  A few more smiles.  A couple of askance looks (we do get a lot of tourists).  And one woman selling jewelry asked me where I got the shirt and commented, “That came out quickly!”  Sadly, there was no merch that caught my fancy. My friend liked my shirt, and we caught up.

Later that afternoon, I made my way back to Bethesda, where I did my weekly grocery shop.  The city is very political.  The suburbs, not so much.  I did a smile from a teenage girl with her mother (future Childfree?) and another lady in the parking lot.  The man with the wife and kid looked briefly, but then looked away.  Discomfort, maybe?

I’ve written about Singles Studies for years, but the primal part of me likes to gauge the reactions of everyday folks when I respond, “I’m happily solo” to the “Are you married?” question and “I’m Childfree by Choice” to the “Do you have kids?” question.  Sometimes, said responses met with a stammer (“OH, ummm, uhhhh, ok”) or appreciative laughter.  I got a “cool” once after a pause.  I was bingoed by a waitress once back in May (“But you’ll die alone”), but after a pause, I gently corrected her (“Don’t ever ask someone why they don’t have kids”).  She was apologetic about it, and I resisted the urge to write “Read about singlism” in that line that read “Tip.”  She got her 20%.

I have a “Purrrroud to be a Childless Cat Guy” on its way as well.  I’m aware the correct term is childfree, but I feel I can take back that word from Vance, much like single women are doing with the term “spinster.”

I didn't think this display would turn into a blog post, but they say "Write what you know."  So there.
 

I never write about what I do on International Childfree Day, but given JD Vance’s recent comments, which explicitly disparaged women without kids, I felt it was appropriate.
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I was up at 5:30; I had brought Chester into my new home the evening before.  He’d been staying with Grandma over the past couple of months while I went through all the fun associated with moving; the transition would have been way too chaotic for him. 

Chester’s pretty much taken over the couch; in essence, he said, “You sit on the recliner now!”  I’d made an appointment with 1-800-GOT-JUNK to discard a door and some blinds left by the previous owner, as well as an old bedframe that was tossed to the side in favor of a new one.  There was another one with a blinds installer, who was able to get me in thanks to a rescheduled appointment.  Now the place feels complete.

On the work front, I was certified in Quality Matters (QM), a program that oversees the design of online, asynchronous college courses, which are more popular than ever.  At my school, all such courses are required to be QM-compliant; I’m teaching such a course.  I spent much of the spring designing it, and I submitted it in July.  After receiving feedback, I spent much of the morning revising it – all for the benefit of students who did not spring from my loins.

On the personal front, I heard from Steph, one of my fellow childfree soldiers, who wished me a Happy Childfree Day with this lovely meme:

I might have liked to see at least one picture of a single person, but hey, progress is progress.  Matt, also childfree, invited me to trek up to Baltimore to see a free performance from a group called Pigeons Playing Ping Pong.  Pete had proposed this a month earlier, but I’m involved in a nonprofit that helps the homeless; we have our business meeting the first Thursday of every month.  As far as I know, I’m not responsible for any of their births either.  But I do help them.  If that’s not a stake in the future, I don’t know what is.  Hear that, JD?
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After a jog and a nice lunch, I went down to the library to borrow a copy of Adam Sandler’s 50 First Dates.  The only reason I’d watch it is for research on my book on film tropes involving singlehood, which this film most likely has in spades.  My hope is that this book will help people view pro-romance and anti-single tropes in film more critically.  I’d say that’s skin in the game.
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Later that night, I talked with fellow childfree friend and singles crusader Christina of Onely.  It was a deep conversation in which we helped each other with some personal issues.  Pretty unselfish if you ask me.

I also had a nice dinner of leftover chicken tikka misala from nearby Commonwealth Indian Restaurant.  I’ve gotten some nice garlic naan at Whole Foods to round it out.  During the meal, Chester gave me that look that said, “Give me treats, human!”  I did so.  Taking care of a cat that some family abandoned once they popped out a child: well, I’d say that’s pretty selfless.

Last year, I became an organizer for a group called Childfree Singles of the DMV.  I took a break this summer while I was immersed in moving, but when I saw a lady named April make a Happy Childfree Day announcement to her Annapolis-based group, I followed suit. From there, I organized a Meetup for September at a Filipino restaurant called Purple Patch, recommended to me by my good friend Mark.  Such gatherings provide a safe space for childfree people in a world that stigmatizes them. I’ve formed friendships with others and have seen some of these folks do the same with each other.  Who knew that a single, childfree person cared enough about society to try to bring people together!?

And now for something lighthearted: during my trip to Giant Food, I passed by someone in an aisle, and right after saying excuse me, I said, "Happy Childfree Day." I figured it's appropriate given how many people have said "Happy Father's Day" to me, assuming I’m father of human children.

When I went to Whole Foods, I said the same thing to the cashier there.  She said, “Thank you.”  I don’t know if she knew about it or was just being polite.  But I think we should normalize doing so.  So I’ll be doing that next August 1 as well.

My next piece will be about how we should have a Childfree March next August 1.  Stay tuned…