This is a video conceptualization of the poem To My Wasted Eggs by Pamela L. Taylor.
I found this beautiful poem while reading the journal JAMA. The poem, written by Pamela L. Taylor, PhD., is a powerful piece made even more so by the fact that it describes the reality of many women in academia or in pursuit of an academic career.
Fertility years and provisions for it, or motherhood, are not something that makes it as a part of any conversation in medical school or graduate school. Even amongst peers it seems difficult to talk about. Perhaps it is hard to address it because in the current system of Academia, as well as within our society as a whole, motherhood and career have been rendered strong competitors, even rivals, in the life of any woman, and it seems almost impossible to grab one while still keeping hold of the other. The infrastructure is not yet there for women to achieve their full potential unless each competing need is pursued in tandem or unless resources are abundant. Sometimes even in the case of the latter, it seems hard for a woman to explain herself (even to other women) and the exhausting juggling she must do throughout her path —our paths are many and are all different— on her way to becoming her full self.
Dr. Taylor’s poem beautifully describes part of this conundrum. The poem has many possible readings and interpretations, as great poems often do. To me, amongst other interpretations, the poem seems to ask, ultimately: what does it take to be a mother in the world in which we are immersed? What does it mean to be a woman? Can we each have the opportunity — and the freedom —- to define it for ourselves?
El siguiente es una conceptualización visual del poema ”To My Waste Eggs” ( A mis óvulos perdidos ) escrito por Pamela L. Taylor, PhD. Lo encontré mientras leía la revista de medicina JAMA.
La fertilidad y la maternidad no son temas de conversacioón en la escuela de medicina o la escuela graduada. Es lo que me pareció tan poderoso en este poema. A veces, una mujer debe olvidar cierta parte de sí misma para poder sostener la otra parte importante. Otras veces, debe hacer constantes malabares, entre una parte y la otra, para poder alcanzar, tal vez, su mayor potencial. La sociedad nuestra, y la academia (inclusive, desafortunadamente, otras mujeres) no reconoce aún esta lucha constante, y no tiene la infrasestructura todavía para apoyar el que una mujer pueda alimentar la totalidad de sí misma. Para mí, aunque de manera implícita, este poema parece preguntar: ¿Qué significa ser una mujer? ¿Cómo podemos tener la oportunidad de definirlo nosotras mismas?