An Interview with Anne Sorbie and Heidi Grogan
by Sharon Berg
(M)othering: An Anthology
Edited by Anne Sorbie and Heidi Grogan
Inanna Publications (2022)
Sharon Berg: First, thank you both for agreeing to put in the time for this interview. It’s highly appreciated. The Introduction to this Anthology suggests that change is inherent to mothering, which leads us back to that title with its brackets separating the M from othering – (M)othering. It put forward the idea that we can change into someone other than our earlier selves when we become a mother. Did you hold this idea about the sort of revelations that would be made in the work received for this collection before you sent out your call for submissions? Or was this part of a journey of unexpected discovery for you both as editors?
Anne Sorbie: We held to that idea before we sent out our call for submissions.
We believed the work we’d receive would honour mothering in its context, content, and subtext, and in the kind of conversations it would provoke off the page, whether that work was visual or written. As an example, we can look to the painting, “Date Night,” by Kyle Nylund to see the revelation of ‘other’ in the gorgeous figure over which a blood-like colour drips. Or to the short story, “Marsupiak,” by E.D. Morin, to understand pregnancy through her Geo character and his prosthetic womb. Both the painting and the story illuminate how a person is changed emotionally, psychologically and physically by mothering. Each piece offers a very unique presentation of what mothering can look like, and each has ignited very interesting conversations about “becoming something unexpected and entirely outside ourselves” (xiii). That these and other works in the book are provocative did not surprise us as editors. Instead, they confirmed and supported the kind of conversation we wanted (M)othering to inspire!
SB: There are many unexpected claims about (M)othering made through the various poems, essays, and stories cradled within this book. Can you share some of the biggest surprises you encountered while putting this anthology together? Were there any important claims about becoming a mother that you feel were left out of this anthology for one reason or another?
Heidi Grogan: First, I love how you describe the (M)othering contributions as being cradled. Our contributors showed up with wisdom born of incredible experience, whether raw or in a state of awe.
The stories shared in our anthology are ones that suggest truths which are oh-so-much-more than traditional. Our contributors attest to the fact that mothering happens under the title of teacher, aunt, mentor, foster-mother, friend. That a child looking after the emotional needs of a parent who struggles with mental illness is mothering. And when Sheri-D Wilson’s opening poem asks questions of the earth, our tired mother listens, answers, and does what she has since the beginning of time: she mothers all of us.
We were surprised by the weighting of submissions by subject. There were proportionally more stories about mothering elderly parents, and about the early stages of pregnancy, than about other topics. We wanted to publish everything, and at the same time, cover as much ground as possible.
As for missing truths, those were in the work we didn’t receive. Stories about mothering and domestic violence, or mothering a child conceived in rape. Abortion. Immigration. Refugee mothers. Mothering from men’s perspectives.
AS: Because of this, after the call for submissions ended, we offered space for more stories. We invited folks to submit to what we called, ‘Monday Missives’, on Facebook. They did, and it was there that we had the honour of sharing Kathy King’s poetry about her missing and murdered indigenous daughter, Cara —writing born of Cara’s disappearance in 1997.
After the book was out, we also received a story from a man about the trauma and abuse he suffered at the hands of his mother when he was a small child. Many, many more stories remain untold.
We thought we might receive more stories about mothering outside the biological lens and the basic pathology of the female body. We had hoped to engage more aspects of mothering in complex social settings and to offer space to communities that are overlooked. We learned much, shared much, and hope to do so again in the future.
SB: It strikes me that you must have talked about and developed a theory concerning the sort of work you’d receive once you announced your intention to create (M)othering: an Anthology. How did the work that was submitted to you fare in comparison with your prior ideas? Was it similar or different to your concept for the anthology?
AS: We did! We began with a vision about how mothering causes us to become something unexpected and entirely outside ourselves: to be othered.
And the work we received did not disappoint in that realm! We believed that our vision would apply to all experiences of mothering. Because we understand the concept to be wide-ranging and applicable to both biological and non-biological ideologies, connections, practises, and involvements, in and with the concept of mothering.
The work we received often exceeded our expectations in its presentation of authenticity, bravery, vulnerability, and ways of being in this hugely fraught and complicated world.
SB: Every book takes a stance in the midst of the social and political concerns of its day. How do you describe the position of (M)othering: an Anthology and its area of concern in today’s world?
AS: (M)othering is very focused on and concerned with the lives of women and I think that the most politically charged concerns for us are still choice, and regulation of the female body.
Today we can’t talk about either of those things without recognizing the very real and far-reaching danger caused by the overturning of Roe vs. Wade in the U.S. Or, without considering gender and the obstacles to gender assignment, whether that choice takes folks solely to female identification or in another direction.
(M)othering will always have a political feel because its writers and artists stand in the truth of their own choices, their own (sometimes gendered) truths, and share their experiences without fear, regardless of what those are. I believe that having the courage to do so is a direct result of the space made for us by those who have fought in the past for our rights, and by those who continue that fight today.
As a result, this book will always seem to take a stand in one way or another, because on its pages, people speak from a place of self-agency. And the right to do so will forever remain challenged.
SB: In terms of audience for the anthology, there is a group who are naturally drawn to reading this book, and others that perhaps you wish would read this book. Are those two groups different? Why do you think the last group should read it?
HG: People who identify with the biologically grounded experience of mothering might naturally take it off the shelf. But we also want those folks who have traditional notions about mothering to read the book and be challenged by it. Challenged, for example, by the work of Sanita Fejzic, who writes of mothering with her wife.
And there is another group we hope will read this book: people sometimes not recognized as being a mother, or as having mothered. They are people parenting their parents. Queer mothers. Foster mothers. People struggling with mental health challenges. Women who’ve lost children in miscarriage. Birth mothers. People who have lost those they’ve mothered to addiction. Their stories are shared in (M)othering. Anne and I want that group to know they are seen, respected, and understood, alongside those who have stood alone before a rack of Mother’s Day cards.
SB: Is this a book that seemed to lay itself out on the page quickly, almost as if it were channeled, or did you put a lot of effort into developing its structure? What was the developmental process for it? Please elaborate.
HG: This book definitely seemed to know how it wanted to be structured! Initially, Anne and I tried to place poetry first, then prose, art then essays. We tried to group childbirth, loss, and gratitude in distinct sections. But the book insisted on something else.
So we laid out the submissions on Anne’s kitchen table and at times across the floor. We imagined women around a table, sharing their experiences, being quiet and sad or laughing and interrupting each other—sharing how they relate. We also imagined the book as a conversation occurring during a family gathering where politics and religion dial up the intensity, making the exchange provocative or uncomfortable, even happy!
This book did not want to be a linear push to affect perspective. It was not about delineating topics and genre to serve a didactic purpose. Truth and story don’t work like that.
SB: Books are often turned into television shows, movies, or radio scripts. They are also frequently translated into other languages. What would you say is the key point about (M)othering: an Anthology that should not be lost if it was converted to another medium or translated into another language?
AS: Love! Pure and simply, every piece in (M)othering is about, or connected thematically in some way, to the idea of love. And love is perpetually featured in all languages.
The New York based stories in the Modern Love series on Netflix is a great example of what I envision for the adaptation of (M)othering: stories that speak to particular experiences of love! We’d include, “Bloodline at the Water Cooler” (Kim Mannix), “Bigfoot Therapy” (Barb Howard), and “The Unfathomable Attraction of the Man Who Wants a Mother” (Aritha van Herk). These would make a wonderful, single, binge worthy season! (M)OTHER LOVE just needs a producer!
SB: If your book were to be chosen for the list in a graduate course, what discipline would it fit in: history, politics, social change, philosophy? Or would it be used to describe a particular taste in writing, a genre, a literary style or ___?
HG: (M)othering is a fit for all the disciplines you name, and I’d add sociology to the list. I’d love students to read Jane Cawthorne’s, “Talbot Crescent,” and Rona Altrows’, “What is a baby?” To explore Kathleen Wall’s “abecedarious,” Vivian Hansen’s “Toward Hygge,” and Joan Crate’s “Song of the Seven Eves.” To read Kari Strutt’s “Hospital Corners and Tuesdays,” to understand her story as the kind the #metoo movement empowers.
SB: How did you describe (M)othering: an Anthology to a potential publisher before you began work on it? Or did you complete the book before you began approaching publishers?
AS: We edited, curated, and essentially completed (M)othering before sending the book to Inanna Publications. I had loosely described it in conversations with Editor-In Chief, Luciana Ricciutelli before we sent the manuscript to her in November 2019. She was very interested. Lu read our cover letter pitch, and after she and others at Inanna had evaluated the manuscript, she replied in February 2020. The subject line of her email was “Yes, yes, yes!”
SB: What social context or movement was the inspiration for you to work on this book?
HG: We are concerned with people who mother, especially from the margins. There are women for whom this important part of their identity is not acknowledged because their children are not part of their everyday lives.
A big part of my vocation has been working with women leaving the sex trade. Many lived their childhood in foster care because their mothers were struggling. I learned about ‘othering’ from generous women who grieved for their own children who were not with them.
They are mothers. And as an adoptive mother, I believe birth mothers know what it is to be a mother.
SB: You’ve both revealed some of the (un)expected tales within this anthology. I’m sure your current readers, and perhaps a drove of new readers, all look forward to the second anthology. It really does sound like there is more to be said about (M)othering. Thank you so much for giving your time to this interview.
Sharon Berg writes poetry, fiction, nonfiction, book reviews, and articles. She has published poems in periodicals across the world, as well as several books of poetry, chapbooks, and short fiction collections.