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“Here in this spring room the outside world seems far away.” That was the opening line, the only one I remember, of a speech I gave on a May day in 1943 at my college graduation ceremony. I start with that line for several reasons: because it is touching base for me, as that was the last time I was asked to speak in public; because it symbolically puts me in touch with the person I was then, when the time for making adult choices had come; and because those choices led me to this moment. We all live in an outside world, though it may seem further away for some of us.
I shall begin with my very personal view of the social and cultural influences and then look at the dyad I am a part of now. Before proceeding, I want to say that I am aware of many personal feelings that affected what I did and what I became. Though I have not always been in charge of my life, I believe I am responsible for myself.
I was born Dr. Adler's daughter. That is how I was referred to or introduced and how I thought of myself. Such a designation brought feelings of pride, of privilege, and of responsibility. I felt the need to earn and re-earn my good fortune. While I knew that I could never disgrace him, I felt concern that I might disappoint him. He was a man to admire. I was born at home. My mother was young and healthy, and there was no serious risk. But my father was affiliated with two hospitals, and the choice of one over the other would have been Solomonic. I remember learning about this when my younger brother, eight years my junior, was born at home. Why, I asked, were my father's patients sent to the hospital to have their babies, when my mother stayed home?
Other Voices presents contributions from persons other than mental health professionals, whose interests are compatible with the purposes of The American Journal of Psychoanalysis.