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The persona usually emerges during the birth of a woman’s first child. It’s been described many ways: the motherly instinct, a woman who is unapologetic for her choices when it comes to her children. The Urban Dictionary’s definition is: “A mom who can be cuddly and lovable but also has a ferocious side when it’s necessary to protect her cubs.
But today's popular term for this kind of mom is “Mama Bear.”
This breed comes in all sizes, from a petite five-feet-tall, weighing in at less than 100 pounds, all the way up to six-feet-plus and more than 200 lbs.
It’s not a good idea to cross a Mama Bear and it’s taking your life in your hands if you mess with her cubs. Few Mama Bears (of the human kind) have lethal claws and long, sharp incisors, but even the smallest of Mama Bears (human again) can cause a predator to back off, using their razor-sharp tongues and their fearless, biting words.
This breed of Mama has boundaries, which suggest you stay in your lane. These boundaries are, generally, non-negotiable and this Mama sets them because she can. Mama Bears prefer to parent according to what they know, intimately, about their cub or cub. Much of this parenting is driven by instinct.
Here’s the thing: “Mama Bears are biologically driven to protect, nurture, care for and motivate their cubs to succeed,” according to research done by Dr. Rebecca M. Fischer at the University of Richmond in her study of the psychological mechanisms of motherhood.
Unfortunately, our patriarchal society makes little room for this breed of bears. If a Mama Bear decides on a parenting style for her child that others don’t agree with, it’s often intimidating. They’ll call her names -- like Mama Bear (or worse) -- and often these disagreements serve as an ending point to otherwise fun and enjoyable play-dates.
My Mama Bear emerged before I was 25. Because their father was a remedial graduate student, my two sons grew up with a working mother. My eldest was, by place in the family, the lab rat in this grand experiment (and I say “experiment” because I had never witnessed the intricacies of a working mother rearing a child). I had no role model, no mentors. My parenting style was a collaboration between what I read in “Dr. Spock” and my native instinct.
When my employer transferred me from one division to another, I sought a day care facility for my son only blocks from my office. The one I found, run by Catholic nuns, was in an old house with a steep flight of stairs leading to the second floor. My four-year-old cub had little experience with stairs, and while the center’s curriculum was outstanding, the stairs caused more than a little anxiety.
I shared my misgivings about the stairs with the directress, who solemnly promised there would be someone holding my son’s hand on every stair encounter…and she kept her promise.
Both boys went to a parochial elementary school, and to my delight, when my youngest son was in sixth grade, he became a voracious reader.
His favorite books were a series of spy novels involving a tough guy -- Mack Bolen. During free reading periods, he would dig a Mack Bolen out of his backpack and read. He also took extras, and before the first month of sixth grade had passed, all the boys in the class were reading Mack Bolen books -- actually reading for pleasure…UNTIL a little tattletale girl told the teacher the books contained “bad words” like “hell” and “damn.” That was the extent.
At that point, the teacher banned Mack Bolen books from the classroom. My son was sad and disgusted, but Mama Bear was furious.
The next day, I asked for a meeting with the teacher and the principal. I was armed with studies about young adult readers and several of the Bolen books. The teacher, of course, defended her actions, but my case -- finding books appealing to pubescent boys and motivating them to read -- was stronger. After thumbing through the books, the principal said the books posed no threat of spiritual harm or promoting deviant behavior, thereby blessing the books for the boys to read during free reading.
Compared to this past week, the above incident involving a Mama Bear is minor -- even trivial. But, in Uvalde, there was a whole sloth of Mama Bears, trying to do what Mama Bears do best -- protect their cubs. Some of these mamas at Robb Elementary, were threatened with jail time, handcuffed and held back by law enforcement.
All those mamas wanted was for law enforcement to save their cubs from a shooter with an assault weapon…Mama Bears don’t need special equipment and won’t wait around for Special Troops to go ahead of them. Mama Bears are fearless
But there was one Mama Bear, upon hearing of an active shooter at her child’s school, drove 40 miles from her workplace. She was met with resistance from law enforcement and handcuffed. After being released by a friend on the local police force, this determined mom ran to the back of the school, and, in true Mama Bear fashion, jumped a fence, made her way into the school, found her two kids in their classrooms and fled with them to safety.
That mom risked her life to pull her kids out of harm’s way. That’s what Mama Bears will instinctively do. Nothing is too much to give up, including your own life, when it comes to protecting and nurturing your cubs.
Some folks call protective moms “Mama Bears” as a hateful, backhanded compliment. I call Mama Bears society’s heroes.
