Mothers, don’t let your children date liberal arts majors
My fellow comrades,
Raising a son or daughter can be a difficult, if rewarding, endeavor. Lord knows that helping your progeny along the way to adulthood can be harrowing and fraught with struggles. While you may think that your hard work is complete once your daughter or son enters college, their life in higher education remains rife with danger. From personal safety to academics, you all have been well-educated regarding the perils that collegiate life poses for your little loved ones. But there’s one menace that no book, magazine, or Ellen talk show guest will mention, and that’s precisely what I hope to elucidate you about here today.
Mothers, don’t let your sons and daughters date liberal arts majors.
Please, if you heed no other warning, do not allow your young women to fall prey to the turtleneck-laden philosophy majors lurking in the shadows of every independent coffeehouse this side of the quad. Teach your son to watch out for the bearded English major ripping that bong in the corner—he has nothing to give your boy but pain and anguish and student loan debt and Thomas Pynchon quotations. And good heavens by all means do not let your younglings take up a gender studies major as a paramour unless you want them to be sustained on a diet of sweet nothings like the phrases “homosocial space” or “matrixial trans-subjectivity.”
Forget about the greasers and the flappers and the pre-med students — the real danger we have to educate our children to watch out for are the bad boy liberal arts majors of the world.
Mothers, only you can prevent your strapping young man of a son from shacking up with some weak-bellied sociology/French double major, or your daughter from being infatuated by a cultural anthropologist transgressing the bounds of socially imposed normativity, and the first step of proper prevention is knowing the warning signs. Has Jane started quoting Foucault every time you try and ground her on Summer Break? Strike one. Have you noticed a recent uptick in words like “interplay,” “post-structural,” and other such jargon cluttering Ralph’s lexicon? Strike two. Has your lovely little girl or boy started to reek of American Spirits and red wine? Oh no they Derrididn’t!
Mothers, you may have dabbled in History or Latin@ Studies back in the day. Or maybe your little Emily and David are liberal arts majors themselves. Don’t worry, that’s nothing to be concerned about — everybody deserves some time in college to experiment with the vast array of academic study available to them before settling into the excited field of management consulting! But studying art history and sharing a bed with somebody who wears a beret are two completely different stories.
Mothers, we love our children, and don’t want any harm brought to them. Which is why we need to protect our daughters from the seduction of a graduate student spouting French existentialist philosophy but that will drop her like Economics 210 the instant they hear the phrase “ontological pluralism.” And any mother with half a heart knows that their son deserves better than a fling with somebody who listens to Brian Eno’s solo work — and claims to enjoys it.
Mothers, it’s time we take action! Instead of standing hopelessly along the sideline as Heather “gets really into Zizek’s brand of Marxism” thanks to that cultural studies major she’s been seeing, or idly watching as your darling Brad has his heart smashed to pieces by a Classics major whose love belongs to Cicero rather than him, there’s hope yet! Just remind your child that you will always love them — much more so than they can ever be loved by someone who watches David Lynch films. And when in doubt, it never hurts to add that people who identify as neo-Trotskyite intellectuals are by and large horrid in bed.
The road ahead may be difficult and fraught with concern, but by golly my fellow mothers, we will remain vigilant and protective of our children’s well-being. I know you want what is best for your sons and daughters, and by saving them from a loving relationship with a liberal arts major today you are cordoning them off from the pain and heartbreak of having to divvy up their Magnetic Fields record collections years from now. They’ll thank you, I swear.