going to go out on a limb here and claim expert status on identifying and defining soccer moms. my qualifications: grew up in california suburbs. in soccer family (mom and dad both coaches). have one child myself. am 37 years old. true, i don't drink coffee. and i live in san francisco, where, in tiny pockets, soccer moms do rear their ugly (over-highlighted) heads, but are promptly ridiculed until they crawl back into their climate-controlled SUVs and circle the city, endlessly looking for parking that can accommodate their concorde-size vehicles.
soccer moms are frightened people. threatened people. they sometimes seem smug and heedless, but everything they do is governed by feelings of inadequacy. ever read the malcolm gladwell story in the new yorker that reported that the single biggest psychographics assocated with SUV drivers were (1) being a bad driver; and (2) lack of confidence about the state of your marriage? hello, soccer mom. lacking individual ambition, they channel all their fervor into their kids' lives and accomplishments, resulting, later, in many years of therapy for said offspring, who end up deranged and oppressed by the SM's maniacal child obsession. soccer moms are unhappy people, and often conflicted about the traditional (read: regressive) gender roles they have decided to embrace. they are in too much denial to admit that they, like the rest of us, just didn't want to work outside the home anymore, so they tried to turn childrearing into a career. (not saying it isn't legitimate work, but it would be nice to get an honest explanation of the original motivation.) they are threatened by women with careers, younger women and women who struggle to balance their jobs and their kids' needs and don't want to subjugate their own needs every day of their lives (and thus become bitter, like the SMs). if you resist the trappings of soccer momdom yourself, they are threatened by you. ("how can your family get by with one car? what? it's a 9 year old mazda sedan? does it even have cup holders? or tethers? or tethered cup holders?")
not even getting into the right-wing, censorship-promoting, christian reactionary part of it all, SMs are downright dangerous for the culture. they oppose critical thought on principle. man, isn't that bad enough?
soccer moms are frightened people. threatened people. they sometimes seem smug and heedless, but everything they do is governed by feelings of inadequacy. ever read the malcolm gladwell story in the new yorker that reported that the single biggest psychographics assocated with SUV drivers were (1) being a bad driver; and (2) lack of confidence about the state of your marriage? hello, soccer mom. lacking individual ambition, they channel all their fervor into their kids' lives and accomplishments, resulting, later, in many years of therapy for said offspring, who end up deranged and oppressed by the SM's maniacal child obsession. soccer moms are unhappy people, and often conflicted about the traditional (read: regressive) gender roles they have decided to embrace. they are in too much denial to admit that they, like the rest of us, just didn't want to work outside the home anymore, so they tried to turn childrearing into a career. (not saying it isn't legitimate work, but it would be nice to get an honest explanation of the original motivation.) they are threatened by women with careers, younger women and women who struggle to balance their jobs and their kids' needs and don't want to subjugate their own needs every day of their lives (and thus become bitter, like the SMs). if you resist the trappings of soccer momdom yourself, they are threatened by you. ("how can your family get by with one car? what? it's a 9 year old mazda sedan? does it even have cup holders? or tethers? or tethered cup holders?")
not even getting into the right-wing, censorship-promoting, christian reactionary part of it all, SMs are downright dangerous for the culture. they oppose critical thought on principle. man, isn't that bad enough?
The soccer mom slammed the door of her Suburban, grabbed her no-fat mint frappacino and the twins, stuffed her Coach purse and offspring in the Bugaboo and charged into Target.
by grableca March 11, 2006