I doubted for a long time whether I should write something about my mother. Because my mother passed away last month and that’s why I wasn’t in the newspaper for a few weeks. But almost immediately I thought: who is waiting for that?
On the other hand: if anyone knew everything about career development, tips for work and money – what this column is about – it was my mother. In fact, my mother determined my career. She was the helm of my boat, if I would say so dramatically.
And so I thought: let me write something about that. About what I’ve learned from her when it comes to work. What we can learn from her generation of women – my mother turned 81. How mothers like mine have been a historical force in the labor market, and how they have shaped the course of their children.
Because my mother was my role model. One of the first female police officers in the Netherlands, hello, how great is that to have as an example as a little girl.
There’s a photo from her police training days where she stands pointing her service pistol, stylishly dressed in a petticoat – students didn’t get a uniform until they graduated – I’d almost say: badass† When I looked at it, I was always proud of her.
Because that photo was not only tough, but also a nice contrast with her origin: a ‘simple’ working-class girl from the Groningen peat colonies who was not allowed to continue studying by her parents because they thought it was too elitist.
And so she had to start working at a boring office at the age of 16 (!) after high school (mavo). How she managed to end up at the police academy in Hilversum is still a mystery to me. Just imagine how much headwinds she’s had to overcome—not just her parents’, but the entire society in which career women barely had room at the time.
I have always found it unbearable that she was not allowed to study and had to work as a child. But the biggest injustice I thought was that she was fired from the police when she got married! That’s how it was then, weird. Imagine that you have so many plans for your life and that some retarded guy in The Hague puts a line through them.
She taught me that I should be able to take care of myself. That as a woman you can pay for your own house, your own groceries, your own car. That you can live your own life – of course that shaped me.
For example, I still cannot fully understand that so many Dutch women are financially dependent on their husbands if they could also earn their own living. My mother found that difficult too. She set the bar high.
For example, she had to take me to music lessons and to gymnasium, but also to university – HBO was out of the question – because “if you can do it, you should try to achieve the highest possible level”. Persevere, do your best and only call in sick if you have a fever – as a teenager, as a student and as an ‘adult’ I sometimes found that quite difficult.
My study economics in Groningen, which it eventually became, was also her idea, both the city and the study. I thought it sounded quite difficult myself, economics, and quite far from home, Groningen, but when I walked around with her to get to know it, we clicked immediately – not only with the faculty but also with the ‘big’ city in the the wide open ‘omelaand’ where she herself came from – isn’t it fantastic when you have a mother who helps you on your way like that?
She herself has always worked, as soon as the children went to school, as society was then allowed to do.
And she had nice jobs! For example at a printing company, at an engineering firm, at the hts in Arnhem, where she was an enthusiastic and dedicated internship coordinator.
Not that she denied her down-to-earth Groningen heritage. She hated braggarts, braggarts and bigots. Her motto was: feel free to reach for the stars, but always keep both feet on the ground – no hot air – a motto on which I would base all my later columns.
I learned so much from her.
I wish I had written a lot more about her. About Mayor Marcouch’s loving kneeling when he pinned her ribbon on. About her unstoppable zest for life, even when she was no longer able to walk due to her multiple sclerosis disease – about the NRC Night, where she was always very proud to sit at the front. I thought she was the nicest woman in the world.
Now, a month after her death, I feel like there’s a hole in me. As if I’m floating out of control at sea. And so I just keep thinking about her, like I always have.
When I get up, when I walk on the city wall of Utrecht, when I, like the other day, stand in front of a full house and I succeed and I think: I am doing this and she would have loved that.
That’s how she’ll stay with me. The little light she was, that indestructible power that now continues in me. I’m going to miss you, Mom.
I will never forget you.
How was your week? Tips for Japke-d. Bouma via @Japked on Twitter.
These were the Pearls on Twitter this week
And this morning, finally, face to face, the last session with stakeholders to experience dilemmas together and to discuss difficult choices and to innovate together. I love all that positive energy on the way to a new strategy. pic.twitter.com/TkPBjY6bc9
— Erik Gerritsen (@egerrit) Apr 6, 2022
New hobby at work: People make ‘one-pagers’ to explain/record things. Usually they are 3 or 4 pages long… @Japked
— Rolf Bakker (@rolfbakker) Apr 7, 2022
By the way, I’m an alcoholic coach.
So I’m going to have a good time in my crate this weekend.
— Jasper Schilder (@jasperschilder) Apr 22, 2022
If I got a medal for every meeting that could have been an email ??♂️ pic.twitter.com/ssbEK1FBT4
— Chagenijn (@ChageNijn) Apr 26, 2022
That’s why working in the office! @Fontys @Japked #Eindhoven pic.twitter.com/tq2gFzs8mz
— Bart van de Weijer (@bweijer) May 10, 2022
A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper of 11 May 2022