Introduced By Amber Hall

Our theme this month is still ‘Misunderstandings’, and there’s plenty more to explore. With Mother’s Day in the UK happening at the end of the month, I’ve been thinking about misunderstandings across the generations; what we might call ‘generational divides.’

I think it’s hard not to see similarities between family members, whether a family is biological or built. When we spend extended periods of time with one another, quirks are bound to rub off. But equally, there are things that make each generation unique. We might feel misunderstood at times, even by those closest to us. Ultimately, connection is built on safety, and it’s important that we give one another the space to speak up and be heard.

The following pieces explore what family – in particular, motherhood – means, and how differences can be felt across the generations.

First, we have a poem by Alex Murdock, who pays homage to motherhood and the stories we carry within our families.

Dear Mama

In the dark she grows,
in the Sun she glows,
the lineage runs so deep that only god knows,
through the grapevine in the bosom of time the bloodline echoes,
intuitive to the moments that put a smile on her face,
they come and go like the holiest of grace,
a superstar in her own right like Diana Ross or Beverley Knight,
stick a pin,
let that sink in.

Mama never knew when her history may be privy to take centre stage,
Thus, she sullied her remnants of lineage in time through culture on a hidden page,
the griot of her time like the chronological librarian,
ever telling stories of the rebellious contrarians,
that would pave the way with a smile despite the deadly debt to pay like Boukman,
knowledge is the key they say,
mama gets to painting with words every day,
the dream for her sons and daughters to become innovators,
telling stories of crippling historical moments.

“Son the endurance of my pain was mandatory,
because it matters the way you see me”

An advocate for the next generation to grow,
reflection in her eyes of a callous world and ever so cold,
yet she smiles when the grass grows,
latching on to the very fibres of hope,
even in the churning of the teeth while her soul burns with sorrow,
melancholic drainage from the quarters that hang from the stories of songs told,
heinous are the moments though through the carnage she had faith her people would endure.

I would whisper to the mirror, as I spoke when I was small trying to be grown;
”woman, do you not know you are beautiful”

Her hair carries the weight of a thousand worlds,
mouth closed because if she were to let go her voice would carry a thousand sorrows,
the earth grows cold in the untimely quakes,
watershed tears in the sake of her memories shared,
Still, I knew it was not just her way,
she became what was necessary,
to carry on for me, despite the heavy deed,
knowing one day the world will appreciate,
through the richest of life and tough times she negotiates,
telling the beauty of times between these mouth guards,
hoping that the moments of torments may never come to pass.

One day she smiled and to shine never seemed so hard,
I could see her pondering on the times passed,
the gravity did not press her to the point she felt she was about to fall,
solemn are the moments her children could grow slow,
no need to wish them prematurely tall,
despite the onset of darkness, she remained steady,
knowing one day history will remember her children,
if not her.

© Alex Murdock, 2025

Follow Alex on X: @lex_murdock and Instagram: @themadpo3t. You can also find out more about his work here: www.dien.uk.

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Next, Eithne Cullen writes about being a grandparent and its unique place in terms of humanity’s evolution.

In Good Company

As a woman of a certain age and a grandmother, too, I was interested to come across a lecture talking about menopause.

It’s a word that was seldom spoken aloud when I was younger but, thanks to some loud voices from the media, we’re hearing about it much more nowadays. Thankfully, there’ll be a lot more understanding of these changes in women’s lives and bodies; the knowledge of how it affects us growing apace.

But what of misunderstanding? Well, it’s a little-known fact that very few creatures in nature experience menopause, or the joy of grandparenthood.

Received wisdom around the natural world tells us that, when a creature is too old to have babies, it’s no longer needed. This links to the survival of the fittest and the drive to keep the line moving along. But wait: some species (and thankfully we’re among them) get to be grandparents, too.

So, menopause allows females to live longer and focus on helping their families, which can enhance the survival of their grandchildren. This is called the ‘grandmother effect.’ Which means we can be part of the education of our younger generations and guide them in their journey to growth. I guess it also means they can help with minding, caring, feeding, sustaining and loving their grandchildren. Which is great news to all us nannas and grandmas out there (as well as the grandads and grandpas).

Whales, elephants, chimpanzees, gorillas and giraffes get to be grandparents, too. And under the heading of whales, you’ll find killer whales, short-finned pilot whales, narwhals and beluga whales.

So, is there a misunderstanding about the roles of women as we age? Our ability to live long enough to share our experience and understanding makes us part of an elite group and puts us in some good (if rather strange) company.

© Eithne Cullen, 2025 

Connect with Eithne on X: @eithne_cullen and Instagram: @eithnecullen57.

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Now, Jilly Henderson-Long writes about stepmums by reflecting on her own life and the relationships in it. She reminds us of the different ways families are made and sustained.

A Celebration Of Stepmums

When my youngest stepdaughter disagreed with something I said to her one day, she promptly kicked me on the shin. She was eight or so at the time. But it still hurt. Many years later, when she herself became a stepmum, she confided in me she couldn’t remember her life before I came on the scene. How lucky am I?

I met both my girls when the youngest was seven and the eldest ten. I knew their dad through work. All three were still suffering after the girls’ mum had left a couple of years before and, as I was also a child from a broken marriage, I was very cautious. I didn’t want to cause them further hurt, so kept my distance to begin with. When their dad and I became an item a few months later, I was invited to tea by his parents and the children for formal introductions. It’s a day I’ll never forget. Meeting his children terrified me more than meeting his parents!

Luckily for me, we all took to each other at once and, although the path of stepmother-hood has not always been easy, I couldn’t love those girls more if I tried. I think the secret lies in the fact that, on that first formal meeting, I took both aside and said, “I hope we can be friends. I will never try to replace your mum.”

Stepmothers have had a bad press throughout history. As children we’re fed stories and films about ‘wicked stepmothers.’ A few minutes into Snow White, Hansel And Gretel and Cinderella are all it takes to see them presented as nasty, greedy, jealous women, who often favour their own offspring over their second husband’s. I wonder why this is.

Of course, stepfathers have as bad a press: think of Mr Murdstone in Dickens’ David Copperfield. But wicked stepmothers are much more common, which I think is unfair. Surely it’s time to redress the balance!

On reflection, I can’t be the only lucky one. I never asked the girls to call me ‘Mum’, nor would I have expected it. But their children call me Granny, which I love. I still helped my stepdaughters with their homework, picked them up from school, wiped away tears and shed one or two myself as they got married, divorced and married again. I washed their clothes, cooked them meals and played endless games of Cluedo and Monopoly with them. I was there for them as they have always been for me, and I love that.

So, as Mother’s Day approaches, I think we should also celebrate stepmums. It’s not always easy to take on another woman’s children. I’ve been a part of my stepdaughters’ lives for over 40 years now and feel I’ve been lucky. And, if that happy medium can be met, the rewards are great. Happy Mother’s – and Stepmother’s – Day!

© Jilly Henderson-Long, 2025

Connect on Linked In: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jhendersonlong-8254a796

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Finally, a piece by Tavinder New, highlighting the many ways we can mother and be mothered.

Just Because

Just because I did not give birth, labour, or have a pregnancy,
It does not mean I am not a mother,
Every day I mother, nurture, teach, and mentor.
Every day I provide, strive, advise, and counsel,
Happy Mother’s Day to me and to all those women who deserve it,
They don’t get a card, a thank you, or recognition.
They don’t get flowers or chocolates from society.
Yet they contribute every day to a child’s life,
by being there as an auntie, teacher, mentor, tutor, or just there,
Every day giving to the world in a way that isn’t seen or heard,
Every day giving towards a child’s future makes a groundbreaking change.
Just because I didn’t give birth, labour, or have a pregnancy,
It does not mean I am not a mother to acknowledge,
So, I thank all those in society who are invisible in this category.

© Tavinder New, 2025

Follow Tavinder on Bluesky: @newtavinder.bsky.social.

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Issue 23 is available to read online here, you can also find it in libraries and other outlets. Read previous editions of our magazines here. 

You can hear great new ideas, creative work and writing tips on Write On! Audio. Find us on all major podcast platforms, including Apple and Google Podcasts and Spotify. Type Pen to Print into your browser and look for our logo, or find us on Podcasters.Spotify.com.

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