Vummen/Vimmen (Pl)/Vummanhood

In 7th grade I wrote a "paper" for a music class entitled "The Singing Swedes". In this paper I proclaim that after "spending FOUR whole hours at the Library", I had become a bona fide scholar and critic of operatic voice and could determine down to the zillionth of a decimal point (i.e.- a 4.999999) that the Swedes were much better at singing than the rest of the world. I got an "A" on it, certainly only because it was original and full of gall, not because it was well researched or held a speck of truth. I believed I had proclaimed the Truth, but secretly knew that the FOUR WHOLE HOURS I had spent at the library were simply a scholarly facade. (I don't think I actually found "singing Swedes" in the card catalog). I created a cover illustration of singing yellow-haired people and attached a cassette tape I had made from my Dad's LP's in hopes that these additions would make everything look official and thereby relieve me of any burden of proof of my claim.

Thirty years later this paper is a hilarious read and I still turn red with embarrassment if someone gets hold of it. It's an example of everything you shouldn't do for a research paper. I fear I may not have evolved beyond that point and that I may be on the verge of writing yet another "Singing Swedes". I am not a scholarly person and am in awe of well-read academic types who spend 4 hours and more at libraries. I envy their depth and oozing of their knowledge of history, politics, economics, ideas, etc. They are the people who write. And in that respect I have no business embarking on a Writing Project. But for the time being I will set all those concerns aside. I will become a 7th grader and unabashedly put forth some ideas that spring from sources other than scholarly research. I shall write about "Vummunhood" and being a "Vummun".

Six years ago I pushed out my first son. Along with motherhood I acquired a consuming preoccupation with trying to explain what it meant, where all my time and energy were suddenly going, and the overwhelming sense of purpose it had. The mess of thoughts consuming me needed a concept beyond motherhood, beyond homemaker and feminist. I wanted something that held onto the great female tradition, but I needed to update it, and I didn’t want it to be exclusively female. I wanted to give this motherhood thing a job description so I might have a way of comparing it to other means of human production (i.e.- jobs in the industrialized realm). Two more sons later, for reasons of sheer personal necessity, I am setting out to define "Vummunhood" --- which, by the way, may be as daunting as, for example: taking care of two busy preschoolers in diapers, while being totally sleep-deprived, sporting a 102 degree fever and recovering from a vaginal delivery of a 9 pound-plus baby who was nursing and throwing up all over me. But alas, I must.

My dad has been throwing around the vummun concept for quite some time. He holds great respect for "vimmen". He has been passionately in love with a Vummun, my mother, for over 40 years. Dad even makes a sport of spotting "vimmen" and has his own endearing humor to go along with it. In church on Easter morning as we all sit listening, lined up in the pew, he leans over and silently mouths out "Vimmen, vhy do you veep?" We all snicker. Dad’s endearing humor set aside (no I won’t try to explain it), I comprehend his sincere reverence and deep appreciation for vimmen.

I was in the thick of thinking about my dad’s vummun references and thought I’d send him a quick e-mail to ask where he got the idea. His e-mail response:

"Dear Mux, Interesting you should pose the question about my "vummun" concept. I’m not sure how it should be spelled but your phonetic spelling is as good as any. I developed the concept based on my experience with an old German neighbor of my grandparents DeRemee on East 3^rd Street. He was born in Germany, as was his wife, who was a strong imposing woman. He always referred to his wife as "vummun" which I understood to be a term of great respect… She was no woman libber for sure, but, also for sure, she was the navigator for the entire family in the sea of life. The pronunciation is obviously German. Herr Schultz also used literal translations of German terms in English, such as sleeping room (Schlafzimmer) where he and his Vummun slept. It’s funny to me at least because of the sound but also for the image it conjures. Gotta Go, Dad."

I had imagined Dad’s vummun to be large-framed, maybe 50 or so, with practical hair, a print dress, support hose and oxford shoes. She looked very much in charge of the home front, a stereotypical Haus Frau. But it wasn’t so much her appearance that snared me, rather it was that I knew what she did, I knew how she spent her time and energy. It was her function, not her form. I have seen so many real life versions of Vimmen. They’re everywhere; they’re of all ages, sizes, races, and means. I know what they do and that they sport a range of fashions. I am a Vummun. In fact, the survival of my three very young sons requires that I be one. In most cases motherhood brings on a state of Vummunhood, but Vummunhood isn’t the exclusive property of mothers. Vummunhood is the state of 1) knowing of what it takes to protect and nurture life coupled with 2) an active devotion to that said purpose. It’s a complex, messy occupation loaded with work.

Something else about Herr Schultz’s Vummun (a vummun of the previous century, circa 1940) that snares me is her self-respect and her power. Contemporary society seems to make being a Vummun and having self-respect somewhat of an oxymoron. The nature of Vummunhood being self-sacrificial, it’s hard for it to do a smooth waltz with these Me and More Times.

But valtz ve must. And on that note, I ask you, are you a Vummun? Do you know one? Undoubtedly, you have known at least one and she/he may, or may not, have been your mother. "Vummunhood" invites your stories. My hope is that your stories will help me in my task of defining and describing Vummunhood in its multitude of forms, and that in giving it a good description we might elevate its incredible purpose. So write.

Yes, do! Send your musings on vummanhood to PonH, Department, P.O. Box 354, St. Peter, MN 56082. Attach them to your subscription!!!