Bolivia’s mom and kid friendly new law

La Razón reports that all working women with nursing infants up to six months of age have the right to bring their babies to work or school with them, nurse them in a comfortable room under “condiciones óptimas,” and to continue their work/study with their infants for this period of time. The motivation behind the law is to encourage breastfeeding and fight infant malnutrition. (Of course, as Clare pointed out, “working women” here tends to mean those who work in occupations in the Western mold – offices, lecture halls, clinics, etc.)

But this law goes much further than simply promoting infant health through breastfeeding. It makes a statement that the role and place of women, mothers, and children in Bolivian society is everywhere and anywhere. Babies this age can integrate quite unobtrusively into many settings – including offices and classrooms. In the U.S. there is still a strong taboo about breastfeeding in public (mom forums even have an acronym for this – NIP, for nursing in public – and there are frequent discussions regarding being made to feel uncomfortable while nursing, not being able to nurse, rude comments received, etc) and an even stronger one against integrating children into “professional” work environments such as offices or lecture halls.

In Bolivia, these taboos certainly exist for many women, who tend to be indigenous migrants to the city, mestizas, or middle-class professionals. This law goes a long way to making a statement on gender equality and the rights of children. Empowering women to work with their children, instead of struggling to find the elusive balance between childcare, work demands, providing for one’s family, and so on, recognizes that children are an important part of society and should not be hidden in private spaces. They and their mothers belong everywhere and should be respected as productive members of society (which here includes the women’s work of bearing, feeding, and raising children). The law also addresses the perception (prevalent in the U.S. as well as parts of Bolivia) that offices, waiting rooms, and lecture halls are (often) coded as “male” and “public” spaces, such that women need to “act professional” (e.g. like men) in order to fit in. Bringing nursing infants and their mothers into these spaces forces such attitudes (however subtly) to shift. Furthermore, the law is predicated on the assumption that women can and should be bothmothers and professionals of various kinds (professors, commercial vendors, shopkeepers, students, etc) simultaneously. One does not preclude the other and the relationship between these roles does not have to be so fraught with anxiety.

Who knows how effective legislation will be in promoting breastfeeding and how many women will feel comfortable to bring their children into their specific work environment. But it is a fantastic start. I certainly wish that I could have avoided the dreaded breastpump for six months and worked with my son in a carrier or napping next to me in an office.

Let’s hope that the U.S. follows Bolivia’s lead on this one.

Here’s to a happy and healthy Mother’s Day for everyone.

8 Responses

  1. Well, Kate knows (since she and I are partners in crime in terms of public breastfeeding here in the U.S.) that I support breastfeeding laws, support for new parents, etc. But I do want to follow up on this after Kate and my Twitter conversation (which she referenced here). And I hope this isn’t too personal for y’all.

    Law or no law, Bolivia was incredibly open about breastfeeding among rural populations and the indigenous urban poor. Women breastfed anywhere — public transport, in the markets, *anywhere.* In fact, women who let their child cry for too long would be pressured to breastfeed to keep it quiet. There were no dirty looks and no shame.

    For me, it was amazing, and was a huge inspiration on how I thought about the role of being a mother.

    I came back to the US and had my son shortly thereafter. I never had any real problem breastfeeding here, but I was surprised at assumption by others that I would be uncomfortable. People were constantly trying to throw blankets over my son’s head, which drove him nuts and usually only served to draw more attention to what we were doing. I occasionally was shot dirty looks, which I found amusing. I’m pretty sure most people would rather I breastfeed on a plane than let my boy howl, so I chalked that sort of thing up to individual ignorance. (And keep in mind, I tried to be discrete as I could. I am not an in-your-face lactator, but nor was I going to hide myself in a bathroom. Not after seeing how it should be done!)

    Now as for this law — on paper it sounds great. And that’s how laws start, on paper. What remains to be seen is enforcement. How many women are actually going to go to court for rights like these?

    Then again, in Bolivia, how many will have to?

    Now, as Kate points out, this law is directed at middle-class, urban, professional spaces. And I will admit that the one place where I never breastfed was the University of Chicago, my own professional space. I agree there is much to be done in terms of making professional spaces more comfortable for women with small children. But much of that comfort comes not just from law (no one would have stopped me from breastfeeding in Haskell, I’m sure) but from shared understandings about what kind of spaces they are. Breastfeed on a plane? Sure! on the Mezz? No way!

    In short, I think this is a fascinating issue, and one to watch in the Bolivian context. The class distinctions alone make it interesting.

  2. Hi Clare –

    I totally agree re. breastfeeding here and in Bolivia. I breastfed everywhere, but I was acutely aware of stares/dirty looks/etc. I did have a few comments about “don’t you want more privacy” and so on, but the blanket-over-the-head never worked for Javi. He wanted to see me and look around, so he’d rip it off immediately.

    But I think this is a law that goes *beyond* a simple breastfeeding law. Women are allowed to go to work with their children for six months, caring for them in their offices, clinics, and so forth while they work. Sure, every woman should have paid maternity leave for six months etc etc. But I would have gone nuts if I had six months of dedicated maternity leave. I wanted to be out of the house a bit and doing/thinking of other things while I took care of my kid.

    That’s what I find so inspiring about this law and so important in terms of making a statement about the importance of integrating women and children into all aspects of society. I would have loved to bring Javi with me – and most days there would have been no conflict. He was happy in his sling or his carrier, as long as he was close to me (or Miguel) and when he was a little older, he enjoyed lying on a blanket and playing with toys, and he got better at napping. I wouldn’t have had to pump, which was more time consuming for me than nursing since he was an efficient little chanchito, and he would have been able to stay closer to me during the day.

    This law – which may or may not impact anything in practice but makes an important statement – quite powerfully asserts that women have a right to inhabit public/male/”white” spaces as mothers AND professionals/workers/etc in whatever capacity. And children have a right to be with their mothers during early infancy, regardless of what their moms do or where they work. That’s amazing, and I hope at least some women are able to benefit from it.

  3. Hey Kate, I couldn’t agree more! Let’s hope it works.

  4. Ah, but don’t forget. Bolivia is not the US. What the law says, and what the state enforces/protects are often not at all the same thing. Bolivia’s 1994 (and 2004) constitutions were models of liberal pluralism. Lots of rights for everyone! Too bad they were often not worth the paper they were printed on.

    I’ve often wondered if a new kind of constitutional category is needed in the typology of constitutions: “aspirational” constitutionalism.

  5. Hey Miguel, that was exactly what I was getting at. If we only looked at written laws, we’d think the world was perfect. I often tell my students, if there’s a law against it, that means someone is doing it — and the next questions are who and why. :-)

    So, given that in general Bolivia seems to be far more accepting of public breastfeeding than most of the US — who exactly is this law aimed at? Clearly it’s aimed more at middle-class, urban, professional spaces and those who control them (i.e., Kate’s type of fieldsite) rather than rural indigenous markets or rural spaces (my type of fieldsite).

  6. P.S. I LOVE the term “aspirational constitutionalism” or maybe we could use “aspirational legislation”!

  7. A good development in Bolivia.
    I think there is a division between where is breastfeeding accepted, in more rural areas it is not even questioned but in the city spaces it is. Also it is a socio-economic and “racial” marker, that is why many middle class and peruvian urbanites were outrage with the song of Wendy Sullca praising the joys of lactation (from the point of view of the baby)
    http://www.choledadprivada.com/2008/04/02/el-limite-de-nuestro-folclor-wendy-sulca-y-la-teta-que-asusta/

  8. Hi Amazilia, welcome to the GT!

    I completely agree that breastfeeding in Bolivia is class marked, which is why — legal or not — some women may continue to avoid doing so in public spaces.

    That video has to be one of the more surreal things I’ve seen in a while. The guys in the band look like they are trying to maintain a straight face. And the interlude where the guys show sexual interest in the breast (look, men over 18 years like boobs too!) was just… well. I’ll stop there. :-)

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