OP-EDS AND COMMENTARY

"My son's autism is profound, and more common than you think"  November 28 2022 Cognoscenti WBUR

“Let’s look to our siblings to bridge the economic divide.”  April 2023  Boston Globe Magazine

 "Probashi: Histories of the Bangladesh Diaspora" November 21 2022 The Daily Star Bangladesh

"Women Chairs Face Mushrooming Demands with Inadequate Support" January 31st 2023 Inside Higher Education

"Our Schools Must Tell a Better and more Complete Story about our Economic Inequality" February 21 2022 The Hechinger Report. With Karen V. Hansen.

BLOG POSTS 

​www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/family-tightrope/202307/minding-the-sibling-income-gap
​Minding the Sibling Income Gap Psychology Today Blog (Posted July 20 2023)

Families, depending on where they fall on the uneven rungs of the U.S. income and wealth distribution ladder, live in different circumstances. We know that economic inequality makes for important differences between families, in how they live and experience the world. But what about economic inequality within families?
We probably know of families, maybe even our own, in which members are not in the same tax bracket and live quite differently. But when it comes to economic inequality this is not something that we talk about very much, maybe because it does not quite fit with how we like to imagine families—as cohesive units in which members share from the same pot of resources. Although lately, there does seem to be more awareness and interest in exploring what monetary differences between family members can look and feel like.
The ABC sitcom Home Economics, launched in 2021, is about the lives and relationships of three adult siblings whose financial lives are about as far apart as one could get. The oldest brother, Tom, is a middle-class struggling writer; Sarah is a social worker who is barely making ends meet; and the youngest brother, Connor, runs a private-equity firm and is in the top 1 percent of wage earners in the U.S. The three have squabbles in typical sibling fashion over just about everything, including money. In typical sitcom fashion, though, we see these problems resolve at the end of the 30-minute episodes.
Of course, not many of us (actually, hardly any of us) have a super-wealthy sibling. We may very well, though, have a sibling who makes significantly more or less money than us.
Sibling relationships are life-spanning and carry important consequences for health and well-being. Inevitably, though, in a society in which money matters so much, economic differences can challenge these relationships.


Since 2019, the Global Siblings & Inequality Project, which I launched, has been exploring economic gaps in families by studying the experiences of financially disparate adult siblings in India, Sweden, the United States, and other parts of the world. We have interviewed siblings who grew up together but whose life trajectories have diverged and created dissimilar economic circumstances and lifestyles for them in the adult years. Through this, we have learned how siblings in these circumstances (“cross-class siblings”) can effectively navigate their economic gaps and create fulfilling and supportive relationships with each other.
Olivia (not her real name), a successful lawyer, told us how she and her sister, a food industry worker, “could not be more different.” She has a lot more in common with her close friends. Still, she feels a special “love connection” with her sister and cherishes their times together: “I just love my sister. When we get together, we laugh and joke and we talk about my mom and our kids and our family and food.” Their “sib-ship” is strengthened by the acceptance that the two do not have to be best friends. They don’t have to have common interests and mindsets and share their entire lives together; rather, they can just treasure their relationship like the gem that it is.
Jenny, a home health care worker making just above the poverty line, told us that, “Money is not everything.” Jenny shares the care of her elderly mother with her sister, a professional with a six-figure salary. And their relationship is strengthened by their appreciation for each other. “My sister tells me all the time that she’s incredibly grateful for all of the practical ways I help our mother. She says, money can’t buy love. And I say back to her, but money does pay for medical bills.”
For adult siblings in divergent financial circumstances, gift exchange can be a tricky matter. Not only are there the usual worries, like, Will they like it? or, Do they already have one of those? There is also the anxiety of trying to give a present that is (or at least looks like it is) of similar value to what you expect to receive.


In some families, siblings are totally fine with giving and receiving gifts of uneven value. But for others it is a sore spot of anger and resentment. In order to avoid these problems, cross-class siblings can organize gift exchanges to minimize asymmetries. They can, for example, agree to limit spending to a certain dollar amount, to only give presents to children, or to restrict gifts to homemade and consignment store items. Or maybe even avoid gifts completely.
When it comes to loans between siblings, defining terms that are acceptable and realistic is especially important. Siblings can make sure a loan does not ultimately erode their relationship by doing a close internal check of their own expectations, how realistic they are, and what they are willing to accept in the long term.
Isiah, a successful music performer, producer, and DJ, lent money to his brother knowing he would never get it back: “It’s a loan in name only. I’m not getting it back. And you know, I’m fine with that.”
In our research, we found that siblings with unequal economic circumstances may need to re-frame their understanding of past family histories. Some families, especially those with cross-class siblings, internalize the Black Sheep and the Golden Child, incorporating them into their family histories. When this happens, these destructive ideas become part of how siblings see themselves and relate to each other. The Black Sheep and the Golden Child are deeply damaging myths. Regardless of whether they are of a vilifying or glorifying nature, these myths accentuate the exceptionalism of one child, setting them apart and creating barriers to empathy and understanding between siblings and family members.
Unraveling these “exceptional child” narratives is tough but necessary for siblings who want to better connect with each other. It’s only when siblings let down their guard enough to listen carefully to each other that they can come to understand how their different life trajectories can’t be explained by just one thing, such as their sibling’s exceptional talent or proclivity for trouble.
Listening, accepting and appreciating. These are simple though certainly not easy steps in any family relationship. But they are likely to be well worth the effort for cross-class siblings who want to focus on what brings them together instead of what drives them apart.

Supermoms of Children With Disabilities
When advocating for care and services for a child feels like a war. (Psychology Today Blog) Posted August 2 2023
At a neighborhood summer barbecue, a young boy who looked to be about four years old was picking up stray sticks from the lawn. With great deliberation, he arranged them in straight rows on the grass. After a few minutes, for no apparent reason, he flung himself to the ground, wailing loudly and tightly covering his ears. As a harried-looking woman holding a plate of food rushed over to tend to him, people quickly turned back to the festivities.
Later on, I spoke to the woman as she sat on a lawn chair, holding and rocking the now calm boy on her lap wearing large noise-blocking headphones. She introduced herself as Cara and her son as Ray. As we chatted, I told Cara I had an adult son with autism and intellectual disabilities. She revealed that Ray had been diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder or ASD, characterized by restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities and persistent deficits in social communication and interaction.
Since the diagnosis, Cara’s days had been consumed with doctors, therapists and school authorities in charge of educational supports for Ray. Not surprisingly, she looked exhausted. “It’s a war,” she said grimly. “It’s a battle to get Ray the services he needs.”
I left the conversation with a sense of unease and anxiety about Cara and other mothers like her. After all, wars always incur costs, not only in dollars and cents but in human suffering and loss. I worry about the costs of the struggles Cara is going through, not only to her but also to her family, community and society at large.
We need to envision and create a system in which the care and support of persons with disabilities do not pit families against the bureaucracies and institutions that are supposed to be helping them.
The parents of children with ASD have exceptionally high levels of stress and mental and physical health issues. The work of advocacy, of negotiating for appropriate care and services for children, is a focal point of pressure. Along with the daily tasks of life, of making sure the rent is paid and food is on the table, the parents of children with disabilities are in a battle of advocacy—of navigating a dense and maze-like set of medical and educational institutions in order to access and coordinate appropriate services for their child.
A range of family members—fathers, grandparents, siblings and others—are involved in the care of children with disabilities. For mothers, though, the expectations and pressures are arguably especially sharp because of the special emphasis our culture places on the role of mothers. Think of the Supermom who does it all, with complete dedication and without a drop of sweat, from making sure the kids are wearing sunblock to working two jobs to pay the bills.


For those raising children with disabilities, Supermom merges with what I call the “Good Advocate Mother.” Like Cara at the neighborhood barbecue, the Good Advocate Mother is determined to do whatever it takes to ensure their child gets the best services, even if means going to war with powerful bureaucracies and people. Tireless and selfless, the Good Advocate Mother is a Warrior-Hero who monitors and manages treatment and services for the child with disability. She maintains a stance of hyper-vigilance through intensive and ongoing scrutiny and oversight over the child’s education, treatments, and progress. She works hard to develop expertise in the science of her child’s disability.
The Supermom/Good Advocate Mother is a myth that can inspire and empower mothers who are negotiating services for their child. At the same time, the myth fosters unrealistic expectations. If mothers in general are susceptible to guilt, the mothers of children with disabilities are especially prone to feeling like they are not advocating effectively enough for their child and that they are not measuring up to the ideal. The myth also sets the groundwork for blaming mothers for the unsatisfying progress of their child.
In addition to fostering conflicts between advocating families and institutions, the current system of care and services for persons with disabilities in the United States is one that reflects the entrenched inequalities in our society. Some families are simply more likely to succeed in their advocacy battles in comparison to others because of their social location and resources. For example, along with the benefits of living in well-funded school districts, families of greater economic means are better able to hire attorneys and pay for independent educational evaluations when trying to negotiating educational services for their child with disability. Middle and upper-middle class mothers also have access to cultural capital or class-based cultural knowledge which they can use to effectively interact with school personnel and authorities to reach their goals.