When I was born, Martin Luther King had been dead for a month and a half. Robert Kennedy had less than three weeks to live before he would be shot down in the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles.

The Vietnam War was raging on and on and somewhere in Upstate New York, in the middle of all this chaos, I was born.

My mother was only 18 years old when she had me. It was a small town. We were Catholic. My mother was not married. Need I say more?

Like my mother, I, too, chose not to marry (that generational pathology Republicans are so fond of talking about).

The irony is that being unmarried is about the only thing my mother and I have in common.

Almost 23 years later, I had my own daughter. I am not exactly naïve but I had absolutely no idea of what I was in for as a single mother. I was grateful that I had a healthy baby.

However, she was colicky for the first few months of her life and I was kept alive only by massive amounts of caffeine.

Looking for housing when you are a poor single mother is something of a nightmare. That's putting it mildly.

I heard things like, "No kids, not enough water". (Yes, someone actually said that to me.)

Or, "You better not be on Welfare, cause I don't take Welfare." How nice.

Did I mention that my child is bi-racial? No matter. I had plenty of obnoxious, overeducated, liberal, "didn't have my first kid til' I was 40" types accost me on a daily basis to remind me that my child wasn't like theirs.

"Is your child adopted?" The first time I encountered this question my daughter and I were in the Children's Library minding our own business.

I was literally speechless and I am rarely speechless.

I don't remember exactly what I said to her. It was some variation of "No, my daughter is half African-American". Upon saying that, some would literally wince and I would be greatly insulted. Other times people seemed confused like they didn't understand the math or the logistics of sex.

Some situations, I believe, are simply made worse by the fact that I look a lot younger than I am.

One time someone came up to me and asked what it was like being a teenage mother.

"I don't know. You'd have to ask one," I quipped.

Another oddity of being a single mom is that I am frequently asked why my daughter has my last name. I usually ask the person why their children have their husbands/kids father's last name if he isn't the one taking care of them or paying child support.

That question causes people to become really annoyed with me!

Some women have responded that they wanted to put their children's father's name on the birth certificate so they would be entitled to child support because they were not married. The fact remains that mothers are entitled to child support no matter what name is on the birth certificate. Unfortunately, this is a common response from women I have spoken with.

To me, it is symbolic of how effectively male culture dismisses female identity and that women now voluntarily choose to dismiss their importance and value as people. The fact that they pass this mentality on to their own children is profoundly disturbing and sad.

"Why didn't your baby's father want to marry you?" I used to get this question when my daughter was just a baby. When they discovered that I had no interest in being married they would become indignant and go off on some holier than thou "I'm a Christian" monologue that I would simply tune out. Sometimes, if I was in a really cantankerous mood, I would reply by saying "You know, if you were really Christian, you wouldn't be judging me."

Complete strangers would often accost me in supermarkets, parks, coffee houses and ask me point blank if my child was planned. Some people, taking the question to the next level, would ask me if my child was an accident. I am still outraged at such an allegation.

Sometimes while at the local pool I would chat with other moms. When they would ask about my husband I would foolishly correct them saying that I was never married to him. "So your child is illegitimate?" they would ask accusingly. "No, she's quite legitimate, I assure you."

Sadly, they were not convinced.

As a culture, we Americans are much too comfortable condemning anything that falls into the "other" category.

For example, single fathers who are a very small minority in this country are considered heroes while single mothers are perceived by much of our culture as irresponsible deviants with excessive "character flaws."

I am not a parasite. I am someone's mother.
I am not a slacker. I am unconventional.
I don't watch MTV, I don't even have cable.
I don't play video games.
I don't want to get married.
I don't want to have more kids.
I love to read the New York Times.
I love Jazz on Sundays.
I am addicted to caffeine.
My child isn't on Ritalin.
She doesn't have ADD.
My child attends a private school.
I am not obsessed with brand names.
I am not a Democrat, Republican or a Liberal.
I used to be homeless.
I was once on Welfare.
I love politics but hate politicians.
I adore Joan of Arc.
I would love to be Victoria Woodhull for a day.
I will dress up as Rosie the Riveter for Halloween.
I am a bookworm.
I am a writer.
I am an actress.
I am a X- Generation mother.
We are not a lazy, pathological, unambitious generation.
We are just different.
I am not like you.
But I am just as human.

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