I have my mother's (and my foremother's) laugh

This week I'm yukking it up with Kamala, my own mamaleh, and of course, Sarah.

Aug 09, 2024

Welcome back to The Life of H: Sarah, Reimagined. Today’s post investigates and honors what we inherit from the laughter of our mothers (personal and cultural) and our foremothers.

Women’s contentious—and contagious laughter

Some years back, when she was still alive and in vibrant health, my mother, friends, and I were dining in one of the charming Italian restaurants where she loved to share food and friendship with those she loved. As was usual when sitting around the table with my mom, we laughed. A lot.

We’d barely caught our collective breath after cracking up over one funny story or another, when a man at the next table tapped my mother on the shoulder. She turned to him, her face still radiant with the after-glow of shared cheer.

Surely, my mother was expecting some words of affirmation or affection from the stranger. After all, she was beautiful and elegant in a down-to-earth way that few were able to resist. She dispensed compliments like free candy, and spread smiles wherever she went.

Now, this man leaned in close, as if to share a secret, but his voice carried so that we could all hear him clearly.

“When you laugh, madame,” he began, “you sound like a cockatoo.”

To be honest, we laughed about this in the weeks and years to come. A cockatoo? How does someone even come up with a criticism like that?

But in that moment the man’s words, delivered with derision, stunned us silent. Someone told him that his remarks weren’t welcome, and all of us rushed to comfort my mother and tell her to ignore the unwarranted attack.

She tried to wave off the sting and minimize its impact, but we could see she was struggling to compose herself.

Ever after, that stranger’s hissed words injected an intended dose of self-consciousness into moments of otherwise spontaneous self-expression.

Cackling and cracking up

So, when Kamala Harris’s laugh once more became fodder for the press, I was livid. Her laugh was tagged with words like cackle and crazy. Women are allowed to giggle or titter, but our unrepressed laughter attracts derision.

Happily, though, my anger soon turned to admiration. Because Kamala has done what my mother wasn’t able to muster as easily. She brushed the barbs aside. In her run for president, Kamala turned calculated criticism into a campaign selling point. She embraced fun and laughter as themes, while still being able to stand up for herself and her values, and stare down hecklers with steely-eyed strength.

When asked about being dissed for her laughter, Kamala told one interviewer proudly,
“I have my mother’s laugh.”

I can only hope that I do, too!

The author and her mother share a full bodied laugh. — Laughing with my mom.

Our foremother’s laughter

Sarah, the first person in the Bible to laugh, is another woman whose laughter caused controversy. Besides miraculously giving birth for the first time at age 90, she is best know for her laughter, which was either inappropriate, ingenious, or joyful—depending on how you translate the texts.

As I contemplate Sarah’s story, I’ve come to know her as a woman who enjoyed pleasure and who had an expressive laugh.

I’ve written more about Sarah’s laughter here.

What I’m reading

As I continue to study Biblical Hebrew (I’m now nearing the end of Level 2 in the 4-level certification course I’m pursuing) I am accompanied by Aviya Kushner’s book, The Grammar of God, a meditation on ancient Hebrew and the art of translation.

I couldn’t agree more with Kushner here:

“However Sarah laughed, however she defined delight, and whatever she really thought of Abraham, I imagine her as one of those people who know how to let their entire body be taken over with laughter. Everything she had learned in the world was in that laugh.” The Grammar of God by

Aviya Kushner