Karen Spears Zacharias’s novel No Perfect Mothers imagines the life of Carrie Buck, the plaintiff in the Supreme Court Case upholding the constitutionality of eugenics-inspired, forced sterilization. As Zacharias observes in the acknowledgments, “The book is important at this pivotal time as women seek to reclaim what the Supreme Court has once again taken from us.”
Medical misogyny remains a problem. Apparently, so do forced sterilizations. In 2020, a nurse at an Immigration and Customs detention center in Georgia reported involuntary hysterectomies being performed.
In the 1920s, eugenics ushered in the “science” of breeding. Like plants or cattle, people seemingly could be bred to enhance or minimize human characteristics viewed as desirable or undesirable. Women were targets, especially those of color, disabled, orphaned, “feeble-minded.” Or, like Carrie, in the institution, who doctors described as having an “aberrant” sex drive. In fact, her stepmother’s nephew raped her. Pregnant at seventeen. Unmarried, unwanted.
Her assailant suffered no penalties, but a pregnant girl in Virginia might find herself in the Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded in Lynchburg, as did Carrie’s mother Emma, found unfit for mothering. Even more troubling was the 1924 Virginia law allowing—in fact, encouraging—sterilization of “unfit” mothers. This could “weed out” undesirable traits of those prone to shiftlessness, poverty, and prostitution. In 1927, the U.S. Supreme Court agreed. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., noted, in his opinion, that Carrie Buck, her mother, and baby daughter Vivian were suspected of being feebleminded. “Three generations of imbeciles are enough,” Holmes said.
Holmes’s opinion led to a notable increase in sterilizations in the United States. Nazi defendants cited Buck v. Bell in the Nuremburg trials. Virginia repealed the law in 1974, and the state got around to apologizing to victims twenty-eight years later, in 2002.
Using the known facts of the orphaned Carrie Buck, growing up in early 20th century Charlottesville, Virginia, Zacharias creates a compelling novel that re-imagines Carrie’s actions, thoughts, and feelings, creating a full, rich portrait of this unlucky girl. Zacharias had no diary from which to glean Carrie’s innermost thoughts.
In the book, her stepmother, among others, characterized Carrie’s shy silence as “dumb.” In fact, she hates being responsible for Carrie. The woman once roped her to a tree in the yard.
Carrie’s truest friend is a Black woman, Miss Mora, of Scots ancestry. Mora schools women about pregnancy and treatments purported to kill sperm, and she offers to help Carrie with the pregnancy, but Carrie hesitates; she wants a baby. She gives birth to Vivian.
The scenes depicting Miss Mora’s relationship with Carrie, along with other characters’ distinct narrative voices, enlarge and enrich the story with authentic dialogue and details that establish a multi-dimensional portrait of the era, and of Carrie as hardworking, compassionate, and eager to please, yet fighting circumstances rigged against her. Carrie does well in school. She studies the Bible. But she fears speaking up for herself. For instance, she dares not reveal the identity of her rapist—her stepmother’s nephew. Alice repeatedly berates and belittles Carrie. The girl muses: “Alice didn’t understand that what looked like compliance on Carrie’s behalf was silent rebellion.” . . . and, “The only reason Carrie was still living with the Dobbses [the foster family] was because homelessness was her only other option, and that terrified her more than J.T. or Alice did.”
The novel’s facts deepen and fortify the story, while Zacharias’s fictional accounts of inner fears, hopes, and dreams strengthen the bond between readers and characters. This is especially true of Carrie. She questions whether she could love her baby, who, after all, will be the child of a rapist: “… she thought perhaps she could love a girl child. Girls didn’t hardly stand a chance in the world, no matter who their parents were, but especially if those parents had a troubled past. Didn’t she know the truth of that?”
Karen Spears Zacharias
Karen Spears Zacharias is an American writer, a former journalist, and author of numerous books. She holds a MA in Appalachian Studies from Shepherd University, West Virginia, and a MA in Creative Media Practice from the University of West Scotland, UK. Her debut novel Mother of Rain received the Weatherford Award for Best in Appalachian Fiction from The Loyal Jones Appalachian Center at Berea College, Kentucky. Zacharias was named Appalachian Heritage Writer in 2018 by Shepherd University. Her work has been featured on National Public Radio, CNN, the New York Times, Washington Post and in numerous anthologies. She lives at the foot of the Cascade Mountains in Deschutes County, Oregon, where she’s an active member of the League of Women Voters and Central Oregon Writers Guild. She is a member of Phi Beta Delta and Phi Kappa Phi. A Gold Star daughter, she is a fierce advocate for democratic principles and women’s rights. Zacharias taught First-Amendment Rights at Central Washington University, Ellensburg, Washington, and continues to teach at writing workshops around the country.
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