Latest news with #Louvain
Yahoo
11 hours ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Today's parents are weaker than ever
Oh, how we love to pathologise normal life. Grief, heartbreak, misfortune or even boredom: why call these things what they are when there are exciting therapeutic terms out there? Terms that make us feel a hell of a lot better than any version – however kindly meant – of the old-school approach of 'That's life.' Terms that make us feel special. Well, there's a new term out there, one you'd better get used to, because it's the hot new condition in town: 'parental burnout.' Two professors of psychology from the University of Louvain in Belgium, Moira Mikolajczak and Isabelle Roskam, helped define the phrase, after gathering evidence from 30,000 parents worldwide – and what I'd give to read that evidence. Was it, for example, presented by people in diary form? If so, I'm guessing snippets might read a little like this: 'Knackered after a day out with the kids.' Yeah, that's just parenting I'm afraid. 'I sometimes fantasise about all the things I'd do if I didn't have kids.' Again, a totally normal symptom of parenting. 'I'm currently finding everything the little one does irritating.' At the risk of repeating myself: parenting. However it was presented, Mikolajczak and her team used that evidence to break down 'parental burnout' into four stages. The first was, predictably, 'exhaustion'. Although they warn that 'this is not just fatigue that disappears after two or three good nights' sleep', but when the 'thought of what you have to do with or for your children is already exhausting.' The second occurs when you find yourself 'emotionally distancing' yourself from your child, and 'is a defence mechanism, to save the little energy you have yourself.' The third is 'loss of pleasure in parenting', and the fourth 'shame'. 'Suddenly, you've become this horrible parent who's screaming at the kids, who is impatient, who's stressed all the time.' Not to be flippant, but if these are the criteria, then I'm fairly sure that I and every woman I know has at some point suffered from 'parental burnout'. And while I won't play down how hard parenting is (it's harder than any job I've ever done), I do feel it necessary to point out that it has always been hard, that modern parents don't get to own the parenting struggle – and could it be that we're too soft? In a million different logistical ways, first world parenting will be far easier than ever before. We are not, by and large, scrubbing nappies, making every meal from scratch, nursing our children through outbreaks of tuberculosis or watching them die of smallpox. Yes, we have terrifying new challenges, like screens, but when people cite 'the struggle to balance increasingly busy professional lives with the pressure to achieve a perfect family life', I get impatient. Just as we don't get to own the hardship of parenting, we are not the first generation in history to be 'busy'. We are not the first to strive for perfection, and we are certainly not the first to feel disappointed with ourselves for failing to achieve it. When it comes to turning a normal human experience into an ailment, however – a malady, syndrome, condition or affliction – we are true innovators. Trailblazers, no less. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
12 hours ago
- Health
- Telegraph
Today's parents are weaker than ever
Oh, how we love to pathologise normal life. Grief, heartbreak, misfortune or even boredom: why call these things what they are when there are exciting therapeutic terms out there? Terms that make us feel a hell of a lot better than any version – however kindly meant – of the old-school approach of 'That's life.' Terms that make us feel special. Well, there's a new term out there, one you'd better get used to, because it's the hot new condition in town: ' parental burnout.' Two professors of psychology from the University of Louvain in Belgium, Moira Mikolajczak and Isabelle Roskam, helped define the phrase, after gathering evidence from 30,000 parents worldwide – and what I'd give to read that evidence. Was it, for example, presented by people in diary form? If so, I'm guessing snippets might read a little like this: 'Knackered after a day out with the kids.' Yeah, that's just parenting I'm afraid. 'I sometimes fantasise about all the things I'd do if I didn't have kids.' Again, a totally normal symptom of parenting. 'I'm currently finding everything the little one does irritating.' At the risk of repeating myself: parenting. However it was presented, Mikolajczak and her team used that evidence to break down 'parental burnout' into four stages. The first was, predictably, ' exhaustion '. Although they warn that 'this is not just fatigue that disappears after two or three good nights' sleep', but when the 'thought of what you have to do with or for your children is already exhausting.' The second occurs when you find yourself 'emotionally distancing' yourself from your child, and 'is a defence mechanism, to save the little energy you have yourself.' The third is 'loss of pleasure in parenting', and the fourth 'shame'. 'Suddenly, you've become this horrible parent who's screaming at the kids, who is impatient, who's stressed all the time.' Not to be flippant, but if these are the criteria, then I'm fairly sure that I and every woman I know has at some point suffered from 'parental burnout'. And while I won't play down how hard parenting is (it's harder than any job I've ever done), I do feel it necessary to point out that it has always been hard, that modern parents don't get to own the parenting struggle – and could it be that we're too soft? In a million different logistical ways, first world parenting will be far easier than ever before. We are not, by and large, scrubbing nappies, making every meal from scratch, nursing our children through outbreaks of tuberculosis or watching them die of smallpox. Yes, we have terrifying new challenges, like screens, but when people cite 'the struggle to balance increasingly busy professional lives with the pressure to achieve a perfect family life', I get impatient. Just as we don't get to own the hardship of parenting, we are not the first generation in history to be 'busy'. We are not the first to strive for perfection, and we are certainly not the first to feel disappointed with ourselves for failing to achieve it. When it comes to turning a normal human experience into an ailment, however – a malady, syndrome, condition or affliction – we are true innovators. Trailblazers, no less.
Scroll.in
12-05-2025
- General
- Scroll.in
The Congolese philosopher who liberated ‘Africa' from the chains of Western thought
Congolese thinker, philosopher and linguist Valentin-Yves Mudimbe died on April 21, 2025, at the age of 83. He was in the US, where he had lived for many years. A towering figure in African critical thought, Mudimbe's work – translated and studied worldwide – has profoundly shaped postcolonial studies. He leaves a groundbreaking intellectual legacy on the colonisation of knowledge and the condition of Africans. At a time when debates on decolonising knowledge are gaining ground, Mudimbe's passing invites us to revisit the work of a thinker who, since the 1980s, paved the way for a radical critique of imposed 'categories'. He wanted to help rebuild intellectual frameworks which imagined and defined Africa on its own terms, not through the labels or categories imposed by colonial powers. As a specialist in postmodern and postcolonial theories, I think he had considerable influence on the field of postcolonial studies. He was one of the most influential African thinkers of the 20th century. His impact did not come from activism, but from careful, sustained intellectual work. With his seminal work The Invention of Africa (1988) he profoundly disrupted African and postcolonial studies. His work went far beyond the usual east-west divide. A journey between Africa and exile Valentin-Yves Mudimbe was born in 1941 in Jadotville (now Likasi), in the Democratic Republic of Congo. His early education took place in a Benedictine monastery. Later, he pursued further studies at Louvain in Belgium. His religious education left a lasting mark on his thinking. It shaped his critical approach to knowledge. His work often explored the connections between language, power, and how ideas become institutionalised. In 1970, Mudimbe returned to the newly independent Congo. He began teaching at the National University of Zaïre. The country was then caught between postcolonial hope and growing disillusionment. Under Mobutu Sese Seko's regime, the political atmosphere grew stifling for independent thinkers. The state had adopted the rhetoric of ' authenticity ', turning it into a tool of control. Faced with this ideological stranglehold, Mudimbe chose exile in 1979. He relocated to the US, where he taught at Stanford and later Duke University. There, he continued his work of critical deconstruction. Yet, despite his physical distance, he remained deeply committed to Africa's future. Colonial library First published in English in 1988 as the The Invention of Africa, the book was translated into French in 2021 under the title L'Invention de l'Afrique, (Présence africaine). Mudimbe offers much more than a critique of colonial representations. He examined the ' colonial library '. It refers to the vast collection of religious, anthropological and administrative texts that, for centuries, framed Africa as an object to be studied, dominated and 'saved'. Mudimbe was always careful not to accept ideas just because they were passed down. Instead, he was always looking for new ways to think freely and independently. Unlike Edward Said, the Palestinian-American literary theorist and critic who exposed how the west constructed a mythologised 'Orient', Mudimbe revealed something more insidious. He showed that Africa was often imagined as a void to be filled. It was cast as a cultural blank slate, which helped justify the colonial mission. This radical deconstruction raised a crucial question: how can we produce knowledge that does not, even through critique, reproduce the very colonial frameworks it seeks to challenge? The book's impact was profound, resonating across Africa, Europe and North America. It created an intellectual foundation for thinkers like Achille Mbembe, Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Felwine Sarr, who, in turn, continued to explore what truly decolonised African thought might look like. Building something new Mudimbe was never satisfied with existing structures. He aimed to build something new from the ground up. For him, liberating Africa required a rebuilding of knowledge systems. He rejected the assumption that western intellectual frameworks alone could define Africa. He also warned against essentialist temptations – the trap of creating new conceptual prisons in the name of authenticity. His thinking followed a rigorous method: analysing discourse, questioning inherited categories, and dismantling false assumptions. This demanding work aimed to empower Africa to think for itself without cutting itself off from the rest of the world. His fiction – Between Tides (in French, Entre les eaux. Dieu, un prêtre, la révolution), Before the Birth of the Moon (Le Bel Immonde in French), Shaba Deux : les carnets de mère Marie Gertrude – embodies the same refusal to be stereotyped. His characters navigate colonial legacies, state nationalism and rigid identity politics through stories of displacement and fragmented memory. Language itself becomes a battleground for creativity in his novels. Sharply crafted, his prose captures the diversity of contemporary African experience. Through both his literary and philosophical works, Mudimbe consistently insisted that identity is never a given. It is always a construct to be questioned. Living legacy As Africa navigates complex geopolitical transformations and redefines its cultural identities, Mudimbe's intellectual legacy proves more vital than ever. His work challenges us to recognise that true liberation extends beyond political sovereignty or cultural revival. It requires the radical work of reinventing how knowledge itself is produced and validated. Mudimbe's lasting legacy urges us to remain intellectually vigilant in a world where knowledge is constantly shifting. He challenges us to reject rigid categories, embrace complexity with care, and make room for uncertainty instead of rushing to resolve it. For Mudimbe, to decolonise knowledge means relentless critique paired with creative reconstruction. It means building pluralistic and open frameworks that honour Africa's diverse experiences without nostalgia or complacency. Christophe Premat.
Yahoo
08-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Valentin-Yves Mudimbe: the philosopher who reshaped how the world thinks about Africa
Congolese thinker, philosopher and linguist Valentin-Yves Mudimbe died on 21 April 2025 at the age of 83. He was in the US, where he had lived for many years. A towering figure in African critical thought, Mudimbe's work – translated and studied worldwide – has profoundly shaped postcolonial studies. He leaves a groundbreaking intellectual legacy on the colonisation of knowledge and the condition of Africans. At a time when debates on decolonising knowledge are gaining ground, Mudimbe's passing invites us to revisit the work of a thinker who, since the 1980s, paved the way for a radical critique of imposed 'categories'. He wanted to help rebuild intellectual frameworks which imagined and defined Africa on its own terms, not through the labels or categories imposed by colonial powers. As a specialist in postmodern and postcolonial theories, I think he had considerable influence on the field of postcolonial studies. He was one of the most influential African thinkers of the 20th century. His impact did not come from activism, but from careful, sustained intellectual work. With his seminal work The Invention of Africa (1988) he profoundly disrupted African and postcolonial studies. His work went far beyond the usual east-west divide. Valentin-Yves Mudimbe was born in 1941 in Jadotville (now Likasi), in the Democratic Republic of Congo. His early education took place in a Benedictine monastery. Later, he pursued further studies at Louvain in Belgium. His religious education left a lasting mark on his thinking. It shaped his critical approach to knowledge. His work often explored the connections between language, power, and how ideas become institutionalised. In 1970, Mudimbe returned to the newly independent Congo. He began teaching at the National University of Zaïre. The country was then caught between postcolonial hope and growing disillusionment. Under Mobutu Sese Seko's regime, the political atmosphere grew stifling for independent thinkers. The state had adopted the rhetoric of 'authenticity', turning it into a tool of control. Faced with this ideological stranglehold, Mudimbe chose exile in 1979. He relocated to the US, where he taught at Stanford and later Duke University. There, he continued his work of critical deconstruction. Yet, despite his physical distance, he remained deeply committed to Africa's future. First published in English in 1988 as the The Invention of Africa, the book was translated into French in 2021 under the title L'Invention de l'Afrique, (Présence africaine). Mudimbe offers much more than a critique of colonial representations. He examined the 'colonial library'. It refers to the vast collection of religious, anthropological and administrative texts that, for centuries, framed Africa as an object to be studied, dominated and 'saved'. Mudimbe was always careful not to accept ideas just because they were passed down. Instead, he was always looking for new ways to think freely and independently. Unlike Edward Said, the Palestinian-American literary theorist and critic who exposed how the west constructed a mythologised 'Orient', Mudimbe revealed something more insidious. He showed that Africa was often imagined as a void to be filled. It was cast as a cultural blank slate, which helped justify the colonial mission. This radical deconstruction raised a crucial question: how can we produce knowledge that does not, even through critique, reproduce the very colonial frameworks it seeks to challenge? The book's impact was profound, resonating across Africa, Europe and North America. It created an intellectual foundation for thinkers like Achille Mbembe, Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Felwine Sarr, who, in turn, continued to explore what truly decolonised African thought might look like. Mudimbe was never satisfied with existing structures. He aimed to build something new from the ground up. For him, liberating Africa required a rebuilding of knowledge systems. He rejected the assumption that western intellectual frameworks alone could define Africa. He also warned against essentialist temptations – the trap of creating new conceptual prisons in the name of authenticity. His thinking followed a rigorous method: analysing discourse, questioning inherited categories, and dismantling false assumptions. This demanding work aimed to empower Africa to think for itself without cutting itself off from the rest of the world. His fiction – Between Tides (in French, Entre les eaux. Dieu, un prêtre, la révolution), Before the Birth of the Moon (Le Bel Immonde in French), Shaba Deux : les carnets de mère Marie Gertrude – embodies the same refusal to be stereotyped. His characters navigate colonial legacies, state nationalism and rigid identity politics through stories of displacement and fragmented memory. Language itself becomes a battleground for creativity in his novels. Sharply crafted, his prose captures the diversity of contemporary African experience. Through both his literary and philosophical works, Mudimbe consistently insisted that identity is never a given. It is always a construct to be questioned. As Africa navigates complex geopolitical transformations and redefines its cultural identities, Mudimbe's intellectual legacy proves more vital than ever. His work challenges us to recognise that true liberation extends beyond political sovereignty or cultural revival. It requires the radical work of reinventing how knowledge itself is produced and validated. Mudimbe's lasting legacy urges us to remain intellectually vigilant in a world where knowledge is constantly shifting. He challenges us to reject rigid categories, embrace complexity with care, and make room for uncertainty instead of rushing to resolve it. For Mudimbe, to decolonise knowledge means relentless critique paired with creative reconstruction. It means building pluralistic and open frameworks that honour Africa's diverse experiences without nostalgia or complacency. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Christophe Premat, Stockholm University Read more: Investigators are increasingly using technology in conflict-related sexual assault cases Why Kinshasa keeps flooding – and why it's not just about the rain Rwanda's image abroad: how western countries are beginning to turn their backs Christophe Premat is a lecturer and researcher in Francophone cultural studies at the Department of Romance and Classical Studies at Stockholm University. In 2018, he published the book For a Critical Genealogy of the Francophonie, released by Stockholm University Press. He states that he worked at the French Institute of Sweden / French Embassy in Stockholm from 2008 to 2013, dealing, among other things, with issues related to the Francophonie. He is currently a member of CISE (Confédération Internationale Solidaire Écologiste), an association of French citizens abroad founded in 2018 ( He is the head of the Centre for Canadian Studies at Stockholm University.
