Pa. artist's Milk Truck promotes breastfeeding

Picture a boxy old delivery truck with a huge pink breast on top. The nipple is a flashing red light.

It's the Milk Truck, spreading the message that nursing mothers have the need and the right to feed their infants in public.

Jill Miller, an artist and mother, said she got the idea after the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh asked her to do a project of her choice last year.

"I really wanted to make a piece that appealed to the wider community here, not just to the art audience," she said.

As she was looking around for ideas, Miller said many young mothers spoke to her of being harassed or made to feel unwelcome when they breastfed infants in public. Miller had raised her first son in northern California, and had never heard such complaints there.

There were enough stories to keep Miller interested in the subject, and she did a survey of mothers, through online groups and women she met.

"I wouldn't say every woman in Pittsburgh has been asked to cover up — that would be totally overblowing it," Miller said. "But there were these stories I would hear that seemed almost like urban legends."

The stories were noteworthy because Pennsylvania has a law guaranteeing women the right to breastfeed in public without harassment, she said.

Miller said it's an odd disconnect because doctors and public health officials encourage breastfeeding. According to the U.S. surgeon general, "One of the most highly effective preventive measures a mother can take to protect the health of her infant and herself is to breastfeed."

Responses from the survey and statistics supported that Pennsylvania was different. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 75 percent of women nationally report having breastfed a child at some time. In Pennsylvania the average is 63 percent, and in California, 87 percent.

"Jill is especially good at picking up on nuances in American society that we might not pay attention to," said Eric Shiner, director the Warhol Museum.

Miller, who also teaches in the Carnegie Mellon University School of Art, got help on the project from Tara McElfresh, another Pittsburgh resident she met at a mothering forum.

"I also had moms come in and tell me stories about how they had been harassed," said McElfresh, who became manager of the Milk Truck project.

Miller estimates that the project cost about $16,000, most of it from Kickstarter, an online funding platform for artists, inventors, and explorers. People describe their projects and set a funding goal, and contributors get something in return, such as artwork and personal thank-you notes.

Someone once described Miller's artwork as "very funny upfront, but very serious on the backside."

"It opens up a conversation with a lightness to have a giant breast on a truck. For me, the humor is very important. I couldn't do the project without it," said Miller.

Daisy Klaber Miksch, who runs a business that offers singing and music classes to children and families, recalled the first time she saw the truck.

"It made me smile," she wrote in an email. "What it said, and says, to me is, 'Breasts are nice. Nursing is nice! Here's a friendly reminder. Take a moment to consider changing your negative reaction to a mom who's breastfeeding her kid. Lighten the mood!"

Miksch isn't a mother, but said she has sisters and friends who've been given dirty looks for breastfeeding in public.

"We all have our own hangups — about bodies, about sex, etc. ... Our culture very strongly associates breasts with sex. But the fact that it's cultural means it's changeable," she wrote.

Some people complained, especially after local newspapers and TV stations did stories on the Milk Truck last year.

One man sent an email saying that he could "donate money to your silly truck" or continue to give to the local food bank to help feed hungry children. He chose the food bank.

"What an insane cause you chose to rally behind. ... Pointless!" he wrote.

Miller found that people from all walks of life were willing to help the project, such as a local mechanic who donated his time fixing the 20-year-old truck because he thought it was so cool. He even start using her nickname for it: the boob truck.

"He just loves telling people he works on the boob truck. He has a T-shirt and a picture," Miller said.

The Milk Truck, first displayed at the museum last September, traveled around town, too, attracting attention with its light blue, red and pink stripes and dots, pink hubcaps, and the words "feed your baby everywhere" in big letters on the back doors.

"I was actually driving behind it one day," Shiner said. "The responses from people on the street were fantastic. You could tell everyone was so intrigued."

The Warhol exhibit has closed, but Miller and McElfresh see new possibilities. Originally, they wanted the truck to be on call for mothers who get harassed in a public place, rushing to their aid with a comfortable, pink interior.

Over time they realized the Milk Truck was a valuable educational tool, even without a crisis. Stores for mothers and babies have invited the truck to park out front to show their support for breastfeeding, and it's appeared at public libraries.

"We have people all over the world who love the truck," Miller said. "We're now talking about having like a national tour. It would be like a rock band on a tour bus — but we are the tour bus," she said.