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| At work pregnant with Anna |
When I was pregnant with Lydia, I was finishing up my dissertation, and had already concluded that a traditional academic career wasn't something I was interested in for many reasons. In the last few years of my graduate school career, I found the activity that got me most energized and excited was consulting with others about their teaching. Consulting about teaching was a side-job that I was doing to supplement my income as part of a group of graduate teaching consultants at U-M's Center for Research on Learning and Teaching (CRLT). I remember telling Jeff at one point that I couldn't believe I was getting paid to be part of the group, because it was so enjoyable. When I heard myself say that, I realized that perhaps I was better suited to a career in educational development than in academe. I loved talking about teaching, and found I enjoyed enabling others to make incremental changes to improve their teaching and being a mediator between students and instructors to improve the learning environment. Yet, as much as I felt the mission of educational development is valuable and found the work fulfilling, once I got pregnant, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to pursue a career at that point. I wasn't sure what was "right" for me.
I thought I might be able to take some significant time off after giving birth to Lydia, and then consider career options a few years down the line. However, an opportunity to work as a postdoctoral research associate opened up for me starting in August at CRLT, when Lydia was going to be about 4 months old. Jeff and I had a counselor - Tom - who we met with early in our marriage, and he had recommended couples come back once a year for a "check up" with their counselor. So when I was pregnant and considering taking the postdoctoral research scholar position, we met with Tom. I basically told him I wasn't sure about pursuing a career at that point. I had a work-at-home mother, and I felt that it is important for children to receive their mothers' attention and guidance. I remembered how my mother was always there (even when my dad often worked late and traveled) cooking for us, helping us with homework, shuttling us to various enriching activities, teaching us life skills, and shaping us into the people we were to become. A career mother friend told me that lots of people were qualified to take care of my children, but I felt no one could be as invested in raising my children well as I am. Like Anne-Marie Slaughter wrote in her awesome article on career and motherhood, "Deep down, I wanted to go home." I wanted to be the one to be there in those first few precious years. At the same time, I had pursued a Ph.D., and had developed expertise in both my discipline and pedagogy, and I could use those skills to improve student learning and to support instructors in becoming better teachers. I had an opportunity to start a career at the teaching center where I had developed a passion for educational development, and in the town where Jeff and I planned to stay. That opportunity likely would not present itself again. I put it to Tom, "Should I take this job? What is the right decision?" Tom smiled and listened, and said, "I can't make this choice for you." As Jeff had already told me many times, there was no "right" choice. Tom pointed out that if I chose to pursue a career, I could always change my mind and quit if I found it wasn't working for me.
True. But I knew about path dependence. One's current and future actions depend on the path of previous actions. I knew if I made the choice to pursue a career, I would likely get positive feedback for that choice, which would mean that choice would become self-reinforcing. I would have to disrupt an equilibrium to break from my career path, and the laws of inertia are such that disrupting an equilibrium is harder than going with the flow.
I consulted my parents about the choice. My mother, to my surprise, thought I should pursue my career, even while having young children. She said she felt we were never grateful for the choice that she made to stay home to raise us, and that I should not waste my education and skills. That really cut deep, since I had not sufficiently thanked my mom for being at home to raise us. She was amommymous to her own kids. My father - who had a work-at-home mom as his wife and mother - also felt very strongly that I should pursue a career. He felt that my mother - who is a bright mathematician and had worked at Bell Labs and General Electric before having children - had given up her interests, and he felt regret over that. He said I just couldn't get my Ph.D. and not use it.
I ultimately went ahead and took the job. I asked to work slightly reduced hours Monday-Thursday, and to have Fridays off, since Lydia was so young. I took my lunch hours to go home and breast feed Lydia, and even after she weaned I continued to go home to have lunch with her. When a permanent position opened up, I interviewed and took the job with the same part-time schedule because I found having that time together in the middle of the day and on Fridays made a huge difference in my relationship with Lydia. I was "having it all" - able to pursue my career, but also spending significant time at home. And when I am in a good place spiritually, I can be content with that and present where I'm at - with the girls or at the office - and accept that I'm doing a fine job at both. However, instead I often feel that by trying to juggle both, I'm doing neither well. Going home for lunch and working fewer hours than my colleagues means I almost never have open space in my schedule, and I usually feel like I'm drowning at work. People joke about my 4AM e-mails, as I try to cram work in any time I can find when kids are asleep. And at home, the pace of my time with the girls is frenetic as I attempt to enjoy them while juggling household responsibilities (laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, etc.). Time just for myself - to read, to meditate, to exercise, to pray - is a precious and rare commodity.
In her article, Slaughter compares career mothers to marathon runners. "Consider the following proposition: An employer has two equally talented and productive employees. One trains for and runs marathons when he is not working. The other takes care of two children. What assumptions is the employer likely to make about the marathon runner? That he gets up in the dark every day and logs an hour or two running before even coming into the office, or drives himself to get out there even after a long day. That he is ferociously disciplined and willing to push himself through distraction, exhaustion, and days when nothing seems to go right in the service of a goal far in the distance. That he must manage his time exceptionally well to squeeze all of that in. Be honest: Do you think the employer makes those same assumptions about the parent? Even though she likely rises in the dark hours before she needs to be at work, organizes her children’s day, makes breakfast, packs lunch, gets them off to school, figures out shopping and other errands even if she is lucky enough to have a housekeeper—and does much the same work at the end of the day." It's an apt comparison. Slaughter clearly thinks both career mothers and marathon runners are to be equally admired for their disciplined lifestyles, but the jury is still out for me. I wonder, is it admirable to be this disciplined? For years I was a long distance runner (10 pounds ago, I often joke). I finally quit when I realized that I could still work out and be physically fit, but spend a lot less time on fitness and use that time for other valuable activities, like community service and cultivating relationships. Yet here I am again, this time running on empty by choosing to pursue a career and motherhood. Like I said, it is a war within.
People (myself included) often say that the best mother is a happy one. Whatever makes the mother happier - working in the home or at the office - is what she should do. Because a happy mom will be better able to love and serve her children. Yet, I think that is a cop out. Contentment is a choice, just like when and whether to pursue a career was a choice for me. My war within is a symptom that I am not spiritually mature enough to be content in all circumstances. To call a truce on my mommy war within, I know I should focus less on being disciplined in balancing my career and motherhood, and more on seeing all my work as spiritual - at home and at the office. “We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed” (Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God). I guess I'm still in process on that one.
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