Leaning In

Last July, I wrote a lengthy response to the Anne-Marie Slaughter v. Sheryl Sandberg debate over whether women can or cannot have it all. If you recall or reread my essay, you’ll note that I don’t much like that query: “Can Women Have It All? has always sort of bothered me as a question. It’s so nebulous, so one-dimensional. Truly, what does it even mean? The answer is different for each of us and it changes as do we. There are definite societal inequalities -women make just .77 per dollar that men make in the US; some societies don’t value women at all- but by and large, I think that having it all means simply that you as a woman feel fulfilled, be it in your career, your relationships, your life choices, your sense of self.”

Yesterday, lazily scrolling through my Facebook feed during a spot of downtime while a babysitter was here, I came across a re-post of a plea to moms to put down their phones when with their children. The friend who re-posted this did so with the quick note “good reminder” headlining its presence on her page, and as many folks do need to put down (hide from themselves?) their gadgets, I started reading the letter.

Almost immediately, I was irritated. Written by a man who, as far as I could tell from his thumbnail pic, resembles Marcus Bachmann (egads!), this call to all the “mommas” out there reeked of condescension, chastising us for not watching closely enough every single move made by our kids. The results of this include a sad slump of your little boy’s shoulders, a delighted spin from your little girl that you missed and that she knows you missed (ignored). We are admonished to “put your eyes back on your prize: your kids,” to take every bit of this in and be completely present because the time is flying and soon your little boy won’t ask you to watch him, your little girl (“such a little beauty queen already” – don’t think I didn’t go ape on that phrase; great messaging Marcus) will stop twirling. His obvious belief that our not watching every moment of their lives will be damaging to them and a serious regret to us later, when it’s too late, was extremely clear. I got angrier.

For starters, Marcus, are you a stay-at-home-dad? Because if you are, you should have said that. For me at least, your message would have been taken differently. I may not have agreed but I’d have respected you for speaking from within the army of at-homers; I’d have known that you too are in the trenches and so at least understand the challenges of experiencing parenthood in that way. If you’re not, if you’re a working father who sees your kids one or two hours a day or if you’re not a parent at all, then please shut your trap. You have NO idea how much of everything I, as an engaged stay-at-home parent, see. No idea how involved I am, how much of myself I give most every hour of every day. No sense of my belief that my kids need to learn that I’m not going to watch and acknowledge and praise and encourage every spin/jump/song/coloring page they do. What’s that teaching them? That their pleasure and sense of accomplishment and self come from without rather than within? No way. I check my phone sometimes because I need and deserve a minute (or 20) for myself, whether that’s spent on a round of Angry Birds or attempting to edit a cover letter for a friend I’m helping with a job application. Maybe I just want to glance over the news headlines because I feel so disengaged with the larger world. Maybe I’m double-checking my older son’s school schedule so I’m not late to pick him up. What I’m not in need of is your presumptuous guilt trip from afar.

It is absolutely true that many parents need to pay more attention to their children, to be more sincerely engaged with them, to involve themselves more deeply in their children’s strengths and weaknesses, their development and health. When I read articles about children who are never read to, I ache. When I read about kids who are never hugged, loved, celebrated, valued, I almost can’t bear it. Those things are critically important to our children, and are some of our most basic and important responsibilities as their parents.

But I don’t think those neglectful parents are who this guy is addressing in his treacly note of patronizing disdain. I think it’s moms like me, and that’s why it riled me up so much.

Women who want to stay home with their children and can afford to do so are a fortunate group: I feel grateful every day that something I feel so passionately about (being an at-home parent) is doable. But these women are also a diverse group; some have no help, some have full-time nannies, some are trying to keep one foot in the career world they don’t want to leave, others are attempting to maintain lives that include identities as mom but also as woman, self, friend, role model, student. Which niche you inhabit can alter your experience of at-home parenthood dramatically.

I’d venture to say that most stay-at-home parents would agree that in some or many ways, their choice to stay home required sacrifice. It is hard every day, it is exhausting and not always fun or interesting. It asks that you be your best self so that you can raise and guide and keep safe and teach the little beings you brought into the  world (don’t even get me started on the anti-choice movement waging war in this country right now. Yep, I’m looking at you, crazy Arkansas.). And this point is the crux of why I just can’t get totally on board with Sheryl Sandberg’s call to Lean In.

Her movement, which I think is sincere in its hopes of encouraging women to be proud of their accomplishments and demand equal recognition/pay for them, nonetheless leaves out a swath of women who don’t have the resources to lean in as she suggests. This, I think, is what Anne-Marie Slaughter was troubled by and spoke out against.

Those resources could be financial: if you have a full-time nanny and/or a partner who is literally always there or able to be there, sure, you can lean in; if your kids are old enough to be in school much of each day, you can probably make something work; if you never wanted to stay home with your kids and lack monetary resources but have extended family around you who really want to pitch in, you could lean in and scrape by.

But if you choose to stay home either because you wouldn’t make enough by working to offset the cost of quality childcare (I worked in education pre-kids; I know) or because you really want to but would still like to maintain some sense of the you-before-becoming-a-mom, well, good luck leaning in in any big way. The lack of resources issue. I want to, I try to, but snow days, sick days, inconsistent auxiliary childcare…I’m on deck and have to be even with little or no notice. Meanwhile, your partner -likely, the breadwinner- needs to be supported too. My husband is great and his work enables our life, but when he travels 10 days out of 14, it’s all me and that’s a lot.

I’m not writing from bitterness in the least, but I do think it’s worthwhile to remember that many types of mom the world of parents is. More support and less judging would help us all, to both lean in and simply be able to do our best. What’s less frequently granted book tours and media coverage is that the U.S. has pitiful maternity and paternity leave policies, completely inadequate childcare available to the general populace, a definite lack of extended families in the same geographic area as you would find elsewhere. The village has, by and large, dissolved, and the challenges of that are definite. So when I read things like Marcus’ call to mommas to be even better, I kinda want to barf. When I feel I should be leaning in more, I think “on what? the wall?”

I welcome any change that helps to erase gender gaps in pay and expectations, I laud couples who make the best choices for who they are (both parents working, the dad stays home, they opt against having children, etc), but concurrently, let’s remember that in any decision and role there is nuance, shades of gray that also need acknowledgement and understanding. Let’s keep in mind that everyone starts from a different point, with different abilities and reserves and contexts. I’m starting to wander so will now say goodnight. To be continued, perhaps.

-first posted on March 11, 2013

Leaning In

Last July, I wrote a lengthy response to the Anne-Marie Slaughter v. Sheryl Sandberg debate over whether women can or cannot have it all. If you recall or reread my essay, you'll note that I don't much like that query:

"Can Women Have It All? has always sort of bothered me as a question. It’s so nebulous, so one-dimensional. Truly, what does it even mean? The answer is different for each of us and it changes as do we. There are definite societal inequalities -women make just .77 per dollar that men make in the US; some societies don’t value women at all- but by and large, I think that having it all means simply that you as a woman feel fulfilled, be it in your career, your relationships, your life choices, your sense of self."

Yesterday, lazily scrolling through my Facebook feed during a spot of downtime while a babysitter was here, I came across a re-post of a plea to moms to put down their phones when with their children. The friend who re-posted this did so with the quick note "good reminder" headlining its presence on her page, and as many folks do need to put down (hide from themselves?) their gadgets, I started reading the letter.

Almost immediately, I was irritated. Written by a man who, as far as I could tell from his thumbnail pic, resembles Marcus Bachmann (egads!), this call to all the "mommas" out there reeked of condescension, chastising us for not watching closely enough every single move made by our kids. The results of this include a sad slump of your little boy's shoulders, a delighted spin from your little girl that you missed and that she knows you missed (ignored). We are admonished to "put your eyes back on your prize: your kids," to take every bit of this in and be completely present because the time is flying and soon your little boy won't ask you to watch him, your little girl ("such a little beauty queen already" - don't think I didn't go ape on that phrase; great messaging Marcus) will stop twirling. His obvious belief that our not watching every moment of their lives will be damaging to them and a serious regret to us later, when it's too late, was extremely clear. I got angrier.

For starters, Marcus, are you a stay-at-home-dad? Because if you are, you should have said that. For me at least, your message would have been taken differently. I may not have agreed but I'd have respected you for speaking from within the army of at-homers; I'd have known that you too are in the trenches and so at least understand the challenges of experiencing parenthood in that way. If you're not, if you're a working father who sees your kids one or two hours a day or if you're not a parent at all, then please shut your trap. You have NO idea how much of everything I, as an engaged stay-at-home parent, see. No idea how involved I am, how much of myself I give most every hour of every day. No sense of my belief that my kids need to learn that I'm not going to watch and acknowledge and praise and encourage every spin/jump/song/coloring page they do. What's that teaching them? That their pleasure and sense of accomplishment and self come from without rather than within? No way. I check my phone sometimes because I need and deserve a minute (or 20) for myself, whether that's spent on a round of Angry Birds or attempting to edit a cover letter for a friend I'm helping with a job application. Maybe I just want to glance over the news headlines because I feel so disengaged with the larger world. Maybe I'm double-checking my older son's school schedule so I'm not late to pick him up. What I'm not in need of is your presumptuous guilt trip from afar.

It is absolutely true that many parents need to pay more attention to their children, to be more sincerely engaged with them, to involve themselves more deeply in their children's strengths and weaknesses, their development and health. When I read articles about children who are never read to, I ache. When I read about kids who are never hugged, loved, celebrated, valued, I almost can't bear it. Those things are critically important to our children, and are some of our most basic and important responsibilities as their parents.

But I don't think those neglectful parents are who this guy is addressing in his treacly note of patronizing disdain. I think it's moms like me, and that's why it riled me up so much.

Women who want to stay home with their children and can afford to do so are a fortunate group: I feel grateful every day that something I feel so passionately about (being an at-home parent) is doable. But these women are also a diverse group; some have no help, some have full-time nannies, some are trying to keep one foot in the career world they don't want to leave, others are attempting to maintain lives that include identities as mom but also as woman, self, friend, role model, student. Which niche you inhabit can alter your experience of at-home parenthood dramatically.

I'd venture to say that most stay-at-home parents would agree that in some or many ways, their choice to stay home required sacrifice. It is hard every day, it is exhausting and not always fun or interesting. It asks that you be your best self so that you can raise and guide and keep safe and teach the little beings you brought into the  world (don't even get me started on the anti-choice movement waging war in this country right now. Yep, I'm looking at you, crazy Arkansas.). And this point is the crux of why I just can't get totally on board with Sheryl Sandberg's call to Lean In.

Her movement, which I think is sincere in its hopes of encouraging women to be proud of their accomplishments and demand equal recognition/pay for them, nonetheless leaves out a swath of women who don't have the resources to lean in as she suggests. This, I think, is what Anne-Marie Slaughter was troubled by and spoke out against.

Those resources could be financial: if you have a full-time nanny and/or a partner who is literally always there or able to be there, sure, you can lean in; if your kids are old enough to be in school much of each day, you can probably make something work; if you never wanted to stay home with your kids and lack monetary resources but have extended family around you who really want to pitch in, you could lean in and scrape by.

But if you choose to stay home either because you wouldn't make enough by working to offset the cost of quality childcare (I worked in education pre-kids; I know) or because you really want to but would still like to maintain some sense of the you-before-becoming-a-mom, well, good luck leaning in in any big way. The lack of resources issue. I want to, I try to, but snow days, sick days, inconsistent auxiliary childcare...I'm on deck and have to be even with little or no notice. Meanwhile, your partner -likely, the breadwinner- needs to be supported too. My husband is great and his work enables our life, but when he travels 10 days out of 14, it's all me and that's a lot.

I'm not writing from bitterness in the least, but I do think it's worthwhile to remember that many types of mom the world of parents is. More support and less judging would help us all, to both lean in and simply be able to do our best. What's less frequently granted book tours and media coverage is that the U.S. has pitiful maternity and paternity leave policies, completely inadequate childcare available to the general populace, a definite lack of extended families in the same geographic area as you would find elsewhere. The village has, by and large, dissolved, and the challenges of that are definite. So when I read things like Marcus' call to mommas to be even better, I kinda want to barf. When I feel I should be leaning in more, I think "on what? the wall?"

I welcome any change that helps to erase gender gaps in pay and expectations, I laud couples who make the best choices for who they are (both parents working, the dad stays home, they opt against having children, etc), but concurrently, let's remember that in any decision and role there is nuance, shades of gray that also need acknowledgement and understanding. Let's keep in mind that everyone starts from a different point, with different abilities and reserves and contexts. I'm starting to wander so will now say goodnight. To be continued, perhaps.

Thoughts on women, having it all

Though I heard about Anne-Marie Slaughter's article in The Atlantic just after it was published several weeks back and read a bit about the ensuing debate about whether Slaughter or Sandberg (Sheryl; her TED talk and commencement speech at Barnard in 2011 as "the other side") had it right regarding women having it all (or not), I only recently found the time to read Slaughter's piece, Why Women Still Can't Have it All, and find myself still immersed in a thought process of it. Slaughter, the first woman director of policy planning at the State Department, and Sandberg, COO of Facebook since 2008, are, no getting around it, incredibly accomplished women. Both are extremely well-educated, successful throughout their careers in a number of impressive positions at many impressive places, and concurrently, wives and mothers. On the surface, it would be easy to both say they had it all and wonder how in the world they did. I feel stressed just thinking about how they managed to handle pregnancy, birth, heading back to work, raising the kids, succeeding more, traveling, public-speaking, exercising, their marriages and so forth. Women like these truly do appear to be superhuman. I've got a lot of energy, and I can really pack a lot into a day, but nothing, NOTHING, like this.

As it turns out, Slaughter ultimately felt that while she did "have it all," she also didn't. She left State after her 2 year term was up and returned home, feeling that the needs of her teen sons (in Princeton) just couldn't be met with her in Washington most of each week. And she has a terrifically engaged husband who was the primary parent when she was away! The reactions to her decision to leave government and write the essay fell largely into two camps: piteous- leaving was sad and unfortunate OR condescending- she must not have been committed enough. There were also comments along the lines of "don't do this, what kind of example will you set?!"

And this is where Sandberg was drawn in, for she feels that one of the primary reasons there aren't more women in top leadership positions is that there's an "ambition gap," that for a variety of reasons, women aren't dreaming big enough. Slaughter questions this, and so do I.

First let me say that in no way can ambition(s) be generalized among women. One's dreams are another's nightmares. One's idea of balance is another's idea of insanity-provoking mayhem. For some, motherhood is IT; for others, it's a choice about which they feel ambivalent or wholly uninterested. The same is true about women's thoughts on careers. And let me also say that I write, as do Slaughter and Sandberg, as a woman who is financially secure, able to stay home by choice, able to think about these issues in ways many others cannot. I feel inordinately grateful for that.

Though mine are not of the ilk of heading up any large corporation, I certainly do have ambitions; on the simple end of the spectrum, I'd like to read more than 2 books a year, and on the other end, I'd love to have more time, real and sustained time, to commit to cooking, catering, teaching and writing. I could have done this before I had children. Indeed, I remember those years in which I could immerse myself in my studies and interests, my job and relationships, I remember myself before kids.

But I always wanted to be an at-home mom, a really good one (an ambition in and of itself!), and I know that without my kids, I wouldn't feel complete or be the woman I am today. I might not have the same ambitions I do now, might not strive for the balance I do, might not know what for me constitutes a good and healthy and happy life.

The issue here, then, isn't one of ambition but one of balance and possibility.

Parenting children well requires an enormous amount of time, attention, love, input and creativity. If you're not doing it, someone needs to be or is, or the children will suffer. So for mothers with ambition, that's the first challenge. You've got to put your interests on hold, get some serious help in the childcare department, or find a way to work around naps and other breaks from your kids. If you're putting your stuff on hold, you're either thrilled to do so OR you're going to have to work on acceptance rather than resentment. If you find that motherhood isn't the end-all-be-all in the fulfillment department, you're going to have to reach out and get some help. This is often much more fraught than it sounds.

How do you know who to trust? Will they do it as well as you might? And are you OK if they don't? What does that even mean? What role will your partner play? Is that role good enough aka is their way acceptable in the context of your way? Can you handle leaving in the morning if kids are wrapped around your legs asking you not to go? Can you handle coming home in the evening hearing that they took their first steps or said their first words? Can you take off your parent hat, don your work hat and then switch again later?

These are really tough questions, and they're even tougher in actuality. It's one thing to do it, and it's another thing to process and act on it. As I knew I would stay at home but then found I couldn't do it 24-7, I know how hard it is to find a balance there. I can't tell you how many times I've left one of my boys with a babysitter, someone I know they like and have fun with, for just a few hours, only to have a wailing, distraught face in the window as I head away. It is wrenching and awful (although it generally lasts no more than 2 minutes because they realize it's OK and get distracted doing something else), and this is what I'm talking about regarding possibility. I can't work at home unless I leave and sneak back in through the basement. Because my kids have never been those who nap for three hours at a time, fitting more than a shower into their 45-60 minute sessions was nothing more than a pipe-dream. My ambitions have been relegated to the babysitting hours in which I hide in the basement or force them all upstairs while I cook, to the times they're at school or camp, and to the hours after they go to sleep.

Slaughter's article includes a whole section on the ways in which men and women think about their careers in the context of parenthood. In essence she says, and I agree, men just do not have -by and large- the same sense of parental urgency, for lack of a better word. Yes, fathers love their children, but most men don't do so in the same ways as do their wifely counterparts. She says:

"the proposition that women can have high-powered careers as long as their husbands or partners are willing to share the parenting load equally (or disproportionately) assumes that most women will feel as comfortable as men do about  being away from their children, as long as their partner is home with them." She has not found this to be the case, nor have most women I know.

and

"To many men...the choice to spend more time with their children, instead of working long hours on issues that affect many lives, seems selfish" to which I would add uninteresting or  not considered in the first place.

and

"If women feel deeply that turning down a promotion that would involve more travel, for instance, is the right thing to do, then the will continue to do that" because that's what's best for their children.

This is not to suggest that men suck. My husband is an involved father who listens to me and acts upon my pleas [dictates] to be more engaged (his father was not terribly involved so he had no role model for that); he spent many hours today helping Jack build a catapult and delighting, with me, in the boys' imaginative play before bedtime. He took care of breakfast and let me sleep in.

But I still maintain, as I think would Slaughter and many, many women out there, that the most basic, elemental response is, for most men and women, very different. Once our children are in bed, it's out of sight out of mind for T. He can sleep through anything, never thinks to go in and check on them, literally takes off his parenting hat when their doors are closed. He adores them, but... Extrapolate to the times he's at work, traveling etc. Me? I'm sitting here typing but also listening to every cough that emanates from Oliver's room, have already changed the diaper of one sleeping boy, checked to ensure the other isn't listening to yet another book-on-tape. I'm thinking about what to put in their lunches tomorrow, what needs to be packed in their camp bags.

In this context, it seems if not impossible than maybe frivolous to consider more than keeping my ambitions on par with my children's needs, with what I, as their mother, owe them. Here is another point I feel I have in common with Slaughter: until society changes -flexible schedules, the assumption that fathers will take paternity leave with no repercussions, the idea that "stepping down to spend time with his or her family" ISN'T a cover for being fired (see p 5), the availability of really excellent childcare that won't make you go broke, the willingness to really talk about these challenges and admit that this shit is hard - there really is a disconnect between what you might want and what you might feel you can realistically do.

As I said earlier, I don't have grandiose plans for myself and already I feel stretched to the edge much of the time. I cannot imagine how single parents, financially-challenged parents, parents who truly love and want to succeed in their fields, do it and must feel. I am happy but I would never say that anything is a breeze or that I don't feel pangs of loss and acute awareness of making hard choices every day. I do. Regularly. Frequently. It is worth it, but it is damn hard.

Can Women Have It All? has always sort of bothered me as a question. It's so nebulous, so one-dimensional. Truly, what does it even mean? The answer is different for each of us and it changes as do we. There are definite societal inequalities -women make just .77 per dollar that men make in the US; some societies don't value women at all- but by and large, I think that having it all means simply that you as a woman feel fulfilled, be it in your career, your relationships, your life choices, your sense of self. I am still searching for more balance, I think motherhood is really hard much of the time, and looking ahead, I hope that things even out some- the kids need less, I have more to give...In the meantime, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Honesty, real, authentic dialogue about these struggles helps, it connects us, diminishes differences, illuminates similarities. The most ambitious career woman and the most ambitious mother still have that drive in common.