Comments on Motherhood After Tenure: the sabbatical ends

• the fatigue of demand
• Posted by Marlene Tromp , Professor of English and Women's Studies at Denison on August 20, 2009 at 12:00pm EDT

• Here's the eerie parallel: watching someone else's kid, who's wild, charming, and energetic, can be a hoot, but your own kid, however much you adore him or her, can bring you down with relentless demands that aren't mediated by a desire to please and be charming (we're too safe, as mommies, to merit that kind of consistent care). So, too, the constant demands of the institution when we're not reading and writing because we love it, but because we're under demand and constant scrutiny. Is that book done? Is that article done? Is my paper graded yet? Doesn't mean we don't love both--our own kid and the job--very much. It's just never getting a break from the demands that wears us out. I should speak for myself here: wears *me* out. Also, as it's been said so well here before, it's that new academic drama of being the mommy and the professor, the maid-of-all-work and the bringer of the bacon. Whew. I'm bidding my sabbatical adieu too, and I know I'll love interacting with the students and connecting with the energetic life of the college, but I also know I'll be so tired again, and I won't have someone to make me dinner when I get home at night or entertain the kids, like my emeriti colleagues did in their day. Living life to the fullest--to overflowing. Good luck, this year, Aeron.

• Divided and Conquered
• Posted , Associate Professor, English at UW-Green Bay on August 20, 2009 at 1:45pm EDT

• I really love this post, and I'm so glad my colleague and friend has had a relaxing, well-earned sabbatical.  Yet as one of Aeron's colleagues, and a mother of two toddlers (ages 1 and 2), I have a rather simple explanation for my harriedness: load. 

  Reading of Aeron's 1:1 conversation with a young Austen fan in a bookstore (however unsuccessful), I'm reminded of my own lovely, singular conversations with students at coffeeshops, during advising sessions, or during Independent Studies.  Even on campus, as we work under contract, such conversations are possible, wonderful, and to be savored. 

  They are also exceptional, because what we more often do is work in bulk, not one-on-one, with non-fans about literature (or other topics) they view to be required, not savored.  What we do more often is talk to many, many of them at a time, per our already-high enrollment caps at a state university, and try to find ways to invite all of them-- with varying levels of skill and practice-- into academic conversations. And what we do more often to is teach them how to have those conversations at the same time we're leading them-- and then, we grade their efforts.  

  Personally, my own harriedness comes from volume.  Our load is 4-3 (and we have it better than many of our peers at other institutions) with mostly writing-intensive courses, which adds time and weight to the grading process, even if our classes meet in discussion circles and not vast lecture halls. Even teaching the perceived-as-cushy-and-fun creative writing courses becomes laborious when you're assessing and commenting upon 50 short stories at a time-- and by example, teaching students how to comment upon the work of peers. Talking with, grading, and simply paying attention to-- let alone teaching-- hundreds of students each term is work, and it's a different experience than the wonderful self-determined focus a sabbatical affords. 

  To extend Marlene's great motherhood analogy, I'm much more fun and patient with my children one-on-one than when we're all together and I'm protecting one from the other, or trying to appear attentive to both at the same time, or trying to validate the accomplishments of each simultaneously (as in: "Good job, 1 year old! You're reading your older sister's book! Oh no, your older sister's book! Good job, 2 year old, for asking for your book before hitting your baby sister!" etc. etc.).   My students are not equivalent to my children, thankfully, but my divided focus--and my sense of having to pay attention on various levels and constantly comment on performance, and then do committee work, advising, writing, and so on--does occasionally conquer me.

  (Gosh. I hope Aeron still returns after reading this comment...!)

• Posted by Kim Gutschow , Lecturer, Depts of Anthropology and Religion at Williams College on August 21, 2009 at 6:15am EDT

• I want to second Dr. Tromp's comment--there is great benefit to watching it all from afar, whether it be the chaos of family life & kids, the hectic demands of work, or marriage for that matter. This is why we all need a break. So why did it take 20 years for your institution to give you a sabbatical?

  It might be said that rather than whining about sabbaticals, we should be grateful for any academic job in this time of economic crisis. Yet this attitude easily slips into a quiet accommodation with business as usual, regardless of how fair or unfair it may be. I think these are times more than ever that we should question policies that seem unbalanced or unfair, be they benefits to faculty/staff, the difficulty of work/life balance issues (dismissed by the Wall Street Journal but still worth improving I'd say), or courseload and schedule issues. If "your obstacles can be your opportunities", to quote a Buddhist saying, then this period of economic crisis could be one of great upheaval but also significant changes. SOmetimes things do need to get worse, precisely so they can get better. I suggest we stare these times boldly down and suggest even more far-reaching changes than are already being instituted piecemeal in the name of saving money.

  I may be feeling so bold because I, too, am coming off a summer break in Europe, where life is indeed slower and more accomodating to work/life balance I would add. So here is to distance for keeping us sane!

• Daddy Ph.D. (or at least pursuing one)
• Posted by Jason , Doctoral Student at UTK on August 21, 2009 at 9:15am EDT

• Thank you for writing this blog. I just stumbled upon it and have found it very refreshing and encouraging. It seems, however, to overlook a minority group in the academy -- dads who take on an equal share of the child-rearing responsibilities. (I understand this blog is written for a specific audience, so my comment is not a critique as much as it is an additional voice to the conversation.)

  I recently finished my masters degree in May, and am currently working on my Ph.D. in history at the University of Tennessee. My wife and I have two children, 3 and 1. In order to save on childcare costs, I actually stayed home with one or both of the kids three out of the last four semesters of my masters work. This past semester (spring 09), I kept both of them (all day) while finishing my thesis and taking an intensive reading course. This semester was by far the most difficult four months of my schooling to date. I could only read or write in the early morning (between 5 and 6 am), during naptime, and after bedtime. Naptime lasted anywhere from one to three hours, which meant I could rarely execute a strict work plan for writing or reading during the day. If this was not hard enough, the mental shifts I performed were quite challenging; that is, moving from Elmo's world to thesis to playing blocks within a span of two hours.

  My wife did as much as she could, but she teaches at a local elementary school (and is the "bread-winner" although I have a part-time job); therefore, her responsibilities often required her to stay late at school, and she often arrived home tired and stressed. Many times, she got the kids ready for bed so I could do some extra work, but this was not consistent. (Nothing really is consistent with kids, is it?)

  With the start of my doctoral work, I have the benefit of gaining a quiet house during the day. Our 3 year old has started pre-school at my wife's elementary school, and our 1 year old is in a great daycare. However, come 4-5pm each day, my focus shifts from school to dad/husband for the rest of the night (minus, maybe, an hour of reading before bed).

  Some dads, therefore, also struggle with the constant tension between academy and home. As a father who has been a "stay-at-home-dad-student" the pressure can be very draining and discouraging. I wonder if there are other fathers out there, who read this blog, that feel the same stresses.

  Thanks again for the blog! I simply wanted to contribute some insight from the fatherhood perspective.

• to Jason
• Posted by Aeron on August 22, 2009 at 5:00pm EDT

• Jason,

  Thanks for your comments! You are right; this blog is about balancing *parenthood* with academia and we welcome comments from fathers, particularly those, like you, who are taking primary responsibility for raising their children. Personally, I think that the policies toward families will only change once childcare ceases to be regarded as a "female" job.

  Most of the families I know would welcome the chance to share childcare--and part-time work with decent benefits to make this possible.

  Thanks for contributing to the conversation!

  Aeron