Tag: motherhood

Own it

I recently attended the NASPA region 4E Women In Student Affairs (WISA) bi-annual drive-in conference. Before the conference, at the conference, and post-conference many of the participants were tweeting and talking about Daring Greatly by Brene Brown and Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg.

In my post-conference euphoria- you know that feeling. You go back to your job inspired and revved up to change the world- I purchased both of these books and started reading away. I drank the Kool-aid and I am so grateful I did. I read Daring Greatly while on vacation. I could not put it down. I finished Lean In about two weeks ago. I strongly suggest that anyone, woman or man, who is looking to know herself better and become an even stronger leader read both of these books. You will not regret it.

Dr. Peggy Burke of DePaul University gave an amazing and inspiring keynote presentation centered around both of these books and the idea of “owning it.” In short, women leaders often sabotage themselves by not owning their own accomplishments. We are socialized to be polite, team players who demure in the spotlight. We give credit to others for our accomplishments because taking credit is boastful or worse, bitchy.

Hearing this was like being hit upside the head with a mallet. This was more than an a-ha moment. This was an “oh my gosh, I have been doing myself a huge disservice and it explains a lot, and I need to stop doing that” moment.

Related to my own completion of my doctorate degree, I have done this for the last three years. Heck, I did it that morning at the conference! I was sitting at a table of colleagues and got chatting with the woman next to me. We shared that we are both moms, mid-career, etc. etc. She told me that is she beginning her doctoral work this fall and then she asked me, “how did you do it?” And the first words out of my mouth were, “I had help. I had an amazing partner who took on a lot…..My kids were great sleepers….I had a graduate assistantship that covered some tuition…..” All of which are completely true. And, part of the answer.

The problem is, I have let all those explanations become the answer rather than just part of it. There are many reasons for this, I am sure. I am still figuring those out. But, I am now on a personal and professional mission to claim my accomplishments, to profess them openly without boasting or bragging, and to actively encourage other women to do the same. I have a lot to contribute to whatever environment I choose to be in. And, so do you. So own it!

So, Monica. Question: “how did you finish your doctorate degree in five years, while maintaining part-time employment, have two children, shepherd one of those children through a life-threatening illness, and stay married?”

Answers:

I worked my tail off.

I had a singular, laser-like focus for five years.

I established a reading, writing, and dissertating schedule that I protected as sacred.

I am a strong writer.

I love to read and be in a classroom of fellow learners.

I was never going to allow my life circumstances to become an excuse for not finishing.

I owed it to myself to finish what I started.

I am not a quitter.

Those PhD robes are classy and I wanted them.

Once earned, an education can never be taken away from you. I earned mine. I had help. Lots of it. But I went to class, I did the work, it’s my name on that diploma. So, I am owning it.

What areas of your life do you need to own? Are there other leaders in your circle who should be encouraged to do the same? I would love to share “owning it” stories with you. Let’s connect!

Presence

We are our own worst critics. As someone who was born and raised in the fast-paced, competitive environment of the east coast, I am no exception. I am always harder on myself than anyone else.

Recently, my husband and I had the great fortune of going on an early anniversary trip. It was just the two of us. No agenda, no plans, no timelines. It was bliss. We tooled all over “Up North,” went out to dinner, went to a winery. I took some photos of our trip and posted some of them on Instagram or Facebook or Twitter. Probably all three. But, I didn’t post every one and the ones I did post weren’t in chronological order. In one of them, my hair was a mess (so, I thought) and my eyes were all squinty. Darn that sun!

Both of our boys are participating in organized sports this spring. I have taken some photos and posted a few. I should’ve posted more of them. What if someone notices that there are three photos of L but only two of C? I should get more up there. I should take a picture of C with his coach and his team at their final game tonight. I should print them out and mail them to my grandmother.

We have three beautiful lilac bushes in our front yard. They sit right under the windows in our living room. They are so huge that you can see and smell them from across the street. This is my favorite season. Our lilacs are late bloomers and they are white, not purple.

Last week, L and I were playing outside. We were tracing each other with sidewalk chalk. He gave me huge high heels in pink, my favorite color. When I traced him, I was instructed to include his hat. “Make sure you get my hat Momma. Because I am a baseball player.” While we were outside, I kept getting luscious wafts of lilac. The breeze would kick up and I could taste them on my tongue. I should’ve gotten my phone, taken a photo, and then posted it on Instagram. It would have been very artsy.

Instead, I ignored the “shoulds” and kept coloring with my son. When were done, we walked over to the lilacs together and inhaled.

I am working on presence. Physical, mental, emotional presence not social media presence. Just because I didn’t post photos for everyone else to comment on and “like” doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. There are moments that should belong to just me and my family. That’s a should I am okay with. Those lilacs sure do smell wonderful.

The “Have it All” Trap

Lately, there has been talk and backtalk about Anne-Marie Slaughter’s piece, “Why Women Still Can’t Have it All” which was printed in the July/August issue of The Atlantic. First, I will say this. I think Slaughter is spot-on. Spot on. I believe that she was courageous to say what she did and her “calling out” of the current work-life system was timely, appropriate, and necessary. Two of her statements especially resonated with me:

“I still strongly believe that women can ‘have it all’ (and that men can too). I believe that we can ‘have it all at the same time.’ But, not today, not with the way America’s economy and society are currently structured. My experiences over the past three years have forced me to confront a number of uncomfortable facts that need to be widely acknowledged- and quickly changed.”

and this:

“in short, the minute I found myself in a job that is typical for the vast majority of working women (and men), working long hours on someone else’s schedule, I could no longer be both the parent and the professional I wanted to be”

BOOM!

She spoke my very soul. That is exactly how I felt when I was a Director (most of 2011) and is exactly why I left my Director role.

YES! BRAVO! THANK YOU! Thank you for putting this out there! I think her piece was gutsy and brave. And, I appreciated hearing from another working woman who re-evaluated her life and her priorities and made a choice- a personal and professional sacrifice that works- or at least works better for now- for her and her family.

What is sad, to me, is that she felt she had to do this. For various reasons, which she outlines in her piece, Slaughter felt that she (emphasis mine) could not, in her high-level government position, be the kind of professional and mother that she wanted and need to be, and that her children wanted and needed her to be. I thought that was the intent of her piece. Obviously, I am not her. I have no idea what her intentions were. But, I read it as a commentary on her own work-life experiences and her wrestling with the negotiation (my word, not hers) of motherhood and professional life. I was excited and energized. I thought, “Wow! Yes! Maybe now we will have a real conversation about current practices, policies, and practices that have become policies, related to work-life negotiation.” Let’s talk about the “uncomfortable facts” (Slaughter’s words) that need to be changed. Let’s talk about why she felt she had to do this.

Unfortunately, my enthusiasm has already waned. The responses I am reading are ripping on Slaughter as elitist, privileged, over-achieving, not doing enough. All of which Slaughter also addresses in her piece.

One of the first responses I saw on-line was this article. In four or five paragraphs the author manages to:

1. complain about the graphic that was used- a naked toddler sitting in a briefcase. Okay. A little trite. Overused. Sure. But, really? I can’t imagine that Slaughter herself picked that graphic. And, it worked. Because you wrote about it and now thousands of other bloggers are writing about it, too.

2. bemoan the phrase “have it all.” Also trite? Also overused? Yes. Isn’t that part of Slaughter’s point? She admits that she fell into the “have it all trap” AND that she unwittingly made the generations behind her feel guilty for not achieving it all.

Finally, the author then says that the core problem with Slaughter’s article is that she frames work-life as only a woman’s issue. Okay, I am with you on this one. Currently, the work-life conversation is framed as a working-women-with-children issue. That is indeed part of the problem. (Although there are exceptions- see Brad Harrington and the new Dad study done by the Boston College Center for Work and Family).

Women are living it. Women are doing a lot of the writing and commentating about it. I think this was also Slaughter’s point.

And, sadly, women are also the ones doing most of the tearing down of other women and their choices. Which is my point here.

All of this makes me feel…overwhelmed. Annoyed. Frustrated. One woman cannot possibly be the voice for every other woman’s experience. Would we want her to be, even if she could? Slaughter wrote about her experience. I write about my experience. You write about yours. That is what makes the world go round. And, that is also what starts the dialogue and will push agendas forward.

Work-life is an issue for anyone who has a job and a life, which is pretty much, well, everyone. There absolutely needs to be more dialogue. Let’s focus on that & continue to advance the conversation.

Happiness is

June 19
How do you define happiness?
Dana

Happiness
To love and to be loved

 

 

 

 

Playing hooky with my friends

3 #ReverbBroad posts for the price of one!

June 11
If you were to play hooky from work today, what would you do instead?
Krissy

I would actually need at least four days to play hooky. One day to drive to New Jersey to pick up my sisters (my first best friends). Two days to spend at the beach, while “down the shore.” One day to drive back to reality.

While at the beach, I would sleep, read, and eat myself into oblivion. After a day of “sunbathing” (with full-on sunscreen and a huge hat, because now I know better!), we would eat seafood and drink ice-cold beer. Then, we would stroll up and down the boardwalk. I would not care that the sea air was making my hair too curly. I would eat a Kohr Brother’s orange & vanilla soft-serve custard, on a cake cone with rainbow sprinkles. I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, while the ocean lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

June 15
Who was your first best friend?
Kristen

I always struggle with questions that force me to quantify or label things. First, best, favorite…I am not a fan of absolutes. But, this absolute question was actually easy. I am fortunate to have two amazing younger sisters whom I also count on as my best friends. It was not always this way, I am sure. Of course we fought, and teased, and were mean. That is what sisters do. But, under all of that sibling stuff, there has always been genuine love and affection for each other. We have always cheered for one another. We have supported each other through break-ups (“Of course he is a jerk! Let’s burn all the stuff he ever gave you!” True story.) We stood up for each other at weddings (nice bridesmaids’ dresses) and have consoled and counseled each other through motherhood, breastfeeding, work-life negotiation, and suburbia. My mother was right, “there is nothing like a sister.”

June 17
What three things do you want more of in your life? What three things do you want less of?
Krissy

More

1. Friends. I had no idea that this time in my life would be so isolating. I have friends. My sisters. A few from high school. A few from college. One from graduate school. One from my year as a Holy Cross Associate (Americorps Volunteer). One from my first job. But, all of these people are far away. Across the country far away. I am slowly meeting people at work and at my sons’ school. But, I would not necessarily call these current people friends. I have a lot of acquaintances. I have a lot of women in loose circles whom I respect and admire. I have a lot of people that I would really like to get to know better. I have a mentor (thank GOD for her!). But right now, I would really love a soul-sister. A fellow girlfriend I can go walking with, get my nails done with, have drinks with, call up and vent about my day with. This type of friendship is hard to come by and takes time to nurture and develop.

2. Exercise. The mental and physical benefits of this are self-explanatory.

3. Organization/Motivation. Confession: I am not exactly sure what I am doing with my time these days. I feel busy all the time. Distracted. Yet, very little seems to be getting done. There is always laundry to fold, dishes to wash, toilets to scrub, a garden (first one ever) to weed and water, maternity clothes to donate, on and on and on. I don’t want to fall into whining (too late?) so I will stop here. I would love to be organized and motivated.

Less

Gold Ribbon
Kids get cancer, too!

1. Childhood cancer.

2. Childhood cancer.

3. Childhood cancer.

Self-preservation!

#ReverbBroads2012 prompt from June 7
List 8 reasons it’s okay to lie.
Katrina

1. If it preserves my personal parenting sanity. Example: Oldest is playing with whistle that sounds like a high-pitched train horn AND it lights up. I say, “that is an outside toy.” What I really mean is, “for the love of all that is good and holy get that thing away from me or I am going to lose it!” BTW, still trying to find the person who decided that said whistle was a good idea.

2. If it buys me decision-making time. Example: Boys are fighting. I only heard half the story. Child one approaches me and whines (we all know how I feel about whining!). I re-direct him to sibling. “Talk to him about it!” Truth: I have no idea what happened, or what to do about it.

3. If it keeps my children from worrying. Example: one Christmas, our little family of 4 was almost stranded in a flash blizzard on the Ohio turnpike. We were driving along just fine. The snow falling was actually quite pretty. We had to slow down, but nothing too drastic. Then, bam! Wind whipping, snow swirling everywhere, no cell phone signal, can’t see the car in front of you, white-knuckle driving. We pulled off at the next exit, which thankfully had some motels, one of which had a room and all you can eat breakfast! Boys half sleeping/half awake, in jammies and winter coats in the backseat asking, “Why are we pulling over, Daddy?” Answer: “We’re really tired and it is dark, so we are going to sleep here tonight.” Truth? “I am absolutely terrified that we are going to end up in a snow bank, so we’re getting out of here!” See? Why make them worry?

4. If it keeps my children safe from strangers, danger, or fear. Nuff said.

5. If it prolongs my children’s innocence. Our oldest is 6.5 years old. He turned 6.5  yesterday. When you are that little, that extra half is a big deal! Pretty soon he will no longer believe in Santa, the tooth fairy, etc. etc. The day of discovery is coming like a freight train and it makes me sad. As soon as he figures it out, little brother (now 4) will inevitably learn the truth,too. That’s what older brothers do, right? I remember my older brother showing me the stash in my mother’s shower. Why rob them of the innocence? Why steal the mystery, the anticipation? They will figure it out soon enough.

6. If my answer (the lie) saves me from entering into the Mommy Wars, again. In my experience, when other mothers ask questions about breastfeeding, naps, sleep training, solid foods, school, summer vacations, sports, blah blah…..they don’t really want my real opinion. I know I don’t when I ask. They want my support. So I give it. “Yes! Totally normal!” “Oooh, great idea!” They want to be reassured that they are not totally crazy (not totally, just partially like the rest of us) and that they are doing right by their children (They are. We all are.) Lying? Yep. Deceitful with intention to harm? Never.

7. If my answer helps me save face with colleagues and supervisors. Example: “Yes, I read that message. My response is in my email draft folder!” Truth: make short-hand note to self on meeting agenda, scurry back to office, find said note, decipher it’s meaning, read aforementioned email message, reply all with smiley face at end. Wipe sweat from brow. This answer is very un-professional and very un-student affairs-like. But I don’t care (lie).

8. I can’t possibly think of another reason. Actually, this is true. I am drawing a complete blank. I am sure that I will come up with more after I publish this post and read all of the other witty, insightful, and honest Broads’ stuff!

What you do speaks so loudly, that I cannot here what you say

This is the post that I submitted to the Women in Student Affairs (WISA) blog.

Growing up, my mother used to say this all the time. Like most children, I rolled my eyes and walked away. Now, I am the mother. I am also a wife; PhD; advocate for childhood cancer awareness, funding, and research; an academic specialist/advisor at an amazing Big Ten University; and a mid-career, higher education professional who is still trying to figure out who and what she wants to be when she grows up. In these roles that I negotiate, people are watching how I behave and paying less attention to what I say. On a cognitive level, I know this. In parenting and in student affairs, we lovingly refer to this as “the fish bowl effect.” We live in a glass bowl where our words, actions, and mistakes occur out in the open for all of the world to see and to judge.

It is one thing to know that people are watching me and it is quite another to let that knowledge influence my choices. My two young sons are watching everything I do. Every choice I make, whether intentionally or unintentionally, sends them a message about the choices and sacrifices I am willing to make for them and our family. My choices also show them how much I value myself and my own well-being.

I finished my doctoral studies in August 2010 and immediately began searching for “the next step” position. I had the credentials, the requisite years of experience, and the desire to be a mid-level, mid-career professional. I applied for many, many positions. On the recommendation of some colleagues, I applied for and was offered a Director-level position at a small, Catholic school. I bought some new professional clothes. With my degree in hand and self-righteous assuredness, off I went to my next step. I had made it!

I worked hard. I met some wonderful colleagues. I got to teach a first-year seminar course. I was a voting member of six or seven different university committees. I managed a quarter of a million dollar operating budget and I supervised five professional staff. On paper, it is the next step position.

That is what it looked like on the outside. On the inside, I was tired. All the time. I was spending three hours a day in my car. On a bad day in the snow, it was more like five hours. I was not exercising, ever. I never ate breakfast with my boys. I missed almost every event at their school. I missed my husband and my children. I had severely underestimated the physical, emotional, and financial toll that commuting would take on me and my family.

Worst of all, I wasn’t being true to myself because I wasn’t bringing everything I could to each of my roles. I was not living with integrity. I said to myself and to anyone who would listen that my family was most important. But, my life was not letting me be with them. When I walked in the door at 530pm every night, one of my sons would not speak to me because he suddenly realized that I wasn’t there before and he was mad. I am sure it felt like I was never there. It felt that way to me, too. Yet, every chance I got, I was touting myself as an example of someone who was successfully negotiating mid-career, family, and personal interests/passions. I was openly advocating for working mothers and mid-career professionals, “Look, I am doing it! So can you!”

Integrity is defined as: 1) adherence to moral and ethical principles, soundness of moral character, honesty; 2) the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished; and 3) a sound, unimpaired, perfect condition. I was not living a life of integrity. I was not being honest with myself or my employer. I was certainly not in a state of being whole, and I was not in perfect condition.

In November, I accepted a position at a university ten minutes from my house. I let go of my Director-level position. I gave up my seat at the Alice Manicur Symposium; hopefully another mid-level, mid-career professional was able to go and get from it all that she could. I no longer commute. I exercise at lunch now. The other day I helped a young woman with her resume and I introduced her to Twitter. These things do not make me a hero. But, they are little things that I am doing to re-align my words and my actions.

I eat breakfast with my boys every morning. Some days, I take my children to school. I am re-connecting with other working moms. When I get home, both of my boys greet me at the door and we go play, because I can. I have the time and mental energy to blog and tweet and volunteer with childhood cancer organizations about which I am passionate. I made choices that work for me and I am doing the best I can to actively live in to those choices. I am happier than I have been in almost two years.

Who is watching you? Your supervisees. Your supervisor. Your children. Your partner. Maybe a new professional is watching you and wondering if the student affairs “lifestyle” is really something s/he wants. Maybe it is a mid-career professional who is deciding between taking the leap to the “next position” and leaving the profession altogether. What are your choices telling others about who and what you value? Are you living with integrity?

Life is indeed a trade-off, a constant negotiation of roles, responsibilities, and choices. Turns out, my mother was right. What people do speaks volumes about who they are and who they value. I need to parent, lead, and work with integrity. There are two very important people watching me.

Bio
-Monica Marcelis Fochtman, Ph.D. is an academic specialist at Michigan State University. She is married with two young children. She also volunteers with the St. Baldrick’s Foundation, raising money and awareness for childhood cancer research.

Connect with Monica on Twitter: at @monicamfochtman or email mfochtman@hc.msu.edu