Saturday, March 31, 2012
Repost: Collaborations on the Tenure Track
(The original post is here.)
When you are being put up for promotion to associate professor with tenure, your record is subject to intense scrutiny (tenure review). Typically, this happens in your 6th year, but depending on school, department, and your record, you may be put up a year or even two earlier, or even a year or more later due to the tenure clock extension for family reasons. At many universities, early promotions are very rare.
The most important part of your tenure package at research universities is, well, your research: your publications, grants, and awards. (Teaching and service are very important too, and probably more important at SLACs, but that may be another post...)
When I started tenure track, I asked around what type of productivity is expected; I actually expected a number -- someone to say "If you publish at least n papers per year, you will be fine," but that never happened. People would usually say something vague like "We want you to show a strong record of publication, to build a viable research group, to have enough money to support your group..." So I figured I won't get a straight answer, and instead I went on my own and researched recently tenured people in my area at my Uni and peer institutions, and figured out what n should be in my field.
Now, in addtion to the total output per unit time, the composition of your papers is important too. Your research output (papers in journals and/or conferences) is supposed to resemble a food pyramid: lots of fruits, vegetables, and grains (your own group's papers), a fair amount of lean protein (collaborations you have established while on tenure track), fats and sweets only sparingly [papers with old advisor(s)]. Therefore, it is widely expected that the vast majority of your papers will be your own group's papers, with the lead senior author (typicallly listed last in the author list) being you and the lead junior author (typically listed first) being your student or postdoc. Generally, if your intellectual offspring is first author, it's considered *your* paper.
The tricky part are collaborations. Your external letter writers -- people who are supposed to assess your work and ideally know it well but often don't -- will be asked to evaluate your contribution to the field, and that also means evaluating how much you contributed to your collaborative efforts. Sometimes that can be quite hard to do, when people's expertises overlap. Junior faculty are in danger of not being assertive enough on collaborations with senior faculty [here I assume it's not your advisor(s), but one or more of collaborators that you teamed up with while on tenure track], and two things often happen: (a) you have a senior collaborator on some of your papers for what are more-or-less courtesy reasons, they are not contributing tremendously or are peripheral to the paper but won't remove themselves from the author list either, and you are uncomfortable to remove them yourself, (b) the senior collaborator is always last author, warranted or not.
Either way, you run the risk of your good, hard work being associated solely with the most senior or most famous person in the auhtor list; this will certainly happen if they occupy the 'lead senior author' position, but even if they don't (this happened to me), because, owing to their fame, their name is already in people's minds and thus most easily associated with a piece of work. So be procative about removing courtesy coauthors (I know, it's unethical to even put them on unless they contributed significantly, but junior people often feel they owe stuff to senior people so these coauthorships tend to linger). I recommend being open about it: "Dr Famous, you know I am on tenure track, and we have done some nice work together, but as I am sure you know people will be trying to judge my own contribution, so I would like to pursue this line of work where my contribution will be unambiguous and separated from your work."
To avoid having your collaborative work associated with more prominent senior collaborators, make sure people know what YOU are have contributed. Talk to whomever wants to listen about the great work that you are doing, and insist on being credited explicitly in the talks given by your senior collaborators - usually people will do it on their own, but you never know. Also, traveling on tenure track to give talks is very important, so people can get to know you. If you start having children while on tenure track, you may have to cut back temporarily, but try to at least do the Tenure Tour -- usually a 5th year tour where you try to go and visit most of the places where letter writers for your tenure case are likely to be chosen from. (You may need to 'invite' yourself to a couple of places, but more on that some other time...)
Another related thing that must be done is weaning yourself from your former advisor(s). I was told that it is OK to wrap up papers you still have unfinished from your previous position, but that this should not continue past a year or two on tenure track. I had a talk very early on with my former advisor, in which I said I was expected to cut him off and he said no problem, and we agreed on which paper would be our last together.
When the time comes to write your research statement (a typical part of tenure package), make sure you can say succinctly what it is that you (and your group) did as part of every collaboration.
Collaborations are a means of creating some -- if not all!-- of the best science around, they can be lots of fun, and truly inspirational (more in another post). To the university, collaborative papers show that you can play well with other kids. Just make sure the other kids don't get the credit that's rightfully yours.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Repost: What Brings You Down?
(The original post and comments are here.)
A few days ago, FCS posted a couple of Donald Knuth quotes that cheered me up quite a bit. I didn't know much about Knuth, except that he's one of the big names in computer science and the father of TeX (I am a faithful Latex user). The post prompted me to go look up Knuth and I ended up on his personal webpage at Stanford, where he's a retired professor. According to his page, he no longer uses email (which he considers important for "people who like to stay on top of things", whereas he likes to be "at the bottom of things"). He seems to conduct most communication through his secretary and checks pertinent correspondence quite infrequently, every few months or so. Now that he is retired, he's apparently fully devoted to working on his book "The Art of Computer Programming", and needs large uninterrupted chunks of time.
This got me thinking about how I spend my busy days at work, how unfulfilling my job seems at times, and what the reasons may be. (Other bloggers often write about the challenges of PI-dom; a couple of recent posts are Drug Monkey's and Professor in Training's posts.)
Let me make one thing clear: I don't dislike the nontechnical parts of being a PI. I enjoy teaching and advising students, and I love writing in all forms (no, I don't really hate writing grants; I just hate it when they get rejected). Yet, the absence of technical work does leave a void inside. I am a theorist, so I don't do experiments/spend time at the bench, but the equivalent is doing calculations (analytical and numerical) myself. I don't have a lot of time to do them any more, and I miss that. And I think I am getting progressively stupider, as I think my technical skills are deteriorating. Since the time I can devote to technical work is so limited, it takes me a lot to focus, and when I do, I feel restless, impatient, because I know I only have the odd hour here and there and it's never enough to take a good bite of any problem, and there is always something else that needs to be done right after. These excursions into the technical feel like I am sneaking out to do something naughty and fun. It has been more than 2 years since I wrote my last single-author paper. I really miss that. I publish pretty prolifically with students and collaborators, but there is nothing quite like publishing a single-author paper. No coauthors to cushion the blow of rejection, but also no one to have to compromise with. It's a bit like having some alone time at home amidst having to take care of everyone else's needs.
There are other aspects of PI-dom that seem to really bring me down, but I don't know if you can both be a successful "manager" (which is what I am now) and not do them. One of them is being in touch with people: I get a ton of emails every day, as I am sure all faculty do. On an average workday, the number is likely around 50 or so. The lure of the infernal email is that is gives you the illusion of being productive without actually having to engage your brain. Also, when you have multiple collaborative grants due within two months and have all these students to advise and have a large undergrad class to teach, someone always has stuff they want to ask you and they typically need answers ASAP. It takes the willpower, which I typically don't have, to disengage, and I can never do it for a long stretch of time. I find myself really envious of Donald Knuth for successfully ditching the email habit. But I suppose that's a perk of being retired.
I think the size of my group is an issue (9 people, of which 1 postdoc), it's simply too big for me to have any time when someone isn't asking for something. (If none of the zillion grants I have pending gets funded, the group will eventually implode so I guess the size won't be an issue any more. Some silver lining, huh?) On the other hand, I think my students are much happier in a larger group than a smaller one. Group meetings are more meaningful to have with a larger group, and there are more projects altogether so the students see a variety of subfields, and they have more of a support group. This group morale is quite important and I think it's pretty high in the group I have now, and I think it has to do at least in part with the group size. Strength in numbers, if you will.
While good for students, the size of the group I have now may be detrimental to my own morale. I spend a lot of time on 1-on-1 meetings in addition to group meetings, which is all necessary for the students' steady progress, and when you superimpose on it all the teaching, office hours, and other meetings (for collaborations or committees), the day is easily eaten up by activities that don't necessarily engage one's cognitive abilities. Which brings me back to not being able to fully engage intellectually in any of the projects I am on, and thus not derive much pleasure from them, and thus end up unfulfilled and bored. with. everything. I. do. Even though other people think the work is all really cool, I feel superficial and unworthy.
Then there is recognition: being laser focused on a narrow area of research, which you milk for years for all it's worth, is way better if you want to make a name for yourself than being a jack of all trades. (After serving on several awards committees, there is no doubt in my mind that this is so.) Unfortunately, I am one who likes to work on lots of different projects, publish several cool papers on each topic, and then get bored and move on. There is no doubt I have research ADD. Still, it's quite demoralizing to know that the way I like to do science is not the way by which one maximizes recognition.
There are other aspects that bring stress and dissatisfaction (short or long term) to a professorial job, such as the uncertainty of grant funding, for TT faculty -- the uncertainty of getting tenure, poor quality of students, and I am sure many others. So, it makes sense to conclude with a poll: if you are a PI, what are the things that contribute most to you feeling down about your job? Since I know we would all pick each one of these at one time or another, I would like you to pick no more than three most demoralizing parts of your job. (If you check "other", please leave a comment specifying which aspect you have in mind.)
A few days ago, FCS posted a couple of Donald Knuth quotes that cheered me up quite a bit. I didn't know much about Knuth, except that he's one of the big names in computer science and the father of TeX (I am a faithful Latex user). The post prompted me to go look up Knuth and I ended up on his personal webpage at Stanford, where he's a retired professor. According to his page, he no longer uses email (which he considers important for "people who like to stay on top of things", whereas he likes to be "at the bottom of things"). He seems to conduct most communication through his secretary and checks pertinent correspondence quite infrequently, every few months or so. Now that he is retired, he's apparently fully devoted to working on his book "The Art of Computer Programming", and needs large uninterrupted chunks of time.
This got me thinking about how I spend my busy days at work, how unfulfilling my job seems at times, and what the reasons may be. (Other bloggers often write about the challenges of PI-dom; a couple of recent posts are Drug Monkey's and Professor in Training's posts.)
Let me make one thing clear: I don't dislike the nontechnical parts of being a PI. I enjoy teaching and advising students, and I love writing in all forms (no, I don't really hate writing grants; I just hate it when they get rejected). Yet, the absence of technical work does leave a void inside. I am a theorist, so I don't do experiments/spend time at the bench, but the equivalent is doing calculations (analytical and numerical) myself. I don't have a lot of time to do them any more, and I miss that. And I think I am getting progressively stupider, as I think my technical skills are deteriorating. Since the time I can devote to technical work is so limited, it takes me a lot to focus, and when I do, I feel restless, impatient, because I know I only have the odd hour here and there and it's never enough to take a good bite of any problem, and there is always something else that needs to be done right after. These excursions into the technical feel like I am sneaking out to do something naughty and fun. It has been more than 2 years since I wrote my last single-author paper. I really miss that. I publish pretty prolifically with students and collaborators, but there is nothing quite like publishing a single-author paper. No coauthors to cushion the blow of rejection, but also no one to have to compromise with. It's a bit like having some alone time at home amidst having to take care of everyone else's needs.
There are other aspects of PI-dom that seem to really bring me down, but I don't know if you can both be a successful "manager" (which is what I am now) and not do them. One of them is being in touch with people: I get a ton of emails every day, as I am sure all faculty do. On an average workday, the number is likely around 50 or so. The lure of the infernal email is that is gives you the illusion of being productive without actually having to engage your brain. Also, when you have multiple collaborative grants due within two months and have all these students to advise and have a large undergrad class to teach, someone always has stuff they want to ask you and they typically need answers ASAP. It takes the willpower, which I typically don't have, to disengage, and I can never do it for a long stretch of time. I find myself really envious of Donald Knuth for successfully ditching the email habit. But I suppose that's a perk of being retired.
I think the size of my group is an issue (9 people, of which 1 postdoc), it's simply too big for me to have any time when someone isn't asking for something. (If none of the zillion grants I have pending gets funded, the group will eventually implode so I guess the size won't be an issue any more. Some silver lining, huh?) On the other hand, I think my students are much happier in a larger group than a smaller one. Group meetings are more meaningful to have with a larger group, and there are more projects altogether so the students see a variety of subfields, and they have more of a support group. This group morale is quite important and I think it's pretty high in the group I have now, and I think it has to do at least in part with the group size. Strength in numbers, if you will.
While good for students, the size of the group I have now may be detrimental to my own morale. I spend a lot of time on 1-on-1 meetings in addition to group meetings, which is all necessary for the students' steady progress, and when you superimpose on it all the teaching, office hours, and other meetings (for collaborations or committees), the day is easily eaten up by activities that don't necessarily engage one's cognitive abilities. Which brings me back to not being able to fully engage intellectually in any of the projects I am on, and thus not derive much pleasure from them, and thus end up unfulfilled and bored. with. everything. I. do. Even though other people think the work is all really cool, I feel superficial and unworthy.
Then there is recognition: being laser focused on a narrow area of research, which you milk for years for all it's worth, is way better if you want to make a name for yourself than being a jack of all trades. (After serving on several awards committees, there is no doubt in my mind that this is so.) Unfortunately, I am one who likes to work on lots of different projects, publish several cool papers on each topic, and then get bored and move on. There is no doubt I have research ADD. Still, it's quite demoralizing to know that the way I like to do science is not the way by which one maximizes recognition.
There are other aspects that bring stress and dissatisfaction (short or long term) to a professorial job, such as the uncertainty of grant funding, for TT faculty -- the uncertainty of getting tenure, poor quality of students, and I am sure many others. So, it makes sense to conclude with a poll: if you are a PI, what are the things that contribute most to you feeling down about your job? Since I know we would all pick each one of these at one time or another, I would like you to pick no more than three most demoralizing parts of your job. (If you check "other", please leave a comment specifying which aspect you have in mind.)
Monday, March 26, 2012
Panella Bread
What can I say? I love stupid puns. You know, panels fund research, feed people... Plus there is actually a Panera Bread in the food court across the street from the NSF.
Anyhow, I was recently on a panel at an NSF directorate to which I don't usually submit proposals, but which is close to my expertise. It was an interesting experience.
There is a marked difference in the funding rate (it's about twice that of My Division). That made all the difference in the tone of discussion. At the Other Division panel, we were actually able to fund all the ones that were considered not to have major flaws. In contrast, at the last panel in My Division, the fight was very vicious about getting to pick N, instead of N+1, for final funding.
It is natural to consider a PI's track record, and it is human to be a bit star-struck when reading a proposal by a BigShot. But, in My Division, if a person is extremely well-funded, that generally reduces their priority for funding. Not so much in Other Division -- we ended up funding a person with 10+ massive active grants. I must say that if leaves a bad taste in my mouth to give the precious and scarce NSF resources to someone who commands such immense funds already. Some people were saying "Well, track record!" Of course the PI has a massive track record, they have a veritable army at their disposal! Why don't we just forgo panels, take the money and distribute it to the top 5 schools, because "track record!" and be done with it. I am sure those guys would find some use for it.
There is a significant difference in the proposal layout. Prior NSF support, a necessary ingredient of every proposal, is just a pro forma blurb on panels in My Division, and is usually in the back of the proposal. In contrast, there are several pages of detailed description of prior work near the beginning of every proposal in Other Division (even if the proposal didn't really rely on prior NSF work). This was an interesting and unexpected aspect.
Another difference is the broader impact. In My Division, questions always arise why there isn't something specific to the actual proposal that the PI will do for broader impact, something new. It is not considered sufficient to just keep doing what you are already doing. In Other Division, when I brought this up, I was quickly told that it was not fair to ask people to do more when they are already doing enough. Overall, the broader impacts in My Division are considerably more detailed and I would say stronger than in Other Division.
One thing I liked at the Other Division panel is that the panel seemed more likely to give a chance to an irreverent, exciting topic, even if the proposal was not perfectly written. In contrast, I cannot say that I have seen a proposal get funded in My Division that wasn't very well-written.
Apart from the differences above, the panels functioned in pretty much the same way, with the panel going over the proposals and a rough ranking on the first day, and the second day devoted to the final ranking and the clean-up of the panel summary statements. People argued for and against proposals, it was lively and interesting. We were all exposed to a lot of very nice science. Overall, serving on the panel at Other Division was a nice experience that has opened my eyes to some on the unexpected differences between divisions.
So get in touch with your program director (the one to whose program you think you will be submitting proposals), get to know him/her, and try to get invited to serve on his/her panel. That is the best way to learn how to write proposals that said program will fund.
Note: I will be on blogging hiatus in the next several weeks, because I have an overwhelming amount of work. I will try to repost old stuff about twice a week during this period.
Anyhow, I was recently on a panel at an NSF directorate to which I don't usually submit proposals, but which is close to my expertise. It was an interesting experience.
There is a marked difference in the funding rate (it's about twice that of My Division). That made all the difference in the tone of discussion. At the Other Division panel, we were actually able to fund all the ones that were considered not to have major flaws. In contrast, at the last panel in My Division, the fight was very vicious about getting to pick N, instead of N+1, for final funding.
It is natural to consider a PI's track record, and it is human to be a bit star-struck when reading a proposal by a BigShot. But, in My Division, if a person is extremely well-funded, that generally reduces their priority for funding. Not so much in Other Division -- we ended up funding a person with 10+ massive active grants. I must say that if leaves a bad taste in my mouth to give the precious and scarce NSF resources to someone who commands such immense funds already. Some people were saying "Well, track record!" Of course the PI has a massive track record, they have a veritable army at their disposal! Why don't we just forgo panels, take the money and distribute it to the top 5 schools, because "track record!" and be done with it. I am sure those guys would find some use for it.
There is a significant difference in the proposal layout. Prior NSF support, a necessary ingredient of every proposal, is just a pro forma blurb on panels in My Division, and is usually in the back of the proposal. In contrast, there are several pages of detailed description of prior work near the beginning of every proposal in Other Division (even if the proposal didn't really rely on prior NSF work). This was an interesting and unexpected aspect.
Another difference is the broader impact. In My Division, questions always arise why there isn't something specific to the actual proposal that the PI will do for broader impact, something new. It is not considered sufficient to just keep doing what you are already doing. In Other Division, when I brought this up, I was quickly told that it was not fair to ask people to do more when they are already doing enough. Overall, the broader impacts in My Division are considerably more detailed and I would say stronger than in Other Division.
One thing I liked at the Other Division panel is that the panel seemed more likely to give a chance to an irreverent, exciting topic, even if the proposal was not perfectly written. In contrast, I cannot say that I have seen a proposal get funded in My Division that wasn't very well-written.
Apart from the differences above, the panels functioned in pretty much the same way, with the panel going over the proposals and a rough ranking on the first day, and the second day devoted to the final ranking and the clean-up of the panel summary statements. People argued for and against proposals, it was lively and interesting. We were all exposed to a lot of very nice science. Overall, serving on the panel at Other Division was a nice experience that has opened my eyes to some on the unexpected differences between divisions.
So get in touch with your program director (the one to whose program you think you will be submitting proposals), get to know him/her, and try to get invited to serve on his/her panel. That is the best way to learn how to write proposals that said program will fund.
Note: I will be on blogging hiatus in the next several weeks, because I have an overwhelming amount of work. I will try to repost old stuff about twice a week during this period.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Absolutely Terrifying
Articles like this one make me want to emigrate again; go back to Europe or to Australia or Japan... Or the fuckin' Moon. Someplace where the question of legal abortion as a basic right of a woman has been settled and is not forever used as a mouthwash of whoever is the political flavor of the week
http://freethoughtblogs.com/lovejoyfeminism/2012/03/19/my-rights-as-a-pregnant-woman-or-the-lack-thereof/
I cannot describe how viscerally I despise religious fundamentalists.
In fact, while I recognize and appreciate an individual's need for spirituality, I have a deep, deep distaste for all organized religion (yes, I understand that going to church does not equate with being a nutcase and that there are plenty of decent people who would never think of encroaching on other people's lives and freedoms.)
The USA was supposed to be the most progressive place on Earth, the leader of the free world. Instead, it increasingly appears to be a backwater cesspool of religious fanaticism, with misogyny and xenophobia that come come with it. Why are the nuts allowed a public voice? Where are all the reasonable people? The answer "They are there but they are too nice so you cannot hear them because the crazies are so much louder" is just not acceptable.
For those not familiar with Hammel on Trial,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamell_on_Trial
http://www.hamelltv.com/
here's a bit that comes to mind
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E5NzP_yPaNc&feature=artist
"You take a low road, I'll take a lower road..."
Because being nice and reasonable doesn't seem to be working very well.
http://freethoughtblogs.com/lovejoyfeminism/2012/03/19/my-rights-as-a-pregnant-woman-or-the-lack-thereof/
I cannot describe how viscerally I despise religious fundamentalists.
In fact, while I recognize and appreciate an individual's need for spirituality, I have a deep, deep distaste for all organized religion (yes, I understand that going to church does not equate with being a nutcase and that there are plenty of decent people who would never think of encroaching on other people's lives and freedoms.)
The USA was supposed to be the most progressive place on Earth, the leader of the free world. Instead, it increasingly appears to be a backwater cesspool of religious fanaticism, with misogyny and xenophobia that come come with it. Why are the nuts allowed a public voice? Where are all the reasonable people? The answer "They are there but they are too nice so you cannot hear them because the crazies are so much louder" is just not acceptable.
For those not familiar with Hammel on Trial,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamell_on_Trial
http://www.hamelltv.com/
here's a bit that comes to mind
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E5NzP_yPaNc&feature=artist
"You take a low road, I'll take a lower road..."
Because being nice and reasonable doesn't seem to be working very well.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
A Short and Ranty Post, Because It's Spring
Gaaaaah! So stressed out, so pissed, and it's no one's fault but mine. It's good that no one's around, as I may actually bite.
I am going to the NSF to yet another panel, and am having a really hard time forcing myself to go through the assigned proposals. Don't ask me why I am going to two panels in less than two months -- I am an idiot and a masochist, that's why.
The weather is gorgeous outside yet I am sitting in a darkened room in front of a computer feeling the blood pressure rising, going through people's proposals. And I don't even know why I am so pissed. Perhaps because yet again I have way too much to do and too little time to do it and have no one to blame but myself.
And it's not the fault of the poor proposers -- I know all too well how much hinges on this panel for each one of them.
I am a service sucker for punishment, that's what I am, trying to be a good citizen of the scientific community...
I am really sick of not having enough time to do anything I enjoy or anything of substance. There is so much crap flying at me all the effing time, just deflecting it is a full time job. This week alone (note: it's only Tuesday) I have already declined 5 requests to review papers. Five! WTF?!
I am organizing a conference in my subfield, now there's an exercise in pain. Hunting down poster boards, looking at menus, sending letters to people who need to apply for a visa. You guessed it, none of it requires a PhD. A faculty job it a surefire way to turn you from a scientist into an overpaid secretary.
I am getting stupider by the minute in this career of mine that's supposed to be the academic dream. And can't even go outside to walk in the sun.
Service sucks... the life out of you.
Grrrrrraaaarrrggh!
I am going to the NSF to yet another panel, and am having a really hard time forcing myself to go through the assigned proposals. Don't ask me why I am going to two panels in less than two months -- I am an idiot and a masochist, that's why.
The weather is gorgeous outside yet I am sitting in a darkened room in front of a computer feeling the blood pressure rising, going through people's proposals. And I don't even know why I am so pissed. Perhaps because yet again I have way too much to do and too little time to do it and have no one to blame but myself.
And it's not the fault of the poor proposers -- I know all too well how much hinges on this panel for each one of them.
I am a service sucker for punishment, that's what I am, trying to be a good citizen of the scientific community...
I am really sick of not having enough time to do anything I enjoy or anything of substance. There is so much crap flying at me all the effing time, just deflecting it is a full time job. This week alone (note: it's only Tuesday) I have already declined 5 requests to review papers. Five! WTF?!
I am organizing a conference in my subfield, now there's an exercise in pain. Hunting down poster boards, looking at menus, sending letters to people who need to apply for a visa. You guessed it, none of it requires a PhD. A faculty job it a surefire way to turn you from a scientist into an overpaid secretary.
I am getting stupider by the minute in this career of mine that's supposed to be the academic dream. And can't even go outside to walk in the sun.
Service sucks... the life out of you.
Grrrrrraaaarrrggh!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
MOWM 3: The IWD feMOMhist Carnival Edition -- Balance? What Balance?
*This is my entry for feMOMhist's International Women's Day carnival, intended to inspire girls to 'have it all' -- both a career and a family life.*
When people ask me "How do you do it all?" I usually answer "Very poorly." Having kids and a career is not for people who can't relinquish control. Chaos is inherent to having young kids, and if you ask me that's one of their best qualities. You just have to embrace it.
My best friend from grad school is half of a dual-income-no-kids (DINK) couple. He and his wife both have big salaries, raise several dogs, travel to exotic places. They are living the life I would love for my Dear Husband (DH) and me... Once we turn 60.
Having both a career and a family is certainly possible, don't let anyone tell you differently. But there is no work-family or work-life "balance"; balance is a boring word anyway, implies that things are static, immobile -- think balanced scales or a well-balanced meal (booooring!). If I do have balance, it is only over months or years. On the timescales of days or weeks, my life is often profoundly out of balance. There are the sick-kid days, where that's all that consumes your life. Then there are the grant proposal deadlines and travel-for-work or hosting-a-visitor days, where it is decidedly all about work.
I have a full, colorful, wonderful life. There is incredible joy and incredible frustration.
Over months or years, when I look back upon my life, I feel happy and I feel like I have a good amount of time with the kids as well as to devote to work. I do not feel ecstatic all the time; I get joyful and giddy and tired and pissed and excited and disappointed and everything else that humans get.
Life with kids and a demanding career is many things, but NEVER BORING.
I was going for a long and profound post, but I happen to be extremely sleepy, so I will leave you with a small glimpse into DH's and my daily schedule. As you'll see, it's nothing spectacular. We do go to bed relatively late and forgo the lengthy morning routine (which seems to be common) in favor of a before-bedtime one.
This year is a bit unusual as I am on sabbatical + have an 8-month-old Baby:
During the night, I nurse Baby once (when I am lucky) or twice. Eldest Boy (EB) gets up at 6:30, leaves for the bus at 7:05. DH gets up with him to give him breakfast etc., then DH proceeds to nap in my ultracomfy office chair. (DH is not a morning person. He has been doing the early morning this year as a courtesy to my zombified sleep-deprived breastfeeding self; next school year, after I am done nursing, I will do the 6:30 wake-up). Middle Boy (MB) gets up anywhere between 6:30 and 7:30, Baby and I get up at 7:30 (if Baby's not already awake due to being hungry/wet or sick). I nurse Baby, get ready for kickboxing class while he crawls and plays on the floor around me. DH may take Middle Boy to daycare, I take Baby, or I take both; if the latter, I am done dropping them off around 8:40. I eat a banana in my car, check/answer email on the phone, go to kickboxing class 9-9:45 (close to home). Shower then pump breastmilk (around 10:30), then start working. Since I am on sabbatical, I either work in my home office or go to work for meetings; at 4 it's time to pick up Baby, who then gets nursed and takes an hour-long nap before dinner. Between 10:30 am and 4 pm, I pump once more (around 1:30), Eldest Boy comes back from middle school around 3, sometimes goes to a friend's, sometimes friends come over, so I may have to stop work to feed hungry preteens snacks or chauffeur them around. Twice a week Eldest and Middle Boy have swimming (1 hr for EB, 30 min for MB) circa 5:45. DH picks up Middle Boy between 5:15 and 5:45, early on days when they go swimming. On one (but not both) of the swimming days, DH and the two older boys go to the food court at a nearby mall for a junky dinner. While Baby naps I start dinner, we usually eat around 6:30, depending on the day and how elaborate the meal is. Older kids play video games or watch TV or we all play with Baby till about 8, when I put Baby to sleep (bath, nursing, bedtime). DH puts Middle Boy to bed next, around 8:30, except on Mon and Thu, when DH, an avid World of Warcraft player, has scheduled raids. On those days I try to put Middle Boy to bed. Eldest Boy does his own bedtime routine (which involves showering, as well as nasal sprays and asthma inhalers) and should be asleep by 9:30 (ideally).
DH and I stay up late. On the nights he raids with his WoW buddies, I work 9-12 or till 1. On other nights we may see a show, it depends on how much work I have to do; DH goofs around on the web or plays WoW or watches something on his own (he avoids working at home). I go to bed around midnight. DH and I have our grooming routines (showers, shaving etc) at night, which I guess is relatively unusual from what I have read. But it saves us time in the morning and enables us to pull off later wake-up times and later bedtimes and we get more quality time with the kids in the evening.
On Saturdays and Sundays, DH sleeps in quite late, while I am up with the kids; the older two are good about getting up and entertaining themselves with electronic gadgets before I get up with Baby. DH does the laundry, I do the grocery shopping, usually with Baby in tow, and usually Sunday afternoon. EB has a drama class Saturday afternoon, DH and MB take him and wait for him while having coffee at a nearby downtown coffee shop; during that time, Baby and I are at home, Baby sleeps and I can get some work done. I also work on Saturday and Sunday nights after the kids' bedtimes, although I might skip one and spend some time watching a movie with DH. EB has of late started asking to stay later on Fri and Sat, which cuts into DH's and my grownup time... I make all the lunches for DH and EB on Sunday for the whole week -- that's a lot of sandwiches, but saves a lot of time during the week.
The next academic year will be the first year with 3 kids and teaching, we'll see how it goes. After I am done nursing (plan to wean Baby over this summer), I will likely be the one to get up at 6:30 with EB, then do a bit of work before everyone else gets up. The 9 am kickboxing will no longer be feasible as I actually have to go to the office and teach and attend meetings, so the plan is to go to work around 8:30 after kid drop-off, then come back a bit early to the kickboxing at 4:30, get home at 5:15 to shower and shortly thereafter start dinner. The rest should be more or less unchanged, but I guess we'll see...
When people ask me "How do you do it all?" I usually answer "Very poorly." Having kids and a career is not for people who can't relinquish control. Chaos is inherent to having young kids, and if you ask me that's one of their best qualities. You just have to embrace it.
My best friend from grad school is half of a dual-income-no-kids (DINK) couple. He and his wife both have big salaries, raise several dogs, travel to exotic places. They are living the life I would love for my Dear Husband (DH) and me... Once we turn 60.
Having both a career and a family is certainly possible, don't let anyone tell you differently. But there is no work-family or work-life "balance"; balance is a boring word anyway, implies that things are static, immobile -- think balanced scales or a well-balanced meal (booooring!). If I do have balance, it is only over months or years. On the timescales of days or weeks, my life is often profoundly out of balance. There are the sick-kid days, where that's all that consumes your life. Then there are the grant proposal deadlines and travel-for-work or hosting-a-visitor days, where it is decidedly all about work.
I have a full, colorful, wonderful life. There is incredible joy and incredible frustration.
Over months or years, when I look back upon my life, I feel happy and I feel like I have a good amount of time with the kids as well as to devote to work. I do not feel ecstatic all the time; I get joyful and giddy and tired and pissed and excited and disappointed and everything else that humans get.
Life with kids and a demanding career is many things, but NEVER BORING.
I was going for a long and profound post, but I happen to be extremely sleepy, so I will leave you with a small glimpse into DH's and my daily schedule. As you'll see, it's nothing spectacular. We do go to bed relatively late and forgo the lengthy morning routine (which seems to be common) in favor of a before-bedtime one.
This year is a bit unusual as I am on sabbatical + have an 8-month-old Baby:
During the night, I nurse Baby once (when I am lucky) or twice. Eldest Boy (EB) gets up at 6:30, leaves for the bus at 7:05. DH gets up with him to give him breakfast etc., then DH proceeds to nap in my ultracomfy office chair. (DH is not a morning person. He has been doing the early morning this year as a courtesy to my zombified sleep-deprived breastfeeding self; next school year, after I am done nursing, I will do the 6:30 wake-up). Middle Boy (MB) gets up anywhere between 6:30 and 7:30, Baby and I get up at 7:30 (if Baby's not already awake due to being hungry/wet or sick). I nurse Baby, get ready for kickboxing class while he crawls and plays on the floor around me. DH may take Middle Boy to daycare, I take Baby, or I take both; if the latter, I am done dropping them off around 8:40. I eat a banana in my car, check/answer email on the phone, go to kickboxing class 9-9:45 (close to home). Shower then pump breastmilk (around 10:30), then start working. Since I am on sabbatical, I either work in my home office or go to work for meetings; at 4 it's time to pick up Baby, who then gets nursed and takes an hour-long nap before dinner. Between 10:30 am and 4 pm, I pump once more (around 1:30), Eldest Boy comes back from middle school around 3, sometimes goes to a friend's, sometimes friends come over, so I may have to stop work to feed hungry preteens snacks or chauffeur them around. Twice a week Eldest and Middle Boy have swimming (1 hr for EB, 30 min for MB) circa 5:45. DH picks up Middle Boy between 5:15 and 5:45, early on days when they go swimming. On one (but not both) of the swimming days, DH and the two older boys go to the food court at a nearby mall for a junky dinner. While Baby naps I start dinner, we usually eat around 6:30, depending on the day and how elaborate the meal is. Older kids play video games or watch TV or we all play with Baby till about 8, when I put Baby to sleep (bath, nursing, bedtime). DH puts Middle Boy to bed next, around 8:30, except on Mon and Thu, when DH, an avid World of Warcraft player, has scheduled raids. On those days I try to put Middle Boy to bed. Eldest Boy does his own bedtime routine (which involves showering, as well as nasal sprays and asthma inhalers) and should be asleep by 9:30 (ideally).
DH and I stay up late. On the nights he raids with his WoW buddies, I work 9-12 or till 1. On other nights we may see a show, it depends on how much work I have to do; DH goofs around on the web or plays WoW or watches something on his own (he avoids working at home). I go to bed around midnight. DH and I have our grooming routines (showers, shaving etc) at night, which I guess is relatively unusual from what I have read. But it saves us time in the morning and enables us to pull off later wake-up times and later bedtimes and we get more quality time with the kids in the evening.
On Saturdays and Sundays, DH sleeps in quite late, while I am up with the kids; the older two are good about getting up and entertaining themselves with electronic gadgets before I get up with Baby. DH does the laundry, I do the grocery shopping, usually with Baby in tow, and usually Sunday afternoon. EB has a drama class Saturday afternoon, DH and MB take him and wait for him while having coffee at a nearby downtown coffee shop; during that time, Baby and I are at home, Baby sleeps and I can get some work done. I also work on Saturday and Sunday nights after the kids' bedtimes, although I might skip one and spend some time watching a movie with DH. EB has of late started asking to stay later on Fri and Sat, which cuts into DH's and my grownup time... I make all the lunches for DH and EB on Sunday for the whole week -- that's a lot of sandwiches, but saves a lot of time during the week.
The next academic year will be the first year with 3 kids and teaching, we'll see how it goes. After I am done nursing (plan to wean Baby over this summer), I will likely be the one to get up at 6:30 with EB, then do a bit of work before everyone else gets up. The 9 am kickboxing will no longer be feasible as I actually have to go to the office and teach and attend meetings, so the plan is to go to work around 8:30 after kid drop-off, then come back a bit early to the kickboxing at 4:30, get home at 5:15 to shower and shortly thereafter start dinner. The rest should be more or less unchanged, but I guess we'll see...
Saturday, March 3, 2012
MOWM 2: Why I Can Never Ever Not Work
I feel very strongly about working: as long as I am able-bodied I plan to work. Being financially independent is absolutely critical for me, and this has nothing to do with my education or my ambition. Being educated and ambitious enables me to do what I love, but even if that weren't the case, I never ever planned on not working in any scenario. In fact, the thought of not being able to financially support myself and my children is absolutely terrifying to me.
My sentiments have to do with how I was brought up. I grew up with my sister, parents, and maternal grandparents. My maternal grandmother was one of the smartest, fiercest, and most energetic people I have ever known. Her family did not allow her to go to school past the 4th grade (this was before World War II) because she was a girl and this was her biggest regret -- not having been able to further her education and having to be financially dependent her entire life on my grandfather, who was a nice man with very little appetite for advancement. My grandmother had two daughters, my mom and my aunt, and always insisted that they have "their own piece of bread" (a literal translation of an expression that means they should earn their own money, be able to sustain themselves). Unfortunately, neither my aunt nor my mother finished college even though they both started it, but they both earned associate's degrees and held good white-collar jobs their entire lives.
In the country where I grew up nearly everybody works. It's really not possible to sustain a family on one income. As a result, many married women stay married to men that they should divorce because they cannot afford to support the children on their own. If a married woman doesn't work, people feel sorry for her husband, because there are only two reasons for her not working -- either she can't find work or she's lazy and doesn't want to, and both are reasons to pity the husband.
Even though a majority of women work, they are trapped by the inability to earn enough. My parents' marriage was not happy. They stopped loving each other long before I can first remember, and I really cannot recall ever seeing anything resembling affection between them. My mom always worked but my father made more money (she worked while he finished his BS, then later his MS). The fact that he made more money was always yet another reason to put her down, which he often did. He was also a serial philanderer. They finally divorced when I was in my early 20's, which was way past due if you ask me. One thing about parents divorcing when you are an adult is that you may actually hear more details about their life than you ever cared to know -- for instance, I know that my father gave my mother crabs when she was pregnant with my baby sister. Can you imagine the humiliation? And she stayed married to him for another 15 or so years, because she did not have the support -- moral or financial -- from her parents, with whom my family lived, to leave my father (their attitude was "You are the wife, you gotta shut up and take it") and she could not afford to raise the kids on her own.
As I was growing up, I remember my mother buying clothes and then hiding them, because my father would always give her shit about anything that she did or bought for herself. After hiding the clothes, she could pull them out later and pretend that she'd had them for a long time and that they weren't new. My father spared no expense for his beloved daughters, but his wife was not so fortunate. So even though she earned a salary, she could not go and buy what she wanted. Witnessing this was very disturbing.
Now imagine the same situation, but without her working. I bet that he simply would not give her money to buy anything until he decided she could.
The thought of someone telling me what I can and cannot buy (we are talking small stuff here) makes me positively crimson with rage. Early in my marriage, my husband used to tell me I spend too much money on coffee. We were broke, raising a kid on two student stipends, but I still believe I should have been allowed my daily coffee. These comments where pissing me off to high heaven. Now imagine the same situation, but without me having my own stipend...
Even now, my husband and I have separate checking accounts and separate credit cards; the mortgage is in my name alone; we have a joint savings through which we also transfer money to each other. Maybe there are relationships out there where women are comfortable enough to stay home with the kids and let the husband support them, and the husbands do not look down on their wives, but my experiences are such that I would never allow myself to be financially supported if I could help it. I feel that not bringing in a paycheck would mean that I am relinquishing the rights to make decisions about the money and would prevent me from being a true partner to my husband. Perhaps this also means that I don't trust my husband entirely, but it is what it is. It is not my husband's fault; there is nobody on this earth whom I would trust in this way.
And none of this even touches upon the situation in which the husband, however wonderful he may be, simply loses his job. Or dies. What happens then to the wife and the kids if the wife doesn't work, if she hasn't worked in years?
I think it's great that some women feel secure enough in their relationships that they can stay at home and take care of the children while the husbands work. I just must say that I don't fully understand such a choice, and I am well aware that I never might. It probably takes having absolute belief in harmonious, committed relationships for life. It probably also takes growing up in a country with a much more robust economy than my homeland's to give one such faith in the husband's job security.
My sentiments have to do with how I was brought up. I grew up with my sister, parents, and maternal grandparents. My maternal grandmother was one of the smartest, fiercest, and most energetic people I have ever known. Her family did not allow her to go to school past the 4th grade (this was before World War II) because she was a girl and this was her biggest regret -- not having been able to further her education and having to be financially dependent her entire life on my grandfather, who was a nice man with very little appetite for advancement. My grandmother had two daughters, my mom and my aunt, and always insisted that they have "their own piece of bread" (a literal translation of an expression that means they should earn their own money, be able to sustain themselves). Unfortunately, neither my aunt nor my mother finished college even though they both started it, but they both earned associate's degrees and held good white-collar jobs their entire lives.
In the country where I grew up nearly everybody works. It's really not possible to sustain a family on one income. As a result, many married women stay married to men that they should divorce because they cannot afford to support the children on their own. If a married woman doesn't work, people feel sorry for her husband, because there are only two reasons for her not working -- either she can't find work or she's lazy and doesn't want to, and both are reasons to pity the husband.
Even though a majority of women work, they are trapped by the inability to earn enough. My parents' marriage was not happy. They stopped loving each other long before I can first remember, and I really cannot recall ever seeing anything resembling affection between them. My mom always worked but my father made more money (she worked while he finished his BS, then later his MS). The fact that he made more money was always yet another reason to put her down, which he often did. He was also a serial philanderer. They finally divorced when I was in my early 20's, which was way past due if you ask me. One thing about parents divorcing when you are an adult is that you may actually hear more details about their life than you ever cared to know -- for instance, I know that my father gave my mother crabs when she was pregnant with my baby sister. Can you imagine the humiliation? And she stayed married to him for another 15 or so years, because she did not have the support -- moral or financial -- from her parents, with whom my family lived, to leave my father (their attitude was "You are the wife, you gotta shut up and take it") and she could not afford to raise the kids on her own.
As I was growing up, I remember my mother buying clothes and then hiding them, because my father would always give her shit about anything that she did or bought for herself. After hiding the clothes, she could pull them out later and pretend that she'd had them for a long time and that they weren't new. My father spared no expense for his beloved daughters, but his wife was not so fortunate. So even though she earned a salary, she could not go and buy what she wanted. Witnessing this was very disturbing.
Now imagine the same situation, but without her working. I bet that he simply would not give her money to buy anything until he decided she could.
The thought of someone telling me what I can and cannot buy (we are talking small stuff here) makes me positively crimson with rage. Early in my marriage, my husband used to tell me I spend too much money on coffee. We were broke, raising a kid on two student stipends, but I still believe I should have been allowed my daily coffee. These comments where pissing me off to high heaven. Now imagine the same situation, but without me having my own stipend...
Even now, my husband and I have separate checking accounts and separate credit cards; the mortgage is in my name alone; we have a joint savings through which we also transfer money to each other. Maybe there are relationships out there where women are comfortable enough to stay home with the kids and let the husband support them, and the husbands do not look down on their wives, but my experiences are such that I would never allow myself to be financially supported if I could help it. I feel that not bringing in a paycheck would mean that I am relinquishing the rights to make decisions about the money and would prevent me from being a true partner to my husband. Perhaps this also means that I don't trust my husband entirely, but it is what it is. It is not my husband's fault; there is nobody on this earth whom I would trust in this way.
And none of this even touches upon the situation in which the husband, however wonderful he may be, simply loses his job. Or dies. What happens then to the wife and the kids if the wife doesn't work, if she hasn't worked in years?
I think it's great that some women feel secure enough in their relationships that they can stay at home and take care of the children while the husbands work. I just must say that I don't fully understand such a choice, and I am well aware that I never might. It probably takes having absolute belief in harmonious, committed relationships for life. It probably also takes growing up in a country with a much more robust economy than my homeland's to give one such faith in the husband's job security.
Musings on Working Motherhood (MOWM), Part 1: A Disclaimer
This past week, Massimo lamented the disappearance of his favorite blogs and how people seem to run out of things to say after they have been blogging a while. After nearly two years of blogging, I have lots to say and could probably blog much more frequently, but... (Of course there's a "but." )
But, saying what I want while ensuring that nobody gets inadvertently pissed off on the vast and temperamental intertubes is a lot of work, and I admit I am not very good at "PC blogging sanitation" (c) even when I try. So I often don't. And then it's just easier not to post...
Then the same issue (sort of) came about as I was commenting on Cloud's post about working motherhood. I have strong opinions on why it's good to be a working mom, but voicing them always has the potential to come across like I think (which I don't) that not being a working mom is somehow bad.
So I asked myself: when I think and write about how my choices, especially those that I make about my kids, my work, and the tradeoffs between them, and when I tell myself (and perhaps blog about) how I think something I do is actually good for my children, do I really ever think to myself "I'm gonna show those stay-at-home moms -- they are doing it all wrong!" The answer is -- really, really no.
99% of the time I really only worry about my kids, my choices for my kids, and the indirect effects of my other choices on my kids. I really don't think about other people's families or children all that much, pretty much ever. If I do, I think about the people I know, and not about a whole loosely defined and fairly abstract group of people like, for instance, stay-at-home moms (SAHMs).
Nicoleandmaggie have a series of posts "My choices are not a judgement of your choices." It's a great series. I would like to second the sentiment, even though in my case I can't guarantee that I never judge other people. I am sure I do. But I also know with even greater certainty that I am generally too wrapped up in my own expectations of myself, my kids' and my husband's expectations of myself, perhaps the society's expectations of myself, and the guilt I feel about not meeting all these various expectations, that when I talk about all the stuff I am doing right, you can bet dollars to donuts that I am first and foremost trying to ease my own anxieties by telling myself "You are doing a good job." Patting myself on the back is a 24/7 commitment. Therefore, by-and-large, I am far too self-involved to care about other people's choices enough to judge them.
There. How's that for a disclaimer?
This entry kicks off a series of posts "Musings on Working Motherhood (MOWM)" that I have been meaning to write for a while, but haven't due to the avoidance of "PC blogging sanitation" (although, to be honest, my considerable laziness played a role too). However, several recent posts on Cloud's blog as well as feMOMhist's recent International Women's Day Carnival call, plus the fact that I am too busy and thus naturally wish to procrastinate, were the necessary catalists for this series...
What I plan to write is how I see what I do in regards to balancing parenthood and a career and how I think I came to hold the convictions that I do.
But, saying what I want while ensuring that nobody gets inadvertently pissed off on the vast and temperamental intertubes is a lot of work, and I admit I am not very good at "PC blogging sanitation" (c) even when I try. So I often don't. And then it's just easier not to post...
Then the same issue (sort of) came about as I was commenting on Cloud's post about working motherhood. I have strong opinions on why it's good to be a working mom, but voicing them always has the potential to come across like I think (which I don't) that not being a working mom is somehow bad.
So I asked myself: when I think and write about how my choices, especially those that I make about my kids, my work, and the tradeoffs between them, and when I tell myself (and perhaps blog about) how I think something I do is actually good for my children, do I really ever think to myself "I'm gonna show those stay-at-home moms -- they are doing it all wrong!" The answer is -- really, really no.
99% of the time I really only worry about my kids, my choices for my kids, and the indirect effects of my other choices on my kids. I really don't think about other people's families or children all that much, pretty much ever. If I do, I think about the people I know, and not about a whole loosely defined and fairly abstract group of people like, for instance, stay-at-home moms (SAHMs).
Nicoleandmaggie have a series of posts "My choices are not a judgement of your choices." It's a great series. I would like to second the sentiment, even though in my case I can't guarantee that I never judge other people. I am sure I do. But I also know with even greater certainty that I am generally too wrapped up in my own expectations of myself, my kids' and my husband's expectations of myself, perhaps the society's expectations of myself, and the guilt I feel about not meeting all these various expectations, that when I talk about all the stuff I am doing right, you can bet dollars to donuts that I am first and foremost trying to ease my own anxieties by telling myself "You are doing a good job." Patting myself on the back is a 24/7 commitment. Therefore, by-and-large, I am far too self-involved to care about other people's choices enough to judge them.
There. How's that for a disclaimer?
This entry kicks off a series of posts "Musings on Working Motherhood (MOWM)" that I have been meaning to write for a while, but haven't due to the avoidance of "PC blogging sanitation" (although, to be honest, my considerable laziness played a role too). However, several recent posts on Cloud's blog as well as feMOMhist's recent International Women's Day Carnival call, plus the fact that I am too busy and thus naturally wish to procrastinate, were the necessary catalists for this series...
What I plan to write is how I see what I do in regards to balancing parenthood and a career and how I think I came to hold the convictions that I do.
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