There’s something about Abby . . .

10 Jan 2013 2 Comments

by Domestic Goddess, Esq. in Article Review, Ponderings Tags: , , , , , ,

It’s not that I hate Abby Cadabby.  She just kind of – bugs me.

I know I’m venturing out onto thin ice here, being critical of a Muppet.  I love the Muppets.  As a kid, I watched Sesame Street daily (followed by Mr. Rogers Neighborhood and 3-2-1 Contact! with the Bloodhound Gang) while my Mom cooked dinner.  Every weekend, the whole family gathered ’round for the Muppet Show.  I saw all of the Muppet Movies in the theater.  My kids now love the Muppets.  Still, in spite of my overall love for the Muppets, there’s something about Abby . . .

Those of you who last watched Sesame Street prior to 2006 may not be familiar with her.  She was introduced with much fanfare that year.   You see, Abby is – wait for it – a GIRL Muppet.  Yes, a bona fide girl Muppet.  How do I know she’s a girl?  Well, she is purple, pink and sparkly, for one.  She also carries a sparkly magic wand topped with a pom-pon, and sports a silvery pair of wings.  She has a high-pitched squeaky voice, and bounces a lot.  Although she is a Fairy Godmother in training, she reminds me more of the quintessential blonde cheerleader.  Clearly, a GIRL.

It’s not that I worship Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor.  She’s just kind of – awesome.

I know I’m venturing out onto thin ice here with folks who see her as nothing more than another Latina who, but for winning the double affirmative-action lottery, should have been subjected to a life of cleaning hotels.  (Being born both a Peurto Rican and a woman – don’t some folks have all the luck?  Wink, wink.)

Those of you who first heard of Sonia Sotomayor at the time of her nomination to the US Supreme Court in 2009 may not be familiar with the incredible odds she had to overcome to get where she is today:  growing up in the projects;  being born to uneducated immigrant parents;  losing her dad at the tender age of nine.  She nonetheless graduated as valedictorian of her high-school class, graduated from Princeton and then Yale Law School, worked as a prosecutor, made partner in only four years at a firm where she focused on corporate litigation, and then was nominated as a Federal District Court judge by a Republican president.  Clearly, a smart, focused, hard-working woman.

Abby Cadabby and Sonia Sotomayor – weird combination, huh?  Well, imagine my surprise when they appeared together on Sesame Street!  It’s a short clip, where Justice Sotomayor talks to Abby about careers.  [View the clip here.]  It’s generally sweet and uplifting.   Justice Sotomayor is wearing her black robe with the white ruffle at the neck, and Abby is in her usual girly-girl attire.  When Abby tells the Justice that she wants to be a princess, the Justice kindly explains that while being a princess is certainly fun, it is not a career.  A career is something that you must work toward over a long period of time.  Justice Sotomayor explains that there are all sorts of careers – doctor, lawyers, teacher and scientist, for example.  Then, predictably, Abby decides she wants to be a Supreme Court Justice, just like Justice Sotomayor.

This lawyer-mom loved the clip, and its message to our daughters.  Initially.  The message to many girls, particularly those growing up in poverty, is a great one.  You can be more than a princess.  If you work hard, you can have a career.  Even you – a Latina from the projects – can become a Supreme Court Justice.

So what’s my issue?  The segment commits the all-too-common sin of omission.  Women of my generation (well, women from predominantly white, educated families) were the first girls to grow up with the expectation that we could become doctors, lawyers and engineers.  We were told we could be whatever we wanted to be.  So we did.  Then we had kids – and were blindsided.  Yes, being a woman was no longer an impediment to becoming whatever we wanted to be – as long as we wanted to be our careers.  Women were treated equally to men, as long as we became man-like in relation to our home-lives.  As soon as we showed signs of our female-ness – such as becoming mothers – all bets were off.

So while Justice Sotomayor tows the 1970s feminist line by telling Abby she could be whatever she wanted to be, the Justice forgot to mention what she isn’t – a mom.

I’m not trying to pick on Sotomayor, or denounce her for not being a mother.  I firmly believe that women can – and do – lead happy, fulfilling lives without becoming mothers.  For all I know, Justice Sotomayor wanted to be a mother, regrets not being a mother, but never found what she felt to be the right opportunity.  That is neither here, nor there.  What is of concern to me is the general lack of candor toward the tribunal – that tribunal being our daughters, who will one day judge whether we provided them with adequate preparation for the future.

In the 1970s, I believe the feminist movement thought that society would evolve to accommodate women’s needs as they entered previously male dominated careers.  Today, we know that hasn’t been the case – particularly for mother lawyers.  (I won’t bore you with studies and statistics.  They’re out there.)  Knowing what we do, we now have a responsibility toward the tribunal, as well -  to talk about barriers to mothers in the work-place, and to change those barriers where we are able.

What does all this mean for Justice Sotomayor and dear, saccharine sweet Abby?  I’m not exactly sure.  Abby is at the age where her Mommy is the most important person in her young life.  When she visits Sesame Street, she often calls, or is called by, her Mommy. Like most little girls, she assumes she’ll be a Mommy one day.  She wants to be a Mommy one day.  I can imagine the shock and confusion as she looks up and says, “Justice Sotomayor isn’t a Mommy?”  I can also imagine the resigned nature with which the Justice looks down, and says, “No, Abby, I am not.”  I long for the day when Abby asks, “Can I be a Supreme Court Justice and a Mommy?” and a Supreme Court Justice looks down with a smile and says, “Of course, Abby!”

Maybe I’ve lost some of my awe for Justice Sotomayor – it’s much easier to grow up in the projects, focus and school and career if you are not simultaneously pursuing motherhood.  And maybe, just maybe, my heart is beginning to soften toward Abby – that pink and purple, bouncing, sparkling, little bundle – of innocence and hope.

B.N.:  The fact that the two women appointed to serve on the U.S. Supreme Court prior to Sotomayor were mothers has not been lost on the author.  Sandra Day O’Connor ran a small law practice with a partner while her children were young, from 1957 – 1965.  Ruth Bader Ginsberg was in law school when her daughter was born, and spent her career prior to the Supreme Court as a law professor.  The most recently appointed woman Justice, Elana Kagan, is also childless.

Examining Lawyers in “The Opt-Out Revolution”

25 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment

by Domestic Goddess, Esq. in Article Review Tags: , , , , , , , ,

“The Opt-Out Revolution,” an article which appeared in the New York Times Magazine on October 26, 2003, by Lisa Belken, is generally credited to be the first major article examining the ‘opt-out’ phenomenon.   The article has spawned multiple responsive articles and books, some praising and some lambasting Belken and the ideas presented in her article.  (The article is available in its entirety at http://www.nytimes.com/2003/10/26/magazine/26WOMEN.html?pagewanted=1.)

The women Belken interviewed and profiled were Princeton graduates and members of a book club -  admittedly white beneficiaries of top-tier educations (generally with graduate degrees,) married to successful, equally educated men.  (As one might imagine, many of the critiques of the article begin with the limited sample of women, and their highly privileged situations.)   The women’s professional backgrounds were varied, but lumped together by Belken under the umbrella of high-powered fast-track careers.

When the glossy New York Times Magazine arrived on my doorstep, the article struck a particular chord.  At that time, I was a new associate at a large law-firm beginning to wonder how I could possibly manage to balance my career, my marriage, and the children I hoped to have in the next few years.  I was curious about these women who, in my mind, had thrown their careers away.

Looking back, I now find it interesting that three of the Princeton book-club members quoted in Belken’s article are attorneys.  (She never reveals the total number of book-club members, but one can reasonably presume it was a relatively small group.)  Belken did not comment on the (perhaps) disproportionate representation of lawyers profiled in her article, or compare the situation of the attorneys with the women in other professions.  (Belken focused primarily on comparing attitudes of women of differing generations.)

The very first book-club member quoted in Belken’s article is one of those three attorneys.  True to lawyer form, Karen Browkaw is discussing the definition of a particular term:  success.   ”I don’t want to be on the fast track leading to a partnership at a prestigious law firm,” Ms. Brokaw is quoted as saying.  ”Some people define that as success. I don’t.”  While Ms. Brokaw never actually defines success, we learn that she had left the ‘fast-track’ to stay home with her three children.

The tipping point in Ms. Browkaw’s decision to opt-out was a bumped-up trial date which required her to spend three months working fifteen hour days, seven days a week, while simultaneously nursing her baby daughter – who was not yet sleeping through the night.  When Brokaw’s trial date arrived, the judge postponed the case – to go fishing for two weeks.  Later the judge postponed the case indefinitely.

“Finally, when the case was pulled from the calendar, I did a lot of soul-searching,” Ms. Brokaw is quoted as saying.  “My life, my home life and my new family life were at the mercy of other people’s whims. The judge had chosen to go fishing. My partners [at the law firm] had chosen not to place my request [for a part-time schedule] on high-enough priority.”

Eventually, Ms. Brokaw decided that while the ultimate goal of becoming partner would reward her financially, she felt it would actually make her day-to-day life worse.  So, she quit.  Her story ends with Brokaw saying, ”I wish it had been possible to be the kind of parent I want to be and continue with my legal career, but I wore myself out trying to do both jobs well.”

The next lawyer Belken introduces is Vicky McElhaney Benedict.  Ms. Benedict’s career path is described as quite different from that of Ms. Brokaw – practicing law for nine months before leaving her law firm to work in a university development office.  Ms. Benedict then quit that job while on maternity leave with her first child.  While this career path would be disappointing to the majority of women lawyers I know, Belken quotes Ms. Benedict as saying, “Even before I became a mother, I suspected I wouldn’t go back to work.”  She describes her decision to follow her then-boyfriend, now husband, to a different city at the very beginning of her career, “because I knew that the long-term career was going to be his.”

The third and final lawyer introduced by Belken refuses to be identified.  She is a litigator whose firm – unlike Ms. Browkaw’s – actually had granted her request to work ‘part-time.’  We quickly learn that the ‘part-time’ track is not a panacea.  This attorney rhetorically asks, ”How do you litigate part time? It’s supposed to be 10 to 5 — at a law firm, that’s part time — but lately I’ve been working until 4 a.m. because I have a project due. It’s the type of job where if something’s due, you work until it’s done.”

So how do the mother attorneys profiled in Belken’s article feel about their decisions?  Ms. Benedict is quoted saying, ”This is what I was meant to do.  I hate to say that because it sounds like I could have skipped college. But I mean this is what I was meant to do at this time. I know that’s very un-p.c., but I like life’s rhythms when I’m nurturing a child.”

Ms. Brokaw, on the other hand, comes across as a bit more defensive of her decision.  Belken quotes her as saying, ”Don’t make me look like some 1950′s Stepford wife.” She emphasizes that in the years since she had left her law firm, she had helped found the Atlanta Girls’ School, and had also raised a successful challenge to a bridge that was to have spilled its traffic into her residential neighborhood. ”I use my legal skills every day,” Browkaw reportedly states.  For her, using her degree is clearly very important, but her compensation need not be monetary.  Instead, for Ms. Brokaw, adequate compensation consists of living her own definition of ‘success’.

The anonymous attorney doesn’t specifically state her level of job satisfaction at her ‘part-time’ job – for which she presumably receives ‘part-time’ pay – but reading between the lines this reader, at least, assumes that she is not pleased with her situation, yet sees no alternative to remain a practicing lawyer.

So, what conclusions can we draw from Ms. Belken’s now eight-year-old article?  I conclude that in regards to the reasons mother-lawyers ‘opt out,’ things haven’t changed very much.  Some mother-lawyers such as Ms. Benedict (although in my estimate, this is a very small minority of mother-lawyers) enter the field assuming that they may practice law, but knowing that while their children are small, they will stay home. They also assume that staying home is only a phase.  “This is what I was meant to do at this time,”  (emphasis mine.)

Some mother-lawyers such as Ms. Brokaw struggle along, striving perfection in juggling job and kids until they realize that:  the juggling will never, never end;  that their ‘work product’ – both at the office and at home – is suffering in quality; and that the juggling will only get harder as they advance into more responsibility at work, and/or have a second or third child.

Other mother-lawyers, such as Ms. Anonymous, try to cut back, but find that it is impossible, and so they toil along, with fear of negative repercussions at work if their true feelings are revealed and a sense of unhappiness in their day-to-day lives.

Because her article did not address mothers who choose to work full-time in high-powered, fast-track careers, we don’t have an example of why or how those mothers get along, or how ‘happy’ they perceive themselves.  (More on that at a later date.)    Similarly, because her article did not focus specifically on mother-lawyers, we are not presented with suggestions for improving work-life balance in the law.

As for me?  I relate most closely to Ms. Brokaw.  I was plagued by the very real fear that it was only a matter of time before my juggling resulted in dropping a very important ball.  I was either going to (a) commit malpractice, (b) leave a child in a snow-bank, (c) have a nervous break-down, or (d) all of the above.  I was betting on answer (d) – clearly an unsustainable path.

And, like Ms. Anonymous, I’m no longer sure that it is possible for the practice of law to be ‘family friendly’ due to its very nature.  (Again, more on that later).

What about you?

What are your thoughts on Belken’s article?

Over the next weeks, I will examine some of the stand-out books and articles that followed Belken’s initial foray into the world of ‘opting-out,’ hopefully teasing out how they may apply to the legal profession, and to mother-lawyers specifically.  I hope you’ll join me.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 181 other followers

%d bloggers like this: