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I was interviewed in the May issue of Working Mother magazine in an article by Jennifer Owens entitled The Quiet Struggle: From heartbreak to hope: moms of kids with special needs. The mothers in the article have special needs kids of varying diagnoses (some with autism) and ages (3 years old; adults). One mother is a corporate executive, another is the editor of The Elephant in the Playroom: Ordinary Parents Write Intimately and Honestly About the Extraordinary Highs and Heartbreaking Lows of Raising Kids with Special Needs (what a title—says it all), another is a classics professor in Jersey City, New Jersey (that would be me). There are suggestions about getting in “me-time,” nurturing your marriage, making connections with other women with special needs kids.
It means a lot to me to say I’m a working mother. My mother and both grandmothers all worked ( my mom worked part-time for some years so she could pick me up from school everyday and shuttle us to various lessons and appointments; my grandmothers—both born in Southern China—worked a number of jobs while each raising five kids). It’s been a bit of a crazy dance to coordinate work, Charlie, and family and married life. Slowly I’ve learned that dust on a windowsill or recyclables that are still in the kitchen and not in the bin are no big deal—stuff that can be done tomorrow, but what about hurrying over beside Charlie when he asks me to write “Jackie white car tape” or sitting down with Jim to reflect about what it means that we’ve stuck together through four states, several jobs, one autism diagnosis, several changes of household, for almost fifteen years?
It was a few months ago that another working mother (with a grown-up son) gave me a very important piece of advice. She’s a top-level official where I work and I suspect I had a slightly nervous grimace on my face as I tried to explain why I could not make another late afternoon meeting, as that’s when I have to be home with Charlie. “Kristina,” she said, “everyone has something. You just don’t know what everyone has.” She was speaking more than kindly, and in earnest; her background is in nursing and I know she’s seen a lot. “So it’s okay,” she added.
Up till then I had found myself frequently, as in always, referring to Charlie or autism to explain why I was dashing out the door, or why a hysterical voice was yelling “come right now” over my cell phone, or why I had to cancel a class before midterms because Charlie was sick. Ever since talking to my colleague I have not. If there’s a meeting at 3pm, I’ve simply said, “I can’t make that. Can we reschedule?” or, “I have to check first. I’ll email back.” And that’s that.
Taking care of Charlie could be a job in itself. Mothers of autistic children speak of wearing many hats:
Mother, father, friend, teacher, helper, caregiver, advocate, protector, defender, student, educator, playmate, actor, chef, sometimes therapist, picker-upper-after, freedom fighter, peacemaker, doctor, detective, listener, nurse, teknopoinos, chauffeur, coach, companion, believer, seeker of justice, fan, parent.
My job—at a small Jesuit college in Jersey City, one of the most diverse cities in the US—has me wearing a couple more. I teach; advise; and co-direct a program. And recently I found out that I had been awarded tenure at my school, Saint Peter’s College.
So does that make me a tenured working mother?
Though I suspect I earned that one long ago.
1326 days ago
[...] I orient my whole day around, the moment when Charlie gets off the yellow school bus. I’ve worked for most of Charlie’s life; as Jim’s always worked much further away and for longer [...]
1409 days ago
[...] good friend. But it seems something more than funny that something so essential (at least to this working mother)—-a safe and friendly place to leave a child so you can work (to pay for the daycare, for one [...]
1456 days ago
[...] am glad to describe myself as a mother and housewife, a working mother, that is. I do the usual mother/housework duties, and I also have (find time do to) a full-time job [...]
txs & txs!
glad you like the snuck-in lessons….
Congrats, Kristina! This is such an achievement! Wow. As another working mom who’s had those mysterious disappearances, I can relate. And I got some very similar advice not long ago. It made a huge difference. I am so grateful for everything you do with this blog. And you know I love the classics lessons you sneak in from time to time :-)
Tenure!
Whoo Hoo! Way to go, Kristina!
Joe
p.s. liked the article, too
Oh, congratulations!
Cliff
@Emily, it has yet to sink in!
thanks more than much, and then some.
Congratulations on the tenure. Major major achievement, no matter who you are. And on the article. That must simply feel like a huge relief to you.
I work, too (duh). And I’ve always made it a point–as a woman and a mother and a person–never to use my children as an excuse for anything. Ever. In fact, I’ve done two rounds of job interviews pregnant–really really pregnant, like 8 months both times (don’t know why pregnancy makes me go on a job hunt)–and did not mention once before or during the interview that I was pregnant. I was, almost literally, the elephant in the room that no one could legally mention, and I wasn’t about to bring it up as anything worth discussing. …pregnancy is “normal” and no apology or explanation or any other information about it was necessary, in my book, any more than my being female was. I got the jobs both times, BTW, and then worked on negotiating a late start AFTER they’d given me the offer. A tiny little pregnant stand for women in academe and the workplace, but I felt it was a worthy point to make.
Congratulations again. In my field, it’s rare to meet a tenured woman. It’s even rarer to meet a married tenured woman. And it’s even rarer to meet a married tenured woman with children, special needs or not.
3 Cheers for the newly promoted professor!
Hip!
Hip!
Hooray!
And a virtual toast with your favorite drink, be it soda, champagne, or Ensure!
still laughing about what Laura wrote—-that colleague is “moving up” (still at my college)—-her saying that one phrase about about “everyone has something” has made a huge difference to me.
thanks more than much, wish I could have everyone over for a celebration!
Congratulations on your tenure. You are truly inspirational.
Rita
Congratulations on attaining tenure.
And congratulations on a wise and understanding colleague. It’s nice to have someone come out and say, “it’s okay”.
Virtual high five. :)
Oh, I only realized you’ve “just” got the tenure. When I read the post at first I missed that part and thought you’d already had it for some time. Congratulations, that’s wonderful news!
oh, irony of all ironies: I read the story to which you refer when I was enjoying some “me time.” I was getting my hair highlighted at the salon. Nothing personal, but I was kind of cursing you because I was trying to get my mind OFF of autism. You and Charlie are everywhere!
congrats on tenure btw. You are a true inspiration.
Thanks for sharing about the article, it is very well done and congrats on the tenure.
Congrats! I am so proud of you.
links are working now……..a lot of help from many friends makes it all possible!
Hurrah for you Kristina!!!