Academic Mothering

I consider myself an academic mother; for me, the name, such as it is, merges my professional and personal life.  I am an academic, and I am a mother.  It is impossible to every stop being one or the other.  I am both simultaneously.  I am always thinking about my children and the things I need to do for them, and I'm always thinking about my research and writing.  There is no separation.

Many of my friends, especially my close friends, are also academic mothers, although I don't know how many of them would self-identify in that way.  Among these friends, I've observed something that I find disconcerting.  A few of these friends, two in particular, speak about mothering and their children with something close to disdain.  Now, these two women love their children; I don't mean to suggest otherwise.  They light up when their children walk into the room, and they tell delightful stories about their children.  But when in certain groups, primarily groups in which other academics are present, they act as though they hate parenting, as though their children keep them from their "real" work, and as though their "careers" are more fulfilling than parenting.  This makes me really uncomfortable for several reasons.

First, as I've blogged before (a long, long time ago), CU is fairly friendly to faculty members with families.  In fact, CU has an astounding number of faculty members with young children.  Part of this, I think, is due to Canadian culture, which allows for year-long parental leaves, and part of this is due to the unionized environment of CU (for example, despite being the equivalent of an American R1, the tenure requirements are fairly manageable and clearly spelled out; also taking parental leave of a certain length delays tenure by a full-year).  People here have kids.  People with kids bring their kids to class on occasion and many bring their kids to events and meetings.  Archer and I often have the boys on campus, especially now as we're in the odd time when my leave has ended but we don't have full time child care for Bear and we don't have any child care for George.  To return to my original point, no one here has ever made me feel less than anyone else because I have children.  Sure, I have colleagues who never ask about my children, but that's okay because I never ask about their dogs, for example.  I don't feel as though people question my abilities as an academic because I'm a mother, or at least I don't feel as though most of my colleagues do.

My friends' tendency to disparage parenting and their own children makes me uncomfortable because it's a performance, a carefully constructed one at that.  It is as though these two women, both of whom have tenure and have proven themselves as teachers and researchers, as it were, believe they have to project a certain image of themselves in order to maintain their academic credibility.  I think this just perpetuates the unequal way many academic parents are treated.  Everyone knows I have children, and everyone knows I'm happy to talk about my children.  But everyone also knows I am a successful teacher and a good researcher.  I am able to be both without disparaging one or the other.

This is not to say that I'm always secure in my role, and I do think my friends' tendency to speak badly of parenting is due to their own insecurities.  But I am secure in my role as a mom.  I know I'm a good mom.  I have three happy, healthy, confident children to support that belief.  I'm less secure in my role as an academic, although I am becoming more confident.  But I also believe that the two roles, the two halves of myself, as it were, can't be separated, and I don't want them to be.  I think my friends are more insecure about their ability to mother effectively while maintaining the active research and service loads that they do.  I know things are going to fall through the cracks, and mostly I'm okay with that.  I don't have to be a perfect mother, and I certainly don't have to be a perfect academic.  I'd rather be happy, get some work done, and hang out with my kids.