For me, life after law school might not be as glamorous as I might have imagined when I was a teenager. I have been a mama to a little girl since I was 21. Between then and now, I have experienced a wide range of lifestyles: from near-destitute to wealthy to happily in-debt; from single mother to custody fighter to wife of an attorney-to-be; and finally from stay-at-home mother to perpetual law student (it will have taken seven years of starts and stops!) to law school graduate in the worst economy of our generation.
Maybe I am asking for too much but I still “want it all.” I want to see my daughter and my husband for most of everyday, have a small tribe of toddlers who will love me madly in my postpartum-free bliss, spend the majority of each day stitching sundresses and unicorn costumes, sleep for more than a few hours a night—oh, and I want to provide for my family and live out a few burning dreams and ambitions, too. Let’s not forget my husband, lest he think he’ll bear the burden of working 1900 billable hours next year and be an absentee parent to the Toddler Tribe. I want him to be part of the Have-It-All, too.
Having been raised by a stay-at-home mother who was also an eccentric artist, I have somewhat of a fanciful notion of where motherhood fits in the work-life balance. Motherhood is the trumping factor: When I should be writing memorandums, I am teaching my daughter to play guitar or helping her to make chandeliers out of foil for her princess castle built with sheer walls of mosquito netting. I seem to have no problem spending an afternoon crocheting a scarf and cooking dinner from scratch for my family, then staying awake until the wee hours of morning to work…and repeating the cycle a few times a week. No sitters, no nannies, no after-care—but a life built with a near obsession for hands-on motherhood. It’s what I grew up with, so it’s what I know.
But it sets me up for some heartbreak as a job-seeker. To be honest, I don’t like the world outside of motherhood all that much. I’ve lived it. It’s Working Mommy Land – rife with guilt and depression, and never quite the perfect balance of ambition, nurturance, and fulfillment. I want to be a lawyer, without my daughter ever feeling like I left the house. Is this just a pipe dream?
Finding the right work-life balance is particularly important to me as a mother. Having had full custody of my daughter since her birth, I have never quite adjusted to the 50% custody arrangement of the past two years. Trying to feel like a whole mother with only half the time has been impossibly difficult, and it makes me somewhat of a time-maximizing, multi-tasking, sleep-deprived nut: I confess that I am not a law school gunner, but I am a hopelessly devoted mommy gunner.
Can my devotion to parenthood survive the legal workplace? Do I have to choose the all-or-nothing route to being an attorney, or is there some kind of warm, fuzzy in-between?
Parenthood, workplace identities, and covering
Most people have experienced the pressure to conform to the working identity, a term coined by Mitu Gulati and Devon W. Carbado. The working identity is the identity to which we all consciously conform and perform in the workplace in order to earn respect or stay in the game. In addition, most have probably felt the need to cover, a term coined from Kenji Yoshino’s discourse on covering. Covering is the concept that we surrender our individuality as a necessary act of assimilation, as Yoshino describes in the following clip:
While it is a step forward to push the realities of parenthood into mainstream discourse, will there ever be a day when it is perfectly acceptable to confess that you are late to a meeting because your beloved child had an irreparable, gargantuan tantrum twenty seconds before you were about to leave the house? Will workplaces adapt to family life, or will professional expectations continue be the anchoring point of “work-life balance”?
The flex-time and part-time lawyer: do they really exist?
The concept of being a flex-time lawyer is becoming more of a reality in recent years, redefining the recent paradigm shift of the “power lawyer” mother and the stay-at-home dad. We do not yet know whether the recession will promise more part-time or flex time jobs, but there is a chance that such a poor economic climate could trigger major organizational changes.
In addition to the illusion of what "part-time" is, flex-time or part-time status may compromise pay and health insurance. I know an attorney who was asked to be partner, but asked if she could take a year of “part time hours” in order to spend time with her family, before committing to the partner position. When she was “part time” she said the law firm revoked her health insurance (because no part time employees received health coverage at the firm) and grossly miscalculated part-time to mean “4 out of 5 days a week.” Dissatisfied by the firm's unfair practices, she jumped ship from the firm and began an independent consulting company, instead of returning to full-time private law life as partner.
Where to find flex-time and part-time positions
Apparently, it takes some detective work and determination to find a flex-time or part-time attorney position. The first option is to learn by example, by researching attorney profiles on sites such as Ms. JD to see how others have achieved work-life balance.
Attorney and author Julie Tower Pierce has recently written a book called Staying at Home, Staying in the Law, which describes ways in which both women and men can work as lawyers with appropriate work-life balance or re-enter law after taking time off to raise children. Pierce also keeps a blog called Darling Hill, entirely devoted to the concept of flexible, part-time and contract lawyering – that even posts flexible attorney jobs currently available on the market.
1 comment:
Your entry made me think of this blog post I recently read: Little Miss Perfect--not because I think you're trying to be her, but because it addresses the pressures we all feel to do and have it all. I'm starting to think that "work-life balance" is a myth--a pretty fiction invented to convince us that if we do things just right, if we find that perfect balance, we will be able to have it all. And when we don't find it, we feel inadequate. So many working mothers I know are experiencing this struggle. And even though I'm not a mother and not necessarily planning on becoming one, I feel the pressure too.
I posted this as my FB status a few days ago: "You can't be everything or do everything. There will always be a sacrifice. The question is, what are you sacrificing--and is it worth it?" It's a difficult question to face, but I think it's an important one. Do I want to sacrifice my life for an illusion of financial/career success? More and more, I feel that I really don't.
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