Chronicle of Higher Education
> From the issue dated June 7, 2002
> An Immodest Proposal: Have Children in Graduate School
>
> By KATHRYN LYNCH
>
> I have an immodest proposal for academic women:
If you have
> the desire and a willing partner, don't be afraid to
have
> children while you are in graduate school.
>
> Combining parenthood and professional life is particularly
> difficult for academic women. That is a truism I have
heard
> from colleagues, encountered in the pages of The Chronicle
and
> other publications, and even repeated myself to
> administrators. But for a long time, I resisted it in
my
> heart. It didn't square with my own experience or with
the
> motivations that led me to an academic career.
>
> I wanted marriage and children, yet I also wanted to
do
> important work and to use my mind in doing it. I didn't
want
> to have to compromise in either area, and the flexibility
of a
> college teacher's schedule looked to me like one of the
best
> ways to achieve an integrated professional and personal
life.
> Indeed, it turned out to be the right choice for me.
I have
> three thriving children; a long, solid marriage (28 years);
> and a steady, satisfying career as a writer and teacher.
There
> are scholars in my field more successful than I, but
I have no
> illusions that my limitations have been caused by my
children
> or my marriage.
>
> My personal satisfaction has occasionally turned to smugness.
> I confess to having felt a wee bit judgmental, a tad
impatient
> with the fretful sense of entitlement displayed by parents
> slightly younger than I am, and with their seemingly
> exaggerated struggles to carry off what by now feels
like
> second nature to me.
>
> But some surprising statistics summarized in Sylvia Ann
> Hewlett's controversial book Creating a Life: Professional
> Women and the Quest for Children (Talk Miramax Books,
2002)
> have made me rethink my position. I don't want to get
into the
> aspects of the book that have been polarizing the feminist
> movement -- whether, for example, Hewlett demeans women
who
> have chosen not to have children. What I'm interested
in are
> the implications of her research for academics who do
want a
> family.
>
> The full results of Hewlett's scientifically conducted
survey
> of high-achieving women are available through the National
> Parenting Association (see http://www.parentsunite.org).
Her
> data suggest that women are less likely than men to have
it
> all -- profession, spouse, and children -- and that women
in
> academe have more difficulty combining family and professional
> life than women in business, law, or medicine. Men in
academe,
> however, are more likely than men in other fields to
be
> married and have children. What is it about our profession
> that exaggerates the gender gap?
>
> One chilling fact to which Hewlett returns again and
again,
> and which has recently been reinforced by biological
research,
> is that a woman's fertility begins to decline as early
as age
> 27, only to fall off dramatically after age 35. Professional
> women who do have children, according to Hewlett's data,
tend
> to have them early. Perhaps it is the unforgiving trajectory
> of the academic career path that is responsible for the
fact
> that female professors lag behind women in other professions
> in their ability to integrate work and family.
>
> That surmise led last fall to the recommendation by the
> American Association of University Professors that colleges
> add as many as two years to the tenure clock for new
parents.
> Yet, in the report that made that recommendation, the
AAUP
> offered another startling statistic: The median age for
> receipt of the Ph.D. is 34. In other words, by the time
a
> woman even begins to travel along the tenure track, she
has
> already entered a period of declining fertility. While
the
> option of slowing the tenure clock down is certainly
welcome,
> it will hardly solve all the problems of timing faced
by women
> in academe.
>
> Thus, my immodest proposal.
>
> The years a woman spends in graduate school are her most
> fertile years. Graduate school may also be an academic's
most
> flexible period, a time when she can take a break without
> leaving a suspicious gap in her resume. And in a tight
job
> market, she may find advantages to taking a little longer
to
> finish her dissertation.
>
> That brings me back to my own experience. Could it be
that
> some of my own success in balancing work and family came
not
> from hard work, ability, or even luck, but from good
timing?
> Two of my children were born while I was a graduate student
--
> one at the end of my second year, as I was nearing completion
> of my course work, and one when I was beginning to write
my
> dissertation.
>
> For me, having babies in graduate school meant that I
got more
> help from my husband than I could have expected later,
and
> that he was able to spend more time with our children
when
> they were infants. As a law student, he was hardly a
man of
> leisure -- but he had less flexibility later, as an associate
> at a law firm.
>
> In retrospect, I believe that my impetuous decision to
start
> having children in my mid-20s -- a choice that seemed
> inexplicable, possibly even insane, to everyone around
me (and
> sometimes even to me) -- was at least partly responsible
for
> putting me where I am now.
>
> I know that there are good reasons to wait. Day care
costs a
> lot of money; I could not afford full-time care until
after
> graduate school. And graduate schools are not supportive
of
> motherhood. To use a mixed metaphor, a pregnant belly
is not
> the most impressive face to present to a prospective
adviser.
>
> I still bristle when I remember that one of my advisers
> referred to one two-year period as my slump. During that
time,
> I had a baby, began my first teaching as a graduate
> instructor, learned Latin and passed an exam in the language,
> taught part-time at a local high school to make some
extra
> money, and began studying for my oral comprehensive exam.
What
> my adviser really meant was that he hadn't seen much
of me in
> the hall.
>
> Such incomprehension is enraging, but in the long run
it can
> be overcome more easily than a hostile tenure committee
or a
> loudly ticking biological clock.
>
> Perhaps a more common reason for waiting involves less
> tangible motives. Many young women wonder if they are
really
> ready to be parents. It seems like a feminist commonplace
that
> women in their 30s are more mature and thus make better
> mothers than younger women. But I don't agree. One way
to grow
> up is to take on the joy and responsibility of parenthood.
My
> children taught me focus and perspective; they made me
an
> adult, and I'm forever grateful that I didn't have to
wait
> until my 30s for that.
>
> One of the great illusions of youth is that life is always
> about to start -- in a month or a decade. For complicated
> reasons, many far beyond their control, graduate students
can
> spin for years in a hazy orbit of delayed gratification
and
> responsibility. But the fantasy that real life waits
just
> around the next bend is especially dangerous for young
women.
> Reproductively, the future is here now.
>
> In fact, time may already be running out.
>
> Kathryn Lynch is a professor of English at Wellesley
College.
> She is currently editing Chaucer's Cultural Geography,
a
> collection of essays to be published later this year
by
> Routledge.
>
>
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> Copyright 2002 by The Chronicle of Higher Education
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