Communicating Choice

“Would you rather be a mom or a doctor?” I feel like I am reading a line of that Dr. Seuss book about would you rather be a bullfrog! My sister-in-law asked me this question on vacation this week. It was not out of line---in fact it was a good question. It was an important question. And my inner scholar wanted to haul out readings from my Advanced Feminist Theory course to write an analytic essay about choice. Then I reminded myself: my inner scholar died in May. Let me back up…when I was an undergraduate student, I had my life planned out. I knew that I wanted to be a professor. I loved communication—I wanted to research, I wanted to teach, I wanted my doctorate. I did not wish to get married or have kids. My professors who were role models to me…some were married but none had children. That was the kiss of death. If you wanted a family, this path was not the right one. But then I got married…and then I wanted to have children…and I wanted to get my doctorate. I was a warrior. I was a determined, intelligent woman. I was a warrior who would do both. But a lack of daycare, a lack of sleep, two pregnancies, a lack of sleep, a lack of control, and the loss of my advisor…I came unraveled (see all posts from 2012). I didn’t make the right choices. People in my cohort were traveling to conferences and publishing. I was struggling to take care of myself, my family and two kids. My friends were planning for their job search and their endless possibilities…I have a husband, a mortgage, two kids, dogs, elderly parents. I slowly, slowly finished my PhD, and I slowly, slowly watched my dreams slip away. I didn’t have the time to do what my peers did. I was too tired, too burdened---I could barely get my dissertation and teaching prep and grading done. I graduated and became an adjunct. A TA salary for teaching four classes at a school where I was constantly reminded I was not wanted and had no future…I started letting go, I started questioning. It became clear to me that to be the scholar I need to be, to be the doctor I worked so hard to be and dreamed of being….I could not be both a mom and a doctor. It was not as simple as a choice. To have a choice would indicate that one has adequate support and resources to make the choice. I have watched my peers graduate and find jobs. Most say, “I don’t have to worry about kids,” or “I am not tied down by a house.” Kids are my worry, my house is tying me down…I am proud of my kids, and I am proud that in my pre=PhD years I wasn’t just a grad student….we were successful and bought a house. At the time, it seemed responsible. Now, it adds to my burden. It becomes a part of a long list of burdens that add up to a sad lack of resources. One of my peers suggested foreclosure to move away….he dropped out of the program, bless his heart. I am bitter, and I am angry. I am angry because here is how I wanted to answer that question: “I am grateful that I have adequate support and resources that allow me to embrace both sides of my identity as a mother and as a doctor.” Instead, this is the answer to my question: “I wish I could be both a doctor and a mother. Unfortunately, I lack the support and resources to be both. I hope one day I am able to fulfill my dream to be a professor and mother. For now, I settle for a job that allows me to enjoy my family, friends, garden, to build relationships and solve problems every day, to enjoy the world around me and provide me with the financial means to enjoy my life just a bit more.”