Four months is both a flash in time and an eternity, it turns out. I’m just back from my maternity leave and reeling from the abrupt transition from full-time mom of a wiggling little fleshbot to full-time executive director of an organization on fire. And not a fire that needs to be put out, but one that I am very excited to feed and fan.
I did hire a brilliant interim executive director (the wonderful Nancy Ragey) to shepherd the organization along in my absence, but it turns out, the good folks of CCSCC didn’t have time to contribute to my blog, as they were up to their eyeballs in some pretty cool work. But I’m back, and ready to jump in.
Before I fully dig in to all of the crazy wonderful stuff headed our way – the roll out of our new brand identity and new name, the celebrations we’ll have about our new location on the Tannery Arts Center campus, the rework of several of our core programs – I have to figure out how to be both a high-functioning mom AND a high-functioning executive director. Or, at least, I have to pay attention to the conflict these two all-consuming jobs create and consider what I can do every day to feel successful at both. It’s only my fourth day back, and it seems the universe is thinking about these things, too, as my email inbox featured a very timely post from Thomas Cott. His “You’ve Cott Mail” this morning is all about “the impact of parenthood on those working in the arts“.
His post focuses on artists, rather than arts administrators, but I do consider my work to be my art. I spend more time with my colleagues than I do with my husband or children, so this had better be my art form. And the articles in Cott’s post ring true for me, loud and clear. One references the imbalances I’ve already discussed on this blog: “lack of paid parental leave, inflexible work hours, and a career clock that collides headfirst with the biological clock” but identifies the more personal side of these challenges as the real conflict. Ellen McSweeney, in her New Music Box blog, says “At first glance, you might think that the field of contemporary classical music doesn’t have a whole lot in common with the high-powered corporate tech world. And you might also think that, in the arts, women have an easier time rising to the top. [But] leadership imbalances persist in both artistic and administrative roles.”
These imbalances often exist not just because glass ceilings are still firmly in place, but also because, according to research, we women worry a lot more than men about whether or not we can have careers and children. And with that worry comes other nasty emotions. Cott references Susan K. Perry, Ph.D.’s blog: “Guilt comes with the territory, it seems to me. And even when you try to make everyone happy you fail.”
This last statement is more of a greater truth, but it hits home all the more when you are a working parent. I spend almost every minute of every day in service to my kids or my job, and the prospect of failure (as my warped brain defines it) hovers around me, constant as a shadow. I found the work/kids/marriage/life balance very challenging after my first child was born, just over two years ago, and now that I have a second little boy, it’s all the more intense.
Parenting, if you choose it to be, is one of the strongest forms of activism. You can choose to help create a better world through raising children who believe in respect, kindness, courage, love, and service to those around them. So as much as I am consumed with love for my boys, I also believe that if I do my job right, they will have at least the opportunity to do great things on scales small and large.
And yet, I feel I have something to offer the world beyond two healthy, happy little boys. I believe that my community is worth my blood, sweat, tears, and time. And I believe that the arts can transform lives, and that the arts are the vehicle through which I want to make a difference. And so I’m here, in this office, rather than home with my boys. Because I want to do both: be a great parent, and a great executive director. I want my boys to feel secure and loved and capable of whatever they want to do, and I also want this community to thrive with endless opportunities of engagement, expression, and inspiration. And, obviously, these two wants are deeply intertwined.
So I choose to do both. The challenge for me, every day, is how to do both well. I don’t have clear answers, and I think “success” will look a little different, every day. At the moment, all I can do is dig in, and get started.