Updated: Dec. 16, 2020 | Originally Published: May 16, 2012
A true story: I was an executive editor at a company preparing to go public. As a newly single mother and the primary caregiver for my children, I found myself navigating the challenging waters of work and parenting. One Thursday, I approached my boss to explain that I needed to leave by 4:30 p.m. for my 7-year-old’s school performance. The following morning, I would arrive an hour late for his class breakfast. “It’s fine,” I assured her. “I can catch up on editing from home.” I wasn’t seeking permission; rather, I wanted to keep her informed.
Her response surprised me: “You can’t do both. You have to pick one.” I was taken aback. Perhaps she was having a tough day, but her words felt excessively harsh. She warned me that with the impending IPO, my job was precarious, regardless of my performance, and that she could only shield me so much.
Ultimately, I chose to attend the performance. My son was upset during the breakfast, and three months later, I was let go. “We couldn’t even find you to fire you,” the HR representative told me as his opening line.
Looking back, my absences were not solely about school events; they included doctor appointments and out-of-office duties. As the company aimed to present a streamlined image to investors, my presence—or lack thereof—became a convenient justification.
This experience underscores the chaos of May Madness, a time when schools are filled with potluck breakfasts, performances, field trips, and a myriad of events that challenge every working parent’s schedule. It’s not that we don’t cherish our children or want to support them; we do. Yet, the rising number of obligations can feel overwhelming, and the fear of job loss looms large.
In her insightful book, The Tumbleweed Society: Working and Caring in an Age of Insecurity, sociologist Allison Pugh observes that half of the workforce in many Silicon Valley firms is replaced every two years. She notes that layoffs occur not only during recessions but also in prosperous times. This instability means we all tread carefully, as every school event could potentially be a reason for dismissal.
When I attended school in the 1970s, parental involvement was minimal. My parents, who worked long hours, seldom visited unless it was for a scheduled event at night. Today’s parents face mounting expectations for involvement, with the burden often falling heavier on those juggling demanding jobs, especially single parents like me.
LuAnne Carter, a mother of three and a schoolteacher in Pennsylvania, shared her frustration with the constant stream of requests: gifts for teachers, classroom pets, concert songs to memorize, and endless volunteer opportunities. In contrast, Brigitte Martin, a single mother and teacher in Luxembourg, finds things quite manageable. “In Europe, parents are not pressured for involvement,” she explains. “A cake for a summer feast is nice, but not required.”
Despite the stress, some American parents find joy in participating. Katie Adams, a CEO and mother of three, relishes every invitation, knowing these moments will eventually pass. Conversely, Elizabeth Thomas, an editor in California, expresses a desperate enthusiasm for events outside of work hours, feeling compelled to attend anything she can.
However, when I reached out for opinions on the matter, the response was overwhelmingly negative. Many parents feel stretched thin, caught between work and family obligations. Carol Blake, a single mother in Maryland, voiced her frustration: “I’m too busy to even write about it!”
So, what’s the solution? Should schools and corporations adapt? Should we embrace a Luxembourg-style approach, or strive for a balance between that model and the current American system? Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook’s COO, has advocated for work-life balance. She leaves the office at 5 p.m. to juggle her responsibilities. For single parents, the choice of attendance often carries greater weight and complexity.
I’ve been navigating these conflicting priorities for nearly two years, and my child has expressed his discontent. “You miss everything!” he lamented, though my absences were minor. His feelings reflect a deeper truth: while a corporation seeks profit, a parent’s goal is nurturing, and a child simply wants love and presence at school events.
These objectives often clash. It would be simplistic to say corporations should offer more flexibility, parents should accept their limitations, or schools should reduce involvement expectations. But change is possible.
When I became a parent in 1995, it was uncommon to see fathers carrying infants during work hours. By 2006, it became a welcomed sight. Similarly, if schools could ease up on parental demands—perhaps favoring potluck dinners over breakfasts or scheduling performances later in the evening—corporations might respond with greater flexibility.
I believe change can happen. But it requires advocacy: engage with school officials and employers to express the need for a more balanced approach.
Anyway, I must dash. It’s 4:30 p.m., and my child’s after-school program closes at 5:30 p.m. My office is an hour away. Fingers crossed I can slip out unnoticed.
Summary
The struggle of working parents to balance job demands and school obligations can be overwhelming, particularly during busy periods like May Madness. With rising expectations for parental involvement, many parents feel the pressure of potential job loss hanging over their heads. While some find joy in participating in school events, others feel stretched too thin. Advocating for a more balanced approach between work and parenting responsibilities is crucial for the well-being of families.