A friend of mine had a cupcake moment tonight. Her son's birthday party at school is tomorrow, and she ruined the cupcakes she was making for it. Of course this happened not at the reasonable hour of 7 p.m. or something, but at 10:30. She'll probably get up at 5 tomorrow. My colleague's cupcake moment reminded me of two things. First, of my own cupcake moment a year ago, when I ruined the cupcakes I was making, late at night of course, for my own kids' birthday treat the next day to share with their class. Fortunately I had the ingredients to start all over and make a second batch. Second, it reminded me of this essay written by one of my departmental colleagues.
Before my colleague published that essay in the Chronicle, she read it at a panel forum on campus about balancing work and life. Characteristically, she did not just show up to the forum to share a few rambling thoughts about her experiences, as the other panel members did. Instead, she carefully prepared and shared with us a couple of insightful vignettes that so well encapsulated some of the impossible and competing pressures she faced as a working mother. These stories were infused with my colleague's contagious humor and sincerity.
She told them so well, and the second one, the one about her daughter getting sick in the elevator, moved me so much because I could so easily see myself in that position. I didn't even have kids yet, but at that time, dealing with the tenure track alone seemed impossible. What I wanted to do, have a family on top of it, seemed impossible. The pressure was so overwhelming, in the moment of that discussion, that I struggled not to start sobbing right there in the audience.
My colleague, who I adore, was untenured at the time, and what she said at the end of her talk has stayed with me forever. She said, "If the university grants me tenure, then they are so lucky to get to keep me. And if they don't, then fuck 'em!"
And I wanted to jump out of my chair and cheer for her.
She got tenure.
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