BY CHERYL NEALE-MCFALL
Through our research and personal experiences, we know that the struggle is real for mothers in academia, especially during this pandemic. My experience is consistent with the challenges described in “COVID-19, Academic Mothers, and Opportunities for the Academy,” an article I coauthored with Mary A. Hermann for the fall issue of Academe.
On a typical day, I am awakened by my alarm at 6:35 a.m., except it is not your typical buzzing alarm. It includes elbows and loud, silly laughs waking me from what seemed like two hours of sleep. My kids, six and seven, are up and ready to start the day—the same day that they had the day before, and the week before, and the month before. Somehow, they are still optimistic about starting the day. Perhaps because they have been creating papier-mâché hot-air balloons and homemade rocket launchers and so many cupcakes and cookies that I have hidden the scale in the closet. And, when I say ”they” have been creating, what I really mean is that I have been creating . . . and cleaning up the mess.
I am an associate professor at a large, public university in the Northeast and I have been a part of higher education for the past ten years. Last year, I decided to apply for an interim position as dean in the College of Education and Social Work. I was interested in management and administration and thought it would be an exciting way to ”test the waters” at a university where I was committed to the mission and valued the numerous dedicated and passionate faculty members. I started in my new position just seven months before COVID-19 upended my neatly structured and boundary-laden life. I am happy to say that I survived what was probably the most transformative experience in my career, and I have since moved into an interim associate provost for academic affairs position. Both of these administrative opportunities have given me an appreciation for the impossible decisions that are currently being made at universities.
I will just go ahead and put it out there: I am privileged to have a partner to assist with the life-load—one who is very helpful and hands-on as a parent. Nonetheless, this pandemic has exposed the stark realities of who does what, how it is done, and what is prioritized. My daily reality has included trying to come up with a fun alternative for my eight-year-old’s birthday party, trying to help my sister figure out if she would have to postpone her wedding, and FaceTiming with my 101-year-old grandmother, who has more wits about her than I do on any given pandemic day. And trying to weigh the pros and cons of taking my son in for a much-needed surgery while the COVID-19 cases continue to rise.
Maintaining structure and having a plan is what brings me peace after a long day. Before the pandemic, I would go into the office for the majority of the day and then come home and play with the kids, help with dinner, and find time to schedule the appointments, buy the birthday presents, make the lists, check in on friends and family, and manage the house—all of those invisible, mental tasks that seem to go unnoticed and have become expectations. These invisible tasks are what seem to have quadrupled since COVID-19. My kids are in first and third grade, and we are still schooling from home—every day. Both kids have Zoom accounts with usernames and passwords that change regularly to avoid “Zoom-bombing” encounters that could further traumatize their already confused psyches. My husband has to run in to explain the next assignment or help log them on, all while attempting to keep his job with a company furloughing thousands of employees weekly.
Since transitioning to working at home, my typical work day includes so many Zoom meetings that I now have a laundry list of things that I did not know about myself before (for example, my eyebrows are never even!). The biggest distraction is the constant interruptions by my two kids, but here is the thing: I fluctuate between being annoyed when they bust in the room to feeling guilty that I am not sitting with them as they participate in their classroom Zoom meetings. However, I cannot be in two places at once, and I really enjoy my job. I feel like I can be a better, more present and intentional mom because of my work. So, I try to push the guilt aside.
As the pandemic continues, and university leaders have appropriately decided to be remote next semester, self-care and mental-health wellness continue to be discussed. Although self-care is promoted, and we are encouraged to take a day off, all I can think about is: to do what? I will just be able to do more laundry and try to catch up with my ever-increasing to-do list. It also means that I will be inundated with even more emails and requests the following day. So, I try to implement other self-care ideas. For me, those things include taking twenty minutes after each workday to sit outside, alone, and appreciate nature. I also set up weekly sessions to vent and connect with my girlfriends. We are all in this together, and it is important to keep connected and share coping strategies. We also set up family game nights and movie nights and kid-free nights (they are still home with us—just not in the same five-foot vicinity).
Throughout all the chaos, there have also been some amazing moments. My son learned to ride his bike without training wheels and my daughter has perfected her round-off back handspring (with more than fifty videos to prove it!). And while there is no specific end date as to when we might move to our new sense of normalcy, I am trying to remember a few lessons: to appreciate family time and to keep in mind that a sunny day can make things much easier, a support group outside of one’s family is imperative, and that although life can be tough, so am I!
Guest blogger Cheryl Neale-McFall is the interim associate provost for academic affairs at West Chester University.
Articles from the current and past issues of Academe are available online. AAUP members receive a subscription to the magazine, available both by mail and as a downloadable PDF, as a benefit of membership.
