With a Stanford degree and a high profile career as an advertising executive, Wendy Petersmeyer used to be the very model of a successful '80s career woman. Boarding the train in Menlo Park at 7 each morning, she would put in at least 12 hours a day at her San Francisco office overseeing a $30 million account for Sprint telecommunications.
When the client needed her to work weekends, she did it. When commercials needed to be produced, she would jet off to studios in New York or Los Angeles.
Petersmeyer, '76, still puts in long hours on the job. But these days her meetings focus on the local school budget, and her clients are likely to be wearing Brownie uniforms and sipping chocolate milk. "I'm just amazed--I've been at home full time with my children now almost as long as I was in the work force," says Petersmeyer, the mother of three daughters, ages 5, 9 and 11. Sometimes she wonders how far she might have gone if she'd stayed in the corporate fast lane. "I just couldn't figure out how to combine that kind of a job with a family life," she says. "I was unwilling to delegate my mothering."
Like many Stanford alumnae who graduated in the past 20 years, Petersmeyer never thought she would have to choose between her career and family life. She'd be Supermom, balancing a stack of advertising copy on one hip and a baby on the other; after all, that's what was expected of women in her generation. Yet now, years later, even the most accomplished women are questioning whether the costs of doing it all are just too high.
A national survey published by the Pew Research Center this past Mother's Day shows that only 29 percent of American mothers believe parents can often do a good job of childraising if both mom and dad work. In a 1995 survey, Juliet Schor, author of The Overworked American, found that 28 percent of her respondents recently had made voluntary lifestyle changes that involved significant financial sacrifices, including moving to less stressful jobs, turning down promotions or refusing relocation. And while two-income families are still the norm in much of the country—particularly in expensive housing markets—the Department of Labor reports that the huge increase in the number of working mothers during the past two decades seems to be leveling off. "Never before in history have so many women who worked outside the home faced the prospect of returning to the home, whether it be for three months, three years or permanently," write Darcie Sanders and Martha Bullen in their book, Staying Home. "Competent, accomplished, professional women, some with a decade of advanced schooling and another decade of job experience, are giving up their on-the-job identities for a new one: at-home mom."
Nowhere is this more evident than among Stanford alumnae, most of whom, as students, never gave much thought to the friction between work and family. In his 1994 book, Cream of the Crop, Stanford Professor Herant Katchadourian noted that 57 percent of mothers in his Class of '81 sample had spent at least a year at home caring for their infant children in the first decade after graduation, and one out of four had stayed home three or more years. The percentages of full-time homemakers and part-time workers were expected to increase, he said, as more children arrived and spousal incomes grew.
Even current Stanford students are rethinking the balancing act. While the number of freshmen who aspire to be full-time homemakers is still microscopic, the proportion of incoming female students who feel that raising a family is important or essential has grown dramatically, from about 50 percent in 1977 to nearly 70 percent last year, according to an annual survey of freshmen conducted by the American Council on Education.
Stanford professors and career counselors report that the work/family conundrum is clearly on the minds of many students. Myra Strober, a labor economist and professor of education, talks about the issue in her classes. She sees young women wondering how they'll raise children and have a demanding career. "It gives them a headache just thinking about it," says Strober. "Fifteen years ago, there was a certain kind of energy and enthusiasm about being a pioneer and doing something different. Now I think that's gone, and there's a more realistic view among students of what it will take."
Working Inside the home
A typical day in the life of Wendy Petersmeyer, '76, a Menlo Park resident and mother of three girls, Hilary, 11, Kristin, 9, and Molly, 5. Her husband, David Bagshaw, '76, works in Silicon Valley.
5:10 a.m. First alarm goes off.
5:30 a.m. Drive to fitness workout.
6:30 a.m. Shower, wake kids. Help them get ready for school with breakfast, bag lunches, projects, permission slips, sports paraphernalia.
7:30 a.m. Drive Hilary to school in Palo Alto.
8:15 a.m. Drive Kristin to school in Menlo Park.
8:45 a.m. Walk Molly to neighborhood bus stop.
9:00 a.m. Clean up kitchen, return phone calls and organize projects for the week.
10:45 a.m. Go to doctor's appointment in Palo Alto. Do a few errands.
12:20 p.m. Meet Molly's bus. Eat lunch at home. Help Molly with art project.
2:00 p.m. Go to local fruit market to get the week's supply of fruit.
3:00 p.m. Pick Hilary up from school and take her to orthodontist.
3:30 p.m. Pick up Kristin and her carpool and retrieve Hilary at orthodontist. Snacks and down time before the afternoon sports brigade.
4:30 p.m. Drive soccer carpool to South Palo Alto and head to Los Altos to deliver Hilary to her volleyball game. Sort through a grocery bag full of mail.
6:30 p.m. Game canceled. Head to the nearest restaurant with Grandma and three tired and hungry kids.
8:00 p.m. Return to the house for baths, homework and reading with David's help.
10:00 p.m. Moment of rest and conversation with David.
Turning Points
The question of whether to quit working--or even cut back to part time--can be agonizing. While some women plan to leave the workplace long before the baby is born, many others reach the decision only after carefully laid child-care plans go awry: A much-loved baby sitter quits or the day-care center raises its fees. Some women become frustrated with the unyielding demands of the workplace. An inflexible boss, a missed promotion or job
insecurity can tip the scales to full-time motherhood. Others leave the fast track after the birth of a second or third child, or when they find themselves struggling to care for an elderly parent or for a child with special needs.
"I find it is a decision that many women come to after having children. It takes them time to get to that point," says Kathleen E. Sullivan, director of Stanford's WorkLife Center, which offers support to University employees seeking dependent care. Many women believe they will be able to keep working after they have a baby. But then, Sullivan says, reality sets in and they realize how attached they are to their children.
Melanie Chladek, '76, a former chief financial officer at Objectivity, Inc., recently downshifted after years of juggling a full-time job and two children at home. Now she's working part time for an Internet start-up----and volunteers as treasurer for the school PTA. "After almost 10 years of having full-time child care, I wanted to manage my own home and family," she explains. "I think it's important to be with your family while you are still the center of their lives."
For Petersmeyer, the former advertising executive, the turning point came shortly after the birth of her first child. She had planned to take just six weeks of maternity leave, but anxiety set in when she started interviewing nannies. One otherwise qualified candidate told her that a typical day with the baby would be spent browsing at Stanford Shopping Center. "I finally decided I just could not leave this child with a stranger," she says.
Petersmeyer finally went to the personnel office at the advertising agency where she worked and asked for a part-time position promoting business development. "They told me they didn't want to set a precedent allowing women to work part time," she says, still bitter about the agency's decision. "That was hard for me. I was so productive, and I had excellent relationships with my clients. But I was not willing to give up the time with my infant. So I resigned."
Fairy Tales
For many women, of course, having the choice to stay home full or even part time with their children sounds like a Disney fairy tale. Just ask the ranks of single mothers or two-income couples merely striving to match what their parents had: the chance to own a decent home near a decent school. Sally Longyear, '83, an ergonomics specialist at SRI Inc., is among the 65 percent of mothers with children under 3 working in the Bay Area. Recently, she and her husband Rick, '82, a biology teacher and swimming coach at Menlo-Atherton High School, bought a house that will enable their two young children to attend Palo Alto schools. "To be honest, my motivation [to work full time] is the mortgage payment," she says. "I get a huge amount of professional satisfaction out of working to prevent workplace injuries. I just wish I didn't have to do it every day."
For other Stanford women, the ties to the workplace are as much intellectual as financial. "There is no mommy track in this job," says Deborah Gordon, an associate professor of biological sciences at Stanford and the adoptive mother of a 2-year-old. "Although there are many days when I hate to leave Sam at day care, I really don't want to stop working. It's very important to me."
Working Outside the Home
A typical day in the life of Kathleen Peterson, '82, a partner in a small law firm in Irvine, Calif. She is the mother of Jess, 6, and Will, 5, and is married to Mark Peterson, '83, a lawyer.
5:30 a.m. Get up.
6:15 a.m. Play with Jess and Will. Pay bills and go through the mail.
7:00 a.m. Start the boys in the shower, pick out clothes and let my live-in babysitter take over while I get dressed. Eat breakfast together.
8:00 a.m. Steal 10 minutes reading school notices while Will finishes breakast. Read to Jess until Will is ready.
8:45 a.m. Drop off Will at school; go to Java Hut for a drive-through cappuccino.
10 a.m. Read a case on standards for granting summary judgment in age discrimination suits.
11:30 a.m. Edit motion to comply with court rules.
Noon Lunch with clients.
2:30 p.m. Respond to birthday
invitation for Jess. Have conference call with Mark and neighbor to figure
out carpooling problem.
5:00 p.m. Leave office for 20-minute commute home.
6:00 p.m. Change clothes and relax until babysitter goes off duty. Make phone calls to confirm the boys' schedule and weekend plans.
7:00 p.m. Eat dinner with Mark while boys finish dessert.
8:00 p.m. Clean the kitchen and try to steal a half hour at the piano while Mark plays with the boys.
8:30 p.m. Get boys ready for bed, which includes reading aloud and lots of questions about monsters in the closets and why they can't watch Seinfeld. Take last requests for water.
9:30 p.m. Finally get to talk and watch a movie or television with Mark. Go to sleep by 11.Creative Approaches
Then there are the women who find that the rewards of full-time employment don't justify the effort--but who can't manage, financially or mentally, to quit work completely. Frustrated by the stark choice between full-time mothering and full-time working, many of these women now are discovering creative solutions that offer a bit of both worlds. Some stay home for several years, until their children are settled in school. Others work part time or telecommute from home offices. "I have a great arrangement," says Frances Dinkelspiel, '81, who works three days a week as a reporter for the San Jose Mercury News. "I have sacrificed my career by taking the 'mommy track, ' " she acknowledges, "but I prefer it to working full time and mothering."
Even some alumnae who have poured years into postgraduate work, such as lawyers and physicians, are trading in their crushing workloads for schedules that offer more flexibility. Family practitioner Jana L.T. Linfield, '81, a mother of two young sons, is working two or three days a week plus one on-call weekend a month serving the Native American community in Juneau, Alaska. Another Stanford-educated physician, Kathryn Clark, '76, has adopted a similar part-time schedule in her San Francisco ob-gyn practice. It's not a perfect arrangement, but at least she can be a room parent for her kindergarten son. "I still remember my mom bringing the cupcakes for Valentine's Day in grade school," she says. "Maybe that's why I've decided that making cupcakes is a rewarding part of my life."
Perhaps one of the best ways to take control of the juggling act is to become your own boss. After her second child was born, Kerry Cody, '87, hoped to find a job-sharing partner so she could work halftime in marketing. When that didn't pan out, she started a
consulting business in her Redwood City basement where she sets her own work hours. Today, both the business and her young family are thriving. "I've considered all of the options and have watched my friends face the same decisions," says Cody, who recently gave birth to a third child. "We have each made our choices based on what suits us best individually. I realize that I've created my situation and if I don't like it, I can change it."
Ronalyn Sisson Calistri, '86, the mother of a 3-year-old, left legal defense work after her son was born to start her own attorney staffing firm in Philadelphia. She currently works about four-and-a-half days a week, a schedule that, among other things, allows her to carpool on Thursdays. "Am I happy?
Absolutely," says Calistri, whose husband is also an attorney. "I have been able to create a career for myself very close to my original
career as an attorney."
Paying the Price
For all the benefits of flexibility, there are, of course, significant costs. Women who decide to be full-time mothers or to create a life balanced between work and home, find that family income suffers. Those who can absorb the loss with savings or a husband's salary may pay a different price. Many who worked hard for advanced degrees in male-dominated science or engineering fields worry about losing ground while they're home changing diapers or shuttling the kids. Business or law graduates may find themselves permanently shut out of the race for partnership.
For women who choose to stop out altogether, there's the risk of lost identity. Strober notes that unlike homemakers in Japan, stay-at-home mothers in the United States often talk about having to justify their decision to be "just" a mom. "It's not that these women don't like the homemaker role," says Strober. "It's just that they wish they didn't feel guilty, or weren't made to feel guilty about doing this."
Some career women find that staying home is, well, a bit boring. They miss the stimulation of the workplace. Susan Coleman Bennett, '81, worked as a management trainer until her children were born. Then she set up shop as a home-based consultant for nonprofit organizations, but found that trying to manage a business with her toddler and preschooler often underfoot was too difficult. Last summer, she decided to take a "sabbatical" from the business altogether. "I've been home with the kids for almost six months now," she says, "but I feel very conflicted. I know I'm lucky to have the choice to stay home, but honestly it is not all that interesting."
Unlike the homemakers of previous generations, nearly all of today's young stay-at-home moms see themselves as stopping out rather than dropping out of the paid workforce. Most plan to get back onto the career track when their children are older. But that may be difficult. They'll be competing not only with men in their fields, but with women who have continued on the fast track whether they have children or not.
Re-entering the workforce will be smoother for some than others. For example, women who want to be teachers will have an easier time returning to work than engineers or corporate officers, says Strober.
In the end, though, there may be room enough for optimism. Consider the Stanford grad who faced similar issues when she was a young mother in the early 1960s. A 1950 graduate who earned her law degree here in '52, she took five years out of the paid workforce after her second son was born, keeping herself busy and visible in volunteer work for the Phoenix Junior League and the Salvation Army. Later, when her youngest went off to school, she went back to work part time in the state attorney general's office.
Staying home with her children during those years ultimately didn't hamper her career, she told the author of a 1991 book, Answers to the Mommy Track. She added that today's young graduates could fare even better than she did. "One help is that nowadays women live longer," she says. "We spend more years in employment and really have time for a couple of careers. So if a few years are taken out, all is not lost."
The woman, by the way, is Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.
Theresa Johnston, '83, is a Palo Alto freelance writer and frequent contributor to Stanford. She is the mother of two school-age sons.
