No Shenanigans Necessary
One Guilt-Free Trip to AWP in the Books
AWP Seattle 2023
The very last AWP panel I attended in Seattle was titled, Impossible Balance: Re-Examining the Narrative about Writing and Parenting. I was super excited about this one, because obviously, this is our jam.
(I mean, we almost named our podcast this exact same title, but we decided First Words is a little snappier.)
After the panelists introduced themselves, one of them addressed the room. “How many of you had to pull some shenanigans at home in order to be here?” There were a few chuckles in recognition. I gazed across the room of mostly mother writers. Many hands went up.
Then the panelist asked, “How many of you have been putting out fires from afar while attending AWP?” Again, many hands, and some sighs.
The last question for us parents (which included a handful of dads and nonbinary parents): “How many of you feel guilty for being here?” Hands up with head nods.
In response to these three questions, I did not raise my hand. Not once.
Arriving at this place in parenthood and in partnerhood did not come without substantial push back on my part. In fact, when the opportunity of attending AWP arose I felt guilty about bringing it up to my husband. It felt frivolous to go away for something that wasn’t absolutely necessary, even if directly tied to professional development.
In the past year (prior to the AWP Conference), I had left my family for three separate extended trips: two MFA residencies, and one trip to Chicago to care for my mom after knee-replacement surgery. During each of these trips away, my husband had backup from grandparents. He also had help in the form of a multi-page parenting manual I meticulously created to ensure his success while I was away. The manual contained:
An itemized list of what needs to go to school each day
Days & times of extracurricular activities (w/ addresses)
Address and contact info of birthday parties to attend while I’m gone
Reminder re: birthday gifts to take to parties (all pre-wrapped w/ cards attached)
Detailed instructions on what to include in packed lunches (napkins, disposable utensils for child 1 because he can’t be trusted to bring home silverware, regular utensils for child 2, ice packs, yogurt squeezes, clean canteen of water – don’t forget the ice, berries for child 1 & grapes for child 2 – child 1 hates grapes & child 2 hates berries, etc.)
Being the default parent means being the parent who holds all of this information (plus, bonus information like the names of our kid’s best friend’s parents) in one, sleep-deprived brain. But, you know, I kept it short because I didn’t want to overdo it. Plus, my husband would have extra hands on deck for assistance. (Hooray for grandparents!)
Note: when my husband goes away, he just goes. No shenanigans. No parenting manual left in his absence. Sometimes I get a grandparent to support me while he is gone. (Always appreciated!) However, I’ve cared for the kids many times on my own. No phone calls to my husband to put out fires. No guilt on his part.
(Actually scratch that. I just asked him and yes, he does feel guilty when he leaves me and the kids for extended periods of time. But only when I make him aware of a particularly rough patch.)
So, when I looked around at the parents in that AWP conference room with raised hands—parents who were putting out fires remotely and feeling guilty for being away—it was clear I was in a vastly different space. This must be what it feels like to be a dad, I thought.
I’d love to find a new angle on this topic. I’d love to find some fresh way to spin the imbalance of labor in the home. But I just can’t. Because millions of moms are still taking on a majority of the household responsibilities while pursuing career goals.
Consider these statistics:
In September of 2020, “over 1.1 million workers ages 20 and over dropped out of the labor force – meaning they are no longer working or looking for work. Of the workers who left the labor force, 865,000 (80.0%) were women.”
71% of women feel it’s their job to worry about and think through all potential scenarios of something bad happening.
76% of women believe they are largely responsible for unpaid labor and mental load at home.
Women are 40% more likely than fathers to report that childcare issues harmed their careers.
I translate all of this to mean:
Women are more often the parent to sacrifice their careers to care for dependents.
If women want to focus on their careers, shenanigans are required in order to set aside home and family-based responsibilities.
Moms are required to put out most of the fires, even if they are also putting out fires in the workplace.
Worry and guilt come with the territory.
Jazmine, you are not alone.
What changed in our home? Welp, it was a serious sit down moment where I laid it all out for my husband, pointed out all of the discrepancies, and placed my mental health and the wellbeing of our family atop a precarious tower of school work, employment, household duties, childcare, and mental labor. He’s starting to get it.
In the weeks that followed, my husband told me he wanted to fully understand each aspect of caring for our children and our home. He wanted to know how to brush our daughter’s hair and how to clean the cast iron skillet. He attended parent conferences without me. And I showed him how to properly dress Josefina (the American Girl doll who lives with us).
I’m still the default parent. But I’m getting more comfortable stepping away from that role when I need to put myself first. When I told my husband I wanted to go to AWP. He said, “Sounds awesome. Go!” So I bought my plane ticket and booked an Airbnb. No shenanigans necessary.
The day before I left, he said, “I don’t think I need that mom-manual while you’re gone.”
“I don’t think so either,” I replied.
My family only called me once while I was in Seattle. My son was worried about something at school and needed some words of encouragement. Not really a fire in my book. Just a little mama love sent over the phone. That’s all. I was gone for six glorious days, steeped in books and conversation and poetry—all things writerly and professional. Did I miss my kids? A little. Did I feel guilty for leaving them? Nope. Not one bit.
Resources:
American Association of University Women
Read more of Jazmine’s writing here.