Our Daughters’ Daughters Will Adore Us
Jennifer Carleton, partner, Brownstein Hyatt Farber Schreck
For those of you who don’t have the entire Mary Poppins lyrical catalogue memorized, this is
from Mrs. Banks’ song about her work with the women’s suffrage movement:
“Our daughters’ daughters will adore us, and sing out in grateful chorus, Well done!, Sister
Suffragette!”
When I was a kid, this song was my least favorite part of the movie. The mom was so earnest
and annoying, so incredibly disengaged from Jane and Michael, whom she referred to as “the
children.”
I rethought this part of Mary Poppins as an adult and working mother after reading I Don’t Know
How She Does It, the all-too-close-to-home tale of a London investment banker with two
children under the age of 7. In the book, the main character is watching Mary Poppins with her
daughter, who asks “what’s a suffer jet?” The mom explains about women’s right to vote and
says, “Because back then, in the olden days, women and men were—well, girls stayed at home
and it was thought that they were less important than boys.”
Mary Poppins came out in 1964. When I was a kid, they would show this movie on TV once a
year and occasionally at the drive-in theater. By the time I had my daughter, we could buy a
DVD and watch it at home anytime. I suppose if my 15-year-old wanted to watch it tonight, we
would download it from Netflix. When I got home from work. Later.
Will our daughters’ daughters sing out in grateful chorus to us? I doubt it. I think women in their
20s and early 30s are incredibly grateful for all of the sacrifices that have been made by women
to get to where we are, but I don’t think it occurs to them that they are standing on our shoulders.
In the same way that a 7-year-old girl watching Mary Poppins can’t conceive of a time when
women couldn’t vote (or that she couldn’t watch the movie whenever she wanted—without
commercials!), a working mother today can’t conceive of a time when she could lose her job just
because she had children.
There is a lot of space between having a job and having a career. I have two children and work
full-time in a law firm. I know that my job is not in jeopardy because I am a mother (thank you,
Family Medical Leave Act), but is my status as full-time mom a factor in my career? Reasonable
minds can, and certainly do, differ.
“Availability,” “commitment,” “dedication” and “responsiveness” are subjective criteria by
which we are all judged. If my clients think that my priorities are at home, I could lose work.
Since I’m an incredibly proud and committed mom, my priorities are at home (or at school, or on
the soccer field). All priorities are my first priority—long live Supermom!
While not all employers perceive that women with children are less available or committed to
their jobs than men with children, it is true that women with children are not compensated in the
same way as men with children.
A study last month from the City University of New York reported that men with children
outearned men and women without kids, as well as working moms in New York City (the study
was based on U.S. Census Bureau data between 1990 and 2010). Women with children earned an
average of 41 percent less than men with children within all levels of education and in all five
categories of employment—management/professionals, service, sales, construction/natural
resources, and production/transportation.
There are real-world consequences associated with our priorities, and with our perceptions of
other people’s priorities.
We are drowning in opinions on working mothers, compensation disparity, defining success,
work-life balance and “leaning in.” I have the privilege to know and work with women that I
would define as incredibly successful, and I am convinced that they would not define themselves
that way. I recently asked one of my partners how she was doing and she started to answer and
then burst into tears. She missed her baby and wanted to be at home. It was just that simple, on
that day.
For me, every day is that day. I haven’t made it to every Mother’s Day tea or school play, nor
have I been on every client call. I try to give myself permission to do the best I can every day,
both professionally and personally. I try and make the best choices I can each day based on what
is going on right now. I hope that I’m successful at it.
Our daughters’ daughters may not sing out in grateful chorus, but mine did write me a poem
when I told her I was working on this column:
“Atticus Finch inspired a nation
A lawyer’s career its dear aspiration
Of the bright young law students, with lofty education
Few high courtroom dreams would reach realization
Yet there was a chance of lucrative consolation
By joining the ranks of the gaming conglomeration.”