Academic Moms Need Support During the Pandemic — Here’s How
How am I doing handling this pandemic? Not great. This is like a marathon with no finish line. I’ve asked how other academic moms are doing. None of us are thriving. All of us feel like we are barely surviving. And many of us feel like we’re totally falling apart on a daily basis.
I am a mother to a very active 3-year old, an Assistant Professor in a soft money R1 institution, and I am immuno-compromised and taking meds that make me especially vulnerable to viruses. I have a supportive partner who shares the childcare, but we have no family close by that can help us with these new demands. Many days I feel as if I am drowning in the stress.
My personal situation is not unique. Pre-pandemic, I created an Academic Mamas group in my school to support moms who are balancing the challenges of pregnancy, mothering, breastfeeding, and working a challenging scientific career. When the pandemic hit, this group became a huge source of support for many of us who suddenly felt like we could not breathe with all of the additional responsibilities laid on us. Our group membership has grown considerably as a result. We now have biweekly Zoom calls just to talk through our challenges and validate each other’s struggles. These struggles range from single moms caring for toddlers while trying to teach remote courses, new moms trying to sleep and breastfeed and tend to academic activities, moms who need quiet focused time to write, and moms who worry they are spending so much time trying to keep up with work that they are neglecting their children.
I am also part of the Facebook group Academic Mamas, which is made up of 10,000+ academic moms from all over the world working in various higher education environments. There are numerous daily posts about students complaining a professor is holding a baby during virtual classroom sessions, department chairs talking about how this feels like an early retirement, senior colleagues with no children at home commenting on how productive they are right now, and moms with partners who are still working outside of the home or not contributing to domestic life in any way that resembles equal distribution of labor.
Academic moms are not okay.
But there are several ways for our colleagues, Chairs, Deans, and others to support us during this time. Below are the top suggestions that came from colleagues at my own university and from the Academic Mamas Facebook group. Given I am in a soft-money environment, many of my suggestions are geared that way. Other measures may need to be put into place for institutions more focused on teaching. Regardless, I hope this list generates ideas on ways to support us right now, or at minimum, is informative for those who are not balancing work and parenthood. It is already challenging enough to be a professional and a mother in our society without putting numerous supports into place. When all of those supports are suddenly taken away, that challenge feels nearly impossible.
Consider “hold harmless” notifications as opposed to extending the tenure clock.
Many universities have extended tenure clocks for a semester or academic year. This is helpful; however, it has financial implications for those who need to delay submitting promotion materials (and most of those who will delay are women). Instead, universities could allow faculty to put their non-essential scholarship on hold just like other non-essential services are paused right now. At one university, a Provost has included a letter in all portfolios for the current semester notifying promotion and tenure committees that they need to temporarily lower the bar for promotion.
Provide junior faculty with more support staff and student research assistants.
Prior to the pandemic, I was already baffled by the fact that junior faculty are expected to begin bringing in grants and publish numerous papers without any of the support staff that senior faculty with large grants employ. Now, the expectations for junior faculty (especially those with children) to bring in funding and publish seem largely unattainable. Departments and schools could invest in discretionary accounts so that those faculty who are struggling right now can bring on extra support temporarily to help carry them through this crisis. Much like communities are buying gift cards from their favorite local businesses that have temporarily closed or getting takeout to support local restaurants, colleagues who are able can donate their discretionary money or time to help junior faculty who are struggling.
Support the most vulnerable with an academic community response.
Beating this pandemic is entirely dependent on a community response. Retaining junior faculty during this pandemic is also dependent on a community response. Such a response in the academic setting could include faculty without current caregiving responsibilities inviting junior faculty to contribute to their publications, not necessarily as a lead, but as a co-author. Those without caregiving responsibilities could also include junior faculty on their grant applications, taking some of the burden off the individual to be entirely self-sufficient in obtaining funding. Senior faculty can also offer to do guest lectures to give faculty who are entertaining children while trying to teach a bit of a reprieve.
Limit meetings as much as possible.
Many departments are in the habit of holding weekly or monthly faculty or project team meetings. Right now, meetings should only occur when absolutely necessary and be as concise as possible. For some colleagues, meetings are a way to maintain a sense of normalcy and social contact. I get that. But for those with children at home, meetings can be stressful as you are trying to keep children from constantly interrupting. They also take away precious hours that could be spent writing, pursuing grants, or prepping for classes.
Come up with ways you can support junior faculty with children, rather than asking what they need.
When a woman has a newborn baby, the most supportive people are those that come over and cook meals, hold the baby while she showers, and do a load of laundry. While “let me know if you need any help” is a thoughtful gesture, it places the burden on the woman to figure out what someone can do. The same can be said right now for junior faculty with children. While we appreciate Chairs and other colleagues who offer help, we would love it if those individuals would brainstorm ways to support us and then present us with the list. That way we do not have to do the labor of thinking through options.
Think “business as best we can” rather than “business as usual”.
While we would all like to go about “business as usual”, now is the time for “business as best we can”. While some may think that Newton’s productivity during the Spanish influenza is inspiring, let’s not forget that he did not have children to care for. And who was taking care of the sick and dying during that pandemic? Undoubtedly, it was women. While there are usually good intentions from academic leaders who assure their community and students that they are operating as usual just remotely during this time, this is nearly impossible for those who also have caregiving duties. Using language such as “business as best we can” relieves faculty from feeling like they need to be working their usual 40, 50, 60+ hours per week while also tending to children. One colleague at another university said her Chair specifically noted that a 20–25-hour work week is what should be considered full-time right now.
I acknowledge that there are other individuals with additional stressors beyond children that are struggling right now. Just look at the way COVID-19 is disproportionately affecting people of color (many of whom have more caregiving responsibilities). My suggestions are simply coming from the academic mom viewpoint. But I believe if applied universally in some form, they can help to alleviate stress for our entire community and allow us to emerge from this crisis more in tune with the disparities our society creates and the struggles that academic faculty (particularly those with children) often silently endure. Clearly, COVID-19 is disproportionately impacting vulnerable populations. Is academia simply going to perpetuate these societal disparities, or can we strive for equity?
