When Does One Cease to Be a Specialist

Most women tend to be more humble about their job expertise than men. This is what I've read in several studies. Whereas men exaggerate their skills, women point out their shortcomings. I, for one, would never call myself an expert, even though I worked on minority policy and security for several years following my first masters degree, read the complete works of Nietzsche twice (in english and german) when I started my PhD, and wrote my second master's thesis on HIV/AIDS and kept up-to-date on the topic for another year or two while working in development policy.  But ask me today what I'm a specialist in, and I wouldn't be able to answer, as I am not currently working. I would, from an outside perspective, position myself in a critical stage. Many of my work contacts are still in their positions, so I can do some useful name-dropping to compensate for my lack of up-to-date expertise knowledge. But in a year or so, I know this is unlikely to be the case. I think this is the greatest danger for stay-at-home moms who want to return into their established careers (and not do inspiring and gutsy things like start their own business): they no longer can answer essential job market questions on "what" and "whom" do you know, which are key(s)...

Value of a Person

I have been having slightly philosophical thoughts this week, perhaps because I have been spending so many evenings doing manual work (sewing and building furniture for my eldest's new room). My main "big" train of thought has been how to value a person. Perhaps the question itself is wrong, but modern society compels us to see ourselves in terms of productive value (easiest measured by income). I often like to think that people are valuable in creating better conditions or happiness for those around them. This goes way beyond anything material, and is something I strive to do. Here the value of parents can be more easily measured (beyond the sum of incomes of a cleaner, cook, shopper, interior designer, entertainer, nurse, etc). But what about people like - and this triggered these thoughts of mine originally - the drunk homeless person on the corner of the  street? Surely many of these people have been productive (income wise) and helpful (producing happiness in e.g. their friends and family) before. And surely they are valuable, for some larger reason? Why do we primarily measure ourselves in terms of costs to society, and value we produce? A few simple thoughts on a larger meaning-of-life-size issue.

Parents' Sanity Clock

I often wish I would come up with a briliant, profit-exploding entrepreneurial idea. Surprisingly, I haven't. I have several projects in the pipeline, but I will keep these secret for now, to protect intellectual property rights and to avoid public humiliation. I have, however, recently come up with a new concept, called a "Parents' Sanity Clock". My youngest has inspired me to come up with this sanity-saving idea. It's simple: When there's a loud and repetitive "Mama" calling next to my bed at 5.30 am, I pretend it's 7am. And in the evenings, after all tasks have been done and to my horror it's already 11.30pm, and I'm only then ready to do what I actually wanted to do, I pretend it's only 8pm. This idea produces around zero profits, and has a huge price, which is even more sleep deprivation. But a bit of humor keeps one sane, right?

Are Moms Vital?

Every child deserves loving parents, I don't think anyone would disagree with that. I personally believe that it doesn't make a difference whether this means a mom and dad, two moms, two dads, or whatever else. As I have written several times, single parenting must be tough, but a single parent can surely be an amazing parent. I was thinking about this after a talk I had with a more senior person from a German development organization (his role is irrelevant, just a sidenote that I'm working on the job hunt). During our talk, we briefly sidetracked to mothers' difficulties in the job market, and he at some point made the following remark: children need their mothers more than their fathers. I find this an insult to all single dads, who may for whatever reason have to care for their kids alone. As if they were somehow less worthy, somehow less optimal parents. I also find such a comment an unnecessary burden for working mothers, feeding a guilt feeling that their primary role is to nurture. Some mothers may believe they are the more important parent. Some may want to play this role. But this should be a decision made within a family, not by society in a general way. As a sidenote, I favor the legal development that father's increasingly have custody entitelments after a divorce. Again, this depends on each individual case, but the assumption automatically made in the past that the mother is the "better" parent runs counter to my idea of sex equality and criteria for parenting.

And What Do You Do?

I'm back from Helsinki, where I spent four days with the kids. We did a lot (the weather was great), met some old friends and lots of relatives.

What struck me from this hugely unrepresentative sample (which I after the trip called "Finns" when telling stories to my husband) was that one of the first questions I was asked was always "And what do you do (for work)?"

In Berlin, ever since I have had kids (one/two/three), I have had to explicitly let slip into a conversation that I work. It used to drive me crazy that people were discussing work left and right of me at parties, and just assumed that because I have kids, I don't work.

An example of compatibility of work and family in Finland: A friend of mine, who recently had a baby, told me that she is planning on returning to work when her child turns one. She simply informs her employer when she will return, and what percentage she will start working at, and how she will spread this out (in her case around 80% over four days).

ps. Not representative. Anecdotal. But it sure sounds easier.
pps. My Berlin "dinner-party problem" (men have much more interesting conversations) didn't exist in Finland. Again, my sample was hugely unrepresentative, but for the first time in ages, I didn't feel like it made any difference whether I was talking to a woman or man - nor did I feel treated differently by either sex.