Going back to work

There is nothing like making a mistake to learn. And nothing like experiencing a situation first-hand to make you aware of the subtleties of the psychology surrounding it.

I’ve been thinking about how the difference between offering the option to stop the tenure clock for maternity leave and automatically stopping it affects women and the groups in which they work. About how the second option normalizes the practice instead of making it something you have to worry about doing lest someone think you are lazy or not capable enough. And about how to think about other options, in service of work-life balance, could be made standard instead of having to be sought out in secrecy (or not at all) - counseling, for instance. What if every new group member in a research group had a one hour chat with a counselor or social worker who could talk about a variety of issues, from depression to communication with the group leader or peers, to to settling into a new culture (for those from another country)?

And while I’m thinking about this, I find myself having to pump milk, during the work day, at a new job. I’m just starting to meet people, and here I am, worried about putting a bottle of milk in the group refrigerator without its cooler pack. I should have brought a paper bag for it, I realize, because putting a warm bottle in a thermos casing in a refrigerator is kind of defeating the purpose of both the fridge and the thermos casing. There is food in that bottle, so of course it can go in a food fridge, but the fact that it came from my breasts instead of from the udder of a cow makes a difference. I worry about offending someone.

Part of me thinks “well, if pin-up posters and sexist comments have happened in these halls” (hypothetically), then who cares if I make someone uncomfortable. But a bottle of breastmilk is not the same as a pin-up poster. It is food. I shouldn’t even have to justify it. And yet I’m keenly aware of feeling like I do. A jar of baby food or a box of formula would be fine - they came from other teats and from the earth, but not something of a human breast.

Hmm.

Nothing like experiencing something firsthand to make you think, “yes, there should be a dedicated pumping room, with a lock, and safe fridge in each building.” And about 2 hours ago, I wasn’t sure.