mighty Momma and Friend

You know how you have that friend at work that sort of keeps you going? The one to whom you kvetch when corporate belt-tightening means they limit you to three free pens a year? The one with whom you share your deepest fears that your work will never be recognized like it is in the office next door because you're X and they're Y? The one who you're not afraid to tell you think you're doing great at work but shitty at home, or vice versa? Well, I have one of those, and her name is Jen. One of the things Jen and I share are book recommendations, and it is to her that I owe this post on Drop the Ball by Tiffany Dufu.

There are so many good things about this book, that I don't know quite where to begin, so for pure ironic virtue, I think I'll begin with the blue couch. That's right, a couch.

Dufu (of the White House Project and Levo League) is a driven career woman with big dreams of making the world a better place. Her meticulously planned ascent to the top suddenly goes off the rails when she finds herself a new mother, working full time at two jobs (one being child rearing and managing a home and the myriad scheduling and logistical tasks that suddenly materialize when one reproduces). In a particularly relatable passage she describes lying in bed--shattered from a day of manic productivity--and hearing her husband come home, leave his shoes on the floor, eat a dinner she's made, leave his dirty dishes in the sink, and then sit on their blue couch. Meanwhile, she's unable to sleep because she's cycling through all the things that still need to get done. My guess is that most working mothers can relate to this vignette, but I must say that for me, there was a special kismet: we too have a blue couch, a blue couch that sometimes feels like a fifth appendage of my husband's body.

Dufu makes a strong and well-substantiated argument that until women ask and allow (rest assured, the responsibility is not solely placed on men) men to be equal contributors in home and family life, women cannot rise to their full potential in business, education, government...in short, in the world. Until that happens, the world won't change...and holy Me Too, it needs to.

Throughout the book, Dufu shares much of her life story including early experiences with a church that sidelined her due to her chromosomes, her father and mother's enduring support for her--despite divorce, financial struggles, and estrangement from her mother--and the course of her relationship with her husband, who despite his early couchiness, rises right alongside his wife. While some aspects of her life course are very different from my own, many will be familiar to most women, and many capture the ways in which women are taught--from early childhood--multiple conflicting messages. The first, that we are smart and valuable--but not as much as men--is poignantly illustrated in the telling of her father's continual support for her her public speaking and leadership endeavors--including leading family prayer--while heading a church that doesn't allow a woman to lead prayer if a man is present. A larger and more subtle message is the one Dufu unconsciously slips into once she enters adulthood and marriage: You can have it all, you just have to do it all. Like many women, it is not until Dufu becomes a mother that this superwoman role finally becomes too much, and much of the book is dedicated to decimating this unfair edict and providing practical suggestions for how to do so.

Dropping the Ball

As the title suggests, Dufu's primary advice regarding how to do this is simple: Drop the ball. Until talented women stop doing everything, and doing most of it well, nothing will change. Put more simply, before someone else can pick up the ball, women have to drop it. Perhaps the most memorable illustration of this advice is when Dufu asks her husband to take over the small daily task of sorting the mail. He agrees and does it...for one day. Weeks go by, and then he leaves to work overseas for three months. When he returns, the mail is still waiting for him...collections notices and all. The experience illustrates two important lessons in dropping the ball: (1) once you drop it, don't pick it back up...ever, and (2) dropping the ball--like most sports skills--gets easier with practice.

Ask for Help

The "mail drop" episode illustrates another important point in Dufu's book: that the first step is asking our partners for help. I could relate to Dufu's struggle to do this, and the assumptions she made along the way. Cultural expectations, she notes, go both ways. In the same way that women have been conditioned to believe that the dishes in the sink and the cleanliness of the home are largely "on them," men have been conditioned to believe the same things. For both of us, these assumptions are largely unconscious. So when your husband walks by the sink full of dirty dishes for three weeks in a row (true story), he's not deliberately, passive-aggressively leaving it for you...he legitimately thinks you just haven't gotten to it yet and, since the home is the woman's realm, he doesn't really notice it that much in the first place. You think you're in a stand-off; he thinks you're just taking a new laid back approach to life around the house. Dufu does a great job of illustrating how struggles like this happen and how they are only solved by honest, brave, repeated communication. What's more, I think she gets at the root of why women are so reluctant to speak up: somewhere deep down we believe these are our responsibilities and we believe that "doing it all" is the bargain we made to be "allowed" to...well, exist.

Re-Framing

One of the most valuable aspects of this book was how Dufu was able to re-frame her frustration with her husband (and cultural assumptions in general) into a better understanding of him and ultimately a better, more loving relationship. Too often, I find myself seething about the inequality in home and childcare workload--despite attempts like Dufu's at sticker charts and the like. Her book helped me to reframe that conflict in new ways that are ultimately healthier and more supportive for the whole family. I also really appreciated the creativity shared in how her family--in which both parents travel regularly for work and one lives overseas--still managed to create an "all in" partnership. One example: Her husband, while living in Dubai, managed anything that could be handled via email, text, or phone call. Brilliant!

Letting Go

The other piece that Dufu illustrates--not exactly news to me, but the reminder is always helpful--is that sometimes "doing it all" is a way of controlling it all. When I don't let my husband clean marker off the (blue) couch using a washcloth--because that's what rags are for and, Jesus, we have marker all over our couch, can't we at least keep the washcloths nice?--that deincentivizes him helping with tasks like cleaning the couch off--a task for which I definitely want his help (How does a toddler get SO much marker on a couch in such a short space of time?). Dufu makes the case that, because women have historically only been in control of the home, they are loathe to release that control--a type of scarcity mindset--even though they now have tremendous responsibility and potential in the workforce.

Towards the end of the book, Dufu discusses her spiritual views on her children (To paraphrase a beautiful phrase: "if they had needed something different, they would have chosen a less ambitious mother") and her relationship with her own mother--a part of the book that brought tears to my eyes--and shares a particularly moving insight: While she was able to accept imperfection in nearly everyone in her life, she had yet to accept it in herself. The ultimate ball drop, therefore, is admitting that we are human and that no one can "do it all."

Highest Contribution

Dufu also makes a convincing case that working mothers should think long and hard about editing their lives to better focus their energy on making their highest contribution. Hers is "advancing women and girls" and while Dufu's repetition of phrases like these can be grating throughout the book, I think I get the choice: a mantra keeps us focused. In a concrete example (I'm always a fan of these) she goes through a To Do list she's created for herself and asks whether she needs to do each item on the list and whether it allows her to make her highest contribution. Ultimately, a list of ten tasks is whittled down to one--calling an ailing family member. This mindset, though seemingly obvious, was a particularly helpful shift for me. In her discussion of "culpability" Dufu discusses how women have a stronger sense of responsibility and guilt about nearly everything. I know this is true for me, and beginning to let that go is liberating. Just because someone needs to put away the laundry, doesn't mean I need to put away the laundry.

Career Moves

There are many practical, actionable solutions offered in this book--too many to share here--but I particularly appreciated Dufu's insight on moving forward her own career: Go to the gym, Go to lunch, Go to the meeting, and Go to bed. The first and the last, of course, are about maintaining physical and mental health. But the second and third were revealing to me. Dufu admits that she's never had to apply for a job due to the strength of her personal and professional network. Her guidance to "Go to lunch" is a direction to take the time to cultivate those networks. "Go to the meeting" is about increasing your public visibility: It's only through making our accomplishments visible that we can inspire others.

My Ball Drop

It's early days for me on dropping the ball. I have a long way to go, but in small ways I've started to drop the ball too. I hired a cleaning service. They didn't clean the bathroom grout as well as I would have, but cleaning grout isn't my highest contribution (and, someone finally mopped the floors, so I feel like that's a fair trade-off). Then, when the company emailed me about the future schedule and getting into the house, I forwarded the email to my husband and asked them to communicate with him in the future (he works from home). I decided that the rule that I had to label my kids' food with the appropriate meal time (morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack) was a waste of time, and I stopped doing it. At work, I decided that the committee work I hate could be done less often and less well, so I'd have more time to work on things that would bring more fulfillment, broaden my professional network, and increase my visibility. On the weekends, which I often spend doing chores morning till night, I decided that playing a silly game with my kids was more important than picking up my daughter's tiny Lite Bright pegs for the thousandth time. I also thought critically about the people in my life who have been mentors and supporters to me, and I (a little shamefully) realized I had some reciprocating to do; I set about doing it. I reached out to people in my professional network and scheduled coffee dates.

What I have found so far, as Dufu already knows, is that dropping the ball--even in these small ways--has let me contribute more according to my talents and started to push my career forward. It's helped me both ask more of my husband and be kinder toward him. It's helped me be a more conscious mom. And--last, but certainly not least--it feels really, really good.

Final Thoughts

If you do nothing else, check out Tiffany Dufu's personal Website. If the picture on the Drop the Ball page doesn't make you chuckle, we probably have nothing in common ;)

You know my friend Jen? She's a blogger too. Check out her blog Mighty-Momma. Girlfriends unite!