Sullivan, Schwartz, and Slaughter

Three stories, all in the first section of today's New York Times, seem oddly connected.

First, the headline, “Elite Women Put New Spin on Old Debate,” which discusses Anne Marie Slaughter’s recent Atlantic article about why she stepped down from the State Department caught my eye. She talks about the choices to be made in work-family balance, the advantages of an academic life, and the role of parents in the lives of teens.


Second, I read the obituary for Anna Schwartz, an economist who worked with Milton Friedman but got only a fraction of his recognition. At a time when women were not encouraged to pursue intellectual pursuits, especially not economics, she was a force. She was not a demographer, but demography as a discipline had some very strong women leaders early on and I’ve benefited from their successes.

Third, there is the ongoing story of the ouster (and possible reinstatement) of Teresa Sullivan as president of University of Virginia. I have a lot of respect for her and disdain for the creeping corporatization of academia. I thought her statement a few days ago outlining her accomplishments and leadership style was superb.

I’ve usually considered myself a “small f” feminist, believing that the right path was to do my best at work and home and carry on; I would be judged by my actions, not my gender. I know that is not always the case, and at times I am surprised when I run up against the “boys” at work. Still, for the most part, an academic life has afforded me the balance and recognition I’ve sought. Three stories about women, leadership, family, balance, academic life, intellectual pursuits…it’s like the basis for a novel, how the lives of these three women in different places and times intersect, connect, and illuminate my own experiences.

Teresa Sullivan

I don't know Teresa Sullivan, but she has been one of my role models.  As a fellow demographer and sociologist our paths often crossed early in my career at meetings of the Population Association of America and the American Sociological Association.  I know about her research on labor markets and more recent work on bankruptcy (with Elizabeth Warren). About the time of my first academic job she was chair of the sociology department at Texas and then associate dean of the graduate school.  About the time I became a department chair, in 2003, she was an executive VP at Texas.  Throughout those times, she was still known as a scholar, someone conducting valuable research.  But, I also always felt she was someone who was respected for her leadership and integrity. It was no surprise when she left Texas to become provost at Michigan and left Michigan to become president at Virginia.  As I struggled with decisions about an administrative career, she was someone I looked up to.

Now, she has been asked to leave Virginia after only 2 years.  I really appreciate the way she has handled this so far. No outcry, no fanfare, but yesterday a calm and careful statement of what she has accomplished, her views on leadership, and her thoughts on academia.  She calls herself an incrementalist and says, "Being an incrementalist does not mean that I lack vision."  As she points out, "Corporate-style, top-down leadership does not work in a great university."  (Does it work even in a great corporation??)  She astutely notes that it is not money that drives and motivates most faculty, something I have observed many times with my colleagues.  She apparently demurred from across the board deep financial cuts, opting instead for trimming non-academic budgets and thinking strategically about areas of growth.

She ends with a statement about trust. "Trust does not mean an absence of disagreement. But it requires that disagreements be frankly discussed....One of the greater duties of the president is to listen carefully to the needs and aspirations of the community."

I have no doubt that Teresa will fare well wherever she lands. She is a great leader.

Restricted Life Space

Learned a new term today--restricted life space.  I am working on some research related to falls among the elderly.  Specifically, we are interested in the extent to which the fear of falling isolates older adults.  I've been reading along, talking to other researchers, and just today came across this whole literature on "restricted life space."  It is a term in nursing literature, and to some extent other medical literature.  Seems restricted life space may be related to all kinds of things, including Alzheimer's Disease.

While it is a synonym for "mobility limitations" in these senses, it seems like a nice concept for all kinds of other things. In what ways do we restrict our life space?  How do we limit ourselves?  I like the idea of having a "life space,"  an expansive, wide-open, stretch of possibilities.

Life course perspective on stuff

I feel like I'm drowning in stuff--broken toys, flower vases, school notebooks, wires and cables, mismatched dishes.  Where does it all come from?  When I moved to college as a freshman I had a few suitcases and a few boxes.  Everything my sister and I were taking fit in the family van.  When I left college I had a bit more, but could certainly move everything myself.  Over time things accumulate. Some of it is useful--furniture, bookcases, sheets and towels.  A lot of it isn't.  As our houses got bigger, we got more stuff. As our kids got older, we got more stuff.  I'm ready to shed it. I'd like to rent a dumpster and throw it all away. 

When we spent 6 months in Germany we knew we would be living in a furnished apartment, and took clothes and essentials.  It was like heaven to live in a small 2 bedroom apartment. We had everything we needed, but not much more. True, even there we ended up needing to ship back boxes of things we couldn't carry, but everything was manageable.

My older son recently moved into his first solo apartment. I was envious. There was a closet sized kitchen, a completely adequate bath, and a reasonable living room and bedroom.  I dream of how easy it would be to keep something that size clean and neat. How easy it would be to find anything you need. How liberating it would be to have so little room for stuff.

A few years ago my in-laws sold their home and moved into an apartment. Sorting through decades of stuff was a long and excruciating task.  I hope to never be in that situation. I want to shed myself of those things early in life, stop bringing new junk into the house and throwing out what is here.

It occurred to me as a life course sociologist, that our belongings have a trajectory. We accumulate then discard.  The economists like this inverted U shaped curve of life cycle accumulation.  I'd like to be on the downside of the U...dis-accumulating.

When I was young, my mother gave me and my older sisters a Christmas present of treasure boxes. Small, metal utility boxes about the size of a shoebox.  They even had keys.  Their purpose was for us to be able to store our treasures, especially things we didn't want our younger siblings to mess with.  Later, she gave us cedar chests, her version of a hope chest.  I've thought about those boxes lately, I don't have the treasure box anymore, but I do have the cedar chest.  It was my first piece of "nice" furniture, something to take with me when I left home.  It is one piece of stuff I want to keep, one connection and memory I don't want to give up, one treasure I want to hold onto.

Some days I wish I was back in the time when all my treasures would fit into a shoebox and a cedar chest would hold hope. 
                                                       

Academic Summers

I'm often asked, "Why do you go to work in the summer?"  Here is my current "to do" list:

Write graduate program review
Read and write a critique of an article submitted for publication (peer review)
Start work on a new project on fear of falling and social isolation funded by a small grant
Work on a paper with two colleagues on military service and obesity
Work with colleagues at another university on a paper about osteoporosis, falls, and obesity
Prepare syllabus, lectures, and assignments for a course I haven't taught for two years.
Prepare syllabus, lectures, and assignments for a course I have taught every year for 3 years.
Create a website for a society that I am secretary/treasurer.
Coordinate plans for a group dinner (100 people) at a conference in August.