Report of the Boston Bar Association Task Force on
Professional Challenges and Family Needs
FACING THE GRAIL: Confronting the Cost of Work-Family Imbalance

DISCUSSION VIGNETTES

IAN SMITH'S STORY

Ian sat staring at his computer screen. It was 1:15 a.m. and he had just finished reviewing the final set of loan documents for the Pyramid Project. He was doing a last scan of his e-mail when he saw his best friend's name came up. Greg had e-mailed him at 12:30 p.m. to tell him that he and Bobbie were separating. Ian was stunned.

He knew that Greg and Bobbie had been having trouble with Greg's hours and traveling, but he hadn't thought they would really separate. The girls were doing fine, and Bobbie always seemed ... well frustrated, but managing. Their families had vacationed together every other year or so since Ian and Greg had graduated from law school. Separating, what did separate even mean? Greg was on the road so much. With a start, Ian realized it must mean they were going to get a divorce and Greg hadn't wanted to say that. How could it have gotten so bad? Greg and Bobbie loved each other, he had seen it. How could things have gotten so out of hand?

Ian knew exactly how. Not the exact moment when it had happened, but he knew how.... He and Sheila had been discussing Sheila's return to work. She had always said she would go back when the kids were in school and Todd was now almost six, but Ian hadn't thought it would happen so soon. He had thought Sheila might get used to being home, get involved in the schools, do community stuff. Unfortunately, Sheila wasn't that political, or at least she wasn't moved by local political action. Ian couldn't really blame her, Sheila was really good at clinical work, gifted even, but being a neuro-psychologist was so demanding ... and so unpredictable.

Ian typed in his response to Greg. "Sorry to hear the news. Hope you're okay. You realize, don't you, what this is going to do to our vacations?" Ian deleted the last sentence and substituted, "It's only a separation, maybe things will work out." He deleted that too, and typed in, "Maybe you guys just need a vacation." He deleted that too.

Last week, Sheila had said she was going to start looking for a job. She had kept up with her colleagues and professors over the past five years. She was published, and had been reprinted several times. Once she began looking, it wouldn't be long.

The kids needed somebody at home, not all the time, but a lot more than he had been able to be home. As an equity partner, Ian had thought he would have more flexibility. But now he had to make a name for himself, build his own practice. In many ways the pressures were stronger than ever. He knew that he had told Sheila it would be different. He knew that he had promised her there would be fewer deals in which he had to be there all the time. He had thought that senior associates could do it ... he really had. But the clients didn't want senior associates, they wanted him. And he felt both pleased and a little unnerved by that. Pleased, because it seemed to Ian that the key to having a life was to develop a few clients who had lots of business, so you didn't need to spend your whole life hunting up new prospects. This fit in with his plan of being a big producer without having to market all the time -- that's not why he became a lawyer.

But, now he felt chained. He had to respond whenever they called. Take the Loman deal-- the lead venture capitalist was divorced, the CEO didn't have kids; the general counsel just wanted you there all the time. Half of it was the thrill of the chase. Ian felt it too. The adrenalin rush when a deal was cut -- that was even better than the closing. Then, when things would start to unravel, you'd put it back with an incredibly clever move, without letting the other side know what was happening; you'd have them hooked again. Ian sighed. In between these moments of the deal were a thousand other grueling hours, when you'd just have to thrash out the documents, over and over. You could delegate, but, in the end, you couldn't really ignore the details. You needed to know where you could push, where the others side's sights were focussed, when to press and where to give without hurting yourself.

At lunch yesterday, Ian had mentioned to two of the guys in his department that his wife was thinking of going back to work. One of them had said that his wife could call Sheila with the name of the agency they had used to find a nanny. Ian thought his daughter would probably adjust fine to a nanny, but he wasn't so sure about his son. Todd was a bright kid, but he had a tendency to act up if he thought he could get away with something or to go off into his own little world.

"Well then, can't you convince Sheila to stay home until Todd is out of elementary school?" asked his partner, Barry. "Stephanie is happy doing that, heck I'd like to spend my days at home."

"No you wouldn't," said Jim, the other partner at the table.
"Well, okay, maybe not as a regular thing. But Stephanie likes it. And she does a wonderful job of keeping up the house and keeping up with the parents and volunteering at school."

"Sheila wants to do neuro-psychology," said Ian. "She's good at it."

"Well, sure. But can't she wait a few more years? Till the kids are more self-sufficient?"
"You can't exactly tell the firm you're going to go part-time," said Barry. Jim and Barry laughed. "It's not your fault that your career opportunities happen right when the kids are young. Besides, your family will be happy later, when tuition bills start rolling in. My folks couldn't send us to college. It took me fourteen years to pay off my damn loans."
Jim laughed. "And the very next month you bought a place on the Cape."

"Actually, I bought the Chatham place the year before," said Barry. " It gives Marge and the kids some place to go in the summer. And it's a hell of a lot more convenient than a hotel room in some god-forsaken place. I can leave late on Friday night and be there by two or three in the morning and catch some rays the next day and still be near a fax machine and a decent modem line. It sure beats canceling vacations or ending up someplace where you can't even get a good cell phone connection. Hey, you should come down some weekend, we could catch a couple of ball games."

Ian had excused himself and had taken his dessert back up to the office. Back in his office, he dug into his work.

On the way home, Ian's thoughts again drifted to Greg's e-mail and to the upcoming discussion with Sheila. He glanced at the clock in his car. It was late enough now that he could avoid having to deal with the issue tonight. Maybe this weekend, but he still had to finish the Loman deal. This weekend wasn't going to be a very good time.

A year ago, Sheila had suggested that Ian take an apartment in town during the week so he could work as much as he wanted during the week, and could be home more on the weekends. Ian had resisted. He had asked Sheila if she was trying to get rid of him. Sheila had said no, and he had believed her. He had considered the idea of an apartment. Before they had the kids, he had spent a year clerking in New York. He had enjoyed flying up or having Sheila fly down on the weekends. They had gone out a lot and partied and just hung out. Ian always knew there would be plenty of time for work during the week. But it was different now with kids. Ian was afraid that if he took an apartment it would get too easy for them.... that it wouldn't be like he really lived with them. Now, thinking of Greg, he was glad he had rejected the apartment idea. But still, he usually came home after the kids were in bed, except on special occasions and weekends. He also tried to get home early on Fridays whenever he could. They usually all went out for pizza. He had loved Friday nights as a kid.

Now his Friday nights were probably going to disappear. No doubt he and Shelia would be shifting off each other on Friday nights, when she went back to work. "When," he told himself, was progress. He wasn't saying "if she went back to work." He was saying "when."

Ian felt exhausted. It was late, but it was more than that. Maybe Sheila would get involved with some school activity. Perhaps the school could use her skills. Or she could work part-time and see how it went. This all sounded logical to him, but he could hear Sheila's voice in his head, turning everything around, ... asking him if he would work part-time and "see how it went." Damn her, thought Ian. But that was why he had married her. She challenged him. She was so often right. And even when she wasn't, she usually had a point he hadn't considered. Ian didn't want to deal with this, but he knew they would sooner or later ... or .... not, and he couldn't imagine being without her. In some weird way, he was doing it for her. Maybe she didn't want it. Then what?

Ian set this thought aside and reached for the radio. He was too tired to think any more that day. It was already tomorrow.

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