The Answer is 42!

I turned 42 this year in January. As you can imagine, for somebody whose friend circle has a lot of geeks, there was no dearth of reference to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy—the book that has literally bestowed the number 42 its universal fame. One of the practical aspects of having an early January birthday is that by Thanksgiving when you look back into the year anyway to think about what you are thankful for in life, you pretty much end up doing an annual review of yourself between your last birthday and the coming one. And I can honestly say this year of my life has been eventful.

This is the year when I have surprised myself by going to not one, not two, but eight musical concerts plus a live stand-up comedy show! I also read ten-plus books that had nothing to do with law school, celebrated our son’s tenth birthday in Hawaii by zip-lining with him over waterfalls in a rainforest, wrote the most number of blogs in a year since 2010, and got back to hands-on STEM volunteering after a long gap by serving as a mentor for young schoolgirls at the Tech Museum at San Jose.

This is also the year where I have truly enjoyed law school and took advantage of everything that it has to offer to broaden my horizon. I took a 3-credit course on Gender and Law so that I have a legitimate excuse to research and write a paper on the controversial topic of “scheduling motherhood” by freezing eggs on the employers’ dime. And I took a semester-long break from my law firm job to work at the chambers of a federal Judge—my first-ever female boss—and loved every moment of it!

The other day I was listening to an interview with prominent TV producer Shonda Rhimes, whose book Year of Yes has become an instant bestseller. She described how a family get together in Thanksgiving 2013 led her to decide that “for one year, she would say YES to everything that scared her.”  Unlike Shonda, I don’t recall having a conscious moment of epiphany to do things differently in 2015. But perhaps something clicked this year. Perhaps I have discovered the magic of letting go and opening up to well-meaning gestures and actions of friends and family rather than relying too much on myself. I now recognize that when I reluctantly said yes to a law school buddy to give ‘group study’ a shot before an exam, or, listened to the advice of a colleague to try out audiobooks, or, agreed to my neighbor’s proposal of going to a concert together, quite unknowingly I had my little moments of triumph that collectively made 2015 so special. This is the year when I became available for my friends again to celebrate the happy occasions of their lives. This is the year when I found the beauty and liberation in trusting my sibling completely to take care of my dad when he suffered a heart attack unexpectedly! I am relishing the process of maturing towards a point where I do not squander the support system that I already have beyond my own home. I am thankful for that conscious recognition of the blessing that is all around me.

May be the supercomputer in Hitchhiker’s Guide did get it right after seven and a half million years of thought. May be the answer is 42. Now what was the question?

Birth

I always knew I need a life outside of home. I have tried the purest form of domesticity ten years back when I was pregnant with our first child—it felt like the perfect time to “take a break” with something exciting to look forward to at home. Instead, I found myself interviewing with a couple of law firms in Washington DC, six months pregnant, telling the interviewers that I am ready to switch my career from engineering to law. They were persuaded. I frequently joke that my son and my legal career are practically twins. I completed ten years as a patent practitioner recently, and my son is going to turn ten in less than a fortnight.

My well-meaning friends keep telling me that I am not too old yet to give birth to another child—after all my first pregnancy was really smooth and my son turned out to be an easy child all along. I never had a concrete response to why I did not go for another child. I think I finally found the response that I was looking for. I am giving birth to another child! I am giving birth to myself—in a new avatar. I am giving birth to a lawyer.

The gestation period for the 'lawyer–baby' is long and arduous. And I am noticing the unmissable parallel with pregnancy. In pregnancy, the first trimester is dominated by the fear of unknown and thinking constantly what may go wrong. The second trimester is the easiest, and the most enjoyable, because you learn to go with the flow. And the last trimester is all about patience. You just want to get done with the whole pregnancy thing! Law school is not much different. The first year was a bit torturous, the second year was a very enjoyable ride, and now third year is about to begin, but already I cannot wait to get done with law school! And then the formidable California Bar is waiting to ruin my summer of 2016. But who said giving birth to anyone or anything is easy!

This Fall I will be working for a federal Judge at the San Jose Courthouse as part of my third year law school curriculum.  When I got the interview call from the Judge's chambers last week, I dusted off the same leather portfolio bag that I carried on the first day of my first law firm job ten years back. The interview with the Judge and her senior staff was cordial. I even got to share my 'twin' joke with the Judge after the substantive part of the interview was over. She laughed and shook my hand. I got the job offer that afternoon. 

I am starting to like the beginning of my ‘third trimester.’ Looks like giving birth to myself is not a bad undertaking at all!

*Image source: http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/picture/2014/may/24/bobdylan-photography

Priceless?: Putting a Price Tag on a Mom's Work at Home

Mother’s day is less than a month away. The department store shelves are already chockablock with mom-themed greeting cards and coffee mugs. Groupon is selling discount-rate coupons for a ‘spa day for mom.’ The irony, however, is that the mothers who most deserve to be pampered—the single mothers—rarely get to feel special on mother’s day. Most of the merchandizing efforts are after all targeted towards having the non-primary-caregiving father show appreciation through his wallet to his wife, who provides the primary care for their school-age children.

In her book titled “Privilege Revealed,” my law school Professor Stephanie Wildman discussed how the 1970s wave of feminism failed to recognize women’s work in the domestic sphere, including primary caregiving to children and/or elderly, as “real work” that deserves protection from discrimination in terms of treatment, opportunities and salary, and benefits like paid leave, similar to what is available at a "workplace," i.e. a place of work outside of one's own home. Women’s work at home has historically always been undervalued. Government never attempted to quantify the value of domestic work in measurable economic terms, perhaps out of fear of criticism for encroaching on the privacy rights of individuals and families.

The website Salary.com attempted to quantify what a mom’s domestic work is worth. According to the infrographics available at http://www.salary.com/2014-mothers-day-infographics/, stay-at-home moms on an average work 96.5 hours of work per week, among which 56.6 hours are entitled to overtime rates. This calculation shows that an average stay-at-home mom should earn about $119,000 per year for her contribution.

An average working mother performs 59.4 hours of work at home on top of what she does at her job. Her work at home alone should earn her $70,160 per year. Adding what she would earn at her job outside of home, her earning will likely comfortably cross six-figures.

Of course, these calculations adopt a straightforward methodology of multiplying the rates of various types of work (e.g., cook, driver, cleaner, day care teacher, psychologist, facilities manager etc.) with hours spent on each task to come up with a final figure. The study has many flaws. Some of the roles might be a stretch. (CEO? Really?) It probably does not take into account the specialized training/experience/expertise needed to hold a similar job outside of home and get paid for it. It does not take into account student loans accumulated to acquire the required qualification for those jobs. It even does not account for the stress, politics and peer pressure that one has to endure in a competitive world to get and hold on to a job outside of home. Still, associating dollar value to the work done at home is an eye-opening experience for people who choose to be stay-at-home caregivers, as well as people who undervalue their contribution.

The Salary.com study is not the only research done on this topic of putting a price tag on a mom’s work. There are other studies done all across the globe. As somewhat expected, the results of the studies vary widely. For example, according to a 2014 study conducted by the website Insurance.com, titled, “The Mother’s Day Index: Inequality Edition,” (http://www.insure.com/life-insurance/the-mothers-day-index.html), a stay-at-home mom is worth just about $63,000 per year. [Side note: A man would earn about $68,000 for the same tasks; hence the emphasis on the term “Inequality.”] This study is probably a bit more realistic, because it does not include higher paying jobs (like a CEO) in the list of different roles that a mom assumes at home. On the other hand, a similar 2014 study done in the UK comes up with a figure closer to the Salary.com study. The article says,  "If being a mother was a paid job, it would come with a salary of £100,000 per year." (http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/mothers-day-2014-if-being-a-mother-was-a-paid-job-it-would-come-with-a-100000-salary-9214860.html)

While the safest answer to the question “how much is a mom worth?” is “priceless,” studies like the Salary.com study are essential so that at least people can make an informed decision about whether to stay at home or work outside of home, or demand a paycheck for work done at home for “free.” A non-caregiving breadwinner may argue that the the "non-working" partner is "covered" for basic sustenance---food, shelter, health insurance, safety and security of home--in exchange of their services. So no salary is necessary. However, it is worth thinking that if there was a paycheck for those services, it won't be a problem for the domestic worker to cover for their own expenses. My personal choice is to be a joint breadwinner with my husband, because both of us enjoy having a career outside of home. But at the same time, I don't see much room for a breadwinner--sole or joint--being too complacent, and having the right to undermine the value of work done at home.

[P.S. I am well aware that there are various types of family composition. The primary breadwinner may be a woman, and the primary caregiver at home may be a man. Both the primary breadwinner and primary caregiver at home may be of the same sex. I chose to portray the model of a "traditional" household---a breadwinner father and a caregiving mother--to keep the writing simple, i.e. I was not trying to be overzealous about political correctness.]

(In)visible?

My life is time-shifted. And DVR is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

For someone who is more interested in explaining the physics behind the possible 'causal link' between New England's cold weather and the scandal of the deflated football than caring about the Tom Brady-Russell Wilson showdown, it is no surprise that I recorded the Super Bowl championship game mostly for the commercials. While playing the recording back, among the flurry of 'dad' ads, I do remember getting a chuckle out of the Nationwide Insurance ad featuring Mindy Kaling. The ad showed that Mindy has been treated like an invisible person by people and businesses for a long time, until Nationwide 'noticed' her. But it never occurred to me that there might be a 'minority women' angle to the invisibility theme in the ad, until my talented friend Meghana Joshi came up with the idea of collective blogging on this concept. Thanks Meghana for launching me into an introspective journey that took me back to 2001 in the beautiful island of Ocracoke in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

A group of us, three young couples in their pre-kid days, went to the Outer Banks in the Thanksgiving weekend in 2001. We were in the mood to splurge a little. So we went to one of the fanciest restaurants in the island for dinner the evening after the Thanksgiving Day. We were seated promptly. But, though we could see some of the waiters glancing at us and talking among themselves, for the longest time, nobody came to take our orders. Other 'mainstream' patrons, who came to the restaurant after us, were waited on almost immediately. I didn't have a word at that time to describe how we felt. May be 'invisible' was the word I was looking for.

Our story does have a happy ending though. Since the less experienced waiters were unsure about how to serve the brown-skinned aliens, finally the most experienced waitress stepped in. She was the epitome of professionalism. She apologized for the long wait, chatted us up, and made our entire dining experience an absolute pleasure ultimately. Sometimes it helps to be invisible so that the lesser opportunities do not crowd the way of the 'right' opportunity.

I must say though that I had to think hard to come up with a story that is relevant in the context of the topic of this blog. Either I have a blissfully short memory so that the experiences of being treated as an invisible entity do not tend to stick with me, or, I have not really felt invisible. And a big part of it could be attributed to the confidence and sense of visibility that comes through supportive upbringing, strong role models, and higher education attained in pursuit of a serious career. Forgive me if I sound pompous, but when you are the youngest person and the only woman in a room full of academics deciding which university gets a National Science Foundation research grant on Nanotechnology, you are the exact opposite of invisible. That was twelve years back when I was a post-doctoral research associate. And it hasn't turned for the worse. Now that I am one of the oldest students among a class full of bright law students with a median age of 24, I am anything but invisible when I engage in a Socratic exchange with my Professor. It is no different when I interview a prospective summer associate at my law firm, or when I talk to the Principal of my son's school about fundraising.

To me, Mindy Kaling is an actress with great comic timing who was cleverly used to portray a message favorable to the insurance company that paid for her gig. She is not a symbol of a systemic ill of invisibility for minority women. It will probably be a stretch if I say that the ad could convey the same message if Matt Damon felt invisible until Mindy refused to kiss him. But we are not as invisible as we sometime think we are.

P.S. Addendum on February 22, 2015:
May be Mindy redeemed herself, or at least Amex capitalized on the opportunity to go one up against Nationwide--judge for yourself.
"The Unlikely Leading Lady" advertisement featured during the Oscars:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYP7ejP92uo

"You can't take the Earth for granted"

Yesterday I was talking with my Facebook friends about the World Economic Forum currently going on at Davos. I was feeling marginally 'morally superior' (in terms of carbon footprint) to some important people flying in their private jets to congregate at Davos to talk about climate change. But today I got such a unique perspective about climate change from my massage therapist, that I am completely blown away! And the most interesting thing is, he was not necessarily even thinking specifically about environmental toll of human activity when he said those profound words: "You can't take the Earth for granted!"

I have to give you some context.

Our firm arranges chair massages at work once a month for the employees. Some people just close their eyes and enjoy the massage quietly. I am not one of them. My masseur Dexter and I constantly chat during the massage sessions. So in the last five years of working together (more like Dexter would be working, and I would be worked on), we almost became friends. I know a bit about his family, his aspirations to become an actor (he did some modeling gigs already, and going to the new Steve Jobs movie shoot in San Jose on January 31), his occasional monotony with being a massage therapist and his episodic urges to try out some new career--typical of a mid-lifer. He just turned forty this January. So naturally the topic of our chat during today's session veered towards whether it feels special to reach forty. Dexter said, it wouldn't have felt special but for one of his clients giving him a truly unforgettable birthday present--the experience of flying in a small two-sitter plane above the Bay area. Apparently that client was a former marine and a thrill-seeker by nature, with obvious consequences on his body. Dexter's massages did him so much good with his aches and pains that he wanted to give Dexter something special for his fortieth birthday. This is what I call a win-win!

Dexter does not like flying per se. But his client convinced him to 'try something new and wild' and soak in the whole experience. They rented a small plane that was capable of doing 'tricks' that you see in the air shows. Dexter got to feel positive and negative 'g's with the plane nose-diving towards the ground from a height of 10,000 feet above the ground, and then going straight up! He got to know how to open a parachute if something bad happens. They even hit an air pocket while circling over the runway, waiting for the air traffic controller to give them clearance for landing.

"I felt alive!" Dexter said to me. "From up there, it was looking like Google Earth!" After all he is a massage therapist in the silicon valley! "It felt cleansing. It was like an out-of-body experience! As if I was temporarily detached from the challenges of daily life. As if I was given a chance to regroup to face the challenges once again when I come back on Earth!" Dexter is a philosopher. I know I am generalizing, but bartenders and massage therapists are frequently gifted that way.

After surviving the mini-turbulence caused by the air pocket, when the wheels of their plane finally kissed the ground, Dexter had a new appreciation for our old planet. "The Earth is too beautiful to spoil. You can't just dump your garbage on her. You can't just take her for granted."

This reminded me of something that I read in Space X's Anousheh Ansari's blog written in 2006 during her maiden space voyage. She wrote: "From the side windows in the little cabins and the docking compartment, where I sleep, you see the complete curvature of the Earth against the dark background of the universe. This view is actually my favorite because you see the “Whole” not the “Parts.” I always like to see the big picture before deciding or worrying about the pieces. I wish the leaders of different nations could do the same and have a world vision first, before a specific vision for their country."

The carbon budget for such an 'educational' trip to the outer space for the important people at Davos would probably be unjustifiable and much worse than flying the private jets to Davos. But part of me keeps hoping that we will be successful in teaching our children that we can't take the Earth for granted. Our generation is trying. Not all of the conversations are happening at high profile conventions. They are happening at our schools. At our homes. Thank you Bill Gates and Jimmy Fallon for giving us a chance to talk about 'poop water' with our kids.

Time

Time stood still.

So I had to take my favorite wristwatch to the watch repair shop in the neighborhood for battery replacement. 

Fred, of Fred’s Watch and Jewelry Repair, took all of 5 minutes to do his job. I didn’t even have enough time to settle down with a magazine—an October 2011 copy of Motorsports that I picked up from a delectable menu of several neat stacks of various magazines that Fred has stocked. Not that I am into cars. But when I visit my dentist, or wait outside a pediatrician’s office, or at the DMV, I tend to pick up something—Golf Digest, Vogue, Men’s Health—that I am the least likely to read in the normal course of life. And when the magazine is a couple of years old, I get the delight of revisiting a slice of time that has passed. It is like turning the pages of an old album.

Fred calls himself an artisan of a dying art. Millennials hardly wear watches. But I am no millennial. Visiting Fred's repair shop gave me the feeling of stepping into some place sacred. The cleanliness of the floor. The meticulous organization of the shop. The showcases full of wristwatches and ornate table-top watches. The tick-tock of the standing grandfather clock. Did I say the neatly stacked magazines? I completely got into the perfect ‘Saturday-of-a-long-weekend-in-January’ mood for idle musing.

They say January babies have a special connection (or shall we say obsession?) with the concept of time. Yesterday a friend reached a milestone birthday. Also, yesterday I learnt that an elderly family friend recently got diagnosed with a serious illness. In situations like these, everyone to a certain extent thinks about time. How much time has passed. How much time is left. But we the Capricorns take it to another level altogether. We write blogs after visiting a watch repair shop!

In a desperate bid to try to fit everything that I am experiencing into a framework of time, I start (over)thinking. Did the stalled watch symbolize the specter of a terminal illness? Did I take my watch to the repair shop immediately because accepting the finality of a terminal illness is still difficult for me after losing my mom two years back? Could it be that reviving the watch reflects that I am embracing getting older rather than artificially trying to hold time at a standstill? Or could it be that unknowingly I have made a new year’s resolution this time? One that involves not avoiding doing things just because I can get around it? Like switching to another wristwatch without bothering to fix the one that stalled? Or may be ironing my clothes once in a while rather than buying only wrinkle-proof clothes?

Most likely it is the case of an unofficial resolution. Not doing certain things, and figuring out a way to go on living my life without doing those things felt great for a period of time. But now it is losing its charm. Now getting the wristwatch fixed feels nicer, because it leads to the inspiration of writing a blog early into the new year. May be the real resolution is getting back more to writing. I have been averaging two blogs a year for the last few years. May be finally I am tired of thinking of myself as someone who ‘used to write.’ Even if I write three blogs this year, that will be one more than last year. After all, it is still mid-January, and I am one down already. I have enough time left. Don’t I?