Chapter One: The Stanford Survey

A common assumption among psychologists is that we all research our own neuroses, and I clearly am no exception. Since the 1980s at Stanford, the primary focus of both my clinical and research work has been the stresses inherent in the lives of working women. No big surprise -- I knew those stresses intimately. It was apparent to me early in my professional training that integrating a successful career with a successful family life was going to be a significant challenge -- one at which I was seriously disadvantaged by the lack of relevant advice and counsel available to those of us contemplating this particular course in life.

A WINDOW ON MY FUTURE

My first experience with the difficulties inherent in venturing down my chosen professional/personal path came as a freshman in college. Having been felled by a bout of flu during finals, I was permitted to take a make-up on, ironically, my first psychology exam. My instructor for the course, a young assistant professor, and the rare woman on the psychology faculty at the time, invited me to her home to take the exam.

Showing up at her door, I was greeted by a woman in obvious distress; a woman whom I had previously seen only as the consummate professional in the classroom. In one arm she held a screaming baby; with the other, she blocked the exit of a tear-streaked toddler. She apologized for the chaotic scene, pushed aside a pile of unfolded laundry so that I could work on my exam, and went off to attend to her two children. Her husband (now ex-husband), also a faculty member, was nowhere in sight.

I do not remember anything about the exam, but I will never forget the image of this woman, who, despite extraordinary talent and ambition, was so valiantly and painfully struggling to cope with all the demands competing for her attention. It was one of those apocryphal moments in life, and one that was indelibly etched in my mind. Clearly, it influenced my thinking about having children for more than a decade.

It was not until several years later, during time spent in Latin America working on doctoral research, that I was able to observe a different way of integrating personal and professional priorities.

As an American woman who had experienced the pre-1970s, pre-women's movement biases in our own country that excluded women from most professional positions, I was pleasantly surprised, indeed fairly shocked, to find so many Latin American women holding professional degrees and working at highly respected posts in government and private industry. Not only were these professional women (and the authority they wielded) accepted in the workplace -- a surprising circumstance given the infamous "machismo" ethic -- but these women were also able to adroitly manage a fully involved, highly satisfying family life. How did they do that?

The answer was as simple as it was unfortunate. Their success in doing both was predicated on the existence of a servant class that freed women professionals from the usual household responsibilities. These women were able to spend all of their nonwork time with their children and their families and still maintain highly engaged professional careers.

Obviously there were problems with a servant class -- not the least of which were the devastating consequences for the migrant women who often had to abandon the care of their own children to secure work -- but the idea of a support system that allowed professional women to fully accomplish their personal and professional ideals was an intriguing notion. Clearly, only if women could secure the necessary support would they be in a position to do both things. So, short of inventing a servant class, how does one go about accomplishing this end?

Answering that question is the task of this book. Let us begin by taking a look at the women in our Stanford survey.

WHO ARE THE STANFORD WOMEN?

In the late 1990s, I was invited to address a conference for alumnae of the Stanford University Graduate School of Business. My bargain with the business school was that I would address their alumni if I could do for that group of female alums what had been done for other reunion groups -- namely, survey them on a variety of issues of importance in their lives. It was an extraordinary stroke of luck to have access to an exceptional sample of women professionals going back over 60 years. I would only hope that the business school would be equally pleased with the outcome of our bargain.

To survey the women of the Stanford Business School, a questionnaire was designed by myself and two recent women MBA graduates. We sent the questionnaire to all women graduating before 1975 and a random sample of women from the graduating classes of 1976 through 1995. In all, over 300 women responded to our survey.

DEVELOPING THE QUESTIONNAIRE

Much like the women we set out to study, from its inception our questionnaire suffered from hyperambition. Our committee of three came up with an endless stream of interesting questions that we wanted to pursue. It took incredible discipline to keep the questionnaire under 10 pages, but the concern that too lengthy an instrument would discourage participation was a relatively compelling deterrent.

One of my worst fears in creating the questionnaire was that we would learn a whole lot about very few women, that the amount of information we were asking of our sample was simply too great. What actually occurred, however, could not have been further removed from that concern.

Although we had estimated that it would take between 1.5 and 2 hours to complete the questionnaire, many of those responding went well beyond that estimated time to tell us about their experiences. In many instances, the survey evoked far more information than the simple 5-point scales had requested. Letters and other documents often accompanied the data contained in the surveys returned to us. We were literally besieged with information.

In designing the layout of the questionnaire, we thought that we had left ample room for comments. More than a few women, however, admonished us for not providing enough space to elaborate on their experiences and thoughts. Often, the questionnaires were annotated with scores of helpful comments and insights, and quite regularly, they arrived with all available space covered in writing, including the margins.

On several occasions, the questionnaires were accompanied by drawings made by children who drew along with (and sometimes on top of) their mother's work. Several women apologized for stains on the survey, reflecting the fact that they had completed the questionnaire while balancing a sandwich at their desks or preparing a meal at home. Others apologized for water marks caused by children or grandchildren splashing in a nearby pool. Illegible handwriting was often explained by the fact that the questionnaires were filled out in cars, trains, and planes. Clearly, multitasking was the operant mode.

These were busy women, and many precious minutes were dedicated to providing insightful answers to the questions posed. For that, we were extremely grateful. It was equally clear that the issues raised in the questionnaire touched a nerve for these women, and the generosity in their thoughtful replies forms the basis for much of what follows.

Even in the way they filled out their questionnaire, these women were demonstrating their remarkable capacity to get things done. As one woman, a busy executive described her life:

Generally I manage pretty well with sixteen balls in the air at work and absolute chaos at home. Imagine how dangerous I'd be if I ever got a full night's sleep!

THE SURVEY

The questionnaire we designed covered a broad range of topics. We asked the women about their experiences at business school, as well as about their personal an