Ed. note: This is the latest installment in a series of posts on motherhood in the legal profession, in partnership with our friends at MothersEsquire. Welcome Susan Dunlap to our pages.
The more time I spend with the hundreds of Biglaw women lawyers I work with as a leadership coach, the more I worry about the regressive effect this pandemic is having on gender equality in Biglaw. One of my clients said it best when she lamented that “Equality has been erased!” She was referring specifically to the fact that many of her male counterparts have the luxury of working single-mindedly all day, while she and many other women lawyers are working full time and also managing the mental, physical, and emotional labors of childcare, homeschooling, meal planning and preparation, cleaning, and a never-ending list of other essential household responsibilities. This is, of course, an existing struggle that COVID-19 only magnified.
In an effort to give you a better, more concrete glimpse into the world of a woman in Biglaw who has children, I’ve described my client’s typical day in detail below.
As you read this description, I would ask you to consider the following questions:
- What conversations does reading this snapshot provoke?
- What can we do to make sure this is not a regressive period for women?
- What are we not talking about that we need to be talking about?
A COVID-19 Day In The Life Of A Woman Lawyer In Biglaw
6 a.m. – 9 a.m.
I wake up at 6 a.m. with the kids. I immediately check my email to see what I missed overnight and what I have ahead of me. (The stress hits immediately, as I wonder how I am going to get everything done.) I can’t think about it too much now, because I have to get kids dressed and ready for breakfast. The kids’ sleep schedule is off due to the sheltering-at-home, so even getting dressed is a battle.
I feed them while spending time looking at my phone. Over breakfast, my husband and I argue about who will have the first shift — we are both feeling so much pressure to produce for work. We agree that I will take care of the kids until 9 a.m., and then my husband will take them until noon. I play with my toddler while getting my kindergartener set up for Zoom learning. We have to print materials for Zoom school, and I find our printer isn’t working -– more stress!! I don’t want my child to feel unprepared for school. I am sure I’ll be judged as the “working mom.” While watching the kids, I am constantly monitoring work email and becoming anxious about not being able to start work earlier.
9 a.m. – noon
The minute my husband takes over at 9 a.m., I run upstairs with my laptop into a room and lock the door. The kids still think I’m actually leaving the house to work, which is the only way they leave me alone. I have about two to two and a half hours to work but I am constantly interrupted — today my husband needs to jump on an emergency call for 20 minutes, and I have a practice group check-in call.
While I am trying to work, my kids are yelling and screaming downstairs –- it is so hard to concentrate! My husband is doing the best he can, but when the kids fall down and hurt themselves, they still cry for me. I try to ignore it, and I feel like a terrible mother. I am worried my lack of concentration is affecting my work, but I can’t worry about that now — I just have to get it done. But I get distracted thinking that I might get fired if anyone knew how challenging this is for me. The firm has been really good about giving us feedback about its financial performance, but we definitely see in media reports the financial impact this pandemic is having on law firms generally. We all worry about what a slowdown means for us individually and for the firm in general.
Noon – 3 p.m.
After a couple of hours of distracted work (I haven’t had an undistracted block of two hours since WFH began), I go downstairs to prepare the kids’ lunches. They are both very needy right now, so they are crawling over me while I prepare the meal and constantly check emails. I feel guilt and shame for not being able to work exclusively — I am hoping no one notices. I also feel guilty because my stress is making me very impatient with the kids.
After lunch, I put them down for naps. When the kids are asleep, I sneak back upstairs and try to work for another few hours. But the kids are terrible nappers, so they usually wake up after an hour, and my husband has to take them again until 3 p.m. I feel so badly that he has to take them AGAIN — I know he understands, but he still finds it annoying. More guilt and stress. While I am working we get an email from the firm saying it is more important than ever to do non-billable work (WHAT?!).
3 p.m. – 6 p.m.
I go back downstairs and switch places with my husband so he can work. The kids really need to expend energy, as they have been cooped up all day. We like to play in our backyard when we can, but the weather’s been terrible. Everyone is getting on each other’s nerves, so there is constant squabbling between the kids. Even the TV isn’t working as a babysitting option, because my little one only has an attention span of five to ten minutes.
During this time, I am constantly checking my phone to see what I’m missing at work. The anxiety is crushing. At 5 p.m., I bring the kids to the kitchen and start making dinner, usually with at least one child attached to a leg or arm. Yesterday, someone decided to schedule a conference call at 5:30 p.m., so I cooked dinner as fast as possible, and listened to the conference call on mute while at the table as the kids ate (terrible headache).
6 p.m. – 10:30 p.m.
After dinner, I play with the kids for another hour or so before I give them a bath and put my toddler to bed. After my toddler’s down, I get about 40 minutes of work in before I put my son down. While working, I get a call from my sister telling me how hard it has been since her husband was furloughed. This makes me so grateful to have my job, but also terrified what it may mean if I lose it!
After the call, I go back to work, wondering how I am going to get everything done tonight, when I am SO tired. After my son is down, I work for another one and a half to two hours until I feel like I’m going to fall asleep at my desk. When I log off around 10:30 p.m., I’ve worked about six and a half hours but one hour was non-billable. I am completely exhausted and feel like I am failing at everything! I am worried people may see my hours as low and assume I have more time, so they will reach out to me with more nonbillable work. It’s hard to say no when I am billing way fewer hours than usual, but people don’t understand that right now, giving me more non-billable work means less time to put toward billable work (and toward sleep and taking care of the kids).
I love being a lawyer. I love my clients. I actually love my job. My identity is very much wrapped up in being a top performer, but now I feel like a complete failure as a lawyer and as a mother. I don’t think I can continue doing this, but I’m the primary bread-winner so I don’t have that many options. I think I am the only one of my friends who is still working. I go through the internal struggle every day: trying to balance putting in enough hours at work, caring for my kids, and getting some sleep. I want to have enough billable hours to not be put on the chopping block if that time comes, but I also need sleep to do my job and to parent effectively.
What Will Our Post-COVID-19 Future Look Like?
A basic premise of all leadership development is that transformation and change cannot happen until we can really see the problem. Awareness leads to choice, and choice leads to change. The pandemic and sheltering-in-place have greatly exaggerated the ever-present problem of gender inequity in law firms, making it impossible for anyone not to see it. My hope is that one of the silver linings of the pandemic will be a dramatically increased willingness to acknowledge the problem, then have bold conversations that bring about bold actions toward true gender equity, thereby creating a system that actually works for all lawyers.
Susan Dunlap is a leadership coach and the founder of the Women’s Leadership Forum (WLF), a national leadership development program for women in Biglaw.