She gets on the same bus as her younger brother and sister. She wears a uniform that looks a bit like Harry Potter fashion — yes, there is a tie. But there is no “homecoming.” She attends the British International School and I don’t think cricket renders itself to floats, homecoming queens or dances. But, I could be wrong.
Shopping for a 15-year-old girl is never easy. It could be a bit more interesting here, however, because you can take her to the fabric market and have a coat, dress or a great pair of jeans made to order. Maybe go to the “underground market” and let her buy a pair of ‘Chanel’ sunglasses and an ‘Hermes’ bag. Or, we could go to the pearl market and get a bracelet to match her necklace. But, we aren’t doing any of those things.
Fact is, we have no gift for her today. Instead, we’re letting her skip school and we are spending the day with her. Fortunately, she still wants to spend time with us (or, at least, we think she still does). I have no idea what we’ll do together. It might be a walk in Century Park and taking pictures with Dad. It might be hanging out at her favorite coffee shop (she doesn’t drink coffee, she hangs out). It might be going to see the “movie lady” and then watching mov ies all day. Or, it could be nothing more than wearing our PJs all day. I really have no idea. The point is we’ll be doing whatever it is together.
Like any parent, I want the world and more for my children. But for me, the “more” is actually less. Yes, I want them to see the world but I want them to enjoy it; not conquer it. There is a big difference.
Jane is a third of my age today. She’s lived a third of the life that I have lived but in some ways she has lived so much more, so much better and so much richer a life than me. In the year since she turned 14, Jane has been to Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia, Russia, Germany, France, Austria, England and, of course, China. In a few months, she will go to Hawaii. She’ll follow that this summer with a few weeks in Italy. And, if we can swing it, there will be a trip to Cambodia and the Philippines in there too. Not bad for 15.
Jane performed in leading roles in two wonderful stage productions this past year, learned to speak just enough Chinese to order pizza over the phone and made friends from around the world. She also learned the importance of being resilient. She is a teenage girl, which is never easy, but when your Mother drags you out of your comfort zone, away from your friends and family and forces you to move to China, well, it’s a bit harder. There is good stuff too but when you’re 15, the good stuff doesn’t stick like the bad stuff. It’s just the way it is.
This past year has been hard on her as it is on most teenage expats. (Frankly, it’s hard on everyone.) It has been hard to watch her struggle and harder still to find the means to help her. At this age, you can’t kiss the boo boo and make it all better. Some things can’t be “fixed” but they can be “shared.” Jane knew this long before I did.
Moving to China is huge. You just can’t overstate it. Yes, the culture is different. The language is a barrier. The food can be challenging. All of this is true, but it is the little things that push you over the edge — things like ice. There is no ice maker in our fridge and no ice trays or even room for ice trays in our freezer. If you want ice, you have it delivered. Otherwise, you go without ice. And, if your favorite thing to drink is ice cold water — well you get the picture.
Silly? Maybe it is silly in a world where ice drops out of the door whenever you want it, but not in a world where you are dealing with a strange and mystifying world culture, a different and unique school culture and a language you can’t decipher whether it is written or spoken. And, just to rub salt in the wound, you can’t even call your best friend when you need her because she is sleeping when you are awake. This is when the silly becomes the earth shattering and perspective is hard to find, at least at 15.
So, it might seem like we should have a wrapped box with a really terrific present inside for her. But, we don’t. Time. We are giving her time. And, not just today. In order to give her (and her brother and sister) “more,” I will be doing less. Because, as it turns out, less is more. And sharing the experience is more important than fixing it.
Perspective.
I still wonder if coming to China was the right choice for our little clan of five. I don’t exactly regret the decision. It’s more like a debt. I won’t know for years if the gamble paid off or if I still owe. As Jane turns a year older, I feel a bit deeper in debt — to her, to all of them and even to myself. Time is both a cruel master and the purest and most generous of all gifts.
Passion
October 2012
Shanghai
Prior to my leave of absence, my human resources professional asked me what is it that I like to do; what makes me want to get up in the morning and come to the office? Well, at this moment, it is the fear of not being able to put food on the table that makes me get out of bed and show up at my assigned work station. But, when asked: What do I like to do? What do I want to be when I grow up? What am I passionate about? Well, the answer (sadly) is that I have no idea.
As it turns out, I am not alone (I asked around). Interestingly, though, I found that more women than men gave me the “I don’t know” answer and most of those women didn’t feel very fulfilled in what they were doing. I wasn’t talking to the cleaning staff, here. I was asking really high-powered women who — like me — have children and are married and are carrying all or most of the bread-winning load. They get up and go to work because that is what they have been doing every day for the last 10, 15 or 20 years. I imagine some of the men might secretly be feeling the same thing.
Looking a little closer to home, though, there is plenty of passion and a few people who know exactly what they like to do. Jack loves wine. He writes a great blog, attends wine tastings, hosts wine tastings and — even in Shanghai — has surrounded himself with oenophiles.
If that wasn’t enough, and apparently it’s not, he has taken up photography too. This has incidental benefits to the rest of us, though at times we find it annoying when he is standing in the same spot on the beach seemingly forever photographing a snail coming out of its shell — yes, imagine how quickly that happens! Of course, we love to complain about it but we love the results even more. He takes a photography class and managed to buy a camera that must have a college degree — it was that expensive.
And, now, he is even taking intensive Chinese language courses. Seriously, did you really think my husband was a Renaissance Man? Well, don’t let the beer, football and t-shirt wardrobe fool you. He is.
Jane has always had passion for the theatre. We first took her to New York for her 8th birthday and we saw three Broadway shows that year. In the years following, it grew to five shows in three days! She has gone back almost every year and, because we were in Shanghai for her last birthday, we hit London on the way home for the summer. She has taken drama seriously now for a couple of years. She writes, helps direct, acts and even sings. She’s currently playing the role of the sarcastic principal in Grease. How fitting.
Henry is a typical boy who loves all sports and plays many. He also has a passion for the theatre and is quite a good writer. He was in a play last year and will be in the primary school’s play this spring - stay tuned! And, Bella swims. My little Olympian in the making.
Me? I work. I like wine. I like photography. I like the theatre. I like sports, especially football and baseball. I like these things, but am I passionate about them the way my family is passionate about them? Henry and Jack are up at 4 a.m. watching the Tigers and I sleep until at least 5 and then fall asleep again.
I love tasting wine with Jack but when I travel on business, I call him when they hand me the wine list. I actually called him from the table in Sao Paulo, Brazil once. Why? I have no idea what kind of wine I like, but Jack does. Love that about him!
I do love to cook, or I did. I can’t remember the last time I really cooked and, let’s face it, the oven we have in China is not exactly reliable. Cooking here is more of a frustration than a passion. I loved
to travel before I started trekking the globe for business and it became a pain in the ass. I like to read but I’m too tired most nights to read anything, even a magazine. I have many excuses and having a passion means no excuses or it isn’t a passion.
I’ve been thinking about this question — What makes you want to get out of bed and come to work in the morning? It is a good question. That is what I need to be doing — something that makes me want to get out of bed. Now, if I could just figure out what that is . . .
(Fast Lane . . . Slow Lane)
October 2012
Shanghai
You hit middle age and you look back and wonder about the road you didn’t take, the opportunities you squandered, the time you spent unwisely. I suppose some may look back and find the road, the opportunities and the time spent worthy. I look back and wonder, question and find a bit of regret. This is not to say that I am unhappy with my life. I am, actually, quite lucky.
I am married to a man who loves me despite my many attempts to make that difficult over the years. He has been my touchstone for more than 25 years. Through the wonder of science, we have three amazing children. They are miracles of science and determination but they are also wondrous, brilliant and bewildering creatures of some other worldly portal that I cannot fathom. I have enjoyed a successful career (for a woman) though it has come at a cost. And, this is where the questions of middle age arise. So while we have been in the Middle Kingdom, I have been dealing with middle age . . .
Most mornings (I can’t say every morning) I go to the gym and run, bike, swim or lift. Several years ago, I did a few triathlons and I’ve rediscovered my love of the pool. The running not so much — the half marathon was enough to make clear to me that running was not something I enjoyed. I endure it but don’t enjoy it. I like the pool. I like to be surrounded by water, the silence of the swim, the focus required to keep from drowning and the smooth and rhythmic nature of it appeals to me. I’ve always been a water girl. Swim or ski — swim every time.
Usually, I enter the pool while it is still dark outside. The pool is 5 floors up and surrounded by windows. The darkness melts away slowly as I swim. Both the literal darkness and the figurative darkness. My head clears in those 50 minutes. Focus on the stroke, don’t let the mind wander. Focus.
On this particular morning, however, I was not rushing around. I was not racing to get into one of the lanes, I was actually taking my time. And, because of that I noticed something. Was it new or had it been there for weeks already? I had no idea. But it stopped me in my tracks.
It is funny how things can suddenly pop up and completely resonate with you, with where you are at that moment in life and the decisions you are trying to make, even if you don’t really know it at the time. The signs above the two swim lanes sum it up: Fast Lane or Slow Lane.
I know the Fast Lane. I’ve lived there for years. Early morning workouts, followed by 12- or 14-hour days, rushing home in the hopes of not missing bedtime, and after tucking the last one in for the night getting on the phone for conference calls and finally falling into bed long past a reasonable bedtime.
The Slow Lane is less familiar to me. Structure and purpose. A sense of purpose, a raison d’être. Can the slow lane provide that or is the slow lane code for “also ran” or “quitter” or “not good enough?” I never picked the “flexible schedule” option because I feared that it would be seen as a lack of commitment. Instead, I purchased extra vacation - at a premium price - but a far more discrete means of trying to “have it all.”
Fact is, I am frustrated. The Fast Lane has been and continues to be frustrating and the faster you go the faster they expect you to go until you just can’t (or maybe won’t) go anymore. And that is where I find myself today. I can’t keep going or, more accurately, I don’t want to.
When, I wonder, will I have given enough to the behemoth? When will my commitment be evident? When will all of the hard work and late nights be rewarded? When I am dead at my desk?
No. They’ll just call the Ayi to take the body away and replace it with a new one.
If the Fast Lane is so frustrating, then why am I in it? Is it ambition? Is ambition bad? Is it for money? Is money bad? Is it for recognition? Is recognition bad? Why do I expect a different result? I’ve been banging away like this for years and getting exactly nowhere. Well, I got to China so not exactly nowhere but you know what I mean. From my chair, the ceiling is still made of glass and the glass is bullet proof.
And, are there only two choices? Fast and slow? The road to “company officer” or the road to “also ran.” Are there no choices in between? What about valued contributor, respected expert and colleague? Did the road really fork in only two directions?
While I don’t know the answer to the question, my suspicions are that you are binned in one of two boxes; and, once binned, you are boxed.
On that particular morning, I picked the Slow Lane . . . but since that morning, I have opted to swim in neither lane. You see, there are only two roped swim lanes at the pool but you can swim outside the lap lanes where there is no label. I don’t like the choices or maybe I can’t decide. I don’t know, really. But, each morning when I approach the pool, I smile and take a moment to consider where I will swim.
What Comes Next?
October 2012
Shanghai
The first week of October is a national holiday in China. Most expats leave the country during this holiday week and travel. We stayed home.
The week before, I was in Beijing for business and Jack and the kids met me there. We saw some sights in Beijing and took a hike on The Great Wall.
October really is the best time of year in China. The weather is warm, sunny and slightly breezy. The wind helps keep the air moving and there is more blue sky than at almost any other time in the year. So, why not enjoy it?
And, we did.
We sat on our rooftop deck and watched fireworks from Century Park. We walked the Bund, had dinner at Mr. & Mrs. Bund one evening and watched fireworks over the river. We played pick-up sticks at Bistro Burger in Puxi and watched people pass by on the street. We went to a friend’s house for dinner and watched fireworks from Century Park (again). We watched movies late into the evening, slept late, walked the dog and did nothing at all.
Just before this holiday, I began a two-week leave of absence from work. The pace in China is grueling and the toll on me and the family had reached a critical point. I return to the office soon.
What comes next, I wonder?
I finally have a parent identification card for our children’s school. I know, it’s almost November of Year 2. Still, I went and got one while I was on leave. I used it too.
I went to Bella’s swim practice, picked Jane up from play rehearsal, took cupcakes to school for a teacher’s birthday at Bella’s request, watched football practice and even met a teacher.
The “ah ha” moment, however, was when I received a text message from one of our children that made my heart break. I never would have gotten that text if I hadn’t taken time off because (1) our child would not have wanted to “bother me” at work, (2) if our child had texted me, chances are that I would have seen it too late to be useful, and (3) if I had seen it, I am not sure that I would have left the office. More likely, I would have called Jack. This time, I went and sat on the cold concrete step outside the school auditorium for three hours just so our child knew I was there — no need to talk — I was just “available.” Truly and completely available.
Brenda Barnes was #10 on Fortune’s 50 Most Powerful Women in Business list in 2009. In May 2010, she suffered a stroke, fell off the list and resigned from her job as CEO of Sara Lee. Not long after, her daughter, who had recently graduated from the University of Notre Dame with a good job, decided to leave her job and help her mother recover from her stroke. I read this story in this year’s edition of Fortune’s 50 Most Powerful Women in Business. What struck me was that in 1997, Brenda Barnes quit her job as CEO of Pepsi-Cola North Am
erica to spend more time with her children because they needed her. Now, she needed them and they were doing the very same thing for her.
When I read this article I was on the plane from Beijing, and I wondered if my children would do that for me? I wondered if I had given them any reason to. That was the moment I stopped feeling guilty for asking for the two-week leave of absence, and committed myself to really thinking about what is important to me. I still have no answer to the question of what makes me want to get up each morning and go to work? I think I may have burnt out. Or, at least, stalled.
I am worried that I won’t be able to turn it off when I go back to the office. Will I fail to honor the very boundaries that I am complaining others will not honor? We teach people how to treat us. I have rarely said “no.” When asked to take on an assignment, handle a meeting, prepare a presentation, speak at an event or fly around the world for a 12-hour meeting, I have done it. Until just a few weeks ago when, for the first time, I refused to get on a plane — I said “no.” We teach people how to treat us. I want to be treated differently, and I want to treat my family better.
I did this with the help of a therapist. I am not embarrassed to say it — my life is complicated and at times overwhelming. Do you really think it is easy to be a “senior” woman in a Fortune 10 Company? Do you think it is easy to be part of a team trying to build a business in Asia Pacific and Africa? Do you think moving your family to China for your career doesn’t come with some complications? Do you believe that I have no demons haunting me at night? No, you don’t because you have your own complications, your own challenges and your own secrets and demons. We all do.
Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me Page 11