The supportive spouse

I mentioned in a recent post that we were in Ithaca in mid-May celebrating the careers of two extraordinary scientists – Marc’s dad Jean-Yves and his PhD advisor, Wilfried Brutsaert. They’re “retiring” – I put that in quotes because they both still go to work every day. It’s just an administrative formality and, in Yves’ case, a move up one flight of stairs to a new office.

Many of their former students and postdocs came, there was much celebrating, eating and socializing, interspersed with 15-minute talks that were full of equations and hard to follow, all of which pleased the two men enormously.

Somewhere in March or April I had suggested to the conference organizer, a friend of ours, that they should pay tribute to the supportive but not-likely-to-be-recognized wives of the two men.

Brilliant move, Mary. Next thing I knew I had a 15-minute slot of my own on the program. Of course I panicked. Fifteen minutes? What am I going to do with fifteen minutes? I don’t give speeches.

On the plane ride to the US, I jotted down some thoughts. I told Marc itmight be better just for me to stand up and say a few words at a dinner or something. But then I thought about it some more, and decided I couldn’t wimp out like that. This was important. These guys were getting a lot of attention, and it was definitely merited, but there is another story here, one that almost always goes unmentioned in academic circles. The story of the supportive spouse.

In Ithaca, I worked on it some more. This wasn’t going to be easy. Number one, the whole idea of the supportive spouse is now becoming politically incorrect. We’re in the era of partnership, of paternity leave, of women following their own dreams, not sacrificing themselves to raise families and support the dreams of their husbands. You want a dinner party? Put on an apron or hire a caterer, dude. Things have changed a lot in a generation. How was I going to pay tribute to their role without trivializing it?

Number two, I knew these women personally, particularly my mother-in-law. I know what they’ve been through. I have spent my fair share of time as a supportive spouse. I didn’t want to diss the guys, but, frankly, there were things that needed to be said. Truths that needed to be told.

Number three, all the other speeches were powerpoint presentations with equations in them. I was going to be addressing a predominantly male, geeky audience. I would clearly have to come up with a technical, logical approach in order to get their attention – in short, my talk needed an equation. I refused to go down the route of a powerpoint presentation – I loathe the things – but I did make one slide, with an equation on it (it was even nonlinear.)

On the whole I think it worked – as I looked out over the crowd, their eyes were fixed on first the equation and then me, and not closed.

At the end, when I asked the women to come down and accept a token of our gratitude, everyone stood up and clapped. Not for my speech – it was halting and a bit awkward, and not really all that good in retrospect – but in real recognition of their contribution that I had tried to make manifest. They got it.

I was happy to see that the two men being feted didn’t begrudge the attention focused on their partners; quite the contrary. My equation was about academic success; and after all I pointed out that this was something they had definitely acheived. I think they both know, deep down, that they didn’t do it all by themselves and were relieved that someone else got up and said so.

Here’s the speech. Nowhere close to 15 minutes. I know from painful personal experience that shorter is better in these venues. Just imagine a stumble in my voice every now and then, and you’ll have the idea:

This symposium has been a fabulous tribute to the careers of two extraordinary men. Yes, they’re extraordinary, and in so many ways, not just scientifically. These guys are unique specimens.

When Marc told me about this event, I was very pleased. What a great idea to honor these two, who are already friends, together! For Marc in particular it’s a double-whammy; his father and his scientific father. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there was something missing. I came down to breakfast one day and said, “You know, Marc, in all this honoring, somebody needs to acknowledge the contribution of Eileen and Toyoko. You and I both know that without them, these guys would be little more than blobs of quivering protoplasm.”

He agreed with me, of course. He himself is acutely aware of his own protoplasmic potential, because I regularly remind him of it.

University teaching and research are labors of love. God knows you’re not in it for the money.

Just for the record, I’ve often thought in my own life that the university is a bit like a jealous mistress; she’s always asking for more. More time, more money, more attention. She insists that her needs are more important than anything else in your life, including your family. She leads you on sometimes, just to slap you in the face when you’re least expecting it, or turn her back on you in a huff.

Or maybe a better metaphor would be a vacuum. I’m sorry, but you people and your brilliant ideas have PULL. How can they say no, when you’re so enthusiastic and convincing? With all due respect, if your research projects had been just a little less interesting, maybe the lawn might have gotten mowed.

The office itself seems to exert an actual physical suction force. How many of you feel that pull to go into the office in the evening, on weekends, during holidays? I still remember one day early in our marriage, in Davis, when Marc got up as usual on the Fourth of July and prepared to set off for the office, and I objected. “What do you mean it’s a holiday?” he said. “What for? This is great! It’ll be quiet and I can get some work done.”

As his role models, I hold these two men directly responsible for this. As a grad student, Marc had a standing meeting on Saturday with Dr. Brutsaert. And Yves’ year doesn’t include many days that don’t involve a walk into the office.

Marc has perpetuated this to another generation of grad students. I’ve been working for 22 years to break him down. So far, it’s not working. My apologies to all of you former students gathered here.

So pick your metaphor – mistress or vacuum – Yves and Wilfried most definitely had both the time and the effort required to become great scientists. Simple, right? Work like an energizer bunny, around the clock, and you’re a star. Not so fast.

In the spirit of things, I’ve quantified this for you.

(This is the slide):

Interpretation: One possible equation for Academic success (S) might look like this: it equals innate Intelligence plus acquired Intelligence plus the Number of publications plus the Number of honors and awards plus the quantity of money you raise plus the number of successful students you train plus an element of luck.

Everything except innate intelligence and luck requires time and energy. But time is a function of energy: the number of hours spent times some coefficient involving energy, because everyone knows an hour of work when you’re energized is much more productive than an hour of work when you’re stressed or tired. And we all know that energy is a function of time. When a deadline is approaching, your energy soars. And as you age, well ….

So you see, no matter how you boil it down – no matter how much of a genius you are or how much luck you have – reaching the level of success that we’re looking at here comes down to two critical interdependent variables- time and energy.

There’s not a whole lot you can do about the number of hours in a day.

So, energy. But what is human energy, anyway? Physical energy? Mental energy? Psychological energy? Where does it come from? How can you maximize it? (If you know please see me afterwards, I’d like to write a book and become a millionaire.)

Here’s a possible formula – Two parts passion, one part inspiration, one part people who believe in you, one part conviction, a sprinkle of self-confidence. Add a good night’s sleep, a healthy constitution, some regular exercise. Subtract outside distractions. Multiply this by a coefficient that represents continuity or stability.

I hope you are starting to see the picture. Making an impact is not just a matter of the number of hours you spend in the lab and how much you love what you do. It’s about how those hours are spent. It’s about having a critical balance of freedom, support and stability in your life so that you can fully engage your potential. I think, from all the evidence I have (which is considerable), that this balance in Yves and Wilfried’s lives owes much to the presence of Eileen and Toyoko.

A family isn’t a simple thing; kids have to be fed and watered and raised, and a million boring household tasks have to be seen to. This, too, takes time and energy. And when the storms come, like they do in any normal family, it’s critical that the ship have a solid anchor so the whole thing doesn’t founder on the rocks.

And don’t forget, there’s another family here. Eileen and Toyoko were often called upon to take in academic offspring; to feed, shelter, and otherwise care for these fledgling scientists, to help weather the storms that inevitably occurred in this family as well. And then when the students went off and got students of their own, they became academic grandmothers…

Eileen and Toyoko have sailed through all these ups and downs with fortitude, patience, and above all, grace. I know Eileen better than Toyoko, because I’m part of the family, but I will venture to say with certainty that these two women are supremely competent individuals, who have changed home, culture and even language for the cause. They’ve accepted the given that a “vacation” – banish the thought – more often than not implies visiting colleagues and listening to shop talk over the dinner table in some faraway place. Time and again they’ve put together a meal or fixed a spare bed to welcome a visitor, often on the spur of the moment. They’re capable of handling all kinds of situations on their own because if the years have taught one thing, it’s that sitting around waiting for someone else to figure things out is an exercise in futility.

Here’s a little test. Show of hands – how many of you have experienced Tyoko’s and Eileen’s generous hospitality? How many of you talked shop or university politics – in short gossiped – over the dinner table on such occasions? How many of you have gone in to work on the evenings or weekends with either of these guys (or their academic offspring) because “it’ll be quiet and we can get something done”?

Don’t be shy. I know who you are. I bet you all felt perfectly at ease with that. And that’s because Eileen and Tyoko are wonderful people who make you feel at home and who have come to terms with the reality that their husbands will often give priority to the demands of their mistress profession over those of the home hearth.

And by and large they’re okay with that, not because they’re resigned to it, but I believe because they truly respect the passion, the labor of love that brings so much meaning and satisfaction to the lives of the men they married.

These two men are so very lucky to have had such extraordinary lifemates to accompany them on their journey, to be mothers to their children, both genetic and academic, unsung partners in a venture for the greater good of science, and safe harbor in the storm. These things are NOT a given. They are a gift.

On that note, I would like to take this opportunity to present you both with a small token of appreciation – one that doesn’t even begin to reflect the important yet largely unacknowledged role you have played in the success of all the people gathered here today.  Thank you!!

Afterwards, many people came up to me and said things like that was great, Mary, we need to do something like this every time. Leave it to me to do the un-PC thing. Will it become a trend? Only time will tell.

12 thoughts on “The supportive spouse

  1. Mary had the best crafted and best received talk at the symposium. It was much appreciated by me and everyone with whom I spoke. Most of all, it was spot-on true. Two remarkable women (ok, let’s be honest, three – but we’ll get to those thanks later) getting a small measure of their richly deserved thanks from the community of people who benefited from their generosity. As one of those people, I thank Mary, Eileen, and Toyoko.

  2. Hi, Mary, Thanks for this! I am thoroughly enjoying your blog and this is my first visit – you have a great future as a millionaire author – I’ll buy your book – just let me know when it gets published – Love, Mary Kay

  3. Hi Mary,

    Since I was on an airplane to Denver during your talk it was great to read it and the touching story of interesting men and women in the academic world. It was a great meeting. It would be great to have Cornell create this event as an annual springtime honors symposium.

    Chris

  4. No question that much of what we achieve is only possible because of having committed partners who support our work and are ready to step in when needed. Thanks Mary for reminding us.

  5. Excellent idea Mary. Rick also read this post. He asked me to mention that he also completely agrees with your reasoning. Both spouses definitely needed to be honored and thanked.

  6. I wish all non-PC speeches were this thoughtful, articulate, and accurate. It is no small thing to stick around and be supportive, even for the best of them, excellent people who deserve the best themselves. Thank you for having the idea and for delivering it so beautifully. I’m proud to know you!!

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