Skip to main content

Working Parents

My friend M is has one kid graduating college this year and the other who is a rising senior at high school. M's oldest goes to an elite university and it is expensive. Parents pay for most of it as there was no clear expectation that the child would pitch it too. There seems to be this implied understanding that parents will pick up the tab for school - however long that experience lasts. Even when times were tough with one of the parents being laid off, expectations were not recalibrated. The kids have learned to be oblivious to the issue of money - it just comes along as needed. Now the oldest wants to go to grad school at the same time as the youngest will start college - presumably a fancy one like the big sister given her profile. 

While the kids in this case may not be financially hobbled for life given generous parents with income to support their education, the impact on M and her husband is starkly obvious. They are both committed to staying in the workforce for years too come battling ageism and risk of displacement by younger cheaper employees. M took up a global role recently too afraid to turn it down and be out of a job entirely. Now she works round the clock except for few hours of sleep. Clients have crises every hour and day of the week and M is the point person. 

She has not taken a vacation in over a decade - there is never any time for that. Any downtime she gets, she stays home and recharges her batteries while her husband picks up the slack. His job is highly specialized making it very difficult to have career mobility at his age - so he hunkers down and does what he can to contribute financially. Sometimes it seems like their marriage hangs by a thread - that of educating their children, there is no time or mental capacity to think beyond that. The plight of parents who are working hard to ensure the financial freedom of their kids is no less remarkable. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...