Lately, I’ve been writing about disabled mother entrepreneurs. But truthfully? I’ve also been writing about myself.
Not directly, of course. I’m not disabled. But I am a mother. A mother who has spent most of her academic career negotiating with time like it’s a grumpy landlord.
While writing this paper, I found myself pausing more often than usual .... not because of writer’s block, but because every paragraph felt like a quiet echo of my own life.
I’ve been exploring how time becomes a form of exclusion. Not deadlines. Not timetables. But the deep, institutional assumption that everyone is running on the same clock .... a fast, linear, always-on, productivity-optimized clock.
Except… I wasn’t.
Four kids. Four major surgeries. Four so-called “maternity leaves” where I was still writing papers at night while feeding babies, healing (or pretending to), and trying to keep up with a profession that doesn’t pause. There were times when my pace slowed, but academia’s clock never did.
I was told, when applying for promotion, “We can’t lower the bar.”
But I wasn’t asking for the bar to be lowered. I was asking for a different kind of stopwatch. One that accounts for endurance. For invisible labour. For quiet, slow persistence.
I was asking for time to count differently. To be seen not as less productive, but as moving through a different rhythm .... one shaped by care, recovery, and endurance.
While writing this paper, I found myself revisiting these memories. Not with bitterness, but with a sharper lens. Because what I’ve been calling temporal injustice in the lives of my research participants… I’ve lived a version of that.
And that’s made me wonder:
Who gets to slow down without being penalized?
Who is allowed to care, to pause, to heal .... and still belong?
Academia loves its buzzwords: inclusion, diversity, equity. But when time itself becomes a gatekeeper, what kind of inclusion are we talking about?
So yes, I’m researching time.
But honestly?
Lately, it feels like time has been researching me, too.
P.S. Photos from the days when I was learning to hold babies in one hand, and my career in the other.
#WimpyAcademic #TemporalInjustice #DisabledMothers #InclusiveAcademia #AcademicLife #CareWork
Not directly, of course. I’m not disabled. But I am a mother. A mother who has spent most of her academic career negotiating with time like it’s a grumpy landlord.
While writing this paper, I found myself pausing more often than usual .... not because of writer’s block, but because every paragraph felt like a quiet echo of my own life.
I’ve been exploring how time becomes a form of exclusion. Not deadlines. Not timetables. But the deep, institutional assumption that everyone is running on the same clock .... a fast, linear, always-on, productivity-optimized clock.
Except… I wasn’t.
Four kids. Four major surgeries. Four so-called “maternity leaves” where I was still writing papers at night while feeding babies, healing (or pretending to), and trying to keep up with a profession that doesn’t pause. There were times when my pace slowed, but academia’s clock never did.
I was told, when applying for promotion, “We can’t lower the bar.”
But I wasn’t asking for the bar to be lowered. I was asking for a different kind of stopwatch. One that accounts for endurance. For invisible labour. For quiet, slow persistence.
I was asking for time to count differently. To be seen not as less productive, but as moving through a different rhythm .... one shaped by care, recovery, and endurance.
While writing this paper, I found myself revisiting these memories. Not with bitterness, but with a sharper lens. Because what I’ve been calling temporal injustice in the lives of my research participants… I’ve lived a version of that.
And that’s made me wonder:
Who gets to slow down without being penalized?
Who is allowed to care, to pause, to heal .... and still belong?
Academia loves its buzzwords: inclusion, diversity, equity. But when time itself becomes a gatekeeper, what kind of inclusion are we talking about?
So yes, I’m researching time.
But honestly?
Lately, it feels like time has been researching me, too.
P.S. Photos from the days when I was learning to hold babies in one hand, and my career in the other.
#WimpyAcademic #TemporalInjustice #DisabledMothers #InclusiveAcademia #AcademicLife #CareWork
