There’s a really interesting conversation starting in one of our discussion groups, where a member asked if anyone feels pressure at work because they’re black. The question struck a chord with me and really made me think.

As you can see from my picture at the top of this page, I’m a woman of color. What you can’t see is that I’m a woman of many colors — my mom is from India, but she’s of Persian decent and looks Greek; my dad is from Haiti, but his family’s roots go back to France, Germany, Africa, and the Arawak Indians who were the natives of Haiti before everyone else got there. I’ve never been able to choose one facet of my ethnicity over another — when it comes to race, I’ve always checked “other”, and if “other” isn’t an option, I either check several different things or nothing at all. So when it comes to race in the workplace, I really have to think about where I stand and how, or if, it has affected me. Read the rest of this entry »

I am wiped out. Completely. So much so that, in lieu of a proper post, I’m just going to blog my Saturday for you:

1 a.m. Go to bed.

3 a.m. Get up, go to toddler’s room. Toddler is shrieking like he’s being eaten by lions, but stops and smiles the instant I enter the room and chirps, “Monnin’, Mama!” It is not morning.

3:25. a.m. Back to bed. Glance at husband, who can sleep through anything and is, in fact, doing so.

5:45 a.m. Back to toddler. Tell him that it is still not morning.

6 a.m. Back to bed.

6:30 a.m. Give up, go to toddler’s room, concede that it is, technically, morning. Change nastiest diaper on earth. Why do 20-month-old boys eat crayons, for God’s sake?

7 a.m. Take him downstairs before he wakes up the rest of the house.

7: 07 a.m. Ahhhh, coffee.

7:15 a.m. Ahhhh, more coffee.

7:20. a.m. Make breakfast. Fruit and granola and yogurt for toddler and preschooler, who I am certain will appear behind me at any moment.

7:32 a.m. Preschooler materializes by my side and stands there, silently grinning, until I notice her and jump out of my skin. Read the rest of this entry »

A long time ago, my grandmother told me that I’d have to choose: I could either be sweet and well-liked (and make do with whatever the world decided to hand to me) or I could be aggressive, go after what I want, and be considered a bitch.

I didn’t believe her.

But she was right.

I had a pretty stark reminder of this at work some time ago. We were down a person, and the projects were piling up. One that was in pretty bad shape landed on my desk, and I threw myself into it 110 percent. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m sick. Again.

(Of course, I’m at work. Why do you ask?)

The other night, my husband remarked that, in the past few months, both he and I have been sick more frequently than ever before. But why? Sure, we’re overworked, but not any more than we’ve always been. We’ve been eating more healthily, exercising more often — OK, that’s a lie, he’s been exercising, I’ve been, um… look over there! Something shiny!

Really, though, we couldn’t figure out why we were caught in this cycle of sinus headaches and hacking coughs. We feebly tossed around a few more ideas (is it the weather? Do we need vitamins?) while my husband reminded L. to cover her mouth when she sneezed and I wiped O.’s streaming nose for the umpteenth time, and then it hit us … Read the rest of this entry »