Jessica Shortall: The US needs paid family leave — for the sake of its future

Jessica Shortall is a working mom of two and author of Work. Pump. Repeat: The New Mom's Survival Guide to Breastfeeding and Going Back to Work. *Why you should listen What do breastfeeding and paid leave for working mothers, sustainable eye care, hunger, green investing, giving shoes and the business case for LGBT equality have in common? For Jessica Shortall, they have all been opportunities to change the world: challenges that need sustainable solutions and require a deep understanding of market forces, audiences, and cultures. They all require an intense dive into data, and they all benefit from powerful storytelling. Shortall has provided strategy consulting to dozens of businesses, social enterprises, non-profit organizations and campaigns in the US, UK and beyond. Her first book, Work. Pump. Repeat: The New Mom's Guide to Surviving Breastfeeding and Going Back to Work, was inspired by her own experiences of circumnavigating the globe with a breast pump. She interviewed hundreds of working mothers and dozens of HR professionals to create a practical, relatable, judgment-free guide for women who want to try to continue breastfeeding after they've returned to work. Shortall started her adult life as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Uzbekistan, and she haven't stopped searching for ways to change the world since, across non-profit and for-profit worlds. In the early 2000s, she co-founded and franchised a non-profit organization that is now active in more than 40 communities. In 2006, she received an MBA with honors from the University of Oxford, as a Skoll Scholar in Social Entrepreneurship. She went on to spend three years providing consulting services to social entrepreneurs. From 2009 to 2014, she was the first Director of Giving at TOMS Shoes, hired to build out the now-iconic One for One giving mission and strategy. She currently lives in Dallas, TX with her husband Clay and her two children. *Transcript What does a working mother look like? If you ask the Internet, this is what you'll be told. Never mind that this is what you'll actually produce if you attempt to work at a computer with a baby on your lap. But no, this is a working mother. You'll notice a theme in these photos. We'll look at a lot of them. That theme is amazing natural lighting, which, as we all know, is the hallmark of every American workplace. There are thousands of images like these. Just put the term "working mother" into any Google image search engine, stock photo site. They're all over the Internet, they're topping blog posts and news pieces, and I've become kind of obsessed with them and the lie that they tell us and the comfort that they give us, that when it comes to new working motherhood in America, everything's fine. But it's not fine. As a country, we are sending millions of women back to work every year, incredibly and kind of horrifically soon after they give birth. That's a moral problem but today I'm also going to tell you why it's an economic problem. I got so annoyed and obsessed with the unreality of these images, which look nothing like my life, that I recently decided to shoot and star in a parody series of stock photos that I hoped the world would start to use just showing the really awkward reality of going back to work when your baby's food source is attached to your body. I'm just going to show you two of them. Nothing says "Give that girl a promotion" like leaking breast milk through your dress during a presentation. You'll notice that there's no baby in this photo, because that's not how this works, not for most working mothers. Did you know, and this will ruin your day, that every time a toilet is flushed, its contents are aerosolized and they'll stay airborne for hours? And yet, for many new working mothers, this is the only place during the day that they can find to make food for their newborn babies. I put these things, a whole dozen of them, into the world. I wanted to make a point. I didn't know what I was also doing was opening a door, because now, total strangers from all walks of life write to me all the time just to tell me what it's like for them to go back to work within days or weeks of having a baby. I'm going to share 10 of their stories with you today. They are totally real, some of them are very raw, and not one of them looks anything like this. Here's the first. "I was an active duty service member at a federal prison. I returned to work after the maximum allowed eight weeks for my C-section. A male coworker was annoyed that I had been out on 'vacation,' so he intentionally opened the door on me while I was pumping breast milk and stood in the doorway with inmates in the hallway." Most of the stories that these women, total strangers, send to me now, are not actually even about breastfeeding. A woman wrote to me to say, "I gave birth to twins and went back to work after seven unpaid weeks. Emotionally, I was a wreck. Physically, I had a severe hemorrhage during labor, and major tearing, so I could barely get up, sit or walk. My employer told me I wasn't allowed to use my available vacation days because it was budget season." I've come to believe that we can't look situations like these in the eye because then we'd be horrified, and if we get horrified then we have to do something about it. So we choose to look at, and believe, this image. I don't really know what's going on in this picture, because I find it weird and slightly creepy. Like, what is she doing? But I know what it tells us. It tells us that everything's fine. This working mother, all working mothers and all of their babies, are fine. There's nothing to see here. And anyway, women have made a choice, so none of it's even our problem. I want to break this choice thing down into two parts. The first choice says that women have chosen to work. So, that's not true. Today in America, women make up 47 percent of the workforce, and in 40 percent of American households a woman is the sole or primary breadwinner. Our paid work is a part, a huge part, of the engine of this economy, and it is essential for the engines of our families. On a national level, our paid work is not optional. Choice number two says that women are choosing to have babies, so women alone should bear the consequences of those choices. You know, that's one of those things that when you hear it in passing, can sound correct. I didn't make you have a baby. I certainly wasn't there when that happened. But that stance ignores a fundamental truth, which is that our procreation on a national scale is not optional. The babies that women, many of them working women, are having today, will one day fill our workforce, protect our shores, make up our tax base. Our procreation on a national scale is not optional. These aren't choices. We need women to work. We need working women to have babies. So we should make doing those things at the same time at least palatable, right? OK, this is pop quiz time: what percentage of working women in America do you think have no access to paid maternity leave? 88 percent. 88 percent of working mothers will not get one minute of paid leave after they have a baby. So now you're thinking about unpaid leave. It exists in America. It's called FMLA. It does not work. Because of the way it's structured, all kinds of exceptions, half of new mothers are ineligible for it. Here's what that looks like. "We adopted our son. When I got the call, the day he was born, I had to take off work. I had not been there long enough to qualify for FMLA, so I wasn't eligible for unpaid leave. When I took time off to meet my newborn son, I lost my job." These corporate stock photos hide another reality, another layer. Of those who do have access to just that unpaid leave, most women can't afford to take much of it at all. A nurse told me, "I didn't qualify for short-term disability because my pregnancy was considered a preexisting condition. We used up all of our tax returns and half of our savings during my six unpaid weeks. We just couldn't manage any longer. Physically it was hard, but emotionally it was worse. I struggled for months being away from my son." So this decision to go back to work so early, it's a rational economic decision driven by family finances, but it's often physically horrific because putting a human into the world is messy. A waitress told me, "With my first baby, I was back at work five weeks postpartum. With my second, I had to have major surgery after giving birth, so I waited until six weeks to go back. I had third degree tears." 23 percent of new working mothers in America will be back on the job within two weeks of giving birth. "I worked as a bartender and cook, average of 75 hours a week while pregnant. I had to return to work before my baby was a month old, working 60 hours a week. One of my coworkers was only able to afford 10 days off with her baby." Of course, this isn't just a scenario with economic and physical implications. Childbirth is, and always will be, an enormous psychological event. A teacher told me, "I returned to work eight weeks after my son was born. I already suffer from anxiety, but the panic attacks I had prior to returning to work were unbearable." Statistically speaking, the shorter a woman's leave after having a baby, the more likely she will be to suffer from postpartum mood disorders like depression and anxiety, and among many potential consequences of those disorders, suicide is the second most common cause of death in a woman's first year postpartum. Heads up that this next story -- I've never met this woman, but I find it hard to get through. "I feel tremendous grief and rage that I lost an essential, irreplaceable and formative time with my son. Labor and delivery left me feeling absolutely broken. For months, all I remember is the screaming: colic, they said. On the inside, I was drowning. Every morning, I asked myself how much longer I could do it. I was allowed to bring my baby to work. I closed my office door while I rocked and shushed and begged him to stop screaming so I wouldn't get in trouble. I hid behind that office door every damn day and cried while he screamed. I cried in the bathroom while I washed out the pump equipment. Every day, I cried all the way to work and all the way home again. I promised my boss that the work I didn't get done during the day, I'd make up at night from home. I thought, there's just something wrong with me that I can't swing this." So those are the mothers. What of the babies? As a country, do we care about the millions of babies born every year to working mothers? I say we don't, not until they're of working and tax-paying and military-serving age. We tell them we'll see them in 18 years, and getting there is kind of on them. One of the reasons I know this is that babies whose mothers have 12 or more weeks at home with them are more likely to get their vaccinations and their well checks in their first year, so those babies are more protected from deadly and disabling diseases. But those things are hidden behind images like this. America has a message for new mothers who work and for their babies. Whatever time you get together, you should be grateful for it, and you're an inconvenience to the economy and to your employers. That narrative of gratitude runs through a lot of the stories I hear. A woman told me, "I went back at eight weeks after my C-section because my husband was out of work. Without me, my daughter had failure to thrive. She wouldn't take a bottle. She started losing weight. Thankfully, my manager was very understanding. He let my mom bring my baby, who was on oxygen and a monitor, four times a shift so I could nurse her." More transcript please see: http://www.ted.com/talks/jessica_shortall_how_america_fails_new_parents_and_their_babies/transcript?language=en