Print This PostThe old adage goes that the three things you should never talk about in polite company are money, politics and religion. In my latest blog about parenthood and academia, perhaps surprisingly, I’ll be touching on all three.
If you’ve been following this series, you’ll be able to discern that I’m now three months into maternity leave – at the time of writing I’m accompanied by my 12-week-old child. As you’d expect if you’ve ever had a baby or been around a new parent, I’m pretty tired. Thankfully, my baby is generally a very good sleeper. For a couple of months now we’ve been putting him to sleep when we go to bed, around 10pm, then he’ll wake for a feed at perhaps 4am, and usually sleep again until 7 or 8am. The last three nights, in fact, he’s gone down by 9 and not woken up for a feed until 6am – a minor miracle! When he does wake in the night for a feed, this process might take half an hour, which is pretty manageable. Unfortunately, when he goes back to sleep, more often than not I can’t. Instead, I’ll lie awake for a couple of hours thinking about money.
I’m pretty frugal by nature; I can make a modest income go a long way.
My perspective might be unpopular with this audience, but one of my pet hates is hearing people complain about the PhD stipend. Thankfully, my funder (and many others) put up their stipend rate last year in response to the escalating cost of living crisis. This was obviously gratefully received, but I could’ve managed either way. Partly because I’m one half of a couple (although a primary school teacher’s salary isn’t exactly baller material), but mainly because I’ve made do on much less. At the end of each month, as a PhD student, I take home more than I ever did in the six years I worked for the Church of England. In retrospect, the salary I earned in that context seems somewhat exploitative – particularly as my employer could dictate the (expensive) area in which I lived, and the fact I always had to work evenings, weekends, Christmas and Easter. I also recognise that there are a lot of people with an income more modest than my stipend, who aren’t going to receive the title of ‘doctor’ at the end of it, so I count my blessings… and my pennies.
So, as far as I’m concerned living on a stipend is more than achievable for me – that is, until you have to factor an extra person in. It goes without saying that the cost of childcare in the UK is extremely high – particularly in London, where I am based. If I were to register my son for a full-time place at my local nursery upon my return to work, it would cost me £1900 per month. For the uninitiated, that is more than my stipend. Presumably I also need to find some extra money from somewhere to enable us to rent a flat with a second bedroom. Where could I possibly find all that extra money? So, between 4am and 6am, I lie awake.
This has been something of a trend for the last 9 months or so – stressing about money. When I found out I was pregnant it didn’t take long for me to do the maths and start panicking. It took my institution several months to confirm what my maternity entitlements would be, which didn’t help the constant sense of dread. My sister messaged to reassure me, and point out that the government had announced that they would be extending free childcare provision to younger age groups. By the time my child was 9 months old (at which point I would be returning to work), he would be eligible for 15 hours of free childcare. I was so relieved – 15 hours wasn’t loads, but it was certainly better than nothing. I figured that maybe I could take those two days, pay for another one, and work my remaining hours during nap times, evenings or weekends. It wasn’t ideal, but I could manage it for the two years I have left of my PhD. Alas, I should have read the small print. A few months ago, in the middle of the night, I awoke to the sudden realisation that this was for working parents. As a PhD student, I don’t qualify. There are other provisions for students, but only undergraduates. Some institutions offer subsidised childcare for their students, but not mine. I appear to have fallen into a bit of a black hole, where nothing applies. I can’t even rely on free childcare from my extended family – my brother and sister live in the UK, with young families of their own, but my parents and the rest of my family are back in New Zealand, so there’s not a lot they can do from there.
Months of stressing culminated this week in my sending a rage-fuelled email to my local MP (I look forward to receiving your reply, Keir!). Surely some extra provision could be available for parents in my situation? Is studying for a PhD not enough like work? I imagine I’ll be drafting a similar email to my institution. I would love universities to consider ways that they can better support their students to complete their studies when they are also managing caring responsibilities – particularly as this is an issue that disproportionately affects women, so to me, it’s also an issue of equity.
I say all this not for sympathy, or for some anonymous benefactor to suddenly send me a small fortune (although, please do!), but to highlight the current realities and difficult decisions faced by early career researchers and doctoral students when juggling parenthood. Perhaps nothing will change, but saying something – to my MP, to my institution – is better than saying nothing at all. Maybe it will even help me to sleep at night.
Emily Spencer
Author
Emily Spencer is a PhD Student at University College London looking at improving how GPs communicate with people with dementia and their family carers about their future care. Emily previous had a 5 year career break to pursue a career as a musician, and has previously undertaken research on improving the care people with dementia receive from their GP practice, as well as end-of-life and palliative care provision in the community. Emily is also a new mum and will be writing about her experiences navigating motherhood and a research career.
