Whenever there’s a tedious new eruption of the so-called Mommy Wars (watch out, Ann Romney), I summon up an indelible image of my mother from when I was around 11. She was heading out, dressed in a form-fitting black coat with a mustard-coloured little hat perched on her head.
In the midst of a difficult marriage that would eventually end in divorce, she was off to a momentous job interview. She landed the job – as an executive assistant at a scholarship trust foundation. And for more than two decades, her work shaped and sustained her.