The “Take Your Daughter to Work” Life
“Let me stress this point: it is in the simplicity of your ordinary work, in the monotonous details of each day, that you have to find the secret, which is hidden from so many, of something great and new: Love” (St. Josemaría Escrivá).
This year, Take a Child to Work Day (also known as Take our Sons and Daughters to Work Day) falls on April 25, 2025. Originally founded in 1992 by Gloria Steinem as “Take Our Daughters to Work Day,” it was a day meant to offer role models in a variety of professions to young girls and inspire them to dream big about their futures. It was expanded in 2003 to include sons as well to offer that opportunity to all children.
From “Take a Child to Work Day”...
As a child, I vividly remember many visits to my father’s workplace—the specific smell, his giant (to me) desk, and the satisfyingly click-y pens that always sat in the pen holder and lived in his pocket. The “click-click-click” of the pen meant he was coming down the hallway.
Of course, a key detail to note is that my father was an OBGYN, so visits to his office also came with lots of stork decor and photos of babies he’d delivered, more than a few named Brian or Brianna, after him. (Never one to let me believe that storks did his job, at home, I also had a very detailed lift-the-flap book about pregnancy and childbirth).
As I got older, the medical texts, anatomical models, and occasional peek in an empty exam room started to register. I can still close my eyes and experience the clicking of the pens and the specific smell of his office.
…to the “Take My Daughter to Work” Life
When I found out I was pregnant, I looked forward to bringing my daughter by my office on occasion as my co-workers did—letting her sit at my desk, where she would make everyone laugh and say, “This is where Mama works!” However, things turned out differently. My daughter was born seven weeks before COVID lockdowns began, and when I returned from maternity leave, it was to a desk crammed in the corner of my tiny apartment living room, where I used these new tools called “Zoom” and “Microsoft Teams.”
My daughter was present at infinite Zoom meetings, during which I often had to go off camera to nurse or hold her while she napped. My co-workers and a wide network of people from other organizations know her name and (still) ask about her. When things went back to “normal,” I decided to start my own business and now work from home—essentially making every day Take My Daughter to Work Day (sorry, clients who saw her bust in wearing a cowboy hat and covered in jam!)
This reality was not something I had planned; my childhood experiences were of an office that was very removed from our home. It was a treat to visit, I was spoiled by all his colleagues, and sometimes we stopped in on the weekends to grab something when it was dark and quiet. My daughter’s experience, instead, is one of confusion—how can I be a few steps away but not available? Why am I always checking my email while attempting to make her lunch? Both my husband and I work for ourselves, meaning that we’re flexible but also do not have standard hours and constantly trade off which one of us is doing what, when.
However stressful this approach can be from day to day and moment to moment, it does have its benefits. My daughter gets to see both of us in a professional role, she has met many of the people we work with (even if it’s just virtually), and working doesn’t have to be an exalted state that’s only accessible to children on very special occasions. She is learning there’s a give and take: Spending the morning at her preschool means I definitely have to work in the afternoon. Being on a client meeting means my door (now that I have one!) is closed. For me, it’s a reminder that I do need formal hours and that checking my email while cooking will result in burnt dinner.
I’m grateful that this “new normal” way of working allows me to see her during the day and share more of myself with my clients. I’ve found that the majority appreciate it and are understanding that life and work aren’t mutually exclusive. I’ve gotten to hear about their children and pets (and meet many of them!) along the way as well. I don’t have any click-y pens, but my daughter does like to sneak in and steal my fidget toys (my own fault for getting one shaped like a tiny triceratops) and offer hugs.
Whatever your work entails, and wherever it takes place, kids can benefit from seeing their parents as whole people—and we can all benefit from reminding ourselves that a life outside the office (or corner desk in your living room) beckons.
Sarah Battersby has a Bachelor's in English and a Master's in Social Work and has spent most of her career working with students and student-serving organizations. She currently works for the small consulting firm she co-owns. She loves reading, baking and discovering new things with her daughter. She lives in North Carolina with her family.