The following is an adapted excerpt from Jen Psaki’s new book, “Say More: Lessons from the Job, the White House, and the World“.
The first time I really asked for something important in a job, or potential job, was when I was thirty-six. I was sitting in my living room one Saturday afternoon in 2015 when my phone rang. It was Denis McDonough, the White House chief of staff. At the time, I was a spokesperson for the State Department, and my immediate concern was that Secretary Kerry must have said something that made the White House so angry that it warranted a call from Denis. I braced myself when I answered.
But that wasn’t why he was calling. He got straight to the point. “President Obama wants you back for the home stretch as communications director,” he said. “I hope you’ll think about it.”
I loved working at the State Department, but when the president, or one of his representatives, calls you and asks you to do something, you immediately say yes. . . RIGHT? For the first time, it wasn’t so simple for me.
“I’m honored,” I replied. “But I have to tell you something that I haven’t shared with many people yet: I’m pregnant and I’m expecting my baby in July.”
After just fifteen seconds of thinking, I had talked myself out of the possibility of taking the position of communications director, a role that oversaw strategy and messaging to the White House and the president. In that short time, I concluded that Denis would immediately decide that a pregnant person was probably not the right choice. I thought he would wish me luck and move on to the next name on his list. But that’s not what he did.
“Congratulations,” replied Denis. “I’m so excited for you. We’ll figure out how to make everything work for you. Just promise me you’ll think about it.
“Okay,” I said. A little stunned that the offer was still valid given my personal news, I quickly realized that it was now a decision that I would have to make myself. Although I was a little intimidated, I’m grateful that Denis didn’t just accept my initial response and move on. When you let someone else make a decision for you, you eliminate options you might actually want and give that person power over your future.
This can be appealing because making decisions can be very difficult. But fear of having to balance priorities, make sacrifices, or face the consequences of your choices can limit your growth. Now it was up to me to decide: Did I want to return to the White House and work one of the most demanding jobs in government, just months before having my first child?
President Obama called me the next day. I will always remember that he began by apologizing for not having much time because “the king” (of Jordan) was waiting outside his office. He told me that having children was the best thing that ever happened to him and it would be the best thing for me too. He assured me that the team would work with me to find everything I needed, if I accepted the position. Which, according to the suggestion, was that I should do it.
My husband, Greg, and I sat down and talked about what would make this work possible. First, I needed twelve weeks of maternity leave. (At the time, there was no federal government maternity leave policy.) Second, we planned to put our daughter in daycare, and I wanted to be able to pick her up every day, which meant to leave work at 5:30 p.m. Greg would also have to arrive at her office a little later since he would be responsible for dropping her off in the morning. I was a little nervous to ask but also confident in my requests when I proposed these terms. For the first time in my career, I felt like I had to prioritize my needs.
Fortunately, there’s not much room for cinematic suspense here: Denis and President Obama agreed to my requests and even left the door open for me to ask for anything I might need once I had better understood the demands of being a new mother.
I was also a little afraid of being judged by my colleagues and the rest of the world for choosing to work such an intense job while having a newborn. But my former colleague Bill Burton gave me advice that pushed me over the edge.
“You want to be able to tell your daughter that when she was a baby, you did this job,” he said. And when I was massaging my five-month-old daughter’s belly while she cried with constipation on a late-night call to prepare for a prime-time presidential speech, I thought of Bill’s advice.
This will also make a great embarrassing story to tell when she’s a teenager. And we’ll always have the pictures of her playing on the floor with President Obama when I had to pick her up early from daycare and ended up staying a few hours after the president’s aide begged me to ‘take to the Oval Office to relax. the mood on a difficult day. That same afternoon, Denis took her outside to the playground on the South Lawn and even changed her diaper while I attended a meeting.
There were a few days where I couldn’t escape and Greg did the daycare pickup, but I left at 5:30 most nights. I had been very worried about asking Denis for this accommodation, but it was far from being the end of the world. People adapt. This is what cell phones and laptops are for.
My team became accustomed to me leaving the office at 5:30 p.m. every day and arriving around 7:30 a.m., which I was able to do because Greg took care of the morning tasks.
This doesn’t mean your team or bosses will always adapt, but when something is important and you’ve established yourself as a key player, your managers may be more flexible than you think.
Extract of “Say More: Lessons from the Job, the White House, and the World,” by Jen Psaki. Copyright 2024 © by Jen Psaki. Reprinted with permission from Scribner, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC
