People who have multiple commitments, connections, and interests are richer human beings

Recently I met a woman who wanted to know what her life would look like were she to join the editorial team at Mishpacha. “If my sister were marrying off a child on a closing day,” she asked, “would I have to miss the wedding?”

No, she wouldn’t. Our team would step up to make sure her family could come first. She might have to put in extra hours the night before, wake up a bit earlier the day of, make sure all her files and assignments have final approval. Depending on her level of seniority and responsibility, she might have to check in by phone or email before leaving to the wedding. But we’d be there to take up the slack.

And were she to have a child’s siddur party, or a parent’s yahrtzeit, or a family emergency, our team would extend the same understanding and help fill in the holes so she could be the mother, daughter, or spouse she needs to be.

Would we prefer to hire people who unplug entirely from family and community when they plug in to their work assignments? It does sound tempting. Sometimes I build a profile of the ideal hire in my mind: male, with a spouse who takes care of all pediatricians’ appointments and correspondence with irate teachers. Lives and breathes media, pursues sources and scoops 24/6. Does not receive too many phone calls from children during work hours. Can hit the road at a moment’s notice. Is able to drop everything and report a breaking story on Erev Shabbos without worrying about what the family will eat.

Thankfully, we have some people who meet most of that description — but many, many of our team members are women who have significant duties at home. Even among the men, there’s lots of juggling going on: cute little voices on speaker phone, visits to the emergency room with a child needing stitches, school crises, family and community obligations. (Some of them cook too.)

In this business — as in most businesses — you need to be able to achieve a certain disconnect if you want to be productive. To really write, or edit, or create, you need the ability to shut the door and zone in on the computer and achieve that intense concentration that lifts you into a sphere far above the mundanity of “remind the babysitter to heat up the meatballs.”

When you get the phone call about the child who needs stitches on a closing day, it’s not the ideal situation for anyone. Not for the people left behind in the office, not for the processes that must be newly tailored to the existing staff, not for the product that’s missing a vital contributor.

But the other side is real too.

From a managerial perspective, I see that our operation only gains from giving our staff flex time. In almost every case, they pay it back plus: working later at night, putting in an hour or two at odd times, coming through for others when the going gets rough. They appreciate that accommodation and exert themselves to make sure the product (and team) won’t suffer.

From a quality perspective, I’ve come to learn that the magazine gains too. So much of what makes this product live and breathe is the very varied and rich experience of the humans who create it. Those encounters and obligations — the irritated teacher, the touching school performance, the hour in the cemetery, the stirring shiur, the camp send-off, the exposure to new thoughts or opinions or lifestyles — they tend to leave marks, spark new ideas, add color and texture to the work we subsequently do.

People who have multiple commitments, connections, and interests are richer human beings. They have more to contribute. We need all of our team members to achieve the necessary singular focus and make their work a priority. We need to know that after the ER visit is over and everyone is safe and healthy, they’ll get back on the job. But the waiting families and friends, the vibrant social obligations, the push and pull that’s the inevitable byproduct of vital roles in varied social circles — all these mean a better magazine.

Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 863.