What is ambition?

or, finding nuance in a complicated concept

In his second grade reading class, my son is currently learning about character traits. As part of this unit, the students had to choose one trait to describe themselves. When I asked him what he chose, he said “ambitious”. I have to admit, I was surprised. Despite writing a regular newsletter with the word ambition in the title, it’s not necessarily a word I use often, and I was curious why he chose it. When I asked him how it applied to him, he told me “I’m always determined to succeed”. Strictly speaking, his definition is correct. But—as we all know—ambition is a complicated word, with various (and often pejorative) connotations.

Occasionally, I’ll get an email from a reader questioning the title of my newsletter. The truth is that it comes from the Dolly Parton song ‘9-to-5’ (a truly great song, by the way). But as I acknowledged in my very first article: “Though it’s meant to be cheeky and cute, the truth is that ambition is a loaded word…especially for women, and most especially for working mothers.”

Though I didn't think this was possible back when I first wrote those words in January of 2022, I think the concept of ambition has become even more controversial. It seems like once I week I read an op-ed questioning whether ambition is still relevant in our post-pandemic workplaces. So, today I wanted to revisit my original post and re-examine it with some additional nuance.

Ambition: Then

The following is an excerpt from my first-ever ACOA post.

Let’s rewind to early 2015. I was 8 months pregnant with my son and sitting in my (then) boss’s office. I had spent the last several months conceptualizing a new program for the university at which I worked. Mental health issues among students were increasing in prevalence and acuity, and the university asked me to rethink how they identified and supported students of concern. I was a former therapist with a Ph.D. in social work who had experience in program development and management—I was also in a poorly defined role and thus eager to take on this project in the hopes that it would lead to a new and more fulfilling job. 

My boss was pleased with my work. She agreed that I was the obvious choice to lead the new program, “but”, she noted, “you may not want it”. I looked at her like she had three heads—of course I wanted it! It was a major promotion, it played to my strengths, and I had spent months designing the program model myself; this was the professional opportunity I was looking for. She smiled kindly and, with genuine concern, said, “once the baby comes, you may find that you’re less interested in work. You might find that you’re less… ambitious”. 

I assured her that I very much wanted the role, and she said it was mine. I called my husband—he was thrilled that the big promotion was finalized and wanted to celebrate. As I sat sipping a not-so-celebratory sparkling water at our favorite restaurant later that night, I couldn’t help but feel there was a dark cloud over the festivity. Lose my ambition? What kind of sexist bullshit was that? Ambition was in my blood. I’d show anyone who doubted me.

And I did. I built a well-respected program that made a real difference in students’ lives. I also settled nicely into motherhood. After a difficult pregnancy, I was one of those rare individuals who actually loved the newborn phase, finding sleep deprivation superior to near-constant vomiting. I had reliable childcare, a decently flexible schedule, and a sense of purpose. I hit my stride… and then I stumbled.

The wheels started falling off after a devastating and medically complex miscarriage. Shortly after, things started crumbling at work too. Senior leadership made a series of decisions that didn’t align with my values, and I started feeling betrayed and burnt out. Infertility and additional pregnancy loss followed. It was a dark time, and the dissatisfaction at work and devastation in my personal life were mutually reinforcing. 

After several rounds of fertility treatments, I was finally pregnant with my daughter. I was also on the job market. My husband was applying for a new job and we were in the midst of a national dual-career search. Interviewers asked me “if you could design any role for yourself, what would it be?” I didn’t have a good answer. Part of me wanted to continue up the academic leadership ladder and part of me wanted to step back into a part-time gig that would allow me to spend more time with my kids. My ambition had turned, unsettlingly, into ambivalence.

When I was younger, I used to think of my career trajectory as a staircase, with each degree and job building upon the previous one. Maybe you’d skip a step or two, but you were constantly moving upwards, achieving more.  Life, as it turns out, is rarely linear. Inspiration, dedication, and (yes) ambition ebb and flow. Circumstances change and support systems fluctuate. And that’s before you add a global pandemic to the equation…

This newsletter is for women who embrace dualities. Working moms [and dads and non-binary folks!] who value professional success and being an involved parent. Whether, in this moment, your cup is overflowing with ambition or you identify more with the “yawn and stretch and try to come to life” part of the song.

Ambition: Now

All of the above remains true. And yet, so many people still bristle at embracing complex dualities. Holding simultaneous conflicting feelings (ambivalence) is seen as being in conflict with a strong desire to succeed (ambition). But, I think that’s a misinterpretation. See, I never felt ambivalent about my desire to be successful. Instead, I felt ambivalent about what success meant to me. Before having kids, success primarily entailed external markers of achievement. After becoming a mother, it expanded much beyond that.

I believe that almost everyone wants to succeed in living a life of meaning and purpose. What if, instead of questioning whether we’ve lost our “ambition”, we started interrogating our definition of “success”?

I’d love to hear from you in the comments:

• How do you define success in this stage of your life?

• What are meaningful measurements of your success?

• As our kids grow, our definition will likely morph again. How will you know that it’s time to re-visit your definition and markers of success?

---

I’ll leave you with this gem, courtesy of Queen Dolly 👑

---