Life On Deadline

Employee Spotlight Profile

Last week I read an interview with mega-successful producer Shonda Rhimes where she described work-life balance as a myth (and, pointedly, a myth that typically only women are asked to perform). She said, “If I am succeeding in one area of my life, I do feel like I’m failing in another, and that’s okay . . .  it’s okay to feel like you’re not giving 100% to everything.”

For me, balance looks like weekday dinners around our kitchen table, spontaneous little trips where my kids get my undivided attention while I allow my inbox to flood, and letting my husband do days in a row of bedtime tuck-ins and story times when I have a big project launch.

The sentiment got me thinking about how my own percentage is parsed (and, indeed, whether that is “okay”), and what that looks like at this point in my career.

When I started at Gardner Business Media in the spring of 2007 it was to take the role of managing editor for GBM’s Products Finishing brand – and for my husband and I to be closer to our Cincinnati-based families. I was fresh from the fast-paced agency world of Chicago, and had fairly recently graduated the Master’s program at Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism. The preceding few years had been a blur of tight deadlines and late nights and adrenaline-fueled writing and editing that wrung absolutely everything out of me. It was ultra-competitive, slick and caffeinated, and I could not have loved it more.

When I reached my first month’s magazine production deadline at Gardner, we were all poring over proofs, running a couple of hours behind. And like a screen going dark in a theatre, the workday ended. House lights came on, and everyone stood up, grabbed bags and keys and . . . just . . . left. In the middle of a deadline.

I was confounded, but also annoyed. Deadlines have heft. Immobile in front of you. Do. Not. Pass. How could we be successful if we could blow through and around one like that?

If I could go back and give advice to my 25-year-old self, I probably wouldn’t bother. She could not possibly understand what it is to take a deep breath, having done your best, and know the work will be there tomorrow. To know what it’s like to be “on deadline” for pumping milk for a crying baby that someone else is taking care of. To run breathless into a kindergarten theater performance five minutes too late. To be fully, undeniably present for someone else.

I couldn’t have imagined then that yes, a company can be successful, even when it prioritizes people over profits.

Back then, I thought, well, okay. I guess I need a hobby.

It’s the same “it’ll be here tomorrow,” family-first culture, looked on with such disdain in my mid-twenties, that was somehow (although I couldn’t know it then) such a perfect balance to my own “day is never done” ambition. I can’t help but think had I landed at a different company, I might be a different sort of person.

Gardner is a unique place to carve out a career. It’s a publishing company that is steeped not in the field of journalism, but in the manufacturing industry itself. It is leading-edge media with the rough, blue-collar cut of job shop work. Pleasantly old school, with Mad-Men-esque roots and the sort of genuine friendliness only found in the Midwest. People here are hard working and smart. (Oh, so smart.) And it’s the same “it’ll be here tomorrow,” family-first culture, looked on with such disdain in my mid-twenties, that was somehow (although I couldn’t know it then) such a perfect balance to my own “day is never done” ambition. I can’t help but think had I landed at a different company, I might be a different sort of person.

My role at Gardner evolved a lot over the years, winding around as I found new ways to be helpful as the business changed and grew with me. I edited more magazine brands, managed a team of editors, did a lot of hiring and training and system development.

I was in my mid-thirties and serving as director of editorial, on maternity leave with my second child in two years, when two of the owners of the company called me and asked to have lunch.

I remember being shocked and nervous. I had planned for a full 12-week leave, with piles of meticulous notes for my team, and all the earnest care of someone who desperately wants everyone to succeed while she is gone but still need her when she returns. The professional phone call felt foreign in that moment – this intrusion of normalcy to the fugue state of sleepless nights, warm baby and West Wing reruns. My mind poked around for possibilities. Could I be fired on maternity leave? Asked to step back? Return early?

Kate Hand, Gardner’s EVP of Content and Web, at work and at home in 2016. 

Over fancy salad, wearing real pants, I was asked to join Gardner’s executive leadership team when I returned from leave. To help run the company alongside the family ownership. It was a stunning moment for me. At a time when I had decided to lean out, feeling more vulnerable and distracted and less hungry for advancement than ever before, Gardner asked me to take the time I needed and then come back and help lead. So that’s what I did.

I think I mostly agree with Rhimes that “balance” is a myth. It implies some sort of tightrope walk between two worlds and the truth is that most days I’m taking a deep plunge on either side, and yes, letting something fail. For me, balance looks like weekday dinners around our kitchen table, spontaneous little trips where my kids get my undivided attention while I allow my inbox to flood, and letting my husband do days in a row of bedtime tuck-ins and story times when I have a big project launch. It also looks like letting the hours bleed into one another – making grocery lists during conference calls, sketching web development strategy while cuddling and watching Bluey.

In my current role as EVP of content and web at Gardner, with four teams to manage and big, exciting projects to work on, my life has been more reminiscent of those early days of grad school and work . . . even if me and my Honda minivan couldn’t be further away from that life. It’s faster, brighter, more caffeinated. Packing lunches, giving presentations, hurtling toward deadlines.

Grateful I’m at a company that not only allows but encourages me to swerve past when needed and circle back when I can.

I don’t really write very much as part of my role, so when I was asked to pen an employee spotlight, it felt kind of good to take a moment to do a different kind of reflection. When I finished writing, I looked up and it was 5:30 p.m. That’s my lone car in Gardner’s parking lot. Because my coworkers are all right where they should be – enjoying a lovely evening.

Need more information?
Kate Hand
Executive Vice President of Content and Web
Gardner Business Media, Inc.
800-950-8020
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About the Author

Kate Hand, EVP, Content & Web

As part of Gardner Business Media's executive team, Kate Hand works with all 12 of the company’s industry-focused brands to research and promote the very best in content-first editorial practices, engage teams in continuing education and strategize future content types, revenue streams, and staffing needs.

Hand started her career writing long-form feature and news editorial for arts publications and B-to-B business journals, then attended Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism, concentrating on the business of magazine publishing. From there, she worked in custom publishing in Chicago and then landed, back in her hometown of Cincinnati, at Gardner Business Media - the premier voice of the manufacturing industry.

Today, Hand leads Gardner’s talented web development, digital content, editorial production and creative production teams.