Today, I am thankful for the power of multitasking.
We’ve all been guilty of this sin. You’re sitting in a 3-hour meeting, surrounded by your trusted colleagues in a poorly-lit conference room, listening to a lackluster presentation regarding some ancillary topic that doesn’t directly influence your scope of responsibilities. As you listen, your mind wanders to your laptop in front of you, where your Microsoft email inbox is in full display. As the messages pile up in your inbox, you notice the email response you’ve received from your boss sitting idly in the list of unopened mail. So, naturally, after a few minutes, you can no longer resist the temptation. You open the email and become immediately immersed in drafting a response, as the idle conversation in the room drones on. All the while, the discussion gravitates to a topic that warrants your undivided attention. The laptop goes down, and you are back in the room, trying desperately to recall in your mind the words that were being spoken as you typed away on your keyboard.
Our brains have an uncanny ability to absorb a multitude of facts, data, and other information from multiple sources at once. However, no matter how much we revel in our innate skills of multitasking, we often fail to give any one topic its fair share of attention. Yet, multitasking is a survival mechanism we often employ to balance our hectic existences. The key is to ascertain when the skill is deemed appropriate vs. destructive to one’s own success. We should also consider if the temptation to multitask is truly a life-or-death situation. Sometimes, it actually is.
Today, I’m reminded of an American Revolutionary War hero who mastered the subtle art of multitasking. Born in Trenton in 1744, Mary ‘Molly’ Ludwig was like any other girl born into a simple family in colonial New Jersey. After her father died, Molly’s mother remarried and the family resettled in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, where she met and married a barber, William Hays. When war struck in 1776, William Hayes joined the Pennsylvania Artillery the following year. As was common at the time, Mary joined her husband and helped the Continental Army as needed. In the bitter cold at Valley Forge, Mary began her career as a multitasker. She worked with a cadre of women led by Martha Washington, to wash clothes and blankets. She also cared for the sick patients, many of which suffered from frostbite and infection. All the while, as her husband trained as a cannon gunner in early 1778, Mary carried water to the troops for drinking. Water was also used to douse sponges that were then ramrod into the cannon’s barrel after each firing to extinguish the gunpowder sparks. After each firing, the cannon gunners would call out ‘Molly! Pitcher!’, thereby earning her a long-lasting nickname.
That June, at the famed Battle of Monmouth, Molly’s skills at multitasking were again on full display. As the battle commenced in near 100-degree temperature, Molly carried water from several local springs to support the artillery efforts, while her husband William Hayes ramrod the cannons. However, William collapsed from heat exhaustion and was carried from the battlefield. As the legend is told, Molly grabbed her husband’s ramrod and assumed his role as artilleryman. Supposedly, at one point, a small cannonball passed under her legs, severing part of her petticoat. Undeterred, the determined Molly continued her duties faithfully, much to the admiration of Continental soldiers, including the watchful eye of General Washington. As the evening fell upon Monmouth, the British retreated from the stalemate, and Washington honored Mary for her courage and resolve by proclaiming her a non-commissioned officer, Sergeant Molly.
After the war ended, the implacable sergeant became an American hero in the states of Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The legend of Molly Pitcher was born. Whether the purported anecdotes surrounding Sergeant Molly are truth, myth, or some amalgamation of several women’s wartime tales has been debated by historical scholars for decades. Nevertheless, it stands as a testimony of the unyielding war support provided by many women during the Revolutionary War and every other skirmish since.
Now that I’ve shared Molly’s story in all its rightful glory, I should really get back to paying attention to my meeting.
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