Back in 2002, months after being laid off from a television producing job, I secured an interview for an editorial position in the communications department of an Ivy League college. The most memorable part of the exchange between my 30-something female interviewer and me went something like this:

Me: What are the hours for this position?

Interviewer: Well, my daughter is in kindergarten and I leave at 3:30 every day so that I can spend time with her. You will be expected to stay until 5 p.m. or occasionally later if it's a deadline day. You're single, right?

I nodded, speechless. I didn't realize my marital status could have a bearing on my work schedule. She had made a judgment, announcing rank based not on a supervisor-subordinate relationship but a married-trumps-single hierarchy. My "non-work" life consisting of taking evening classes, dining with friends, visiting my parents and dating was clearly a notch below parenting responsibilities.