Then, today, I saw the following on Facebook and thought: EXACTLY! Jada Pinkett Smith posted a response to criticism leveled against her for allowing her daughter, Willow, to cut her hair off and dye what remained pink.
“A letter to a friend…This subject is old but I have never answered it in its entirety. And even with this post it will remain incomplete. The question why I would LET Willow cut her hair.
First the LET must be challenged. This is a world where women, girls are constantly reminded that they don’t belong to themselves; that their bodies are not their own, nor their power or self determination. I made a promise to endow my little girl with the power to always know that her body, spirit and her mind are HER domain.
Willow cut her hair because her beauty, her value, her worth is not measured by the length of her hair. It’s also a statement that claims that even little girls have the RIGHT to own themselves and should not be a slave to even their mother’s deepest insecurities, hopes and desires. Even little girls should not be a slave to the preconceived ideas of what a culture believes a little girl should be.”
Just a week ago, our oldest daughter called me in Taiwan with a problem — how to let a guy down. She worried that he would take the news badly, would say mean things about her, would make her feel uncomfortable and she felt like “maybe” she should just agree to be his “girlfriend” for a short time even though she had absolutely no interest in this guy. I nearly lost my mind but I counted to 10 instead.
I gave her some advice on what to say, how to say it and where to say it. It isn’t about him. She just isn’t in that place yet — she likes being friends but she isn’t into the boyfriend-girlfriend thing right now. And, that is fine. I also told her no boy, no man has any right to her and she doesn’t have to say “yes” to something just because he asked. And, frankly, one day she may be asking and hearing “no.”
The point is: She decides and she alone. No one should cast their expectations onto her and she should not accept them. She can choose what is and is not right for her. Provided she lives her life within the bounds of decency — without malicious intent to harm others — her decisions are not up for debate, discussion or derision. She doesn’t have to be a role model either. She should be who she is and that person can and should evolve over time as she accumulates experience, knowledge and wisdom.
I applaud Jada. The earlier our daughters understand that they are in control of their minds, bodies and spirits the better. If cutting all your hair off and dying it pink helps you understand that, so be it. You decide what is right for you and you alone.
Learning to be comfortable in your own skin is a hard lesson. Owning your own skin can be even harder. And, there will be plenty of people trying to knock you down along the way . . . don’t let ‘em!
Do Not Board
December 2012
Melbourne, Australia
It is 8:30 a.m. in Chennai, India. It is hot but not unbearable. Arriving at the airport, I am surprised by the changes since my last visit. There seems to be a bit more organization than the last time I was here but still, it is not what we are accustomed to in the States. trust me!
I am fortunate. I am flying in business class, which means I can bypass the long check-in line. I do, however, have to pass through several layers of security to enter the check-in area.
Armed guards are stationed outside the airport. They screen your luggage for the first time before you enter the building. Almost immediately upon entering, they screen it a second time. It is screened a third time after it is checked or, for carry-on luggage, as you pass through the security check-point.
I hand my passport and my visa for Australia to the woman behind the counter. A little boy next to me tells his Daddy, “She is going to Australia too” . . . and we begin to chat. He is very cute and not older than 4. But, after 15 minutes I am wondering what is taking so long and turn my attention to the woman behind the counter.
“Could your name be in the computer a different way?” she asks me. “Um . . . maybe my last name is first. The way it appears in my passport,” I respond. Ten more minutes pass . . . she makes a phone call and security arrives. “Miss, can you please come with us?” It isn’t really a question.
I find myself and my luggage in a very small room with a woman wearing plastic gloves, two security guards with guns and the nice gentleman who invited me to “please come with us.” Oh, boy! When they put my name in the computer, a “warning” popped up telling them not to issue a boarding pass to me. I am on the “Do Not Board list.” What does that mean — is that like “no fly”?
It suddenly seems very warm, and the questions begin:
• Have you ever been denied entry into Australia?
• Ever been denied entry into any country?
• What was the purpose of your visit to India?
• Where did you stay? (Man leaves the room to confirm my stay . . . )
• Where have you been in the last 6 months?
• Have you recently been in Africa, the Middle East, the Caribbean? (What is the connection there, I wonder?)
• Have you been hospitalized?
• When was the last time you visited a doctor?
• Do you have your immunization records with you? (Yes!)
• Are you on any medication? What kind? May we see it?
• Are you traveling alone?
• May we open your luggage? (Again, not really a question.)
This went on for about 20 minutes. My luggage was searched. A word of advice: buy the packing cubes because when security decides they need to rifle through your suitcase, it is nice to have your undies in one spot.
After a lot of discussion, they decide to do what every corporation in America does with a non-performer: Pass them on to someone else. So, I was given a boarding pass to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Once there, I would be their problem. But, my underwear was going all the way to Melbourne. Don’t ask because I don’t know either.
I have traveled a lot and had various odd experiences but this was certainly a first. I decided immediately to just go with the flow. If worse came to worse, I would go back to China — assuming I could get on a plane. It wasn’t the fault of the people interviewing me; they were doing their job. Some other idiot was responsible, or maybe this was just the best practical joke ever played on me.
Uncertain of what might come next, I went to the “lounge” and ordered a vodka. No orange juice just vodka. I could get to Malaysia. If I got stuck there, it wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to me.
Upon arrival in Malaysia, I went directly to the transfer desk. One look at this woman’s face and I knew. “Do Not Board?” I asked. “Yes, Miss.” Security arrived a few minutes later.
Security took me to a room and we went through the same questions again. I have to say everyone was very nice and they were as stupefied as me about why I was on the “Do Not Board” list. My visa was checked and I had all the paperwork (don’t call me over-prepared anymore — you never know!).
Eventually, they gave me a boarding pass to Australia (passing me along) and escorted me to the gate. I arrived in Australia and used my express pass to make my way to the immigration counter. First in line. I was out of the airport in 40 minutes. This is record time in Australia. No issues, no questions, no rooms. I was feeling relieved. Of course, when I arrived at the hotel, my corporate credit card was declined and I was now paying for this trip with my own dime.
Yes, I am living the dream . . . at least I wasn’t strip searched.
The Last Glass . . .
December 2012
Yarra Valley, Australia
Getting to Oz (Australia) was a bit unusual but worth the effort. After Friday’s meetings, I met a friend for dinner in a great little Melbourne neighborhood where she is looking for a house. It was lovely.
Traveling for three weeks straight is difficult. You’re away from your family and, although you spend time with colleagues, the cultural differences
in Taiwan and India make it more difficult to socialize. While my Team is amazing, it is also predominantly male. I think I can count the number of women on one hand. Something I am working on but this also makes it a bit awkward.
Being in Oz, however, allowed me to catch up with a friend who repatriated to Australia from Shanghai months ago. A chance to unwind, catch up on her search for her first home, rediscover her hometown with her and just be.
We ate dinner at Don Vincenzo’s sidewalk restaurant, which reminded me of eating at a favorite spot in our old Chicago neighborhood — Wrigleyville. We sat outside, had a bottle of wine, shared some amazing calamari salad, mushroom bruschetta and margarita pizza. It is summer in Australia and sitting outside immediately unburdens you. Aussies are wonderful people.
The next morning, Sarah saw her “dream house” and then came to pick me up. She really had found “the one.” Nothing makes you forget your own troubles quicker than seeing joy in someone else’s life, particularly when you are genuinely happy for them. The pictures of the place are fantastic. I hope she gets it, so I can crash there soon. We headed to Yarra Valley with reason to celebrate. Not that we needed one, but always nice to have an excuse, a justification, a reason.
The Yarra Valley is truly breathtaking. We visited several vineyards and drove through the Valley just absorbing the beauty. I thought about Jack often — wine tasting and beautiful surroundings are a wine-loving photographer’s dream.
As we stood at the tasting bar, ate our lunch in the vineyard and drove through the valley, I felt the bit of emptiness that I always do when I am away from him. There really is no one else with whom I want to spend my time. A bit of guilt always seeps into these wonderful experiences simply because I so often find myself experiencing them alone, without him.
On this day though, I had Sarah and it was a “girls” day. So, we could buy bread, cheese and figs, and eat them with gluttony. No reason to pretend you don’t want them, or that the cheese isn’t amazingly creamy and the figs sweet and tender. We tore the bread apart, used it to scoop up the creamy, soft cheese and sugared figs. No need for a knife.
When you’re with your girlfriends, you can let your hair down in a way that is different than with others. At least you can if you have truly wonderful and worthy women as friends. While I have few truly close friends, those that I do have are truly amazing women in their own right. These are women with whom I can share my deepest insecurities and my greatest joys and know that they will be empathetic, joyful and, most importantly, non-judgmental.
We had an amazing lunch and a great tour at Chandon and then made our way to a number of other fantastic wineries in the Yarra Valley, including Sticks, Bianchet, De Bortoli and Yering Station to name a few.
When we arrived back in Melbourne, we had our gluttonous meal and, because it was “just us girls” in our PJs, we opened two bottles of wine and called room service for nothing more than a bucket of ice and, of course, some french fries.
We slept late Sunday, very late. We headed to the waterfront in search of breakfast. It was 12:30 p.m. We walked up and down the waterfront restaurant district in search of pancakes, only to be turned away time and again. To our dismay the restaurants were serving lunch, not breakfast. Finally, deciding to pick our spot based on the best view, we sat down for lunch at the Bear Brass. To our absolute surprise and delight, we were able to get breakfast. Ahh . . .
Indulgence being the theme of the weekend, I had lemon curd and rhubarb French toast. Yes, it was mouth-wateringly good. It is a breakfast that I will always remember, and you can bet when I am in Melbourne again I will return to the Bear Brass.
After breakfast, we headed to the market outside the Melbourne Art Center. I cannot tell you what I purchased, but it was a successful shopping trip. You’ll know more after Santa makes his visit.
From there, we walked across the river and back into the city. Melbourne has great lanes or alleys. Graffiti artists decorate the alley ways with amazing artwork that changes frequently. There also are magnificent alley ways with shops and restaurants. Not surprisingly, we stopped for some mid-day champagne and lemon tart.
You can walk almost everywhere in this city. There are intriguing places to visit, unique shops and endless food choices. It is a foodies dream, so I was absolutely in heaven and unrestrained in my expression of gratitude. On weekends, the outdoor markets overflow with abundance. Melbourne is one of the world’s great cities.
While the weather says summer (we are down under), the decorations say Christmas. The city is fully decked out. I do miss Christmas decorations when I’m in China, and the decorations here are so authentically Christmas that it feels as though I’ve stepped back in time.
The large department store here, Myer, has “Christmas windows” that harken to a time gone by. They are so amazing that children are lined up waiting for their turn to see the displays. The wreaths are hung, the garland is draped and silver and red sparkle along the pedestrian shopping area. Even some of the trolleys are dressed for the holiday. I almost expect the train conductor to visit me tonight and take me on the Polar Express.
Australia’s Sydney Harbor Bridge at night . . . my last stop before returning to Shanghai.
But, every escape has its end, so I am having the last glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, the last bite of cheese with fig and crusty bread . . . for tomorrow is Monday and I must return to reality. Lucky for me, I will spend next weekend in Sydney with Sarah before returning home to Shanghai . . . and then there will be just 7 days until our Christmas holiday in Hawaii.
The last glass. On Sunday night.
Here’s to you Sarah for a brilliant weekend. And, of course, to you Jack, for giving me this little gift of extra time away on my own, amidst the longest work “road trip” of the year.
Leadership, Courage & Charisma . . .
December 2012
Melbourne, Australia
They aren’t the same thing. There are people who are able to lead, have courage and be charismatic. But it is not the norm, at least, not in my experience. I also find that charisma is often mistaken for leadership and too often courage is mistaken for anything but leadership, most notably insubordination.
For women, this presents an interesting dilemma. If you are courageous — if you are willing to have the courage of your convictions, to offer the dissenting point of view (rather than simply agree and complain outside the room later), you are often characterized as not being a “team player.” Being charismatic can be a double-edged sword — you might be called a flirt or worse behind your back, or, if your charisma takes the form of more assertive behavior, you are pushy and aggressive.
Recent experience has made me think that the dominant male culture wants “its women” submissive. You can advance in your career if you are “charming” and “submissive” to the opinions of the men around you. In other words, if you (appear to) adopt their convictions, you may be viewed as a leader. And, it helps if you aren’t charismatic enough to outshine them.
Not long ago, Catalyst published a report entitled “Calling All White Men.” Catalyst asked whether training could make a difference in cultures dominated by white men and make them more inclusive? The results are interesting.
The study focused on employees of the global engineering company Rockwell Automation. The study supports Catalyst’s belief in the importance of engaging men as champions of gender diversity. Catalyst concluded that training can produce a measurable shift in workplace attitudes and behavior that can begin to create an environment where women and minorities can advance in management and in leadership.
Key findings of the study include:
• An increase in workplace civility and decline in gossip (e.g., snide remarks and behind-the-back comments). In some workgroups, participants’ colleagues rated the incidence of workplace gossip as much as 39 percent lower after the labs, signaling improved communication and respect.
• Managers were more likely to acknowledge that inequities
exist. After the labs, there was a 17 percent increase in how much managers agreed that white men have greater advantages than women and racial/ethnic minorities.
• Managers improved on five key behaviors for inclusion. From seeking out varied perspectives to becoming more direct in addressing emotionally charged matters, managers improved on critical skills for leading in today’s diverse marketplace.
• Having cross-racial friendships mattered.
Managers without many prior cross-racial relationships changed the most after the labs when it came to thinking critically about different social groups—a 40 percent increase in ratings vs. a 9 percent increase for those with more of these prior relationships.
• Those who cared the least about exhibiting prejudice changed the most. After the labs, managers who initially were the least concerned about appearing prejudiced registered the most significant change in taking personal responsibility for being inclusive, as evidenced by a 15 percent increase in ratings.
In conclusion, Catalyst said:
“Companies can see a major shift in inclusive behavior when white men acknowledge inequalities and accept that while they didn’t cause the problem, it’s their responsibility as leaders to be part of the solution,” said Ilene H. Lang, President & CEO of Catalyst. “We can’t rely only on women and minorities to advocate for culture change. The results are much more powerful when white men, who are most often in leadership positions, are also role models.”
[Source: Catalyst, “Calling All White Men,” July 2012]
I am biased, of course. Because recently, it was suggested, in fairly strong and direct terms, that I need to do more to “rebuild” relationships with certain white male colleagues. I find the choice of the word “rebuild” of particular interest.
First, these relationships did not previously exist. These individuals assumed their current positions after I was assigned to my position in China. Second, all of these men outrank me, which would suggest that the behavior of building a relationship with me should fall more to them — as the leaders. Third, I don’t seem to have relationship issues with my cross-cultural team (as evidenced by objective scores on corporate measuring devices) or with my cross-cultural management in Asia Pacific.
Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me Page 15