“I was 17 when Bill Clinton won the presidency. My entire adult political consciousness has had Hillary Clinton, even more than Bill, in a position of public power in one way or another. It’s been twenty years, and that twenty years for me has been my adulthood, and I have felt not warmly towards her for a lot of those years and then very warmly towards her in other years but the idea that she was going to leave, I did wake up on Friday morning thinking, hey, it’s the end of an era.”
And, let’s hope, the beginning of another. “In the 20 years she’s been on the stage,” writes Tomasky, “the country has gone from wondering whether women could handle the toughest jobs to knowing they can.”
Have We?
Have we really come to know that women can handle the toughest jobs? Have we come to accept it as the norm? And, many are asking “what is the price we pay for handling the toughest jobs?”
In a profile in Marie Claire by Ayelet Waldman (October 2012), Hillary Clinton spoke to at least one part of the problem. “It’s important for our workplaces ... to be more flexible and creative in enabling women to continue to do high-stress jobs while caring for not only children, but [also] aging parents.” I don’t disagree, but that is hardly the biggest problem.
Here, I agree with Sheryl Sandberg. I don’t know whether or not Ms. Clinton would agree or disagree on this point. She did say “one part of the problem,” which suggests the problem is multifaceted. And, it is.
Sandberg’s Lean In openly discusses the problem of women’s internal self talk. Women’s internal self talk holds them back. Their internal self-doubt and conflicts about how they see themselves and how they want to be seen is reinforced by a society that continually characterizes authoritative and successful women as something less than a woman.
Words like “bossy,” “difficult” and worse are ascribed to authoritative women. And, when trying to appear more politically correct, we simply put the word “too” in front of the descriptor: “too aggressive.” A man that is “too aggressive” is described as driven and passionate. A woman is just “too.”
I was thrilled to see Hillary Clinton at the Benghazi hearings displaying every facet of herself: her compassion and empathy, her wit, her intelligence, her anger, her passion and her unwillingness to suffer fools or play games when the consequences of such actions are so very high.
But, we are not all Hillary Clinton or Sheryl Sandberg, are we? And, the consequences for us “normal women” don’t seem to have changed all that much since 1991. If I display all the facets of myself — my compassion, empathy, wit, intelligence, anger, passion, etc. — I am neither admired nor liked.
Soul Searcher
I have been reading, thinking, writing and searching my soul.
• Who am I?
• Who do I want to be?
• What does success look like for me?
• What is success anyway?
• Do I want to be successful?
• If so, why?
• What is important to me?
• What should be important to me?
• What questions should I be asking myself?
I am down to weeks now. Weeks comprised of too few days that go by far too fast; and, then I must get on a plane and leave my family behind. Not forever, but for weeks comprised of days that go by far too slowly.
I return to a place that I cannot fathom any longer. To a place that makes me feel ‘less than’ exactly when I believe I am creating more. And, in doing so, I have been called many things but successful is not one of them. No, I am not Hillary Clinton or Sheryl Sandberg.
Alexandra Chang of Wired (like many working women) is reading Lean In, as am I. I see my own life experiences in the book, as does Chang. Chang writes that to understand her reaction to the book all you need do is look at the “stars” and “exclamation points” in her review copy. [Source: “Why You Should ‘Lean In’ to Sheryl Sandberg’s New Book,” Wired.com, March 11, 2013]
Chang writes: “The first of these appears next to a paragraph where Sandberg details the divergent cultural messages directed at boys versus girls. Girls are often, blatantly, encouraged to be ‘pretty,’ Sandberg explains, while smarts and leadership are left to the boys.”
I call this the smart girl syndrome and reflect on the debates between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. I recall thinking Clinton should hold back and wait to see if Obama knew the answers or even the correct pronunciation of the new Russian leader’s name. She did not wait.
I kept thinking you are smarter than me and, even I know, that if you are seen as a “smarty-pants” no one will like you and you won’t win. She didn’t. Could she now?
Chang continues by highlighting a piece of Sandberg’s book that so many of us can relate to:
“When a girl tries to lead, she is often labeled bossy,” [Sandberg] writes. “Boys are seldom bossy because a boy taking the role of a boss does not surprise or offend.” This small remark had me spinning. . . . as someone who, like Sandberg, has been called bossy her whole life, I was shocked I hadn’t realized this before.”
Chang cites this as Lean In’s “virtue:”
“Sandberg’s ‘sort of feminist manifesto’ . . . is at its best when it shines a light on sexism’s shadowy, more hidden nooks. Another key strength is the advice Sandberg offers, informed by her indisputably remarkable rise through the ranks of politics and business, that you can actually act on.”
It is this subtle, shadowy discrimination that I believe is the most insidious. I also believe that women are reinforcing this discrimination either unwittingly or in an attempt to further their own careers. Yes, I have written about being told to be more charming, to not call attention to my differences, to not make the men uncomfortable. Sadly, this advice has come from women more often than men.
In her book, Sandberg talks about a Columbia Business School study that measured “likability” among men versus women in business. Some students were told about an aggressive, successful venture capitalist named Heidi; others were told the same story except that the venture capitalist’s name was changed to Howard. Even though no other details were changed, students found Howard the more likable of the “two.”
I know this kind of discrimination exists. I know this kind of subtle sexism is continually reinforced in our society, in workplaces both large and small and I know this is happening to me. It is happening and it is making me crazy. Literally. I find myself constantly questioning every decision I have made, re-reading each and every email I have written, replaying every conversation in my mind. And why? Because nobody likes me; I am too ambitious.
In truth, it isn’t that nobody likes me. It is a small group of powerful white men that don’t like me. But, even if it were true, why do I care? Why should I care? My husband likes me. My kids like me. My dog likes me. Well, I thought he liked me but maybe I am wrong about that too.
So, what am I really afraid of: Success? Likability? Or, telling the truth about what is really happening?
What For?
March 2013
Shanghai
At some point don’t we all ask ourselves: What is this for? Why am I doing this? Why am I working so hard? What is the reason for this pain that I am going through?
Do we ever ask ourselves that question when we are in the midst of joy, happiness, or success? No, introspection seems to come only with loss or pain. Is that right? Probably not entirely. I am not in pain 100% of the time, not even 50% really. I am, however, contemplative. What am I contemplating? Honestly, I don’t know anymore.
Well, that is not entirely true. I am contemplating fire. Setting fire to bridges and lighting up the sky with my fury. When I ask myself what is this for? What is the point of this journey that I have been on? Maybe it is bigger than me. Maybe it is time to go all in and put my cards on the table.
Tell my story.
What is my story anyway? It is the story of an ordinary woman who took her children and her husband (and an 80-pound dog) to Chi
na. In the course of that journey, this woman rediscovered pieces of herself that had been buried for decades. And, from that discovery, she learned more about herself and her family than she ever expected. She also discovered what matters to her, truly, deeply matters to her.
It was a discovery not only of her family but of her social conscience. But, discovery is only the first step is self-actualization. It is one thing to know your own beliefs and to hold them close but it is another thing to defend, to promote and to advance those beliefs. It isn’t just leaving work at 5:30 p.m. to spend more time with your family. No, it is so much bigger than that for me. And, it comes from a place deep in my soul, a place I thought had I sealed off years ago.
What for? That is the question that I am asking myself these days? Each experience is for something. What is this experience for? Was it meant to remind me, to awaken me to, to teach me? Was it to kindle the fire that once burned inside me to make a difference? Was it to get me off my ass and take some action?
I think so. Trouble is I have a family and a choice. It is a choice. I can chose to devote myself to the causes and initiatives that mean so much to me but that choice is unlikely to feed my family. That isn’t to say that I can’t find a way. It just means I can’t just chuck it all and start over despite the overwhelming desire to chuck it right out the window. I love my family. They are not holding me back in any way. Indeed, they enable and encourage me.
But, I feel like I am gearing up for a fight. And, the truth is that the fight may very well pit me against friends, mentors, loved ones. It doesn’t make the fight wrong. It doesn’t make them or me “bad.” Rather, it sparks the very debate that we are lacking in our world today. And, it gives voice to the voiceless.
Courage. Conviction. Commitment. Do I have it? I don’t know yet but the clock is ticking . . .
Raise Your Hand!
March 2013
Nanjing, China
Today, I traveled to Nanjing, China to speak to a group of women working at the Salt Mine. On my way there, I was reading Lean In feeling very much like an impostor. After all, I no longer have a “leadership” job in China. Frankly, I have no clue what job I have these days aside from Tour Guide Barbie.
I fell asleep — thankfully. I hardly sleep it seems and the 45 minutes that I did sleep on the train really made all the difference.
I realized — while sleeping, where all my best thinking is done — that I don’t have to have some title to be a leader. I don’t even have to have a job. That notion is invented. I don’t have to believe it. It does not have to be part of my reality. Hell, at this very moment the most powerful woman in the world is unemployed. Her name: Hillary Clinton.
I just am who I am. Who is that? Well, that is a bit more complicated than just a single blog, which is why I have posted more than 90 of these things. But, I think the ‘what for’ occurred to me today on the train — what has all of this been for; why am I here; who am I and what do I care about? What has this journey been about, what has it been for?
It’s about the same things that I’ve always cared about — fairness and equality. Whether that was the size of my allowance or the size of my paycheck. (Ask my Dad!)
Last night, I could not sleep and I was watching the coverage of the Steubenville, Ohio rape trial verdict. To say that it made me ill would be an incredible understatement. I’ve alluded to some experience in this area in other blogs and there is no real point in telling the details of that long ago story. Except to say that it has shaped every moment of my life since it occurred, whether I knew it or not.
Violence against women is the root, the core, the source of inequality. Gloria Steinem said you can’t have a real Democracy if you don’t first have democracy in the home. What she was saying is that if women aren’t equal in their relationships with their mates, how can they expect to be equal in the workplace? Worse, until only a couple of decades ago, spousal abuse had no name other than marriage. Domestic violence is a fairly new term in the American lexicon. Giving it a name was a huge step forward in women’s rights and most people have no idea or, at least, no idea why it is so important.
Americans think we are enlightened. We watch Syria and India on the news and find the rapes of these women repulsive. We condemn the marriage of young girls, trafficking of women and girls, and we make speeches and promises and then, in our own backyard, we condemn the young woman raped by “promising young students” who had “promising football careers.” Hey, I like football as much as the next Notre Dame graduate but seriously?
What does this have to do with my trip to Nanjing? Everything. This is China. You are allowed one child. Your thoughts, dreams and ambitions are to a large extent controlled and limited by the government, your station in life, your history and location of birth. Your ability to move, to better yourself, to think, to grow and become what you want to become is limited by strict protocols and rules.
Certainly, it is less limited now than it was in prior decades. But, make no mistake, we are still talking about a country where government officials forced a woman to abort her baby at seven months because she already had one child and she could not afford to pay the fine. The most fundamental of human rights — to create life — is controlled in China in a way far beyond Roe vs. Wade. And, yet, the women I see at work are remarkable.
Their concerns are no different from yours or mine. They want to raise their child to be strong and productive but worry that their child is spoiled by grandparents who have only one grandchild.
They worry about proper socialization. Will their child be able to survive in a world where they will first encounter other “children” as “adults?” The pressure on these women to give up their careers and stay home is significant. Their ability to cope with the stress associated with raising only one child upon whom an entire generation’s hope rests and “balance” a career is marginal at best.
Doctors in China tell women to cut their hair because long hair steals nutrients from the baby. They are told not to have sex for the duration of the pregnancy and then even beyond. They are afraid of everything because they have no experience, no frame of reference, nothing to help reassure them. And, yet, despite all of this they want to work. They want to raise a child who can face the world, negotiate society and be productive. They believe in themselves but support from parents, spouses and even co-workers is lacking.
“How did you do it?” It’s a question I am often asked. Today, I told this group that I did it with a great deal of help. First, my mother and my mother-in-law. My youngest sister. My husband. I did it by owning who I am and knowing that I like and want to work and that Jack is a better parent than me. I am not a bad parent but I am a better parent when I work.
And, yes, until Jack and I made the decision for him to stay home, it was expensive. But, I decided not to consider the cost of childcare, good childcare, a burden. I decided it was an investment — in our children and in me. I wanted to work and it required an investment in myself. So, we both kept working until we decided that my traveling internationally was becoming an issue that even the best childcare could not solve. We needed — I needed — Jack.
I was also asked “What would you tell a new leader?” Simple, really.
“I would tell a new leader the same thing I tell my 10-year-old daughter. Raise your hand.” They looked at me and I explained. From the day you are born you have the potential to lead. The question is do you have the courage? And, if so, then do you have the desire? Don’t sit in the back of the room. Don’t wait to be noticed. Raise your hand and offer a point of view. Take a position, right or wrong — decide. Start from your first moment. Leadership is making music and the best music is made by musicians who constantly practice, make mistakes, and practice more. Observe, listen without judging, and practice.
We need these women in China, India, Syria, Cambodia and so many other places to raise their hands and offer their point of view. Ask their questions. We need them more than ever because it seems wo
men in America and even Europe have stalled.
We have fallen down in our quest for equality. Why? Because we want to be liked? Because it is too hard? Don’t quit because it is too hard. Quit because the work is no longer compelling or fails to align with your core values and principles as a human being but not because it is too hard or you think you aren’t good enough. Don’t listen to that voice in your head that keeps telling you that you are less than. You are more, so much more.
Subtle, shadowy sexism. I think those are the words Sheryl Sandberg used to describe the way we often evaluate women in the workplace. It is also the way we evaluate women and their value in the world. Ask yourself why, in America, we still focus the blame on the raped and lament the lost promise of the rapist. The fundamentals have not changed. Not yet.
What Questions Should You Be Asking Yourself?
March 2013
Shanghai
It has taken many years and yes, a lot of expensive therapy, to realize that the question I should be asking myself at all times is what will make me happy, not what will make me successful. ‘Success’ is a trap. It’s what we believe will make our peers respect and even envy us. But that definition can be changing and elusive, and most of all, unrelated to happiness.
Excerpted from “The Truth About Super Women,” Melissa Francis, published on huffingtonpost.com, March 25, 2013
Is that the right question? I wonder. Maybe it is the right question for Ms. Francis but does that make it the right question for you or me or anyone else?
And, what is wrong with success? I don’t understand the notion that women who are “successful” can’t also be happy. Who made that rule? And when did the pursuit of success or, said differently, the pursuit of excellence, become a “trap”?
I wonder why women are so upset with Sheryl Sandberg. What did she do that is so terrible? Did she suggest ways in which women might help themselves? Did she cast a light under the bushel of gender bias that so many of us experience in silence throughout our careers? Did she admit that it is a constant struggle even for a woman who has an incredible support system? Yes, she did. And, again, why is any of that so terrible?
Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me Page 23