Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me

by J. T. Gilhool

  “Unfortunately, in the stumble that has become women talking about powerful women, you only get to the reasonable part of the conversation after you go through every possible iteration of figuring out how terrible all the powerful women are,” wrote the Atlantic Wire’s Rebecca Greenfield in “What Your Reaction to Female Executives Says About You,” March 1, 2013. (Some more interesting reading: “Maybe You Should Read the Book: The Sheryl Sandberg Backlash,” The New Yorker, post by Anna Holmes, March 4, 2013.)

  Is that really the problem? Are we comparing ourselves now to Sheryl Sandberg and finding that we come up short? It was suggested to me by someone I consider to be wise where I am blind that a more helpful distinction is “me vs. my peers” rather than “success vs. happiness.” Indeed.

  Isn’t that the point, really? Frankly, isn’t that Sheryl Sandberg’s point? Maybe you don’t like her method — Lean In — maybe that’s just not your style but don’t let that cloud the message. Could she have written more about the role her husband plays in making her work-life balance work? Maybe. But, isn’t the point to think. And, think for yourself. Pick and choose what works or resonates with you and leave the rest on the table for others.

  My friend commented that “whether we use happiness or success as the measure, I think it is more helpful to ensure it’s our own assessment, and not the assessment of others. If we try ourselves in the court of public opinion, we give away our power of choice.” Exactly.

  Look, I am writing this after midnight because I can’t sleep. Melissa Francis would point to her blog and say that this is one of the problems with trying to be a super woman. Maybe. Or maybe, I just have insomnia. I suspect that if I had no job at all, I would not be able to sleep. I would find some reason to be up at night pacing the floor. It’s me.

  The truth is that I am not trying to be Wonder Woman. I am, however, trying to be happy, which for me includes a dynamic, challenging career. It is part of what makes me tick. When I had my third child, my oldest daughter was 6 and she could not wait for me to go back to work. Happiness, for her, was a working Mom because a working Mom was a happier Mom. I don’t aspire to be Sheryl Sandberg necessarily. I aspire to do the best with what I have; I believe I have something to offer and I want to share it.

  I am choosing to have a career and a family. I have a husband who chose to take the harder job and stay at home so that I can pursue my career interests and be a Mother. Open and honest communication over a number of years made this possible and ended the “constant fighting” or the “constructive friction” that enabled us to make a decision together that we both could embrace and was in the best interest of our marriage and our children. This is not what works for other women and men. It is what works for me and my partner.

  “Probably my worst quality is that I get very passionate about what I think is right.”

  ~ Hillary Clinton

  This is not to say that I am not frustrated by what I perceive to be inequality in the workplace. I am. I am also outspoken about that perception, which has career consequences. Much like Sandberg, I choose to speak up and I am prepared to take the backlash. I may not like it. Who likes being called ugly names? But, I choose to do it because it is something I believe in and it matters to me. While it makes me sad at times, it also makes me happy. I just need to choose to focus more on the moments that make me happy than those that make me sad.

  I have made a difference for other women where I work. I know this because they have told me and because I have seen them take advantage of opportunities where they otherwise would have sat quietly in the corner waiting for someone to notice them. I am thrilled by their growth and their success. I view it as a collective success.

  “Leave the door open and the ladder down!” In other words, help your fellow woman. Or risk the fires of hell, as Madeleine Albright forewarned. [Source: “Leave the Door Open and the Ladder Down,” Stacey Gordon, Forbes contributor, March 18, 2013.]

  I am flabbergasted by women who refuse to engage in a meaningful discussion about gender issues. I am even more perplexed by the complacency of the few women who have made it up the ladder.

  I applaud Sheryl Sandberg for sharing her story. She is propping open the door and offering you a hand as you climb the rungs. She is not, as far as I can tell, admonishing you if you choose to jump to another section of the jungle gym and climb that for a bit, even if that climb is lateral or down. The point is choice. You can choose not to take the hand.

  Choosing to climb or not is yours and it should not matter what anyone else thinks about your choice. What does matter is that if you make the choice to climb, you deserve to be treated equitably. I think it helps if you have a bit of inside information on what works and what doesn’t – at least until we have a level playing field. Personally, I am grateful to know that I am not going crazy and that someone like Sheryl Sandberg thinks the same things I think, including the nagging self-doubt that constantly derails me. It is communal — better to be crazy in a group than alone, I say.

  I am a feminist. I am a mother. I am a wife. I am a triathlete (well, I try). I am a lover. I am a complex human being just like you. And, finding happiness can be a struggle. No one single thing makes me happy. Sorry Virginia, there is no secret to happiness.

  My career is now among the things that contribute to my level of happiness but it no longer defines it for me. That did take some therapy and honest conversation and soul searching, but it doesn’t mean that success and happiness are incompatible. It only means that my definition of me was a bit out of whack. Perspective was needed, sought and found. Nothing is easy. Even choosing to do nothing is not easy. And doing nothing does have consequences.

  Recently, Nike came out with a new advertisement for Tiger Woods — “Winning takes care of everything.” Maybe it does for Tiger Woods. Maybe winning is his definition of happiness and success. Maybe winning, for Tiger, is a like a salve and all his troubles fall away when he wins. I have no idea. I am not Tiger Woods. But, this advertisement sparked a backlash of its own. And, I was actually surprised.

  “Nike is causing a social media storm with its latest online ad showing a picture of Tiger Woods overlaid with a quote from him, “Winning takes care of everything.”

  The ad, posted on Facebook and Twitter, is supposed to allude to the fact that the golfer recovered from career stumbles to regain his world No. 1 ranking on Monday, which he lost in October 2010. But some say it’s inappropriate in light of Woods’ past marital woes. It’s the latest controversy from the athletic giant who has recently had to cut ties with biker Lance Armstrong and runner Oscar Pistorius due to separate scandals.

  Woods has long used the phrase — at least since 2009 — whenever reporters ask him about his or other golfers’ rankings.”

  [Source: “ ‘Winning Takes Care Of Everything’: Tiger Woods Ad Under Fire,” Mae Anderson, Associated Press, published on huffingtonpost.com, March 26, 2013.]

  I just don’t care about Tiger Woods marital problems or dating status or even if he wins. If it works for him, great. Winning does not take care of everything for me. Even if I did “win,” and I am not sure what that would even look like in my current circumstance, it would not “take care of everything.” It would be nice but it isn’t everything to me.

  A good hair day, a wrap dress and great pair of stilettos coming together on the same day that I am making a speech on an issue that I care passionately about and then coming home to my husband and children for pancakes for dinner is “winning” and “winning big” for me. It would be nirvana. But, I’d take the good hair day too. Hillary Clinton likely requires a bit more — world peace, maybe. But I am not Hillary Clinton; I am me.

  The Semantics of Equality

  April 2013

  Shanghai

  Irene Dorner, CEO of HSBC USA, says women of her generation should have done more to help women coming behind them, and she is right.

  You already know that I believe Madeleine Albright when she says “There
is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.” No, Irene Dorner should not go to hell. Why? Because the next generation has the same responsibility and that includes reaching forward and not just back.

  I actually read Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg, unlike many who have criticized her and stopped at the cover because they preferred to talk about the “sticky floor.” This debate over what lean in means vs. the realities of the sticky floor are not helpful to me. And, frankly, I just don’t care what label you place on the problem. The semantics of equality are holding us back.

  I’m a lawyer. Words matter and I have spent days and weeks arguing over the placement of a comma let alone word choice. But, here and now, on this topic in 2013, I no longer care what you call it. Because my reality is that I am the sole breadwinner for our family of five. My husband is a full-time father — the harder job, if you ask me.

  We made that choice together and it empowers me to do what I do and it empowers him as well. But, the fact is that by making that choice, we may have cut our income by 33% because I may only earn 77 cents for every $1 my male counterparts earn.

  What does that mean? It means our children have less opportunities, I will have to work longer to close the gap before I can retire and it means I am growing more bitter and resentful by the minute, which is unhelpful to all of us. So, does it matter if a woman finds herself “behind” because she did not have the confidence to lean in early enough, long enough or hard enough or because the forces conspired against her creating a sticky floor? No. The root of the issue is extraordinarily complex and simple at the same time.

  Do women lack confidence to lean in and are they, therefore, stuck to the floor? Yes. It starts early in our lives.

  Every woman (and man) has a story. I have mine. It isn’t a story most people know and I’ve only recently begun to talk more honestly about it. I suspect I am doing that because I am now angry enough not to care how others judge me.

  Like Irene Dorner, I know other women of power who failed to do more to help the next generation of women. It broke my heart to be told by a senior female executive that I needed to be more charming or risk being labeled a bitch. I’d been hearing this from my human resources rep — also a woman — for some time, so I knew it would eventually be said by others but when it happened, I came unglued.

  “I’ve always felt that satisfaction with the status quo has always been a recipe for disaster. In today’s world, it’s like raising the white flag of surrender.”

  ~ Ursula Burns

  CEO of Xerox

  Irene Dorner told the New York Times recently that she wishes she’d worked harder to change the “status quo” while breaking through glass ceilings on Wall Street.

  ‘The women at the top of organizations that I know will tell you that we think that we’ve made it because we were born the way we are and can play by these rules without feeling damaged by them,’ Ms. Dorner said. ‘Or, we’ve learned how to play by these rules and use them to our own advantage. I suspect that we were simply not very good role models,’ she added. ‘And there aren’t enough of us to be visible so that people can work out how to do what we did.’

  Like Sandberg, Dorner too thinks women hold themselves back. But she also urges the next generation of women infiltrating the executive suites to do more. She told the Times:

  “I only realized what was happening when I was 50, because there I was, making my way in the unconscious rules. . . I really do think the next push has got to come from the senior middle-management women who must stand up and be counted on this earlier than I did.”

  [Source: “Woman in a Man’s World,” Andrew Ross Sorkin, New York Times Financial Blog, DealBook, April 2, 2013]

  My mentor’s parting words of advice, after seven years of dedicated service to her, were that I should expect to be the only woman in the room and to blend in — “don’t highlight your differences” meaning everything from being a lawyer (most of the men are engineers) to wearing too much bling (aka my wedding ring). The goal was to avoid making the men uncomfortable. She was serious. I was at risk of being labeled a bitch.

  “You show people what you’re willing to fight for when you fight your friends.”

  ~ Hillary Clinton

  I was crushed. Most of my career I have been uncomfortable. Uncomfortable trying to play a game that I know I cannot win. Uncomfortable sitting through performance review after performance review being told that no one gets the work done like I do. “The difficult she handles in a minute; the impossible takes a few minutes longer” was a favorite phrase of one of my mentors — an African American man — and, yet, being passed over for promotion because I was “too aggressive” or “too” something. Another favorite: I need to learn to “let others catch up.” Really? WTF?!

  I was unglued, literally. I had leaned in, asked for and taken an assignment in China. After 2 years of incredibly long hours, a grueling travel schedule and little support from the “home team” in the States, I accomplished the goal of building from scratch an organization, laying the foundation for process discipline, growing the local national talent and empowering the team to make decisions because I would support them and, if necessary, take the heat if things went wrong. My role made me responsible for all of our organization’s deliverables across all of Asia Pacific and Africa.

  There was no specific team when I arrived. I built it by negotiating the transfer of heads and budgets from other organizations within the Salt Mine. The men leading those organizations were reasonable and happy to have the help. They were even more eager to give me the responsibility and accountability of assuring product certification.

  In fairness, Asia Pacific and Africa is a small operational team compared to the North American and European operations. It certainly is far less political or territorial than North America or Europe. Working together is all that matters. Nothing gets done if each one of us doesn’t pull our share and then some. Help, in all forms, is welcome.

  I was the lowest ranking member of the Asia Pacific and Africa Operating Committee by two grade levels. A middle manager reporting out every week to the CEO of Asia Pacific and Africa of a major multi-national corporation. One of three women in the room but not a direct report to the CEO, though I did report directly to two Company Officers. One located in the States, who reported directly to the Salt Mine CEO, and the other in China who reported directly to the Asia Pacific and Africa CEO.

  Only one of the women at this table was at the “executive” grade level. Not surprisingly, she led human resources. (When the second woman left the Salt Mine for health reasons, she was replaced with an executive level woman, who coincidentally had worked directly for the Salt Mine CEO for several years.) Despite my status or lack of status, I was the “executive sponsor” of our “women’s organization.” This only reinforced my feelings of being an impostor. And, I hated being “dressed up” as something I was not, most notably an executive.

  Still, despite all the accomplishments and leadership, I am being called back to the States because I can’t get along with the predominantly white male leadership in the States. The entire leadership team is male. Even the person replacing me is male. There are no women at executive grade level in my current organization and there are none in the grade level just beneath it either. You must go two levels deeper to find a woman. And you won’t find many women there either.

  Saying that I have poor relationships is simply another way of saying that I am “difficult,” “too aggressive” and “lack charm.” I took the news like a man, so to speak, and held my ground. But I signed my performance review like a lawyer, adding my dissenting opinion. Then, I left the building and found my husband and wept.

  I blamed a woman who, like Irene Dorner, failed to do enough to change the perception of women in the boardrooms of America. Who, in my view, hurt us by pretending to be just like the men and denying their very womanhood. The single most important thing about them, the one thing they offer that the men cannot
offer, is their experience as women. And, it is a powerful experience. Why did they deny it?

  After some careful reflection and therapy, I no longer blame women like Irene Dorner, who climbed the ladder and didn’t look back. Their accomplishments are inspiring. They had no rulebook or map. They climbed the ladder using their skills and the methods available to them. But, before they all retire and leave a gap in female power in these halls of commerce, they owe it to themselves and us to challenge the gender bias that keeps us “stuck to the floor” even when we do “lean in.”

  Gender bias is real and it makes you doubt everything you are, everything you have accomplished, everything you believe. It makes you wonder if it is “all in your head” or if you have a warped perspective of who you are, what you stand for and how you lead. This gives rise to tremendous self-doubt. At best, you find yourself stuck to the floor and, at worst, you give up entirely and find yourself broken and, if someone loves you enough, in therapy.

  I don’t care what you call it. The debate is healthy. But, whatever you call it, I’ve gone all in. I’ve put gender on the table where I work and readied myself for the storm. In the end, I know the truth. I am kind, I am smart and I am important. I just might not be popular.

  Global Identification Number

  March 2013

  Shanghai

  So, the time has come. Finally, time to go home. After protracted negotiations with the Salt Mine, the children and Jack will remain in China to complete the school year. I will return to the States “no later than April 1st.” Uh, no.

  First, April 1st just doesn’t work for me. Second, who made you the boss of me? Third, uh, no.