"See beyond the woman"

Some sensible thoughts on women in the workplace by Sandra Dawson, Nonexecutive Director of Barclays Bank and Master of Sidney Sussex College, Univ of Cambridge.

 

 

When you are the only woman in any situation, I think it is often quite difficult for men to get beyond the idea that “this is the woman speaking.” In most boards, gender is the most obvious difference, since there is often little diversity in culture or education. So it can be a challenge to “see beyond the woman.” Maybe when you get two or three, it encourages a different perspective, which prompts the thought, “Oh—women do not necessarily think alike.” And that is the breakthrough in any prejudicial situation: to see the person and not the category or stereotype.

…There is still some institutionalized prejudice, which is extremely difficult for women—or men—to tackle, as it can be deeply ingrained. However, it is no longer dominant in many organizations. Most people at the top of companies really want to enable more of their very able young women to succeed and get to the top. So it is not that they do not want to encourage women; it is not even that they do not want to encourage them at a subconscious level. It is that they do not recognize the micro-inequalities of which you speak, so all of us, men and women, need to be alert to these subtle forces and work to eradicate them.

Read full interview in McKinsey Quarterly (free subscription may be required):

http://www.mckinseyquarterly.com/Organization/Talent/Seeing_beyond_the_woman_An_interview_with_a_pioneering_academic_and_board_member_2194_abstract

 

Monkeys of the human kind

I was at Hampi last weekend and I noticed an odd phenomenon for a tourist spot in India – bands (12-15 strong) of young men perhaps in early 20s roaming around being rowdy and obnoxious, especially towards women. Now if you’ve been in India, you’ll know that this is a common sight on Indian road-sides. But this was my first sighting of this at a tourist spot.

So you can imagine my first reaction to sighting packs of these, umm…, men.

On our third day at Hampi, we decided to go to the ruins but do our own thing. Out of our group of 5, two decided to climb a hill, two decided to go birding and I decided to go spend some time at an amazing spot next to the river.



It is a rocky spot with giant boulders strewn every which way, giving the spot a feeling of being an animation rather than real-life. The river which is dammed further up, flows down some of these rocks, with the flow controlled by flood gates at the dam. The previous day we had watched salmon trying to jump upstream over a one meter water fall. And, to make it even better, there is a one meter high rock sitting all alone on a flattish rocky surface. All in all a perfect spot for spending an hour daydreaming at 8 in the morning.

My plan was to go sit on the rock for some time and after a while go stand in the river with water up to my ankles.

When I got to my rock, as I’d come to think of it by now J, I noticed a pack of 15+ of these men about 20 feet downstream, generally enjoying themselves in the water. I figured if they want to run around in their underwear at a public place that is their problem not mine. I decided to perch myself on the rock and admire the rocks on the upstream side. After staring at me for varying amounts of time, these men decided to go back to playing in the water, which was just fine with me. This is roughly what I had hoped/expected.

Such packs of men, in the words of Douglas Adams in the “Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy”, are “mostly harmless”. Though you have to keep repeating that to yourself if you find yourself alone with over a dozen of them.

Hardly 5 minutes after the first group had left, a smaller set of 5-6 descended near the rock. They also found the sight of a woman sitting peacefully a few meters away too hard to ignore, but again they lost interest after a few minutes and decided to catch some fish with their bare hands from the river and transfer them to a tiny shallow pool formed at the side of the river.

I descended to the flat rocks and stood for some time with my feet in the water. It was quite fun as the officials at the dam upstream were varying the flow of water. The water level at my feet would change from 2-3 inches to about 8-10 inches within a matter of minutes, and then go down again.

All was well. The fish-transporting operation had stopped. The men had decided to show off their bravery by crossing the river which has a bed of flattish slippery boulders.

I returned to my rock for a final round of day-dreaming before heading back. That is when the final group of another half-dozen men arrived. One of them just could not stand the fact that a woman was sitting on a boulder minding her own business. First he walked around the boulder once about 18 inches away from the edge. Then he came back and stood leaning against the boulder three feet away. Then he decided that was too far and inched to within a foot and a half and stood looking away towards the river. I continued to ignore him.

Then he turned around slowly and started addressing me. First something in Kannada. Then I caught “Hello”. “Sister”. Then something else I don’t remember. Full sentences in Kannada were coming my way. I didn’t utter a word or change my expression but was rapidly thinking whether I could reach my hiking boots quickly enough and hit him on the head which was at my knee level in one smooth move. More wishful thinking than anything else J, but it never hurts to have a backup plan in case things get worse. I also looked around to see if there was any civilized person in sight who may give me a hand if needed. Just when I had mentally perfected my move, the guy decided he’d had enough and moved to watch the hoopla around the few fish in the puddle.

By now it was time to go back and I was sick of these…men. And the two more rowdies I encountered on the steps back would surely have gotten one in the ribs if they had come any closer.

The whole episode had one positive side-effect: it increased my resolve to go work out at the gym more frequently than the 2-3 days a week I’ve been doing. Aah, but like all good-intentioned resolves, it disintegrated once I got back into the daily rhythm of work in Bangalore.

But the time I spent enjoying the view at the banks of the Tungabhadra river with water running over my feet will remain with me for a long time.


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I am not a lady

An open letter

Dear colleague,

I want to make it clear for the second time that I am a woman. I am a female member of the human species. I am NOT a “lady”.

Today was the umpteenth time I saw you use the word “ladies” to refer to your female colleagues. I felt like hitting you on the head but since that might disqualify me from actually being a lady in the 1920s sense of the word, I stopped myself.

Instead, I decided to be helpful. For your reference, here is a guide on the correct usage of the word lady. You may use the word when referring to:

1. Members of English aristocracy
2. Women over 70
3. Women who are doing something crazy, as in “Lady, are you nuts?”
4. As a reprimand, usually preceded by the word “young”: “Young lady, how many times have I told you not to hit your male colleagues?”

I assume you thought it would be more “respectful” in some old-fashioned way to refer to women as “ladies”. But by using this word in a clearly artificial manner, you actually made it quite clear that you don’t quite know how to deal with women colleagues as equals. Why else would you say things like:

• Each team should have 11 players with a minimum of 2 ladies and max of 9 gents
• Opening batting pair should have at least 1 lady
• First over must be bowled by a lady and faced by a lady
• And so on
  

Or perhaps I have misunderstood the whole thing. Maybe this is a costume party cum cricket match. I wonder whether any Bangalore theatre groups carry Victorian-era gowns.

Here’s a thought: If you think calling a woman a woman is too matter-of-fact, maybe you can call us the “XX chromosomed” humans. At least it will be accurate. Then your invitation for cricket would read something like this:

• Each team should have players with a total of 13 X and 9 Y chromosomes
• Opening batting pair must be exclusively X chromosomed
• No Y chromosomes allowed in first over bowling and batting
• Etc.

Yours sincerely,
A woman

Corporate gifts, served Panchtantra style

In response to my previous post, one reader asked: “Okay, so fake leather isn’t right for women, nor the polo shirts for guys – but what would be the right present?”

I think USB sticks make great gifts these days as everybody keeps losing them. They should have just picked a more unisex style instead of one that was permanently embedded in Terminator style leather. Business card holders are useful – everyone needs them anyway; but again a unisex design is important. And if you are thoughtful enough to get something with elegant ‘green’ packaging you get extra bonus points.

These discussions about appropriateness of gifts have reminded me of a Panchtantra story I had read as a kid. It is a common story that most Indians have learned in school (at least, people my age).

There are two friends – a crow and a crane. One day the crane invites the crow for dinner at his home. He serves a delicious porridge in a ‘surahi’, a narrow necked earthen pot. While the crane thoroughly enjoys the meal, the crow’s short beak can’t reach the porridge in the pot. He is forced to eat the crumbs spilled by the crane.

The crow doesn’t say anything but in turn invites the crane for dinner. And he serves the meal in a flat ‘thali’. Of course, this time the crane doesn't get much to eat and he soon realizes his mistake.

So taking a cue from the Panchtantra tale: Next time I’m in-charge of corporate gifts, maybe I’ll distribute silk blouses with embroidered company logo to all. :)

Corporate Gifts

I’ve been thinking: How come so much of what I observe and write about is related to my experience as a woman, rather than as a human being. Surprisingly, this wasn’t a topic that was even remotely top of mind for me while I was in the US. It seems to me that living in India, you get rubbed the wrong way at least once (if you are lucky) or more, every-single-day. And after 3.5 years of this, I’ve just had enough. With that preamble, let’s pick a non-India example for a change :).

On Friday, I gave a talk to a bunch of 20 students and 2 profs from an MBA school in the US. Any B-school class studying emerging markets end up studying India, and ends up visiting us as one of the interesting companies to profile. So, inevitably, we end up hosting quite a few such student groups. So, back to the presentation on Friday...

I spent over an hour talking to the students about the company, India, its economy, etc. At the end of it, one of the students got up and, on behalf of the class, presented a gift. This practice of giving a gift is rare and not followed by all visiting groups because of restrictions on corporate gifts, especially the value of it, which they keep below $25-50. In any case, upon opening it I found a USB stick keychain and a money clip. Both of these are made in a bulky style, of heavy leather with bold stitching in a very male style to say the least. It’s something that Arnold Shwarzenegger would have carried as the Terminator (in the first of the movie trilogy), if he’d wanted to seem stylish. Believe me, I don’t mind leather, but no woman would carry anything of this style by choice.

So, why is a business school, in the year 2008, assuming that this is an appropriate gift for a woman? If in their defense they say, well, we didn’t know that we’d be giving this to a woman – well then, why are they assuming that there won’t encounter any women presenters? Sure, the number of senior women in business is low, but it is not zero!

Thoughtlessness is very off-putting.

The same goes for all kinds of corporate gifts and paraphernalia: it is all designed for men. Two years ago, I was responsible for organizing an annual meeting for roughly 100 senior leaders of the company. It had been customary for my department to give out polo-shirts for all participants. I had received one such shirt the previous year. As with all corporate-wear, this stuff is designed for men; I have never seen a woman wear a company-logo shirt in this company or previous ones. Since no other alternative was available, I decided against giving out any shirts. When an attendee inquired about the missing polo-shirts, I told him that when the company starts stocking shirts appropriate for women also, I’d be glad to give them out. :)

“Go left, left, left, left”

So far I’ve been driving in India on the basis on of international driving license. I had decided to get an Indian license and a few months ago I just about managed to obtain a learning permit. That is an entertaining story in itself – but for another time.

So my status as of a couple of weeks ago was that I had an Indian “Learning License”. I had gone through a driving school to obtain this. The school was charging me money just for the process without doing any training. Given the large number of people with international licenses who’ve landed up in Bangalore, the schools have recognized a good opportunity and even have standard rate cards for this service.

As the learning license was nearing the end of its validity, I decided that I cannot procrastinate any further and must face the bureaucracy to get a proper Driving License.

My previous experience with the Regional Transport Office, the agency that grants these licenses had been rather stressful to say the least. So, with much trepidation and reluctance, I called up Manjunath at the same driving school that helped me get the learning license. He asked me to deliver the Learning License and a photo to his office, and tells me to show up at 9am on Saturday at the RTO.

Suffering from the punctuality disease, I show up exactly at 9:00am on the dot at the RTO office on 2nd floor, having parked my car outside. Upon arrival, I called Manjunath who informed me that he would be there in “10 minutes”. Tired of waiting after 20 minutes, I had decided to sit in one of the 25 bright red chairs arranged (or rather, bolted) in 5 neat rows in front of the inner office. Some guy who seemed he was an official asked me “DL or LL?”

It took me a moment to realize what the initials stood for and I blurted out “LL”. Quickly realizing my mistake I said “DL. DL!” He waved his hand -- Swallowing my pride, I looked hopelessly at him, trying to decipher the meaning of the hand-wave. He made me get up from the seat: the seats were for men only. No I am not kidding! The seats represented the men’s line. The women’s line had no seats – standing only.

Another 20 minutes later I spotted Habib from my driving school. More hand-waving occurred, which I interpreted to mean “Wait”. A few minutes later, I had signed some forms and was standing in a line.
Soon I found myself in the office of the same official who had uprooted me from the men’s chairs reviewed my forms, gave them back to me with a stamp and again waved me away!

Determined to not be hand-waved away this time, I asked him in Hindi where I am supposed to go next. He impatiently muttered something and pointed me to the door. Oh well, so much for my pride…

Outside I found a bunch of men and women carrying forms with the same yellow sleeve which identified them as customers of the same driving school as mine. So I decided to wait near them. When Manjunath approached, defying hand-waving norms, I deliberately voiced my question: “what’s happening? Where is the test going to happen”. He told me to go wait downstairs near the road. 15 minutes later he shows up again. On asking, I was told to drive my car to the Post Office road for the test.

I followed the directions and ended up at a street where some 15 men were waiting. I was the only woman there. After 15 minutes,, like a flock of birds taking off together, they all start walking in one direction. I followed them. It turned out we were standing at slightly wrong corner. I re-park and wait again.

Finally I spot both Manjunath and Habib. I run over and demand that they tell me properly what is going to happen. Don’t just tell me to wait or the next micro-step in the process. Who is going to show up? When/where is the test going to take place. Etc. For the first time I get two complete sentences in response . Somewhat mollified, I wait for the next step.

Like Moses parting the red sea, a group of cars bringing the Test Takers (don’t know what else to call them) cut through the throng of waiting legal-drivers-to-be. I wait.

Manjunath asks me to drive to a certain point where the Test Taker is standing on the side of the road. He takes my papers. Tells me to go make a round and come back. I was expecting him to get into the car so I hesitate. He repeats in English: “Go left, left, left, left. Come back.”

I smile to myself and take off, obediently making left, left, left, left and returning to the spot in question.

Before I can even come to a full stop near him, the Test Taker shouts, waving his hands “Go! Go home!”, at which I promptly take off.

Ah, but the story didn’t end. When I called up the driving school to pick up the license, they say I haven’t taken a photograph. He accuses me of running off after the previous weekend’s test instead of going for a photograph. I exclaim that despite my repeatedly asking them, they had told me nothing about going back for a photograph; Habib had told me to go home after the test. He muttered something about a “card license”. Exasperated, I went back the following weekend, got the photograph done. Putting two-and-two together, I figured out that the “card” license which fits in a wallet has a computerized production process, and therefore, they needed a digital photo instead of the print photo submitted during my previous visit.

Oh well, now I’m keeping my fingers crossed – I’ve gotten the driver’s license but the birthdate is wrong. I don’t think I have it in me to get it corrected. I’ll simply be a day older in anything requiring a driving license proof.

Do you have CEO-ready hair?

This Saturday’s Mint newspaper had a feature on women’s dressing. Looking at the pictures of the women CEOs/leaders featured, you would notice one other stark fact – the length and style of their hair, which Siva calls the Indra Nooyi hair style.

So I decided to check what % of top women have this hairstyle. You’d be quite surprised. For this calculation, I took the 50 Most Powerful Women list published by Fortune Magazine. I rated their hair length as very short, shoulder length, just below shoulder, 7-8 inches below the shoulder, and very long.

In fact, Indra Nooyi was ranked the most powerful woman by Fortune (see photo).


The results?

Very short (like men’s): 58%
Shoulder length: 28%
3-5 inches below shoulder: 10%
7-8 inches below shoulder: 4%
Longer: 0%

Two other features were noticeable. If you look at the same distribution for women in the top 10, the results are even more skewed.

Top 10:
60%, 30%, 10%, 0%, 0%

Top 5:
100%, 0%, 0%, 0%, 0%

And, only two of these 50 women had a feminine hairstyle, only one with prominent curls.

Makes you wonder: Do successful women have very short hair cuts because they are successful and presumably don’t have the time or patience to deal with anything longer? Or, to get to the top they had to project an image that people normally associate with leaders?

I guess with my unruly curly long hair, I might as well drop any ideas of being a CEO :)

Glass ceiling surveys

Recently I came across a survey being conducted jointly by IIM Ahmedabad and NASSCOM on women in leadership. I was very disappointed with the survey.

1. It is poorly designed in terms of being able to do proper statistical analysis because the responses are just y/n. You just have to state how good/bad it is.
2. Many questions are leading questions.
3. And worse, many questions are not about the organization but the respondents beliefs, “Personal inhibitions within women prevent them from reaching leadership positions.”
4. And you can’t state whether you consider the criteria even important or not. For example you can only state whether the org encourages “Motivational talks and workshops by senior women” or “Self development”, and whether they are good or not. Whether I think they are useful or important is not asked for any questions/criteria.

The whole thing looks like a survey designed by a student for a class project, not by ‘top’ institutions and associations.

That’s the problem with most gender research. It is, I’m sorry to say, all very silly – the way it is designed and therefore the results it shows. And none of them get to the bottom of the real issues faced by people.

What all these people forget is that just because we are women, we are not necessarily all the same. Who would go about doing a men’s survey, asking them if the org has a “Retiring room for women”. Perhaps such a thing is needed during pregnancy – but then why not ask a more specific question – what are the things you need at work during pregnancy. Are you getting them? Why ask non-pregnant women about a retiring room, but not men? Why should only women need flexibility in work hours and not men? It is all so silly.

Women are after all people, just as men are people. What organizations need to assess, and understand, is whether they are able to meet the different needs of their employees. Some employees (men and women) will have young children to care for, some will have elderly parents. Some will want to have ‘fun at work’ while others just want to work and spend time with non-work friends. Some need motivational talks, some don’t. So why assume just because I am a woman, I need a special retiring room, motivational talks, self-development?

I do think that “motivational talks by senior women” can help, for those who need them. But you can’t just pick any senior-level woman and try to get her to motivate others. Being a senior woman doesn’t automatically grant you motivational powers (same goes for men).

Women after all make up 50% of any population (well, lower in many states in India…but regardless). 50% is a huge %. We can’t all have the same needs and different in the same way from some preconceived notion of an average man.

In my experience, all my frustrations at work have been because I want/expect different things than most people and not because of my womanly needs (whatever they are). I want flex-time because spending hours a day in traffic zaps any energy and thinking ability out of my head. I want to be able to work from home on some days, because I want to be able to run an errand and work the rest of the day. I want people to not set up meetings after normal business hours because I can’t be on a company bus after the roads become full of smog/pollution and cause incessant coughing. If the company makes me stay late at work, I want it to pay for my taxi home. If I travel for business and want to take a convenient personal detour, I want it to allow me to pay for the detour, not force me to either make the whole trip personal or business. And I want the company to treat me as a responsible adult, not a wayward 12-year old.

Wouldn’t men want this stuff too?