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A Victory for All

Did you watch?  Did you cheer?  Did you cry every time they showed a commercial with a young girl with a hopeful expression?

I realize that not all of our Underpinnings community may have been interested in the recent victory by the United States team in the FIFA World Cup, but we all should be.  In fact, the victory by the United States isn’t the only significant takeaway from this soccer tournament.  (Sorry fans from the rest of the world – in my land, football involves helmets and tailgating and the use of hands).  The attention paid to all the teams and the tournament in general is a victory.

Until recent years, women’s sports were only of universal interest when there was some item of appeal other than just the female athletes’ performances.  Dorothy Hamill’s haircut, Florence Griffith-Joyner’s one-legged running suits, Misty May-Treanor’s uniform – all of these elements were used as additional allure to help get people to cheer for women’s sports.  Today, Serena Williams still gets more press for giving Meghan Markle a baby shower than for her 23 Grand Slam singles titles. In most cases, television networks and venue owners and, let’s be honest, most ordinary citizens in the past didn’t believe that women’s sports were exciting or interesting because women weren’t considered to be elite athletes.  Instead, the average bear looked at women in sports along the lines of “Isn’t that cute?”  It was the same attitude by which most parents view their first graders’ pursuit of local championships.  It’s cute that they’re trying, isn’t it? If you are over 30 and you think everyone you know took you seriously as an athlete, you’re sadly deluded.  You and your teammates were serious, of course. Your family? Yes.  Your school?  Probably a lot of them did.  The guy who owns the local hardware store?  Insert chuckle here.

I give you this jaded, cynical perspective as someone who can attest to it from the front lines.  I was on the volleyball team, the softball team, the cheerleading squad, and the tennis team in grade school, and the cross country and track teams in grade school, high school, and college.  I played Little League baseball right after the Supreme Court decided that girls had to be allowed to play. I also was in a bunch of other activities, like newspaper, Pep Club, French Club, student government, ASCE, Tau Beta Pi, etc., so I could see the contrast between sports and other areas.  (Yes, I “overscheduled” myself, but I had a deep, abject fear of being called lazy.  I have no idea why, and it certainly was not the fault of my very supportive parents, but there you have it.  My efforts often suffered from a quantity over quality issue).

This is not to say that I experienced full equity in every other activity, but I did hear the same statement made repeatedly about sports – “Okay, maybe women are equal to men mentally, but you have to admit that men are stronger and faster, so women will never be able to compete with men in sports.”  This assumes that all sports depend solely on speed and strength. The foregone conclusion then was that women’s sports weren’t worth watching because we are inferior athletes.  (It should be noted that strength is defined here solely as the ability to lift the heaviest weights.  As is demonstrated by concrete, one definition of strength does not mean that the material is “strongest”).

Many guys I have known have treated sports almost as if they are the last bastions of men’s superiority to women.  They reluctantly support our forays into “their” worlds – banking, medicine, construction – and fall back on what they think is a sure-fired argument, that being that women will never be equal to men in what they see as physical prowess.  Once again, their perspective is too general and transparently desperate.

In high school, a coach for a rival cross-country team was generous with his excellent coaching advice, often giving pointers to those of us not on his team.  We were a tight community and he was well-regarded, so no one objected.  In addition, one of the girls on his team and I looked a lot alike, and our people routinely mistook us for each other, so I became friends with most of the girls on their team.

After one meet, I made a passing comment to this coach that I wished I could have finished the race as strongly as my doppelganger, a girl named Jenny.  He patted me on the shoulder and said, “You know, she had a lot of trouble at the beginning of the year because she started looking like her mama.  We worked on changing her strength training to adjust to her new body.  It’s helped a lot.  You ladies have to remember that you shouldn’t necessarily train the same way the boys do.  You’re not less, you’re just different.” I was so taken aback that I stood there with my mouth open.  Luckily, he was a good man and gave me some encouraging words before he moved on.

What Coach was saying was that the girl in question had just developed a bunch of curves and grown 3 inches.  The same thing had happened to the defending State Champion the year before, and she finished 25th in State in her “new” body.

This was the first time anyone spoke to me about my physical characteristics as a female as if they were part of a different athletic machine instead of an inferior one.  I had a lot of good coaches, but most of them existed within the limited framework society presented for women’s sports.  We worked hard, we did what we could, but we didn’t get the same analysis and encouragement to push our limits like the guys did.

The world is a much better place for female athletes today, but many people still hold onto the same prejudices, regardless of what they say or how many daughters they have in soccer leagues.  How many times have you heard a guy say, “Some of those women athletes don’t even look like women,” or “Some of those girls need to watch what they say in their interviews,” or “The women’s games are fun, but they’re not real (fill in sport here) like the men play.”  These statements show that a lot of people still expect women to do what women are supposed to do – look pretty and behave.  We can do whatever we want as long as we strive to achieve those things and don’t try to barge into the men’s domain of physical prowess.

This World Cup team, and many people (at least in the U.S. audience), have ignored that attitude.  Commercials during the games have shown women inspiring girls to be…whatever they want.  We’ve had fabulous highlight reels and packed watch parties.  The festivities have not been afflicted by the condescending, patronizing air that in the past has plagued coverage of women’s sports.  This is sports.  Period.  Somewhere Bubba is out fishing with his friends and complaining that those “ugly manly women trying to play soccer shouldn’t be on TV,” but his opinion wouldn’t be a popular one at most watering holes this week.

And the effects reach beyond the field.  During this World Cup, the issue came up that the U.S. Women have performed (repeatedly) better than the U.S. men, but they are paid a fraction of what the men are paid.  The revelation caused quite an uproar, leading to yet another discussion of gender equity in yet another arena.  (Equal pay! Equal pay!) Even if you aren’t into sports, you owe this team a thank you for bringing the case for equity to a very visible, very popular format.  Don’t rail about how “more important” professions should have been given attention before this, and people in sports don’t do “real work.”  Say thank you for the shot in the arm and for putting the spotlight on pay equity to an audience of millions.

The important lesson from the success of the World Cup team as it pertains to our struggles as women goes back to the words of my rival coach.  People can say that men are faster or stronger or don’t have to worry about breastfeeding their newborns while overseeing installation of a slurry cutoff wall.  That just means we’re different.  Not less, just different.  The world is a better place when everyone recognizes this.

Perfection, Part II

Are These Our Only Two Choices?

No doubt you have taken part in at least one discussion, if not endless discourse, on the cultural rift we have today between our Millennial generation and the rest of the world in the working environment.  Trust me when I say I understand why this division exists, because I have analyzed and investigated and listened until I can’t stand to hear the phrase “work-life balance” one more time.  I get it, and I understand it.  Whether or not I agree with many of the current recommendations for coping with it is a minefield for another time.

Pertinent to our exploration of perfection here at Underpinnings is a thread that runs through most examinations of why Millennials act the way they do – the idea that we, the parent generation, are at fault.  As a friend of mine so aptly put it, “We always swore up and down that our kids wouldn’t have to work as hard as we have.  Well, they don’t.  At all.”

Before this turns into an ugly digital brawl over whether or not Millennials are worthless slackers or hapless victims, (do you love the fact that those are the only two choices?), I would divert your attention to the same hypothesis, but for a different issue.  Are we, the parents of the next generation of brilliant women, promoting perfection at the expense of personal growth and societal improvement? And are we doing it to spare ourselves from pain?

Many of us in the GenX and Baby Boomer categories have fought some bloody battles to get where we are and to smooth the way for women behind us on the moving sidewalk of life.  We remember when a woman would have very little recourse if a man on a construction site said something vulgar or, worse, didn’t pay any attention to her engineering recommendations.  We’ve had our asses grabbed and our chests groped, and we have been on the receiving end of drunken kisses from superiors at professional events.

So things are better now, right?  And that’s a good thing, right?  But are we, ourselves, sabotaging more progress by reinforcing the notion of perfection in our daughters, our protégées, and our co-workers?

The connection between the quest for perfection and problems with sexism have played around the edges of my brain for a long time.  There was something there that was truly bothering me, and I knew it was a very basic, very ugly problem.  It took a lot of runs and hours on the Treadclimber to jar the pattern out of my observations.  When I finally felt like I had made the connection I was sensing, it came down to two issues: stereotypes and sex.

Yes, we cheer on young women now in a variety of previously male-dominated fields.  If you are the top of your class and you get promoted to district manager at 25 and you receive an award for Young Contractor of the Year, the world will give you a medal and call you legitimate.  But if you are a female and you’re not in the top 10% of your class, chances are you will not get a rousing round of encouragement to “go for it.”  Why?  Because we all know that even in 2018, a woman has to excel to be considered average in a man’s world.  A woman who does not excel will not be considered average, she’ll be viewed as dead weight.  So, as often occurs, her loving family discourages her from moving forward in a career environment that they know will be difficult.  Our message: If you’re not brilliant, you’re a failure.  Even worse – if you’re not brilliant, you need to settle for being just a wife and mother.  (As if being a wife and mother is easy or unimportant or settling). Why are there only two extremes?  Because parents and mentors don’t want their loved ones to be hurt.  So we drive drive drive the young ladies to get perfect grades and be class president and captain of the lacrosse team.  And when our daughters get average grades and express interest in “unimportant” things like teaching or fashion or interior design, we write them off.  (Where would we be without teachers???) Or when they get average grades and still want to be engineers, we discourage them.  It will be too hard, we think. Being who they are isn’t enough to break the glass ceiling, so being who they are isn’t enough. We then relegate their career importance to whatever children they may someday have.

I work with a lot of men who aren’t very smart.  (Insert jokes here). Many of them are successful because they work hard, they’re creative, and they come up with unique solutions to problems.  There’s no reason to think that a female engineering student with middling grades couldn’t achieve in the same manner.  But we know she’ll be underappreciated at the start, and we don’t want her to get discouraged.  So we recommend different routes.  We imply that anything less than perfection isn’t good enough to join our sisterhood.

The other side of this issue involves our personal, not professional, expectations of our younger generation.  One could (try to) make the argument that some parents press their children of both sexes to be top notch academically and give up when they aren’t. But no argument can be made that we view our daughters and sons equally when evaluating their personal decisions.

Take pregnancy. Obviously, all parents and mentors want their young people to become parents when it is appropriate and feasible financially.  (Spoiler – it’s never financially feasible to be a parent).  But if a boy gets his girlfriend (or Friday night hookup) pregnant, chances are his family will be upset, but mainly concerned about how he’ll be able to support the child and how it will affect his future.  If a girl gets pregnant by her boyfriend, her family is worried about the same things, but they are also ashamed.  They are disappointed in her.  As much as you can try to say that the concern is just about her future, 9 times out of 10 the parents and friends are disappointed in her moral choices.  She let someone touch her.  If the boy was a Friday night hookup instead of a boyfriend, the shame is tenfold.  You can try to say all day long that all of the crying is about practicality and futures and finances, but you cannot deny the fact that many parents will look at their daughters differently in these situations.  She had sex.  Everyone will know.  So they push their daughters to be perfect.  Don’t dress improperly.  Don’t flirt.  You don’t need to pay attention to boys, you need to study. Isn’t it great that my daughter isn’t interested in boys?

A sad component of this problem is our own selfish worries about what others will think.  “They’ll think I’m a bad parent.” “People will know my daughter decided to have sex and they’ll think less of me.”  Needless to say, such concerns are shallow and only reinforce sexist societal attitudes.

Along with shame from pregnancy comes fear of our young women being seen as sexual beings at all.  Our sons get lucky with a hot girl at work?  At least one person will say, “Atta boy.” You find out your daughter had sex with a construction worker on one of her sites?  Instead of, “Well, that wasn’t brilliant, but making mistakes means learning,” we say, “Who knows about it?  Oh no.  You’ll be ruined.” (No one EVER says, “Atta girl.”) In many cases, she will be ruined.  Because we, the older generation, are freaking out about the fact that an adult woman in a free society made a choice.  Again, you can say all day long that we are just trying to protect her, but perpetuating double-standards isn’t protection.  It’s fear.  We are limiting our daughters’ freedom because we are afraid they’ll get hurt, and that hurt will hurt us.

Our over-protection is just another version of trophies-for-everyone, no-grades-until-fourth-grade, and gifts-for-every-party-guest.  Our generation and the generation before us got where we are by dealing with the ugly side of sexism in the workplace and in society.  If we want progress to continue, we have to allow the current generation to participate.  Let your young protégée take that job with that nasty old superintendent, and let her figure out how to show him who’s boss.  She’ll probably make some mistakes, and she might even end up quitting the job, but at least she got out there. Support your daughter when she admits that she hates school and she’s always dreamed of being a magician on a cruise ship and VIEW HER CAREER AS VALID.  Treat your niece like the shining star she still is when she comes home from Coachella pregnant.  She is a smart, strong, ball-buster, and she’ll figure out a way to get her PhD in agronomy with a toddler on her hip. We have to stop telling our girls that their only two choices are perfection and mediocrity.  And we need to respect them as the fierce individuals that they are instead of trying to cram them into some ideal that helps us sleep at night.

Perfection, Part I

I Just Want It To Be Perfect

When I was young I used to haul around a sketch pad with me everywhere.  I spent hours and hours drawing…dresses.  I was fascinated by fabric and design and endlessly intrigued by art that one can wear.  As I grew older, I found out that my passion for art was balanced by my interest in science and engineering.  I thought the Great Pyramids were beautiful, but I also constantly found myself saying, “But how did they build that?” I think you know which direction I chose when I hit the unavoidable fork in the career road in college.

My artistic beginnings are probably some of the reasons I’m such a big fan of the TLC show “Say Yes to the Dress.”  No, it’s not the family drama.  It’s not the suspense. (Will she find a dress?! Or will she go to her $150,000 wedding in a sundress from Target?) It’s truly the dresses.  At the end of a long week when I’m trying to decide if I want to be an engineer again on Monday, I can sit on the couch on Friday night and say, “Ooo – look how well that drapes!”

On the other hand, the quickest way for me lose my Friday night happy coma is for one of the brides to implore, “But I just want it to be perfect!” This statement typically is said in the same tone a defeated peasant uses as she watches the invading army ride into town – “I just hope they let some of us live!”  The desperate brides who use this phrase lead us to believe that their lives will be over if every detail in their weddings is not exactly as they have envisioned it.  The cynic in me often yells at the screen, “You mean not perfect, as in something might happen that you haven’t imagined in your short, limited little life?  Something that might be better than what you dreamt of in your narrow-minded pursuit of an impossible goal but that you’ll be too myopic to appreciate?!” Okay, I try to keep my blood pressure low by ignoring this part of the episodes, but sometimes I can’t help it.  And it seems as if this illusion of perfection is everywhere these days.  It drives me crazy.  More importantly, it seems to me that the goal of perfection is much more prevalent among women than among men.

My distaste for this idea of perfection turned into a more mature interest when I heard this TED Talk.  Throughout Ms. Saujauni’s presentation, I kept saying, “Yes! Yes!” The idea of having to attain perfection is much more than a dramatic moment on a Friday night reality show. Her insights made me see that my revulsion on Friday nights was a response to a much larger condition than simply a tulle vs. silk predicament.  Soon after I listened to her talk, I read this post . I think both ladies have very similar messages, and I think we need to sit up and take notice, for our daughters’ sakes.

Human beings are, by definition, imperfect.  Our world also is imperfect.  We might use the word with abandon when it comes to spring days and d’Orsay heels and men who play James Bond.  But the truth is that none of those things and none of this world actually are perfect.  And those who pursue the nonexistent are doomed to the frustration of futility.

So why do we ask our daughters to be perfect? Why do we encourage them to attempt only things in which they have some chance of succeeding?  Why do we do everything in our power to protect them from making mistakes? Why are we so petrified that they will make mistakes?

As a perpetual optimist, I like to think the root of this problem is in biology, not in maliciousness.  As our species was becoming established, it was necessary for women to be as “perfect” as possible to be attractive to potential mates.  Women who did not reproduce and who weren’t married often did not have the protection of a man and could end up in dire straits. Families wanted to make sure their daughters didn’t end up poor and at the mercy of a less-than-benevolent society, so they pushed them to be without any possible flaws that could be construed as unsuitable for a potential mate.

This anthropological analysis (without any expertise to back it up), would explain an 1850s frontier family’s extreme concern over their oldest daughter’s penchant for wearing men’s pants while doing her farm chores.  In 1850, the negative reaction from the rest of the people in the small prairie town could lead to more than just some counseling sessions over bullying at the general store.  Being unmarriageable on the frontier could lead to problems for the whole family, including lack of protection from hostile raids and exclusion from pooling of resources.

But this isn’t 1850.  Even if your grandmother scolds you that you won’t find a man with hands that dirty (I proved her wrong more than once), the family is not likely to end up starving and surrounded by pirates/bandits just because you spend your days smeared with unladylike mud from various construction sites.

And yet, we continue to hold onto this idea of perfection.  We cringe at the thought of our daughters doing anything to generate negative attention.  If I hear “But in this age of social media, their mistakes will follow them everywhere” one more time I’ll scream.  Yes, your mistakes will be preserved for all eternity, but so what?  They are mistakes.  By teaching our daughters that mistakes should be avoided and covered up at all costs, we are telling them that they are not okay if they make a mistake.  We are saying that evidence of a mistake made 15 years ago might very well ruin an entire life.  And, in doing so, we discourage them from taking risks.  We teach them not to be brave.

I would be willing to gamble some hard-earned pennies that most of the women reading this post who have succeeded in engineering or construction careers have felt during at least part of those careers that they could not make any mistakes.  They knew that any one mistake, whether it be professional or personal, could spell the end of their careers.  After all, there were many men just looking for reasons as to why those women shouldn’t be in their jobs.  A mistake of any sort would provide just the ammunition a misogynist would need to say, “See?  I told you she didn’t belong here.”

When was the last time you heard about a guy who slept with his secretary or his foreperson or his IT expert and it didn’t affect his job.  The answer is yesterday.  Even better, when was the last time you saw a male co-worker get completely ripped at a company party and dance around with the proverbial lamp shade on his head?  Again, the answer is yesterday.  Many people would say, “Wow, that guy…” as they chuckled to themselves.  But the philanderer and the drunk both would keep their jobs.  “But, he’s good at his job, right?”

Now put a woman in both of those scenarios.  She’s not going to survive either one of these incidents.  Because both involve mistakes.  And both involve a lapse in judgment, which we are not allowed to have.  “What else will she do?  She might end up sleeping with the whole second floor IT department!  And if her judgment is bad in this area, how can she possibly size a beam for a load test?  Off with her head!”

So we tell our daughters to be strong and ambitious and go get a great career….as long as they do it perfectly.  If any mistakes are made, we’ll hire social media experts to wipe away the evidence, and we’ll spirit the girl off to an isolated location for trauma control. Yes, go get that engineering degree from Berkeley, but be sure to get straight As and make sure you agree with everyone you encounter.  They’ll call you a star if you’re perfect! Of course, you’ll never have an opportunity to learn from any mistakes, and your risk-avoidance will prohibit you from trying anything new or innovative.  But have a great life!

Is this what we want?  I know I don’t.  Over the years some of my most spectacular mistakes have taught me the most.  And I don’t want the false sense of security that I’m only okay if I’m perfect, which I’m not.  (I think there is a full astral plane between me and perfection).

So what do we do about this?  Or do we do something about this – is perfection the right goal?  Stay tuned for Part II.

Shades of Gray

We Can Do It…Even Better Now

If you follow our little blog and read the comments from our readers, you might have seen a rather pointed comment on our introduction of our contest winner, Lori Simpson, back in December.  After we listed all of Lori’s lengthy accomplishments, I suggested that this was all very impressive because Lori was only 25.  The implication, of course, was that it would be more desirable if Lori were 25 than her actual age, which is not my business to disclose. (I wasn’t raised by wolves).  One of our readers expressed her dismay at the joke and suggested that we stop acting like younger is better and start showing some respect for the accomplishments and benefits of age.

Okay, just between us chickens, my initial reaction was not one that appreciated her insights.  In fact, I think the mumbling alone in my office went something like, “Oh sure – you’re probably, what?  35?  If that?  I’ll bet you don’t spend a good portion of your time trying to keep your rear end from hanging down to the backs of your knees.  You probably don’t even know what Retinol is.  You have maybe one wrinkle?  And you probably told all your friends about how horrible it is.  Just wait until your face looks like a topo map and then talk to me about how great age is. You’ll just love it when you look like Mrs. Claus and all the guys just want you to bake them cookies.”  There might have been some uglier rambling, but I’ll spare you that.

Over the next few days, I kept thinking about her comments.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was right.  I hate it when that happens.  My attitude about my own age in fact does nothing more than contribute to accepted social negativity.  As long as I focus on the drawbacks of maturity and fail to celebrate the benefits, I’m just making the problem worse.

So I need to embrace the beauty of maturity and wisdom and stop acting like younger is better.  This is nothing we all haven’t read in a thousand magazines.  Extol the mystique and allure of my accumulated years and celebrate the fact that I have a lot more career experience and knowledge than the average bear.  Appreciate that I am in a position now to help my clients and contribute professionally with a unique perspective based on a long history of project execution and successes.

Fabulous.  So I conceded my error (even though our beloved reader never knew of my solo rant) and issued a retraction in the form of a Solution Feature that embraced the value of age.

But the issue kept bugging me.  There was something missing from this newly accepted perspective.  Even though I was not drinking wine at a café in Paris, adorned with an artfully arranged scarf and chatting with the most recent in a string of fabulous lovers, I could see myself better in the framework of an accomplished woman of 50.  (There, it’s out there.  It only took 45 minutes for me to type that number).  But the career side didn’t fit.  So I had to sort through it to understand why.

Many times I’ve been with my dad at a site, and an owner or a contractor or another engineer has listened to him and not me.  I can’t count how many times he’s said to me, “You just don’t have enough gray hair.” To which I usually replied, “I have a salon to make sure that never happens.”  It’s been our running joke for years. When I tried to figure out what piece of the maturity puzzle was missing, I realized that this was it.

Women only began working in our industry in visible numbers in recent years.  It’s reasonable to say that women only really began entering our field in significant numbers in the mid-1980s.  If a woman graduated from college in 1985, she would be about 55 years old now.  What does this mean?  This means that most of the guys on jobsites and at design firms have no experience in dealing with a “gray-haired” woman in our industry.  They don’t associate a gray-haired woman in our position with a paragon of wisdom, because they have no frame of reference.

So doesn’t that just mean that we’re creating a new identity and men in our field will start to recognize it?  If only it were that simple. Unfortunately, in our business, we have trouble with our roles to begin with.  Many guys don’t acknowledge us at all.  Being older won’t have any effect on their apathy.  Other men pay attention to us only because we’re female.  (“You smell better than the concrete crew.” So do some horses, but the gist of the compliment was understood).  We hope and pray that our expertise will widen their appreciation of our abilities beyond just physical appearance and they’ll eventually regard us as worthwhile professionals.  Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t.  For those guys, age cancels out any reason to pay attention to us.  We’re old and unattractive to them. For another subset of guys, an older woman creates nothing but a worry or a hazard on a jobsite.  “Don’t break a hip!”  “Wouldn’t you be happier somewhere you can get your knitting needles out and work?”

We don’t have that magical role of a wise sage to attain, because it doesn’t exist in the female form in our industry.  That doesn’t mean there aren’t some brilliant femmes d’un certain age in our field.  But they are so few as to not be known by the masses.

What that means for us is that Joe B. Superintendent might ask me if I’m at a site to visit my grandson, or if I’m someone’s secretary delivering shop drawings.  He might hold my elbow when I step over piles of rebar because he’s afraid I’ll break a bone and end up in a nursing home forever.  He might ignore me thinking I have nothing useful to share.

This sounds rather grim, doesn’t it?  On the contrary, much like everything else we have dealt with in our roles as women in a male-dominated profession, this is just another opportunity to blaze a trail.  In fact, this gives us the chance to define what the image of an experienced, mature female engineer or contractor will be in the deep foundations business.  I’m thinking we can do a lot with this.  My contribution might be along the lines of Indiana Jones meets Dorothy Parker meets Reese Witherspoon.  We are not conventional women and we won’t leave conventional marks.  And all the boys on the jobsites will recognize that they will have no idea what to expect when they see a female “gray hair,” but we’ll have important things to contribute.  I’m not suggesting this will be easy, but it gives us something more positive to reach for in our dotage when we start getting negative or apathetic reactions instead of the respect we deserve.  I hope you’ll write this script with me.

(It’s important to note that I say gray hair symbolically and metaphorically.  I honor every woman’s choice, but I’m southern.  We don’t do that salt and pepper nonsense, and you will not convince me that it’s more authentic or honest or whatever other fairy tale you want to sell me.  Hair colorists need jobs, and I won’t let them down.  But I’ll project that “gray hair” aura with pride).

Civil Wars

The Casualties Are Higher When It’s Personal

It didn’t take the #metoo movement for most of us to be familiar with being undervalued or disrespected or ignored at work or in school.  Even our youngest millennials who work in progressive companies with open-minded colleagues have run into ugliness at some point.  The trouble may have come from a backwards guy on a jobsite spouting obscene suggestions while he ignored your engineering evaluation of the problem with his soil nail wall.  You may have lost a promotion to a guy with less experience but who the boss felt more comfortable sending out to construction sites.  Or the issue may have been more subtle; a manager who professed to care about your career but who kept assigning difficult projects to others in order to “give you less stress.”

As we wade through these swine-infested waters, the implication is that all of our problems are work issues.  The offenders are people from families that aren’t yours.  The misogynists are other women’s husbands (bless their hearts). And when you leave the offensive situation at work, you get to go home to sympathetic people who love you and value you for everything wonderful that you are.

Yes, in the candy-canes-and-teddy-bears world in my head this is true.  We all have supportive, understanding partners and close-knit, warm families.  Diane Keaton will be playing your mom in the movie about how you took on the unequal power structure at your company and won, and Kelly Clarkson will do the soundtrack.

How often is this really true?  Using the analytical side of our personalities, does it make statistical sense that all of us fabulous women in our field would have enlightened partners and families?  Not a chance.  We have to be realistic about the fact that our career choices likely will make waves for us personally as well as professionally.  And it’s doubtful that there’s an HR office in your house to sort it out.  So solving your inequality problems with people you are tied to legally and genetically probably will be much more complicated than taking care of your work issues.  And much more painful.

I worked with a woman years ago whose father was an earthwork contractor.  He had raised his two sons to work in the family business, and neither had ended up working with him.  On the other hand, his daughter had spent her childhood begging to learn how to operate a backhoe, asking questions about grade stakes and stockpiles.  He told her that girls had no place in construction.  She tried for years, only to be rebuffed.  Finally out of high school, she chose to go to engineering school, hoping for a “backdoor” into her father’s world.  Sadly, he never accepted her.  His disapproval and lack of pride in his daughter’s accomplishments led to bitterness and anger in her.  When I met her she was in her late twenties, and her bitterness toward her father subconsciously controlled most of her actions.  She slept with men of whom she knew he would disapprove; she slanted all of her evaluations on jobsites against the interests of the contractors; and she measured every career victory in terms of what her father was missing. It was tragic.

Could she have changed her father’s longstanding opinions if she had tried a different approach? Could she have proven to him through actions that his outdated beliefs were wrong? We’ll never know.  They stopped speaking to each other years ago.

Many counselors and psychologists will tell you that insecurities are magnified a thousand fold with your “family of origin.”  This sensitivity can make rectifying a bad situation seem insurmountable.  The emotions involved can cloud reason and douse any flame of energy for being patient with ingrained prejudices and longstanding beliefs. With family, a woman must have a true desire to change her relatives’ beliefs and behaviors.  And she must have patience above all.  Because she is not just redefining another person’s beliefs, she is restructuring the family unit. Making progress may not always be possible, and it will be arduous when it does occur.

A relationship with a partner is a completely different issue.  A partner is someone who has been chosen. The implication is that the chosen person loves you and wants what’s best for you, no matter what.  Even if such a person would have outdated beliefs, they would be easy to convert to a more progressive mindset because they think you’re fabulous.

If only it were that simple.  As Annie Schmelzer said so brilliantly in this post, most guys don’t go around with a T-shirt that says they’re insecure sexists who will try to undermine you the minute they feel threatened.  Wait – threatened?  If you love a man and he loves you, why should he ever feel threatened?  If you really love each other (and you didn’t get together just because all of your other friends were getting married and it was “time”), you both want nothing more than the health and happiness of the other person.  Anything less isn’t real love.  But close-but-no-cigar love often comes disguised as real love.  Unfortunately, the voids usually don’t appear until it’s too complicated to just walk away.

My mistakes in this area have been spectacular, the product of my leap-before-I-look personality and my perpetual optimism. (Really? That alcoholic who flirts with me every time I come out on site doesn’t respect me?  But he said he likes me…) My longtime boyfriend in college was very supportive of my engineering career until I ran into a problem with a guy on my second co-op job in school.  When I told my boyfriend that I had brought it up to my boss, he said, “Hey – I didn’t sign up for any feminist crusade.”  A guy had just been extremely disrespectful to me, and all my boyfriend could think about was not being involved in a conflict.  And I was too stupid to get out of the relationship at the time.

Even though I broke up with that guy later, my obliviousness continued. Probably the most painful experience I had was when I got married to a man who professed to think that my job was “cool” and that he was proud of me. I had always thought that the best part of marriage was sharing yourself with another person, not being afraid that the other person will judge you or use what you share against you.  Both of you are supposed to always be on the other’s side. But what I found is that every time I did well at work, my husband would use something I had told him against me.  If I solved a dispute on a construction site, he would remind me that I had stomach ulcers and was “weak.”  If I gained a new client, he would work into conversation that I get my rights and my lefts mixed up often.  If someone else complimented me on my work at a party, he would tell the crowd that I told him how nervous I was when I had to deal with a particular client.  I didn’t recognize the pattern – or the motive – at first, but as time went on his comments became meaner and his acknowledgements of anything I did well fewer and far between.  Needless to say, he loved some idea of me, but not the actual me.  Not the me who wades through mud in deep sinkholes.  Not the me who changes her own tires and doesn’t automatically ask a man to perform tough jobs.  And being with someone who didn’t want me to be the best person I could, whether as a muddy engineer or in a more traditional role, wasn’t healthy.

As difficult as our professional problems with gender inequality may be, solving the same problems in our personal lives is far more complicated and burdensome.  The emotions involved can distort our perceptions of what is best for us and distract us from the truth in our lives.  There is no handbook, no company policy, no legal recourse for being narrow-minded in a personal relationship.  But we have our sisterhood in this, too, and we owe it to other women to support them when they need us, whether the problem is personal or professional.  People we love and who allege to love us should love us for who we are, not who they want us to be.  And just like in our professional lives, we owe it to ourselves not to settle for less.

Time’s Up II

Part II – Us

Previously we addressed the unsuitable behavior of some men in the workplace, and we offered guidelines for those men who were either sincerely or disingenuously unable to tell the difference between appropriate and inappropriate actions. The other variable in the equation that adds up to a happy workplace is our behavior. Yes, us, the women who are the subjects of this stramash.  We may be the victims, but that does not mean we don’t have certain responsibilities in moving toward a solution to the problem.

Wait, what?  Somehow the wrong attitudes and actions of other people create responsibilities for us?  But we didn’t do anything.  Why should we have to work to take care of a problem caused by someone else?

We have a responsibility here because this isn’t Candyland.  This is real life, and we live in a world that has been evolving for about 4.54 billion years, give or take 10 to 50 million years. Every ice age, every extinction, every social change, every shift in hemlines has been a product of interdependent factors in a complex environment.  You can sit on your princess throne and say that men should just change and life should just be fair.  Good luck with that.

For our part, it will only help our cause if we are proactive and do everything in our power to stop the bad guys and enlighten the good guys.  Sure, you could just sit around and be mad, waiting for social change to sweep across professional society like a special effect in a science fiction movie. Your desired results will take much, much longer that way, and you will be disconnected from the end result.  Instead, we can all take some basic steps to help create an environment that is fair and beneficial to all of us.

1.    Repeat after me, “Not all men are bad.”  (Okay, you get a pass on this if some guy just broke up with you on a Post-It and you’re out drinking with your girlfriends). It’s funny, because even most guys I know will say, “Men are pigs.”  The implication is that men are led around by their baser instincts and, therefore, will always be low quality humans who make bad decisions.  But that’s just not true.  Even from a statistical standpoint, it is highly unlikely that 49% of 7 billion people would ALL have sub-par character.  And assuming that all men are bad is a negative attitude that will ill prepare you for helping your co-workers and bosses and clients evolve into more enlightened colleagues.  Saying that all men are bad is a defeatist attitude that will not move us forward even an inch (or a centimeter for our Canadian and European readers).

2.    We have to be aware of our own behavior and how it affects the perception of the men around us.  I will admit that I sometimes have difficulties with this.  I am a toucher – if you’ve met me, I’ve probably hugged you.  I routinely grasp the nearest person’s arm to make a point, and I’ll squeeze a colleague around the shoulders to offer congratulations.  I have learned that this sometimes generates confusion with my male colleagues.  Yes, I’m proud of you for getting that journal article published, but no, I don’t intend to sleep with you as an attaboy.  Unfortunately, many men will admit that they are less than adept at reading subtle signs and differentiating between behavior types in various situations.  Simply put, some guys think you must want to sleep with them because you squeezed their arms.  They are not pigs, they’re just…clueless.  It has taken me awhile, but I have learned that I need to be more restrained in many situations to avoid confusion.  It doesn’t mean I have to be cold and unfriendly, I just have to pay more attention to men’s reactions and err on the safe side until I feel like I know someone well.  This doesn’t mean I’m being unduly burdened, it just means I’m being a responsible adult.

It goes without saying that flirting on the job will broadcast the idea that you might be receptive to inappropriate actions.  Certainly, no means no.  But you can avoid the pothole more easily if you don’t steer the car in that direction.

3.    We have to speak up every time. Sometimes we endure an ugly situation and we emerge unscathed.  The temptation is to let well enough alone and move on.  Say your boss got physical with you, you gave him what-for, and now he’s acting respectful and giving you a wide berth. You consider just chalking it up to a bad memory and never speaking of it again.  But what about the next woman? Maybe she’s not as brave as you are.  Maybe she has four kids at home and she’s petrified she’ll lose her job.  So the boss just moves on to harassing her.  When she finally gets up the nerve to blow the whistle, the supporting evidence you have that would have helped her establish a pattern of behavior isn’t there.  Management doubts her claim, because they usually do at first, and when you finally come forward, HR says, “If this really happened, why didn’t you complain?”  When you say that the issue was solved, people inevitably look at the other woman and say, “Why didn’t you just do what she did?”  Everyone becomes distracted from the fact that what the guy has been doing is WRONG. We need to address bad behavior every time.

It should be noted that at some point in time your justifiable whistle blowing most likely will result in an accusation that you’re just a whiner.  You’re too sensitive.  You caused the problem.  Or, my favorite, you’re just hard to work with.  Almost every woman in our field over the age of 30 has been told this at some point because she made public some guy’s bad behavior.  I wish I could say don’t worry about it, it won’t happen.  But it will, so you have to tell yourself in advance that you’re doing the right thing, and you’re a delightful person.  No one can make you feel bad about yourself if you don’t let them.

4.    We must always use our power for good. On the opposite side of justifiable whistle blowing is using sexual harassment as a tool to get back at a man with whom you have a personal dispute.  Just like sexual harassment, false accusations are wrong.  Ruining a man’s reputation because you don’t like him is wrong.  Claiming sexual wrongdoing when a workplace romance goes horribly awry is wrong.

I once worked with a woman who actively pursued one of the engineers with the company, even seducing him at his desk after hours.  When the short-lived affair went south, she got angry with the engineer and went to the boss to say that she was offended that Playboy magazines were kept in the men’s restroom by this engineer.  She felt sexually harassed by this.  Obviously, her campaign was personal, and I didn’t back her up when the boss asked me if I also felt compromised. She was furious with me, but I told her that her claim would make it difficult the next time a real problem happened.

This list is not comprehensive, because the best defense is a great offense. But probably our biggest responsibility in our very complicated campaign to rid the workplace of sexual inequalities is our need to support our sisters.  This does not mean you have to agree with every opinion of every woman you know, and we don’t all have to be friends.  But when another woman needs support, whether it be help reporting a problem or a sympathetic ear to try to figure out how to deal with a difficult boss, you owe it to YOURSELF to give her whatever she needs.  The military doesn’t teach the infantry to stick together just to promote good social skills.  Don’t ever leave anyone behind and you won’t get left behind.

Time’s Up

Part I – Them

The recent Harvey Weinstein revelations, #metoo movement, and Time’s Up campaign have had a number of consequences, most of them quite fabulous.  Let’s start by saying that I have ZERO problem with the fact that a bunch of actresses finally brought attention to a problem a lot of us have faced for years.  Some women I know have complained that women in “fluffy” jobs are celebrating victory when women all over the world have been suffering with this scourge for millennia.  Seriously?  Do we care who caused the tide to turn?  I don’t.  If little green female leprechauns happen to be the ones to breach the dam of harassment because they complained about the male leprechauns grabbing their lucky charms, I don’t care.  Kudos to Ashley Judd and Reese Witherspoon and the others for speaking for all of us.  I’d thank them in person with a vat of chocolate chip cookies if I could.

Not surprisingly, the scandals have led to a lot of men claiming to not understand the rules.  Some of these guys are sincere and concerned that they have been doing things inadvertently that might make women uncomfortable.  Some of the men are irritated that they don’t get to do whatever they want and complain that the new rules are “just too hard to figure out.” As usual, they try to put the shadow of blame on us by characterizing our complaints as vague and arbitrary.  They attempt to cast us as insensitive by insinuating that we’re no longer receptive to “nice” gestures.  Other guys feign ignorance and innocence and claim the nuances are just too difficult for the average guy to comprehend.  And still others are just hateful sexists who don’t care whether they make us uncomfortable and use the controversy to fuel their misogyny.

My favorite comments are from guys who very obviously understand what is suitable and what isn’t but claim that “There are just too many gray areas.”  Really? I think in most cases the gray areas are products of willful confusion.  For every guy who truly is trying to understand where the boundaries in his professional relationships should be, there are two guys who profess not to know whether or not they should be putting their hands on the thighs of young female employees. “What?  That’s a problem?  I can’t believe you’re faulting me for showing a gesture of comfort to my young, inexperienced subordinate.” Right.

For these poor, well-meaning, caring individuals, I offer the following test.  Cut it out and hand it out as necessary when this question arises.  When a guy is really confused about whether or not to do/say something to one of his female colleagues or employees, tell him to ask himself the following questions:

 

1.  Would you tell your wife about it?

2.  Would it be okay if another guy did/said it to your daughter?

3.  Would you publish it in your church bulletin or company newsletter?

If the answer to any of these questions is No, then DON’T DO IT. If you’re not sure, then DON’T DO IT. See how easy that was?

 

If a guy starts to come up with clarification questions or comments (i.e. “Do you mean would I describe it in detail?” “Does it matter how old my daughter is?”), you know he doesn’t really want to know the true answer.  Those are the guys who aren’t really asking to understand – they’re asking to try to prove why their historic pattern of behavior was okay.

On the other hand, there are a lot of very nice, caring guys out there who actually are concerned and well-meaning when they put a hand on your shoulder to ask if you’re okay.  They tell you that you look fabulous today because it always puts a smile on your face.  And they help you with your coat and give you a hand to get up from your chair because they weren’t raised by wolves.  We have to appreciate the good intentions and manners lest we drive them away forever.

Actually, communication is a tool that men easily could use in these situations, but they don’t.  If a man is not sure if it bothers his young female protégée when he takes her hand to help her out of the car, he can ask her.  Direct communication is a revolutionary concept, but is rarely used, particularly by people in the engineering profession.  (We’re not known for our social prowess).  We women have to be receptive to such questions and answer honestly.  If it looks like your boss is trying to be a good guy, help him out.

The concept that actually is difficult to grasp for men in supervisory positions is that a subordinate woman might feel she has to comply with whatever her boss does or she’ll lose her job.  This feeling may not be evident to the boss…at all.  But a 22-year-old brand new female employee is still a novice in the world, and her perception of the power structure at work might lead her to believe that her job would be in jeopardy if she expressed how she felt about her interactions with her boss.  As such, the boss should ALWAYS err on the side of caution.  Is it really necessary to pat a young engineer on the back when he tells her she did a good job?  Must he tell the young project manager that she looks great in that outfit?  It’s not essential to the job and the supervisor doesn’t know the employee well, the answer is no.  If it’s going to create all of this mental angst and confusion (for both the supervisor and the employee), why do it?

As a caveat, it should be stated that there are many, many male and female professionals who have longstanding friendships with members of the opposite sex, (contrary to what you learned in When Harry Met Sally).  Theoretically, if you have a good friend who is not your superior or subordinate, the lines of communication are open, and a guy can ask a woman, “Can I put my hand there or does that offend you?”  If she can’t give him an honest answer, they aren’t really friends.

The problem of sexual harassment is not simple, and no one set of rules can answer every conceivable question.  But the cat is out of the bag, the worms are out of the can, the grout has busted out of the pipe.  We need to have a real dialogue with those great, quality guys we work with every day, to help them understand how to move from unsuitable cultural customs to behaviors that benefit all of us.  For the rest of the guys, the ones who “just don’t understand,” we’ll make flash cards.

When One Gate Closes, Another Opens

And In Second Place…

First Runner Up in our anniversary contest, Lucky Nagarajan is a powerhouse in a tiny package, a true spitfire.  She is never without a smile and tackles every new task with a positive attitude.  She obtained her Master of Science in Geotechnical Engineering at the University of Texas at Arlington and since then has been flexing her dirt muscles all over the United States.  She currently is Business Development Manager and official Skirt in Dirt for Skyline Steel.  If you know her, Elizabeth Taylor in “Giant” (1956) will come to mind as you read this story.

Lucky’s Story:

Being in the field was and is still fascinating to me. Just getting up at the crack of dawn and working till the last ray of daylight, safety meetings, no restrictions to working in extreme conditions (well most of the time), working with people of different cultures and personalities, etc. The list can go on and on. Another best part about my field life was that I got to visit some of the remote locations of the country. Everyday posted a new and interesting challenge.

A few years ago, I was in Aberdeen, SD for a project. It was October and winter was starting to kick in. I checked in to the hotel and saw pheasant “bird” pictures, awards, beautiful taxidermy birds and noticed safe hunting posters in the lobby. It was late in the night, I was totally exhausted and cold, so I didn’t feel curious enough to ask about any of this. After “not so good” sleep, I came down to get breakfast bright and early. I see only men in the breakfast area in camouflaged clothing. They all looked up at the same time to see who I am. Not knowing what is happening, I asked the courteous lady who offers me piping hot coffee what’s going on. It happens to be the first day of pheasant hunting in good old Aberdeen. Curiosity got my ear and I started listening to people’s conversations. I got to know successful and not so successful stories about their hunting, challenges of transporting the meat after skinning the animals and so on and so forth. This is like entering an unknown, exciting world of Americans to me. So I finished my breakfast and headed out to the site.

In Aberdeen, once you leave the college town, you don’t see too many people around. Miles and miles of flat farm lands, houses every mile or 2, dogs outside the house just waiting for their owners to let them in the house, horses and cows happy to see daylight and eating away;  I am enjoying the rising sun. Winter is beautiful even in this tiny little town.

Finally, with help from my GPS on the phone and borrowed Garmin, I reached the site. There was a crew on site already waiting to start our safety meeting. I saw the truck but no human beings. The farmer at the site had his cattle for grazing out in the open and strong barb wire fence to avoid losing them. I drove up to the manmade fence gate, got out of my car and tried to open it. If you know what I am talking about, these are not like any other fence gate, where you have a latch or have a handle. Mostly, it is a loop of barb wire that is attached to a moving post. You drag this moving post to the stationary post and then throw the barb wire loop onto the stationary post. This loop goes over the stationary post almost 1/3rd of the length of the post itself. Finally, I got it open and drove in. Now, the next thing is to close it so the cows don’t get out.

If you have seen me, you know how tiny I am. This type of fence gate usually needs a good amount of muscle on you to close. I struggled for a few minutes then realized this is definitely not my cup of tea. I walked down to the area where the crew was and shared my dilemma. These guys were somewhat young and huge compared to me. They were surprised to see a female from a different country and someone as tiny as I am. One of them agreed to go over to close the gate.

Without any further delay, we started our safety meeting. First question they asked me was “How old are you?” I was taken aback and not sure what to say. Of course, it made me feel very young and I contemplated if I should really disclose my age to the strangers. I smiled at them and went on with our meeting. I figured out that our roles were independent on this site and they might be done with their task before me. So, before we get to our tasks, I asked them politely to somehow keep the gate open so that I don’t have to battle with it again.

I started getting everything I needed out of the trunk. One of the guys came up to me and said, “So, where do you stand? Boyfriend, engaged, separated or divorced”.  I am mortified to answer this question. I am thinking, “Who are you? Should I answer his question?” Then to be polite, I told him, “I am married.” The guy asked, “Happily married?” I was even more confused, but I said yes with a smile! Then the guys asked, “Do you have any sisters?” I burst out laughing. Then I told him that I do have a sister and she is happily married too. The guy gave me a flirty smile and told me I can join him for a drink if I am in mood for after work. I thanked him for the invitation and went on with my work.

They finished their task and sometime when I am not paying attention, left the site. If you have worked in the wind industry, you know sites are not right next to each other. Sites may be few miles apart. I finished my task, packed up everything that was scattered around the test area and started driving towards the entrance. As I was getting close to the fence gate, I realized that the gate was closed.

I started thinking about how to close the gate once I drive out of the site. What do I have in my car that can help me close it? Also, I wondered if I could call someone from the crew to come back and close the gate for me. After our first interaction, I think maybe it’s a good idea. So, I called the guys to know their whereabouts. They were about 20 minutes away which means it will be 20 minutes to drive in to free me and drive back to where they were. I needed another option.

During all this time, what I didn’t notice is that the cattle were gathering around my car to see what was happening. This is not good. If I left the gate even slightly open, that meant they could get out. In the midst of all this, it’s starts to snow and believe me I LOVE snow. However, not this time. I battled with the fence gate and barb wire loop for more than 10 minutes. I got the post close to the opening but I couldn’t pull it enough to throw the barb wire loop on the post. Then, I realized my arms were too short and I had no strength at all. I saw a house a mile or so down the road. I thought about walking up to the house to get some help, but then what if the cattle got out? Not a good idea.

Now, I needed a Plan B. Plan B is to stop any vehicle driving by and ask for help. So, I drove out and parked my car few inches from the gate and stood at the edge of the grassy entrance. I was wearing my fluorescent safety vest and I am positive that everyone could notice me from a mile away. In these parts of the town, people just don’t drive cars that often. You mostly see farmers’ tractors driving 5 miles per hour. Time went by and I don’t know how long I stood there before I saw a tractor down the road. So I was all excited and start jumping up and down, waving at the tractor. The tractor started getting closer and closer and suddenly turned right and faded away. Then time went by and I saw a medium sized car down the road and of course, I got excited again. I was praying for the car not to turn right. The car started getting closer and closer and the driver happened to zoom past without noticing me at all. But I still kept waving at him and realized I need to find another way.

Now I started thinking about Plan C. A few minutes went by and then I heard an engine roaring in the background. I turned around and there was a truck coming my way down the road. What a sight to the eyes. I realized there were a few survey flags in my car. I got them from the trunk and started waving at the truck. The truck slowed down as it got closer and stopped! Hip Hip hooray! I felt the weight off my shoulder. So the guy rolled down the window and looked at me with a blank stare.  I noticed them all decked up in camouflaged clothing coming back from their hunting trip. He and his friend/partner in the truck were not sure how to react to the situation. Then I started explaining them how it was so difficult to close the gate and if they would help me close it. The driver got out of the truck and closed the gate for me. I thanked him 5 times before he got back in the truck and drove away. But there was no exchange of pleasantries on his part.

Even today, when I see hunters or people in camouflaged clothing, a smile creeps up on my face and I thank them in my mind for stopping to help a stranger.

I Can Do That

My Favorite Things

Early summer brings many of my favorite things.  I get to visit the local nursery and spend way too much money on every annual flower that catches my eye.  Lunches, dinners, cocktails, brunches, and even afternoon coffee take place outside on patios, piazzas, decks, and sidewalks. And sundresses and espadrilles are parts of a daily uniform.

But one of my absolute favorite early summer occurrences is the annual emergence of young, eager new male construction workers on all my jobsites.  Wait – did I just say male workers?  Is this going to be the start of a new, lecherous, politically incorrect phase in the life of Underpinnings?  As interesting as that sounds (and lucrative), alas, the truth is much simpler and more wholesome.

Every year, young men everywhere graduate from high school and follow their fathers and uncles and grandfathers and mothers along a natural path into a wide variety of construction trades.  These guys usually, if not always, are amazing examples of self-confidence and enthusiasm.  They volunteer for every task.  They say, “I can do that” with unabashed ease.  They take pride in outlifting and outdigging and outworking everyone around them.  And they eat everything in sight, constantly talking about and thinking about food.

(There might be some girls who enter the construction field when they graduate from high school, but I haven’t run into them on my jobsites.  And I would bet that those few that are out there, somewhere, don’t have the ten-feet-tall-and-bulletproof attitude of their male counterparts).

Of course they have their obstacles.  The older guys hide their tools.  The jaded, experienced workers scoff at their swagger and interject a thousand cynical retorts for every ambitious proclamation. And the young guys’ inexperience and hubris often trips them up as they try to climb to the top in 20 seconds.

Regardless of their faults, I love these guys.  I am in awe of their complete lack of angst.  They don’t worry about letting anyone down.  They don’t agonize about whether or not they can handle their jobs.  They don’t overanalyze every co-worker’s words to determine if anyone is secretly disappointed in their performances or upset with them. And I think it goes without saying that any sane person would envy the ability to down three sausage egg biscuits and be hungry 30 minutes later.

Conversely, I have noticed that most women, when entering a new position or moving up into a new role, proceed at a much more cautious pace.  We worry that we’re not smart enough or efficient enough or resourceful enough to do our jobs. The normally low buzz of panic and self-doubt that is the background music in our brains swells to a roar of incessant trepidation. Instead of being thrilled to have a new opportunity, we’re scared.  We don’t need obstacles to crop up; we imagine them and spend all of our time dodging their looming specters in our brains.

The role of biology might have a partial role in this gender difference, particularly for women who are in male-dominated fields.  We have the responsibility to nurture and protect our offspring, so we have to be a little less damn-the-torpedoes in our approach to life.  We also have to be careful in a world where we’re typically smaller and weaker than the opposite sex.

My older brother would say that this natural caution is not natural at all, because he believes that there is no nature in the nature versus nurture debate, only nurture.  His theory is that men and women would behave exactly the same if they were treated identically from birth.  I don’t agree with him, but many people do.  I believe that biology is part of the equation, but social development contributes as well.  And maybe that’s where we can advance.  A little bit of evolution in how we raise our daughters could produce a little less angst and a little more “I can do that!” We can do so many great things when we think about our jobs in terms of opportunity rather than potential failure.

My best friend (we’ll call her Environmental Girl, or EG for short) is a great example of how far a woman can go when she doesn’t hold herself back.  A number of years ago, her company successfully bid on an environmental remediation project at an abandoned army airfield on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean populated only by endangered birds.  (The blue footed booby frequently holds raves on the airstrip).  The project would last several months, and the crew would travel to the island and stay there for the duration. No TV or radio, and hot coffee only when there was enough generator time available.  EG said, “I want to go!”

This might seem bold, but it was particularly fearless given that her youngest daughter would be only 5 months old when the project would start. What??????

Many, many people said she was crazy.  Her mother told her she was going straight to hell and she would need any profit from the job to pay for her infant daughter’s inevitable astronomical therapy costs when she got older.  Female colleagues expressed shock and ran home to embrace their kids.  But besides the fact that EG’s husband was a completely capable caregiver, as were her other 142 kids who all lived at home, the project only spanned a short time period. And it was a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! So she said yes, and she went. Damn more than the torpedoes – damn the whole fleet.

The experience was phenomenal, and EG learned things about herself she never would have otherwise.  I am pleased to report that the endangered infant has grown into a daring chip off the adventurous old block, and she might be inclined to take on a project in the middle of the Pacific or take a position as chief of staff for the president of an international company and never doubt herself.  When we doubt ourselves and hesitate to take chances and always put ourselves last, we teach our daughters to do the same. When we go after what we want and trust ourselves to be enough, we increase the chances that they will succeed.

Not every situation warrants a fearless attitude.  Caution has its place. But self-confidence shouldn’t be an unknown quantity to women in the work world.  We shouldn’t spend our time worrying about what we might do wrong, we should envision how high we can fly. Repeat after me – I can do that!

How Did You Get Here?

Diluting Workforce Quality for the Better…Or Not

How did you get where you are?  No, I’m not referring to your route to work this morning or whether you took a plane or a train to get to the conference you’re attending or how you managed to sneak out of the office to go shoe shopping. (But bravo to you, and find me some of those cute Jeffrey Campbell mules, would you?) How did you achieve your position?  Was it years and years of 80-hour weeks and steady promotions? Did you take advantage of an equal opportunity hiring program?  Or did you poison your previous supervisor?  Don’t worry – there are no right answers here.

A friend of mine who works for a large company recently told me that her engineering manager decided the company needs more female engineers.  She then was told that a recent hire of that very gender would be joining her group and would report directly to my friend.  Hooray, right?  Do that girl power cheer right there at your desk (or in front of the Manolo Blahnik display).  This could be considered particularly good news given that my friend is quite the glass ceiling breaking pioneer herself. But, alas, her expression as she relayed the news didn’t hint at any joy.  In fact, she was downright moribund.

After I persuaded her that tomorrow was another day and those Yankees can’t hurt us anymore*, she explained that the new hire was less than sterling.  In fact, she was difficult to work with, defensive, unresourceful, and prickly. These characteristics had revealed themselves in short order as soon as the new employee had started work.  In fact, administrative personnel even had complained about her.  And now my friend was tasked with molding this young professional into a productive and valuable team member.  Have you ever tried to mold brick?  My friend was understandably torn between wanting to advocate more women in technical positions and envisioning numerous scenarios in which a freak act of nature demolished the company building and her new hire was the only unfortunate casualty.

This situation highlights the always pertinent question of whether equal opportunity programs are a help or a hindrance. It is an intensely complicated issue, and the answer varies significantly based on the year and the location.

Many years ago, highly qualified (and pleasant) women and minorities didn’t have the opportunity to even apply for many jobs, particularly positions in technical fields.  There was no question of unqualified applicants slipping through the system because most women and minorities couldn’t even get close to the system.  Applying for a job was almost a humorous proposition.

A prime example is a very prominent geo-structural engineer who applied for a position at a consulting firm in the early 1970s when she graduated from engineering school.  She reported to the firm’s office and chatted with the principal engineer for a short time about the company and what type of work the firm did.  As lunch approached, he apologized profusely and said a job emergency had come up and that his secretary would be taking her to lunch.  The young engineer happily went to lunch, not knowing whether such an occurrence was normal or not.  When she returned to the office, the boss found her, apologized again, and said it was time to talk about her desired position.  He then led off by asking how many words a minute she typed.  “Excuse me?” she said, confused.  “I don’t really know.”  He was appalled that she didn’t know and asked how she possibly could expect to get a job without being able to present her credentials.  She timidly inquired how typing would figure into an engineering job, which brought the boss up short.  “You’re here for an engineering job???  But you’re a…I mean…Are you serious?”  Rest assured our outstanding young engineer left that interview and went on to do quite fabulous things.  She still doesn’t know how many words a minute she types.

In such an environment, it was necessary to pave the way to allow women and minorities a chance at, well, a chance. I can say from personal experience that the interviewing environment is not so harsh today, and it wasn’t even that awful 15 years ago.

So the initial barrier has been broken.  Does that mean we still need help?  Are equal opportunity programs, both formal and informal, necessary? Or are we now setting ourselves backwards by forcing unqualified applicants into the pool in the name of equal numbers? Even worse, are we creating doubt about even the qualified candidates by diluting the quality of the overall disadvantaged workforce?  The answer is nowhere near easy.

Of course you could say that there are plenty of sub-par and unpleasant representatives of the white male workforce, so why should we be any different?  Maybe we shouldn’t be.  In fact, that’s the general idea.  If the percentage of women and men in any profession correlates to the general percentage of each gender in society, both groups should have some rude, insecure idiots in most fields.  But do we want to force our idiots into some roles just to balance the ranks?  Or do we want to reinforce our progress by concentrating on maintaining the quality of our gender in professional positions? As I said in the beginning, there are no right answers.

It is possible that the young lady my friend will be beating managing is brittle and defensive because she has grown up in a sexist, repressed environment.  She hailed from a small rural community, so maybe her original ebullient personality was dimmed by a barrage of oppression and denied opportunities.  Maybe she’ll turn into a shining star of an employee once she finds security and acceptance among her peers.  I’m a perpetual optimist, so I like to think this might happen to an upbeat soundtrack followed by a cygnet-to-swan montage showing her transformation into a new engineering star. This is the theory behind equal opportunity programs.

There is a stronger possibility that my friend has been saddled with her own personal albatross, and this young woman’s troubles are simply the product of really bad genes and bitter parents.  Although a great job opportunity can sometimes turn a person around, it is more likely that we will soon be making an advent calendar-ish wall hanging to creatively mark the days until her inevitable termination.

The question of equal opportunity probably is one that must be determined for each specific circumstance, defying convenient sweeping conclusions.  Should we throw a party someday when we can say that there are as many female idiots in engineering and construction as male idiots? (Minorities, I’m not going to speak for you, but you’re in the same boat). I’m usually first in line to plan any party, but I don’t know that I’ll be ordering the centerpieces for this one.

*In order to understand many of the references in my Underpinnings pieces, you really should be familiar with football terminology and the classics, starting with Gone with the Wind.  Move on to Love Actually, The Mummy, When Harry Met Sally, and The Devil Wears Prada after that.  This is the bare minimum, but I can provide a full curriculum upon request.

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