Tackling Tough Topics: Microaggressions and Being an Ally
My recent post on #microaggressions sparked some interesting emails and comments, along with a record number of views, so it looks like that topic struck a nerve. I was first introduced to the concept by Steven Young, through his work and book on Micro Messaging. Micro-messages are the gestures, facial expressions, tones of voice, word choices, eye contact, and interactive nuances that can be either debilitating or empowering to employees and to the power of leadership. Microaggressions take it a step further and are those subtle indignities that signal prejudicial slights and insults.
The Center for Health Journalism reports that research on microaggressions provides strong evidence that they lead to elevated levels of depression and trauma among minorities, as well as causal links to suicidal thoughts, negative health effects, and undermining trust in service providers. Dr. Pragya Agarwal writes in How Microaggressions Can Affect Wellbeing in the Workplace that, “The fourth Annual Women in the Workplace report from LeanIn.Org and McKinsey & Co highlighted the gender-based microaggressions still faced by women in the 2018 workforce and showed that 64% of women are still exposed to this form of discrimination, with non-white women experiencing it the more than anyone else. Often, such microinvalidations and aggressions are disguised as humor.”
In a conversation this week with my long-time friend and colleague Yolanda Owens, an accomplished Black HR leader, we were talking about micro-messages and microaggressions and their effect on women in the workplace, along with what it means to be an ally right now to the Black community. Yolanda was wondering why her white friends weren’t showing up as allies. It was a good question and one I didn’t have a ready answer for. That started a whole chain of thinking on what it means to be an ally, and how can I specifically show up in support of others. The intersectionality of microaggressions, sexism, race, gender, orientation, and any number of other factors is huge and overlapping and complex. That conversation also got me thinking about the microaggressions that I’ve faced, and frankly just flat out aggressions that I’ve encountered in life and the workplace when other people tried to put me in categories such as existing for their pleasure, being less than, being a whore, or not mattering at all. The point being that if I’ve faced these, as a white educated female with access and privilege, then what must it be like for those without? While I can never know what it is like to be in your shoes, if sharing my story helps even one person feel less alone, less scared, and less isolated then that is a step in the right direction, a step towards showing up as your ally.
You are here for my pleasure:
I was told not to wear pants by my boss, the Finance Controller, because he liked his girls in skirts. I was 17 years old.
The COO at a now-defunct spinoff division of PepsiCo put his hand down my dress at the company Christmas party. Others saw it happen and laughed it off as, “oh that’s just so-and-so!”
At another company, at the team Halloween lunch party, the Sr. VP of HR walked up to me and said, “nice pussy.” I was wearing a pair of cat ears and had a tail pinned to my slacks. He walked away chuckling to himself about his clever use of words. I was left with my face burning in shame in front of my teammates. Later I was told that I wouldn’t be getting any retention stock options because I wasn’t one of his “favorites”. Were the two events connected? I don’t know. Did it impact my performance and confidence? You better believe it.
At a sales conference, I was followed back to my hotel room by a well-respected senior manager and had to forcefully push him off my body when he wouldn’t leave me alone and take no for an answer. He laughed it off the next day. I’ll bet you a million dollars that he doesn’t remember doing it and doesn’t recall my name. I’ve never forgotten it or the feeling of being trapped by his heavy body and drunk breath. I know exactly who he is and I see him on Facebook, married, with a daughter.
An HR executive repeatedly pressed me for 1:1s in order to “get to know me better”, said while staring at my chest. He was known as the “chest talker” at work and yet he kept getting promoted, every time accompanied by write-ups on how he exemplified the company values.
My first boss at a tech company demanded I meet him at the office at midnight to work on a spreadsheet. We were alone in the building. I was scared to death. He leaned over my chair the entire time so he could “watch how I did it.” I had such bad anxiety working for him that I thought I had an ulcer.
At various times I have been told that my job was to shut up and look pretty, smile more, smile less, talk more, talk louder, or stop talking all together.
You are less than:
I have worked in other countries where I was the minority. I have had, on many occasions, people touch me, touch my hair and skin, make comments about me, and take my picture because I looked different. I felt like a zoo animal on display. It was a tremendously eye-opening experience as to what others must feel like on a daily basis here in the US.
At the entrance to work I was selected for a full bag search, EVERY.SINGLE.DAY, by a particular security guard in India, who claimed not to remember me from one day to the next. He would take pleasure in slowly pulling all of my belongings out of my bag and holding them up for the world to see. Everyday. While everyone else just walked by and showed their badge to get in the building.
I received fewer benefits than male colleagues on expatriate assignments because I didn’t know to negotiate for them.
When I bought my first house at 29, I was asked repeatedly by the title company if my father or husband was going to attend the closing with me. I was unmarried and my father had nothing to do with me buying the house. They simply could not comprehend that a single female could buy a house by herself.
I took my car to a local oil change shop and the man at the counter took my information from the computer system and called me repeatedly to ask me for a date. I had to change my phone number.
You must be a whore (yeah, I said it):
I was asked point blank if I was a whore and how much I charged because I was wearing a pager in a hotel. I was required to wear a pager for work and was staying at the hotel on business.
It was assumed that I was a whore and was approached by men wanting services because I wanted to have dinner and a drink, alone, in a hotel restaurant while on business travel. It soon became clear that I could only eat safely alone in my hotel room.
There was a rumor started that I was indeed a whore because I was interviewing candidates at hotels and so must also be sleeping with them while I was there. I was interviewing people at well-known hotels because the office was located so far outside of town that there was no public transportation and candidates had a difficult time getting to the office. Other peers thought the rumor was funny, and to my knowledge not one person stepped in to stop it.
My boss, a woman many years my senior, started a vicious rumor about me having an affair with a man in another department (a nice man who was married, and someone I barely knew) because she felt threatened by me. I was 26 and brand new to the company. Thinking about the level of vitriol she showed me made my stomach churn then and still does now. I used to fantasize about getting into an accident so I wouldn’t have to go into work and face her. Who would I have complained to? She was the VP of HR and the General Counsel.
Your needs don’t matter:
I was excited to take a much-anticipated one-week vacation. I had put in many weeks of planning, including letting all of my clients know that I would be gone and the backup procedures while I was gone, and had ensured backup coverage for my emails and phone calls. My work phone, a Blackberry, did not have service outside of the US, so I happily shut it off and had a great time away. For one week. After I returned, I received a severe dressing down from my boss who told me that I was “NEVER to not be available” because someone had a question while I was gone and couldn’t reach me. That same boss took a month off each summer.
I was told that I was going to lose my job, even though I was the top performer in my group, because someone else had a family to support and I did not.
I was cornered at a party by a drunk male relative who demanded that I stop with the “business nonsense” and start making babies.
I was introduced by a male relative to his fiancée as “the corporate bitch.”
In college I was thrilled to be recommended by the chair of the Economics department to work with one of the leading economists in the world. I was over the moon about the honor. I left my great job in the Dean’s office, with their approval, to join the new firm. On the first day I was told that my job would be to fetch Dr. So-and-So’s dry cleaning and answer his phone. But I had been told that my job would be doing research and contributing to economic white papers. They just laughed and said, “yeah, that’s what we had to say to get you to take the job. Now go get his dry cleaning.” I was horrified. I quit three days later and tearfully called the Dean’s office to beg for my job back. They had already given me the goodbye party with cake! Yet I’m the one who carried the shame and responsibility and guilt of having let down the department chair.
I asked my boss if I could have some flexibility at work due to childcare schedules and was told “absolutely not, that will not work here.” Even though other people at work did. I had to quit my job, in large part, because I married a man who came with two school-aged kids and I couldn’t figure out how to make it work without employing a nanny. Unbelievable. I know of zero men who’ve had to quit their jobs because they are married with children.
The sad thing is that, for the most part, I thought this was just how work was. I thought it was just tough and these things happened and that my job was to just suck it up and get through it. When the going got too tough I’m the one who left, but thank goodness that I had the agency to leave – the choice and option to leave, the ability to find another job. I did the opposite of the leaning in that Sheryl Sandberg wants women to do. Thinking back now, I wonder what my career could have been? Why should I have been the one to leave? I look at my colleagues who stayed at those name-brand companies and were rewarded with hefty pay packages and titles that I will never catch up to.
Interestingly, the women I asked to provide feedback on this post said that similar things had happened to them. The men said this was shocking and they had no idea this stuff was going on. I have had other colleagues ask why I didn’t say anything, why I didn’t go to HR for help. I was in the HR function and it was HR executives who were often the perpetrators. I chose keeping my job and not rocking the boat rather than holding someone accountable for reprehensible behavior. That’s what micro and macroaggressions do: they wear you down and silence you. With years of hindsight and reflection, here’s what I would tell my younger self: you matter, you are worthy, and some jerk manager is not going to determine your career. Stand up for yourself, even if it is hard. No one is above reproach, and nobody gets a hall pass – not the VP of HR, not the COO, not the General Counsel. I should have screamed from the mountain top what was happening. Thank goodness we are in an environment now of more awareness where people might, just might, be more willing to pay attention, listen, and take action on these behaviors.
This is in no way meant to be a pity party for me, and I am well aware that unfortunately many, many people have dealt with far worse. But y’all, I am so angry and sad about this! We have got to do better and expect better and not tolerate this. We have got to be especially watchful of those without access and privilege who might encounter this and have no agency. This is not ok. This is not just how work is.
There were notable people along the way, both male and female, who did see value and potential in me and who had tremendous influence over my career. Susan Nurre, Rocky Mountain, Lynne Farlow, Jeanine Kestler, and Angela Woodland are just a few of the people who made a difference and who fought battles of their own. Thank you.
I started my own business over 8 years ago and now have the opportunity to nurture and be in the company of other strong women. I am working towards being an ally and standing next to Yolanda. Standing next to another friend, a female VP, who only last week was sharing her frustration of being jerked around by a male executive and a company president who was turning a blind eye to the situation. Being an ally and standing next to you. I might not get it right on the first try, but I want you to know that I am trying. I want other women to know that I see you and you matter to me.
Let me know if any of this sounds familiar, if you have ever felt less than by a microaggression, or if you are a leader who is sick of this crap and wants to put a stake in the ground and say this ends now. If you are a leader, male or female, I urge you to start an honest conversation with your teams about what microaggressions are, how and when they are happening and then be the leader who has the courage to stop them. That’s a step towards being a real ally.