I am not a snarky person. I get that snark can be funny. I don't even really dislike snark, at least in moderation- after all, I married a man whom I have christened "Mr. Snarky" on my blog. I laugh at many snarky things. But I do not normally feel inclined to be snarky about people or events, even people with whom I disagree and events that I dislike.
I've never really given much thought to why that is until a couple of recent things got me thinking.
First, Laura Vanderkam had a post about the recent Stephanie Coontz article about gender equality. One of the comments was about how there is a lack of "how" information out there for ambitious young women looking to combine career and motherhood. Long time readers will probably remember that I've written some posts on the topic. But I find myself steering away from such posts these days. As I commented on Laura's post, I find that dealing with the negative comments that these posts occasionally attract is a drain on my energy. I'd rather spend that energy on making my life successful (by my definition), and not on defending my life online. So I just don't write those posts as often as I used to.
I kept thinking about this after I wrote the comment, because it is sort of a contradiction. In real life, I'm pretty passionate about mentoring younger people and helping them navigate from school to career, and on. I am willing to take time off work to do this. I am willing to take some risks to speak out. But here, on my anonymous blog, I'm not willing to put up with a few snarky comments?
And that's when it hit me. I don't really mind the people who write straightforward comments telling me that they disagree with my post, even if those comments are a bit sharp. I've learned things from those comments, and consider the chance to have an honest discussion about topics we usually skirt in conversation one of the advantages of blogging.
But I really, really dislike the snarky comments. I apparently have a hard time being held up to ridicule. And gee, when I put it like that, I guess it is no surprise. So then the bigger question is, why do some commenters feel the need to ridicule me and other women like me? I do not know the answer to that one, but they have succeeded in silencing me on some topics, and now that I've realized that, maybe I am not OK with it.
--------------------------------
Around the same time, there was a lot of discussion about the Oscars, and Quvenzhané Wallis and the disgusting tweet someone at The Onion wrote about her. If you have somehow missed that story, here is a good summary. I actually do believe that The Onion staffer was trying to make a fair and useful point about the way our culture- including the man hosting the Oscars- talks about women and girls. But oh my God, this was not the way to do it. That tweet really bothered me, and I couldn't really explain why (beyond the obvious "what a horrible thing to say about a 9 year old girl, even in jest" sort of thing).
Then I read this article on the subject by Sabrina James, and the sick, angry feeling I had about that tweet made more sense to me. I was angry because of the way the snark that is so pervasive in our culture right now was reaching out to touch a child who had done nothing at all to deserve it. And I realized that we're using snark to police people, to put them back in the places we expect them to occupy. I've become enured to it as an adult woman, but seeing this applied to a 9 year old snapped me out of my complaisance.
We should encourage all of our children- boys and girls- to shine in whatever way is right for them. We should applaud their accomplishments and lift them up, not tear them down. We should give them a chance to grow their confidence before we ask them to hold their heads up and face down the uglier aspects of the culture into which they were born. We cannot- and should not- protect them from criticism. But I think that it is fair to expect the adults in the world to pitch that criticism gently, and to aim it at helping our children reach to even greater heights, not at putting them back in whatever place our preconceptions have made for them.
I know that tweet was not actually about Quvenzhané Wallis at all. But by using her for comedic effect, that Onion staffer caught her in the snark. By all means, critique the misogyny in our society, and the cruel way in which female celebrities are discussed. Don't do it by ridiculing a 9 year old girl, though. Let her have her big night unsullied by our grown up issues. In fact, don't do it by ridiculing any female celebrity. They are not to blame for the misogyny, and do not deserve to feel the sting of that ridicule. Aim the ridicule where it belongs. If that is too hard to do, then find a different way to make the statement.
--------------------------------
I am not saying that someone writing a snarky comment on the blog of a fairly privileged working mother is in the same league as the person who wrote that tweet. Not by a long shot. But they are playing the same game. They are hiding behind humor while pushing people back into their predefined boxes. Personally, I don't want to be part of that. I think snark and satire have their place in our discourse, but I don't trust myself to come down on the right side of the line between helpful commentary and policing other people's place in society, so I guess I'll stick with my hopelessly unhip earnest style of commentary. And maybe I'll start writing about the "hows" of working motherhood again. I don't like being told my place.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Monday, February 25, 2013
Advice for a Grad Student
Thank you all for the nice comments on my post about feeling lost in the labyrinth. Upon rereading that post, I realized it comes across as more morose than I actually feel, and that the situation at work perhaps sounds more dire than it actually is. This is one of those cases where the limitations on what I'm willing to write in a public blog hamper useful discourse. I'm neither going to lose nor quit my job anytime soon, but I do have some new things to think about as I ponder how I want to try to steer my career.
But enough about me and my career angst! Let's talk about someone else's career angst. I got an email from someone who signs herself "a pessimistic grad student." Here's the letter:
---------------------------------
I’m a female PhD student in a natural science. I originally entered graduate school because I wanted to teach and conduct research. I knew the job market wasn’t great, and that women still had mountains to climb, but it seemed scalable. Now, the further along I get, the more insurmountable the challenges appear to be.
Any words of wisdom are much appreciated,
1. First, a question: Are you a third year grad student? The tone of this letter is very similar to what I might have written in my third year, although the specific content is quite different. I found third year to be the peak of my angst in graduate school. I have always attributed that to the fact that I was far enough into my graduate career that the reality of the work ahead of me had sunk in, but I wasn't far enough in yet to see how it would all come together. The analogy I use is that it is like being in a tunnel and you are far enough in that you can't see the light behind you, but not far enough along to see the light at the other end. I found it very discouraging. Clearly, I decided to soldier on and eventually got my PhD and I am glad I did. But at the time, I had serious doubts.
2. Next, a general comment: It is OK to get a PhD just to get a PhD, even if you suspect that you will eventually go a different direction with your career. As I've written before, I've had jobs that required the PhD and jobs that didn't. I have never once regretted finishing my PhD, and I won't regret getting my PhD even if I decide to leave science altogether at some point. The PhD gave me confidence in my ability to learn just about anything, and that confidence is a truly awesome thing to have. It gave me the experience of tackling a hard problem with an uncertain outcome and no real roadmap, and seeing it through to completion. No matter what else happens, I will not regret having that experience. A PhD is more than just job training.
3. Now, about your specific question: I would approach your dilemma by thinking about what you would regret more, staying on the current path and having it not work out, or not knowing if you could have made it to a professorship. Try to imagine how each of those things would feel, and then pursue the course that feels better. No one can figure this out except you, unfortunately.
4. Personally, I think you should aim for what you really want, but pursue your dreams in such a way that the journey itself is enjoyable. That way, if you find you can't get a prof job that works for you, or you get that prof job but then have kids and realize that you don't want to do that particular juggle, the years pursuing that dream aren't wasted, because you were doing good, interesting, and enjoyable things along the way. Note that this advice may or may not be the best advice for landing the prof job- I don't know about that. But I think it is good advice for not feeling bad about your choices.
I can look back over the course of my career and pretend that it is the culmination of a series of carefully planned out steps, but that would be a complete and utter lie. In fact, at each step along the way, I made choices based on what sounded enjoyable. Of course, I thought about long term outcomes, too, and they did factor into my decision making along the way. But I never chose to do something I really disliked just to get through to something I'd like better. (Except for when I chose to keep going in the third year of graduate school, and even then it wasn't like I hated what I was doing- I just felt overwhelmed by it.)
5. If you are nervous that you will chase the dream too long, set some limits and tell yourself that you will have an honest re-evaluation if you pass them. And don't let anyone tell you that walking away and finding something else to do is "giving up," no matter when you do that. The odds of landing a professorship are pretty crappy right now, so it isn't so much "giving up" as "failing to win the lottery."
6. Along those lines, it is probably a good idea to have a solid plan B. And possibly even some ideas about a plan C. As I've written before, I'm on at least plan C, and I am seriously contemplating chucking it all in and going for plan D. But I may not chuck it in and switch to plan D- just thinking about what plan D would be and what it would take to switch to it doesn't mean I am not committed to my current career path. It just means I am a curious person with a lot of interests, and that is OK.
If I had tried to imagine either plan C (what I am doing now) or plan D (the alternate path that is tempting me) when I was in graduate school, though, I would not have been able to do it. So don't try to think too far ahead. Options appear to you as you move through your career that would have been inconceivable just a few years earlier.
7. Whatever you decided to do, work smart. I don't just mean that in terms of learning how to be efficient and productive in a reasonable number of hours per week, but also in terms of figuring out what skills and qualifications you need to go for your goals, and then arranging your work to help you get them. Check out Cal Newport's ideas on this. I also like Laura Vanderkam's ideas about broadening your scope. Particularly if you're thinking seriously about leaving the academic path, it is hard to know what skills will turn out to be important, so there is a lot to be said for just doing things to broaden your knowledgebase. The PhD gives you the deep dive into one area, but broadening your scope can lead you to see unexpected connections or opportunities.
8. Finally, on the sexism/leaning in angle: It is not your responsibility to fix this sexist world. It just isn't. You don't owe the rest of us anything but fair treatment. No one else gets to say which battles you have to fight. If at any point your heart says walk away, do so, with a clear conscience. Deciding to pursue a different career path isn't "not leaning in." It is deciding to pursue a different career path.
However, I agree with Sheryl Sandberg that it doesn't make much sense to scale back your career goals just in the expectation that kids will hamper you, or that your chosen career won't be compatible with kids. You don't know how your fertility will be until you try to have kids. You don't really know how you'll feel about being a mother and being anything else at the same time until you have kids. You don't know what having kids while pursuing any given career will be like until you try. Given this many unknowns, I think it is best just to act like a man and assume it will all work out. If it doesn't, adjust at that point. If you've been enjoying the journey along the way, it shouldn't feel like you "wasted" any time.
Nicoleandmaggie's advice on this is spot on, in my opinion- separate your family planning decisions from your career decisions as much as you can. There is no easy way to be a mother. You can't game that system, so don't even bother trying. All you can do is try to pick the difficulties that bother you the least- and the fates don't even always let you do that. As hard as this is for analysis driven people like scientists to accept, your optimal path through the motherhood/career quandary is not something you can analyze and discover ahead of time. So just strike out in the direction that looks best to you and adjust your path as you go.
I think that covers all of my thoughts. I apologize for the disjointed nature of the advice, but I hope it is helpful. Feel free to leave questions or your own opinions in the comments!
But enough about me and my career angst! Let's talk about someone else's career angst. I got an email from someone who signs herself "a pessimistic grad student." Here's the letter:
---------------------------------
I’m a female PhD student in a natural science. I originally entered graduate school because I wanted to teach and conduct research. I knew the job market wasn’t great, and that women still had mountains to climb, but it seemed scalable. Now, the further along I get, the more insurmountable the challenges appear to be.
I’m also frustrated that gender/
motherhood still seem to hold so much sway in career prospects: women receive about half the PhDs, but
rapidly drop off in the postdoc ranks and have a low representation in tenure
track jobs (the well-referenced leaky pipeline). Part of me wants to pursue academia and fight
the good fight at a liberal arts college (not R01) type school and not
contribute to that leaky pipeline. The
other part is more jaded—with such low job availability (and even if you land a
job, terrible grant odds), it seems like the more realistic and practical
option is to pursue a non-academic path—either after a postdoc, or just
dispensing with the post-doc altogether—instead of 5+ years of frequent moves/
low job security/ lack of guaranteed retirement benefits/ maternity leave. The other factor is that non-academic jobs
may offer better ‘balance’, and be more portable. I’m also trying to balance the desire to be
close to my spouse—I draw the line at long term long distance, after doing it
before—and my desire to have kids sooner rather than later.
Non-academic jobs for my skill set tend to involve
government work (also less hiring these days) or non-profits—there isn’t really
a traditional industry option in my area (without extensive retraining),
otherwise I’d love to consider it. I
could potentially also look at teaching only (community college or non-tenure
track lectureship) jobs if I avoided the adjuncting dead-end.
I’m conflicted. I’ve
planned to pursue academia since high school (!), with no deviations along the
way. Abandoning that career path feels
like giving up on a dream. I also don’t
want to give up before I’ve really started, particularly with the ‘lean in’ mindset
of Sheryl Sandberg and others. However,
I’ve met enough older, jaded post-docs, with no career prospects in sight (at a
very highly ranked department) to make me wary of following their
footsteps.
The most logical step is likely to reconsider my direction
after a post-doc. But, I’m finding that
my pessimism is harming my enthusiasm for my work, and I’m wondering if that’s
a sign I should strike out in a different direction sooner rather than later.
Pessimistic grad student
---------------------------------
I'm not sure I have words of wisdom, but I do have some thoughts. In the interest of actually answering this letter before the writer graduates, I have decided to write them as a list rather than trying to make a well-crafted post.
I'm not sure I have words of wisdom, but I do have some thoughts. In the interest of actually answering this letter before the writer graduates, I have decided to write them as a list rather than trying to make a well-crafted post.
1. First, a question: Are you a third year grad student? The tone of this letter is very similar to what I might have written in my third year, although the specific content is quite different. I found third year to be the peak of my angst in graduate school. I have always attributed that to the fact that I was far enough into my graduate career that the reality of the work ahead of me had sunk in, but I wasn't far enough in yet to see how it would all come together. The analogy I use is that it is like being in a tunnel and you are far enough in that you can't see the light behind you, but not far enough along to see the light at the other end. I found it very discouraging. Clearly, I decided to soldier on and eventually got my PhD and I am glad I did. But at the time, I had serious doubts.
2. Next, a general comment: It is OK to get a PhD just to get a PhD, even if you suspect that you will eventually go a different direction with your career. As I've written before, I've had jobs that required the PhD and jobs that didn't. I have never once regretted finishing my PhD, and I won't regret getting my PhD even if I decide to leave science altogether at some point. The PhD gave me confidence in my ability to learn just about anything, and that confidence is a truly awesome thing to have. It gave me the experience of tackling a hard problem with an uncertain outcome and no real roadmap, and seeing it through to completion. No matter what else happens, I will not regret having that experience. A PhD is more than just job training.
3. Now, about your specific question: I would approach your dilemma by thinking about what you would regret more, staying on the current path and having it not work out, or not knowing if you could have made it to a professorship. Try to imagine how each of those things would feel, and then pursue the course that feels better. No one can figure this out except you, unfortunately.
4. Personally, I think you should aim for what you really want, but pursue your dreams in such a way that the journey itself is enjoyable. That way, if you find you can't get a prof job that works for you, or you get that prof job but then have kids and realize that you don't want to do that particular juggle, the years pursuing that dream aren't wasted, because you were doing good, interesting, and enjoyable things along the way. Note that this advice may or may not be the best advice for landing the prof job- I don't know about that. But I think it is good advice for not feeling bad about your choices.
I can look back over the course of my career and pretend that it is the culmination of a series of carefully planned out steps, but that would be a complete and utter lie. In fact, at each step along the way, I made choices based on what sounded enjoyable. Of course, I thought about long term outcomes, too, and they did factor into my decision making along the way. But I never chose to do something I really disliked just to get through to something I'd like better. (Except for when I chose to keep going in the third year of graduate school, and even then it wasn't like I hated what I was doing- I just felt overwhelmed by it.)
5. If you are nervous that you will chase the dream too long, set some limits and tell yourself that you will have an honest re-evaluation if you pass them. And don't let anyone tell you that walking away and finding something else to do is "giving up," no matter when you do that. The odds of landing a professorship are pretty crappy right now, so it isn't so much "giving up" as "failing to win the lottery."
6. Along those lines, it is probably a good idea to have a solid plan B. And possibly even some ideas about a plan C. As I've written before, I'm on at least plan C, and I am seriously contemplating chucking it all in and going for plan D. But I may not chuck it in and switch to plan D- just thinking about what plan D would be and what it would take to switch to it doesn't mean I am not committed to my current career path. It just means I am a curious person with a lot of interests, and that is OK.
If I had tried to imagine either plan C (what I am doing now) or plan D (the alternate path that is tempting me) when I was in graduate school, though, I would not have been able to do it. So don't try to think too far ahead. Options appear to you as you move through your career that would have been inconceivable just a few years earlier.
7. Whatever you decided to do, work smart. I don't just mean that in terms of learning how to be efficient and productive in a reasonable number of hours per week, but also in terms of figuring out what skills and qualifications you need to go for your goals, and then arranging your work to help you get them. Check out Cal Newport's ideas on this. I also like Laura Vanderkam's ideas about broadening your scope. Particularly if you're thinking seriously about leaving the academic path, it is hard to know what skills will turn out to be important, so there is a lot to be said for just doing things to broaden your knowledgebase. The PhD gives you the deep dive into one area, but broadening your scope can lead you to see unexpected connections or opportunities.
8. Finally, on the sexism/leaning in angle: It is not your responsibility to fix this sexist world. It just isn't. You don't owe the rest of us anything but fair treatment. No one else gets to say which battles you have to fight. If at any point your heart says walk away, do so, with a clear conscience. Deciding to pursue a different career path isn't "not leaning in." It is deciding to pursue a different career path.
However, I agree with Sheryl Sandberg that it doesn't make much sense to scale back your career goals just in the expectation that kids will hamper you, or that your chosen career won't be compatible with kids. You don't know how your fertility will be until you try to have kids. You don't really know how you'll feel about being a mother and being anything else at the same time until you have kids. You don't know what having kids while pursuing any given career will be like until you try. Given this many unknowns, I think it is best just to act like a man and assume it will all work out. If it doesn't, adjust at that point. If you've been enjoying the journey along the way, it shouldn't feel like you "wasted" any time.
Nicoleandmaggie's advice on this is spot on, in my opinion- separate your family planning decisions from your career decisions as much as you can. There is no easy way to be a mother. You can't game that system, so don't even bother trying. All you can do is try to pick the difficulties that bother you the least- and the fates don't even always let you do that. As hard as this is for analysis driven people like scientists to accept, your optimal path through the motherhood/career quandary is not something you can analyze and discover ahead of time. So just strike out in the direction that looks best to you and adjust your path as you go.
I think that covers all of my thoughts. I apologize for the disjointed nature of the advice, but I hope it is helpful. Feel free to leave questions or your own opinions in the comments!
Sunday, February 24, 2013
My Work Here is Done
Yesterday, Petunia insisted on coming with me to Pumpkin's gymnastics class. So instead of an hour to sit and read (or write!) I had an hour of trying to keep a 3 year old entertained while also occasionally checking in on Pumpkin's progress in the class.
Luckily, I remembered to bring my Kindle Fire this time. Unfortunately, some of Petunia's favorite apps are ad-supported and wouldn't work without network. (Note to self: make sure to pay for the ad-free versions in the future.) She enjoyed playing a matching game for awhile, and also had fun with an app called Slice It (which, incidentally, can also amuse Pumpkin and Mr. Snarky for long periods- I recommend it.) But she got bored with the games, and so I suggested we look at a book- we have quite a few kids books loaded on the Fire.
We picked Secret Agent Josephine's ABC's
because Petunia is in a letter-noticing phase right now.
The picture on the "V" page is of a vacuum cleaner. Petunia looked at it and said "V! For vacuum! Daddy has one of those!"
Luckily, I remembered to bring my Kindle Fire this time. Unfortunately, some of Petunia's favorite apps are ad-supported and wouldn't work without network. (Note to self: make sure to pay for the ad-free versions in the future.) She enjoyed playing a matching game for awhile, and also had fun with an app called Slice It (which, incidentally, can also amuse Pumpkin and Mr. Snarky for long periods- I recommend it.) But she got bored with the games, and so I suggested we look at a book- we have quite a few kids books loaded on the Fire.
We picked Secret Agent Josephine's ABC's
because Petunia is in a letter-noticing phase right now.The picture on the "V" page is of a vacuum cleaner. Petunia looked at it and said "V! For vacuum! Daddy has one of those!"
Friday, February 22, 2013
Weekend Reading: The Cool Things Edition
I have a growing group of links about entrepreneurship, but I'm in the mood for something more lightweight tonight. I need to remind myself of some cool things, since I've had a rough week with the whole labyrinth thing and then this morning I got email from some jerk spammer spoofing UNICEF (for some reason, this really infuriates me- using kids in need of help to try to trick me into giving out my personal info just seems like a new low, even for spammers). AND I think I'm going to have to turn CAPTCHAs back on here because I'm getting 10-20 spam comments per day. Only about 30-50% are getting past the spam filter, but I can't tell which are getting through without going and looking, and that is sucking time. So... CAPTCHAs go back on. Sorry for the eye strain, everyone. Blame the spammers.
And to restore my faith in humanity, you get a bunch of links to things I thought were cool. Entrepreneurship can wait until next week.
First of all, I cannot even say how much I love this story about the hairdresser who wrote a scholarly article on ancient hairstyles. There are so many layers of cool in this one, it makes me happy just to think about it.
Next, this story about how Diageo drastically reduced its carbon footprint reminds me of the good things that people can accomplish as part of a large company. Big companies get vilified a lot in our culture, but they can do some cool things.
Finally, this statistical analysis of the fate of different shirt colors in Star Trek is just all around awesome. (Thanks to @betzsteve for finding this one.)
Got anymore cool stuff for me? Leave it in the comments. Assuming you can read the CAPTCHA, of course.
And to restore my faith in humanity, you get a bunch of links to things I thought were cool. Entrepreneurship can wait until next week.
First of all, I cannot even say how much I love this story about the hairdresser who wrote a scholarly article on ancient hairstyles. There are so many layers of cool in this one, it makes me happy just to think about it.
Next, this story about how Diageo drastically reduced its carbon footprint reminds me of the good things that people can accomplish as part of a large company. Big companies get vilified a lot in our culture, but they can do some cool things.
Finally, this statistical analysis of the fate of different shirt colors in Star Trek is just all around awesome. (Thanks to @betzsteve for finding this one.)
Got anymore cool stuff for me? Leave it in the comments. Assuming you can read the CAPTCHA, of course.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Lost in the Labryinth
Recently, a reader sent me a link to an article in the Harvard Business Review by Alice Eagly and Linda Carli, called Women and the Labyrinth of Leadership. She said it was one of the best articles on women in leadership that she'd read in awhile, and I have to agree. It argues that the "glass ceiling" metaphor that is so often used to describe the lack of women at the very top levels of leadership is misleading:
"Times have changed, however, and the glass ceiling metaphor is now more wrong than right. For one thing, it describes an absolute barrier at a specific high level in organizations. The fact that there have been female chief executives, university presidents, state governors, and presidents of nations gives the lie to that charge. At the same time, the metaphor implies that women and men have equal access to entry- and midlevel positions. They do not. The image of a transparent obstruction also suggests that women are being misled about their opportunities, because the impediment is not easy for them to see from a distance. But some impediments are not subtle. Worst of all, by depicting a single, unvarying obstacle, the glass ceiling fails to incorporate the complexity and variety of challenges that women can face in their leadership journeys. In truth, women are not turned away only as they reach the penultimate stage of a distinguished career. They disappear in various numbers at many points leading up to that stage."
The authors advance an alternative metaphor, that of a labyrinth:
"Passage through a labyrinth is not simple or direct, but requires persistence, awareness of one’s progress, and a careful analysis of the puzzles that lie ahead. It is this meaning that we intend to convey. For women who aspire to top leadership, routes exist but are full of twists and turns, both unexpected and expected."
I think this is a very powerful metaphor that aptly captures the experience of being a woman trying to work up to positions of leadership. It is not a perfect metaphor, of course. For instance, it does not capture the fact that everyone who aspires to a position of leadership faces a labyrinth. No one has a direct path. Some people face extra challenges and different people are handed maps of differing quality at the outset, though.
Imperfect or not, this article and its metaphor showed up at an apt time in my life. I've recently realized that I'm lost in the labyrinth. For the first time in my career, I face a gender-related obstacle that I have no idea how to navigate past. Specifically, I am caught in what the article refers to as the "double bind" in which behaving in traditionally female ways ("communal" behaviors, such as being compassionate, sensitive to others, and helpful) are seen as weak and not leader-like while behaving in more traditionally male ways ("agentic" behaviors, such as being aggressive, ambitious, and forceful) are seen as damaging in women, and therefore also not leader-like.
I have been well aware of the double bind for many years. I have watched other women navigate it, some more successfully than others. I have developed strategies for navigating it myself, balancing on the razor thin line between being overly communal and overly agentic.
I cannot go into the details here, but I am 100% sure that I have stumbled in this attempt recently, and my effectiveness in my current position is compromised. It almost goes without saying that I think my potential for future advancement is also compromised.
I am utterly unsure of what to do next. None of the articles I have ever read on the subject present a viable solution to the double bind. They just note that it exists and causes problems for ambitious women.
(As an aside: I also really enjoyed the recent New York Times article by Stephanie Coontz about why gender equality has stalled, but wished it would have more thoroughly addressed the extent to which having to deal with crap like the double bind leads women to decide that pushing to stay in the workforce after having children just isn't worth the effort, and also the extent to which the subtle drain on self-confidence that this and other double standards create helps tip mothers away from the workforce.)
At this point, I find myself wondering what I even want. Do I want a map showing the way past this obstacle? Or do I instead want a labyrinth escape plan? That is, should I try to find a way to navigate through the double bind, at least temporarily, and continue on my current path, or should I listen to the little voice in my head that is telling me that the prize at the end of this particular labyrinth isn't worth the struggle, and work on finding a way to opt out and forge a new path to a different prize?
I honestly don't know which option to choose. On one hand, the double bind angers me, and I somewhat stubbornly do not want to let it block my progress. But recently, I've started to wonder if that stubbornness might be keeping me from taking the risks that could lead me to a better path. It is not an easy decision, but it is one I can no longer ignore.
"Times have changed, however, and the glass ceiling metaphor is now more wrong than right. For one thing, it describes an absolute barrier at a specific high level in organizations. The fact that there have been female chief executives, university presidents, state governors, and presidents of nations gives the lie to that charge. At the same time, the metaphor implies that women and men have equal access to entry- and midlevel positions. They do not. The image of a transparent obstruction also suggests that women are being misled about their opportunities, because the impediment is not easy for them to see from a distance. But some impediments are not subtle. Worst of all, by depicting a single, unvarying obstacle, the glass ceiling fails to incorporate the complexity and variety of challenges that women can face in their leadership journeys. In truth, women are not turned away only as they reach the penultimate stage of a distinguished career. They disappear in various numbers at many points leading up to that stage."
The authors advance an alternative metaphor, that of a labyrinth:
"Passage through a labyrinth is not simple or direct, but requires persistence, awareness of one’s progress, and a careful analysis of the puzzles that lie ahead. It is this meaning that we intend to convey. For women who aspire to top leadership, routes exist but are full of twists and turns, both unexpected and expected."
I think this is a very powerful metaphor that aptly captures the experience of being a woman trying to work up to positions of leadership. It is not a perfect metaphor, of course. For instance, it does not capture the fact that everyone who aspires to a position of leadership faces a labyrinth. No one has a direct path. Some people face extra challenges and different people are handed maps of differing quality at the outset, though.
Imperfect or not, this article and its metaphor showed up at an apt time in my life. I've recently realized that I'm lost in the labyrinth. For the first time in my career, I face a gender-related obstacle that I have no idea how to navigate past. Specifically, I am caught in what the article refers to as the "double bind" in which behaving in traditionally female ways ("communal" behaviors, such as being compassionate, sensitive to others, and helpful) are seen as weak and not leader-like while behaving in more traditionally male ways ("agentic" behaviors, such as being aggressive, ambitious, and forceful) are seen as damaging in women, and therefore also not leader-like.
I have been well aware of the double bind for many years. I have watched other women navigate it, some more successfully than others. I have developed strategies for navigating it myself, balancing on the razor thin line between being overly communal and overly agentic.
I cannot go into the details here, but I am 100% sure that I have stumbled in this attempt recently, and my effectiveness in my current position is compromised. It almost goes without saying that I think my potential for future advancement is also compromised.
I am utterly unsure of what to do next. None of the articles I have ever read on the subject present a viable solution to the double bind. They just note that it exists and causes problems for ambitious women.
(As an aside: I also really enjoyed the recent New York Times article by Stephanie Coontz about why gender equality has stalled, but wished it would have more thoroughly addressed the extent to which having to deal with crap like the double bind leads women to decide that pushing to stay in the workforce after having children just isn't worth the effort, and also the extent to which the subtle drain on self-confidence that this and other double standards create helps tip mothers away from the workforce.)
At this point, I find myself wondering what I even want. Do I want a map showing the way past this obstacle? Or do I instead want a labyrinth escape plan? That is, should I try to find a way to navigate through the double bind, at least temporarily, and continue on my current path, or should I listen to the little voice in my head that is telling me that the prize at the end of this particular labyrinth isn't worth the struggle, and work on finding a way to opt out and forge a new path to a different prize?
I honestly don't know which option to choose. On one hand, the double bind angers me, and I somewhat stubbornly do not want to let it block my progress. But recently, I've started to wonder if that stubbornness might be keeping me from taking the risks that could lead me to a better path. It is not an easy decision, but it is one I can no longer ignore.
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