dare to dream

Relaunching a dream

You know her.

You may even be her.

She has several young children in tow.  She's actively involved in the school, church and community. Without this go-to woman, this linchpin, many of our communities would come undone.

Ironic then, that as her children begin to grow up, few want to hire her.

Which is why I immediately became enthralled by the work of Carol Fishman Cohen (with whom I serendipitously connected via social media) and Vivian Steir Rabin, the authors of Back on the Career Track. Carol worked in corporate finance at investment bank Drexel Burnham Lambert before taking a career break to begin her cherished dream of children and family. Eleven years and four children later, Carol figured out how to relaunch her career, nabbing a full-time job with Bain Capital, a prestigious Boston-based investment firm.  Subsequently she moved on, driven by a desire to help other women figure out how to reenter the work force. Carol is a woman who can walk her talk.

Source:  istockphoto

Imagine then my delight at being able to attend the iRelaunch Return to Work Conference at Bentley University in Boston.  In this standing room-only session, Carol and Vivian had assembled over 200 educated, vibrant women, who had taken a career break to put their mothering dream on track, and now are ready to return to work.

Importantly, their story line wasn't, "I've been out of the workforce, I'm unemployable", a line that many have been spoon fed to believe by corporate America.  Rather, the narrative went more like: "In addition to being highly trained as a ______, if you hire me, I won't take maternity leave because I already have, spousal relocation is unlikely because we're already settled, I've got a maturity and perspective that I didn't have at thirty (remember Ann Crittenden's If You've Been a Mother You Can Do Anything"), along with the energy and enthusiasm I couldn't have even begun to muster when I was sleep-deprived."

Not too long ago, once women began pursuing their long-held dream of motherhood, they closed the door forever on career aspirations:  people like Carol and Vivian are helping to wedge that door open.

Career re-entry is no doubt quite difficult.  But given all the prodigiously talented mothers I know whose contributions the world surely needs, the possibility of re-entry makes me happy.  Could it even be, that we are moving into an era where we can have our cake -- and dessert too?

Besides iRelaunch, what other career re-entry programs are you aware of?

How does it feel to know that there will be more doors open to you than you previously thought? 

P.S.   I also recommend Becky Beaupre Gillespie and Hollee Schwartz Temple's book Good Enough Is the New Perfect.  After surveying over 900 moms born between 1965 and 1980 they found that the "constant need to be the best at everything" was the single greatest roadblock to juggling work and family.   One of my favorite paragraphs (pg. 59) which applies to mothers across the board is this:   Don't equate being a good mother with doing the things you don't do well.  Even the fun things count.  For me that means, if I love sitting with my daughter in the backyard on Memorial weekend while we both read books, then that's something that makes me a good mother because we are building a relationship. If we do what we love with our children, we'll find that all of our good enough's add up to a whole lot of perfect.

HarvardBusiness.org: Summoning the Courage to Tear Down Walls

I guest posted over at HarvardBusiness.org today.  

Before you read the post, I'd encourage you to watch this clip from President Reagan's "Tear Down the Wall" speech.

Do you remember Reagan giving this speech?

When was the last time you delivered tough talk to someone?  Or someone to you?  What was your motivation?  What happened?

What walls do you need to tear down in order to achieve your dream?

P.S.   Eva Koleva Timothy's story, in part, prompted this post; Stacey Petrey pressed me to further explore the implications of the 'tear down'; Elizabeth Harmer-Dionne forwarded me the WSJ piece on Reagan; had Stacey and Liz Economy not 'dared' me to submit my posts to HarvardBusiness.org, I wouldn't have.  A dream team indeed. 

 

What VCs Want: More Lessons from the Shark Tank

Have you ever said or heard said "I'm certain I have a good business idea, but I just can't seem to get it funded."?  Assuming you've adequately vetted the idea, business plan in hand, your pitch perfected, and still no takers, the idea may not necessarily be bad.  Rather your proposed business doesn't 'do a job' the money folks, or venture capitalists (VC), want done.

According to Professor Clayton Christensen's jobs-to-be-done framework (remember Lessons Learned from Katie Couric), whenever a VC invests money, he or she is hiring that investment to do a job for him or her.  It's partly about making money, but it's also about their hiring the business -- which is in many ways an extension of their identity -- to positively reinforce that identity.

To illustrate my point, let's take another look at the reality show Shark Tank.  Four of the five sharks are men.  Will Ava the Elephant, a children's medicine dispensing product or Plus Size Women's (Start at  Minute 31) clothing appeal to them?  Not so much. 

Technology?  Sports?

Take a look at this clip beginning at 31 minutes:  if you are outside of the U.S., click here.

Yup, you got it.

Throughout the series, the male sharks were shrewd, detached.  Not so in negotiating a deal with JumpForward, a mobile application that prevents college sports recruiting violations.  Robert twirling the pen says everything.  Hiring this deal to make money appears almost secondary.  One nearly wonders who is the bait.

Takeaways?

For women entrepreneurs: 
If your business isn't getting funded, maybe you'll need to bootstrap longer.  Or rework the pitch so the VC community sees this as a job they want done; in the 'outside reality-TV world, 90-95% of VCs are men. 

For Male VCs:
Take a look at the deals your peers have dismissed.  There is likely some pay dirt amidst the perceived dross for which you'll pay a lot less; maybe even boost your return-on-investment (ROI).    

***

Thoughts? 

 

Interview with Lookilulu: Helping Girls See What They Can Do

Jill Hubbard Bowman, founder of Lookilulu, recently interviewed me.  Here's a sampling of the questions asked: 

1. What does your job involve?
2. What is your physical work environment like?
3. What kinds of people do you work with?
4. What skills are important in your job?
5. What do you love about your job?
6. What don't you like about your job?
7. What advice do you have for teenage girls?
8. What was the best advice you've ever received?
9. What was the worst advice?

You can listen to the podcast here (my friend Macy even tells me it's pretty good) and read my profile here. 

 

Lookilulu's mission is to help teenage girls see what is possible in their own lives.

Founders Julie Simmons and Jill Hubbard Bowman are sisters who grew up on a farm in a no-stoplight town in Utah. They lived in the shadow of Willard Peak—a beautiful, daunting mountain. It took many years for them to see that women could get over the mountains and live adventurous lives they love.

Their company, Willard Peak Productions, Inc., is committed to inspiring girls and women to dream big dreams. They want to help girls see from the mountain peak—not the valley floor.

They write, "We are doing this for our daughters—Kaeli and Zoe—and yours."
***

Do you have suggestions of women that Lookilulu should profile?  Will you leave a comment, or ping me directly?  Or better yet - ping Lookilulu directly?

After checking out their website, if you like what Julie and Jill are doing, leave a comment on their blog, or twitter them to get the word out.  Most especially share this website with some teenage or college age girls that you love.

Can Nice Girls Ask?

I was just a year out of college, and interviewing for a sales assistant position at PaineWebber.

One of my prospective bosses offered me $24,000.  I countered with $27,000.  He pulled out his calculator like a gun from a holster, punched in $3,000, divided it by 52, and in a clipped tone responded, "That's only $57 more a week, why do you care?"

To which I responded, "Precisely".

PaineWebber subsequently agreed to $27k. I took the job.  Two years hence my bosses championed my hop, one that rarely happens in the investment banking world, from the admin to a professional track.

And I tucked away in my brain the belief  -- 'nice girls can ask'.

 
Source:  istockphoto

Nearly two decades later, I recognize that my experience with this employer was anomalous.

'Nice girls can't ask' has tended to more true.

For example, at the end of 2004, I'd had a great year at Merrill Lynch.  From stock-picking to commission dollars to peer reviews, I was top of the class.  Surely I was on solid ground when I conveyed to management that I expected to be a top 10% earner.  Instead I was told I was out-of-line.  And yep, you guessed it, my pay wasn't in the top 10% -- it wasn't even top quartile.

Which is why I wasn't at all surprised when I recently read about an academic study in a Washington Post article Salary, Gender and the Social Cost of Haggling, the findings of which are summarized below.

Although it may well be true that women often hurt themselves by not trying to negotiate, this study found that both men and women were more likely to subtly penalize women who asked for more, the perception being that women who asked for more were 'less nice'.  'What we found across all the studies is men were always less willing to work with a woman who had attempted to negotiate than with a woman who did not.  'They always preferred to work with a woman who stayed mum.'

 
Source:  istockphoto

Use your words.  Ask for what you want.  My experience and this study indicate there can be a social cost when women negotiate.  A cost that is consistent with the findings of Cornell professor Anna Fels' findings:  when we are giving something to someone else, we are feminine; when we are asking for something from someone, we are not.

It's a double bind.

I don't have an answer.  But, I do have some thoughts:

1. I was relieved to read about this study, to recognize that my professional rebuff was due to societal norms; it wasn't about me per se. 
2. If we are reluctant to ask for what we want, maybe we aren't being wimpy, but calculating the social cost of asking.
3. I am both surprised, but mostly appreciative, of my bosses at PaineWebber who were willing to negotiate with me -- and still wanted to work with me.I want, I need to, be nice -- to be attuned to others' needs.

AND
I want to, I need to, ask for what I want.
Being my self depends on it.

What are your thoughts?

For more on my work experiences, you can read:

1. HBR's How Star Women Build Portable Skills
2. The Hazards of Getting in the Game
3. Valuing What Women Do
4. Sucker Punch
5. Telling My Wall Street Story
6. The Allure of the Pom-Pom     

For further reading, you may enjoy Nice Girls Don't Get Raises which offers up another explanation for the gender pay gap, as well Gender Stereotypes and the Double Binds for Women in Leadership, which explains 'professional women are generally considered ill-equipped to handle jobs traditionally held by men AND we typically induce disapproval and social penalties when we are successful in these positions'.

P.S.  Thanks to Stacey Petrey for forwarding me the Washington Post article.

Planting cherry trees

After the market rallied nearly 11% on Monday, it dropped 1.5% yesterday, and another 9.3% today.  Given that I manage money for a living, and am experiencing this manic market firsthand, I find myself somewhat sympathetic to stories of folks stuffing their money under a mattress.

I think that taking a moment to be kind to ourselves is probably in order.  In fact, curling up for a quick nap on that mattress under which we are thinking of stuffing our money might not be a bad idea.

But then what?

Do we really liquidate all our positions, and sit entirely in cash? 

Last week, a CNBC reporter asked a money manager what he thought the market would do this week. He didn't say up or down, but wondered aloud if we shouldn't all take the proverbial 'time out', given that everyone, including money managers, seemed to be succumbing to fear.

A frustrated, and no doubt exhausted reporter, launched into a Tom Cruise/Jack Nicholson-worthy harangue -- "You need to tell us the truth. The people deserve to know the truth."

But, in this instance, the truth, was, and is -- we, those who invest, decide the truth.

Will the market drop precipitously?

If we stuff all of our money under the mattress, the market will drop.

Will it surge?

If we invest, the market will go up.

We decide.

Source:  istockphoto

I recently heard private equity investor Bob Gay make two statements that were meaningful to me when the market was 35% higher.  They are even more meaningful today, and have, in fact, become my professional watchwords.

First, paraphrasing economist John Maynard Keynes, he said, "The social object of investment is to defeat fear."

Second, "We must have the courage to take limited means, and to invest in and encourage others..."

Said more pithily, and paraphrasing western colonizer Brigham Young, we need to "keep planting cherry trees."

Source:  istockphoto

Should we throw caution to the wind?

Of course not.

But should we stop investing? Planting cherry trees? No.

Because if we do it will begin to affect everything we do and are.

And not just us, our children too.

Said Sarah Ban Breathnach "Both abundance and lack exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities.  It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend."

We decide.

Source:  istockphoto

So yes, the market's bad, and yes, we're scared.

We still must decide which 'secret garden' we'll tend.

Do we continue to invest in and encourage others?

To plant cherry trees?

To dream?

Dare we not?

P.S. Over the past few weeks, both at work, and at home, I've started making a daily list of what I'm grateful for -- an informal gratitude journal in hopes that I can tend the 'garden of gratitude.'

P.P.S. There is a great entry on Psychology Today titled Nothing to Fear, but Fear Itself?

The allure of the pom-pom

I sort of deserved it, but it stung nonetheless.

One of our vendors (I'm purposely being vague) recently invited me and several other clients to sit in their box at a Celtics game -- nope, not a championship game.

In making small talk, one of the fellows asked me if I were a hoops fan.  I could have given several different answers.  Like, Yes, I really enjoyed going to games when I was younger.  Or, No, not so much, but I've enjoyed seeing the Celtics' have a winning season.  Both answers would have been true.

Instead, I said, "Well, I WAS a cheerleader in high school".

To which he responded, "And, now you're a cheerleader over at Rose Park."

©iStockphoto.com/Jeremy Sterk

Weeks later, I'm still stung.

Was his comment inappropriate?

Yup.

But, given that 'it takes two to tango', and that this man's comment, albeit the most egregious over the past year, was not dissimilar to comments made by other folks, I have come to wonder if I bear some responsibility for this sort of riposte. 

I don't mean to imply that I didn't relish being a cheerleader because I did.  I spent many, many hours making up and perfecting cheers; I loved cheering for my high school.

Even today, I'm happiest when I'm cheering on my family and friends as they pursue their dreams.

But in my professional milieu, cheerleader isn't what I thought I was going for.

So why did I say what I said?

Because I must have meant it -- at least a little.

I want to be respected professionally, to have what I say and do be taken seriously.  To have gravitas.

I also want to be loved, adored, and cared for -- don't all girls?

And in a professional context, I just don't think you can have both.

So...

I've been asking myself ---

Am I going to grow up or not?

Throw down my pom-poms, as alluring as they are to hang on to?

Or get in the game?

©iStockphoto.com/Klaus Larsen

Have you read Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series?  Her books play perfectly into our desire to be loved, adored, cared for.  Which is why, in my opinion, they are so intoxicating -- I read the first three in a week.

Have you found yourself giving mixed messages?   As a professional, parent, spouse?  Why?

Have you ever become angered by a comment only to later realize that the person was merely reflecting back to you what you were emitting? 

Even as I write this, it feels that I am grappling for, or missing, something.  What are your thoughts?

Related posts:
Getting in the game
If you get defensive, you're getting close
It's just a game.  Precisely!
Et tu, Whitney?
The hazards of getting in the game

HBR's 'How Star Women Build Portable Skills'

In the 'What is your dream?' questionnaire, one of the questions posed is -- What is the biggest challenge (personal or professional) I've overcome?  Who would I be had I not surmounted this?

Because one of my most daunting professional challenges was working on Wall Street, I was intrigued when my friend Stacey Petrey referred me to Professor Boris Groysberg's article 'How Star Women Build Portable Skills', a study which states that women are generally more successful than men in moving from one job to another because of the portability of our skills.

Groysberg states "women have learned how to build external networks of clients, associates, and other professionals outside the organizations - that remain intact when they depart...Not because women set out to do this, but because they [women] are often marginalized and have to fight institutional barriers, so they build external networks out of necessity."

I found Professor Groysberg's case study so affirming that I sent him an e-mail telling him -- yes, I really am trying to walk my talk of getting in the game).  This contact serendipitously led to an interview by Rob Weisman at the Boston Globe for his article on Groysberg's findings.

 

Can you relate to this as much as I can?   

You're trying to figure out how to get something important done, whether personally or professionally, and it's just not happening.

So you get creative -- you buck convention -- and you get it done (whether at work, in the community, your children's school), and in the process you find you've developed one of your greatest strengths.

What is that strength?

After you read Groysberg's case study, and Weisman's article, what would you add?

What thing have you tried to get done for which traditional channels were blocked, so you created a workaround solution?  What 'portable skills' did you acquire in the process?

Would you agree that there are parallels to Psyche's 2nd Task of gathering the fleece?

Have any of you read Clayton Christensen's The Innovator's Solution?  Isn't it true that as we are trying to get something done, we are in effect the innovator vs. the incumbent?

Related posts:
Second thoughts on Psyche's 2nd task
Rachel vs. Leah:  Reclaiming our power to dream
Book I Like:  There's a Business in Everywoman
What if Madeleine L'Engle hadn't dared to dream?
Valuing what women do

Valuing what women do

It was several years ago, but it seems like yesterday.

About a month before Merrill Lynch management was to decide on bonuses, my boss reviewed my various performance metrics, including, among others: did my stock calls make money for our clients, were the clients happy with my service. When he got to the metric "# of phone calls and/or meetings with clients", a number which was 40% higher than the average, he said:

“That's great, but isn't the number of client contacts high because it's fun for you?" The implication being: "I don't know that I need to compensate you for your client interactions (even though it helped drive revenue for the firm) because you're a woman -- and women like to talk on the phone and socialize."

Source: JIFormales, Flickr

With nearly three years of hindsight, here's what I wish I would have said:

“John (that's not his real name), I do like what I do. Correction. I love what I do. I love servicing our clients, and in many instances, I am genuinely fond of them. Aren't you glad that what I "love to do" generates revenue for the firm? Now, let's talk about bonuses for this year..."

In fairness to "John", his attitude is widespread and pervasive. And not just among men.

Let me illustrate by asking you the following two questions:

When you stay at a hotel, how much on average do you tip the bellmen/valets?

How much, on average, do you tip housekeeping?

Said another way, do you pay a lot more to the people (usually men) carrying the luggage that you don't need carried, opening the door you don't need opened, and retrieving the car you could get yourself, than you do to the people (usually women) who clean your room, something that you very much want to be done, and don't want to do yourself?

Now for a "not walking the talk, mea culpa" story:

When I was in Mexico last month, after the bellman hoisted my suitcase (which I could have lifted myself) into the back of a cab, I apologized (apologized!) because I didn’t have any cash on hand for a tip. Just hours before, as a housekeeper put the finishing touches on my room, I thought “I don’t need to pay her; she likes doing what she’s doing."

She likes to make my bed, pick up my towels?

That's not what I said last summer when the person cleaning our family's cruise ship cabin was a man.

We tipped him well, very well.

Hmmm.

Here's my take:

Because nurturing and caring for others tends to be a strong suit for women (I would argue it's innate), when a women gives/helps/mentors, we easily slip into a mindset of "she's doing this because she likes to, and therefore doesn't need to be compensated".

What's sad is... when she (we) aren't compensated for our work, we wonder -- did I not do good work? I'll try and do better next time. Worse yet, do we think -- is what I'm doing not important? Does what I know how to do not matter to society? If it doesn't matter to society, should it matter to me?

And what's especially sad is that when we're in this dump of a place, even a double-dog dare may not be enough to get us to dream.

So, let's change. Not a chump change. Or a small change.

But a big change.

A big wad of cash change.

Some suggestions:

1) The next time one of us goes to a hotel, let's leave a tip for housekeeping. It will be hard. Let's do it anyway.

2) When one of our female friends (or not) offers to provide us with a service – like cutting our hair – and she wants to undercharge, or do it for free, let's tell her we are going to pay market because we value her skill, her work and her time. Note: If money is an issue in the short-term, what about a barter arrangement?

3) Finally, when a woman renders a service, before deciding whether to pay, or how much to pay, let's ask ourselves: If a man were to provide this service to me, would I expect to pay him? If so, how much would I pay?

I'm ready for a big wad of cash change -- how about you?

A philanthrophic hero's journey: Luanne Zurlo

Last night I attended a benefit for the World Education and Development Fund (Worldfund) in New York. It was an elegant affair, honoring Jeff Immelt, the CEO of GE, and Roger Agnelli, the CEO of CVRD. It was also a happy reunion, as I was able to visit with many of my former Wall Street colleagues.

The event, held at the Mandarin Oriental, was all the more impressive when I consider what Luanne Zurlo, the Executive Director and founder of WorldFund, has accomplished in less than five years.

You see, Luanne and I started on Wall Street at about the same time; she went on to become an Insitutional Investor-ranked analyst at Goldman, Sachs covering the telecommunications sector.

But, in 2001, our paths diverged.

During a business trip to Mexico City, as Luanne visited schools there, she became aware of the generally poor quality of education in Latin America. Because she knew what education had done for the quality of her life, notwithstanding her parents' sacrifices to make this education happen, she felt something needed to be done - but what?

Her definitive call to adventure coincided with 9/11, a time when so many of us reevaluated our priorities. And in mid-2002, she left Wall Street, determined to make a difference for education in Latin America.

In undertaking this hero's journey, Luanne left a comfortable and secure, albeit stressful, lifestyle, to do something she didn't know how to do -- the starting and running of a non-profit -- including the herculean task of raising, dare I say, pleading, for money.

In her quieter moments, she will tell you this has been tremendously difficult, from the personal sacrifice, especially financial, to the responsibility she feels for her employees, to the generally tough task of building something. But she will also tell you that she is neither desperate nor depressed, that "4 1/2 years, c. $5 million raised, and 30,000 children educated" later, she is content, fulfilled even.

Yes, last night was about raising money for WorldFund, but it was also a tribute to Luanne, and a visible, tangible reminder to each of us, of what can happen when we dare to dream.