The worst part of being a woman in business is that we are often defined by
our gender. In fact, I'm guilty of defining women that way.
While shopping online for draperies for my office building, I came across a
promising advertisement. I called and reached the owner, Lisa, and was impressed
by the fact that she represented a woman-owned company. She was clearly
enthusiastic and interested in obtaining my account. I asked whether we could
set up an appointment.
We consulted our calendars, but with each suggested date, Lisa countered
with, "My boys are in soccer that day," "There's a school play on Tuesday" or "I
do carpool on Wednesdays." I thought to myself, this girl doesn't have a good
business mentality. But when I began to beg out of the conversation and a
potential deal with her, I realized I was a business sexist.
Yes, it's important to appear professional in a business setting. But I
realized I've been using a double standard. I've called men to arrange business
meetings only to be told they had a golf game or another family obligation that
day. I didn't gauge my potential to do business with them based on their prior
commitments. I had to take a good look at my motives and wonder why I was making
such a callous judgment about a woman I didn't know.
After all, I've been the victim of the same harsh judgments I was making
about Lisa. After graduating from law school, I sought an entry-level position
with a prestigious law firm. The interview process produced an array of senior
partners and interviewing associates asking me all the wrong questions
concerning my ability to commit to the job. Would I be having children? Would
family obligations limit my ability to be a good attorney? Those stereotypes
prompted me to become an entrepreneur. I no longer wanted to subject myself to
idiotic questioning from strangers who knew nothing of my abilities. Shortly
after my law firm experience, I was the owner of my own corporation, making my
own rules.
So what happened to me? I've always taken pride in running my business with
an androgynous attitude. I thought I was an equal opportunity employer, when in
reality I was suppressing my gender. I know the business world is still an
unequal playing field for women, and I want to change that. What I've been
trying to convey to women is that we still have a great deal of progress to
make, and we should use all the ammunition we can muster to become equals in the
workplace. But trying to achieve equality doesn't mean we have to lose our
essence as women or penalize those who acknowledge other commitments in their
lives.
By initially rejecting Lisa, I failed to take into account how much women
need the support of other women. It's through encouragement, networking and
reciprocal business that we will continue to succeed in our careers, and
establish equal and acceptable status and salaries in the workplace.
I now know that my fight for credibility in a male-dominated market caused me
to carry my frustrations into my self-made corporate world. I wanted every woman
to prove herself, yet I showed very little support by expecting too much and
setting an unrealistic bar for Lisa, who became my accidental target.
I've been called one of the best advocates for women in the United States and
been amply rewarded for that title. Ironically, I write this column to ask
forgiveness from my fellow women in business. The trouble with our gender is
that we have to do so many things well and simultaneously prove our competence,
reliability and business savvy. Obviously, some of the most zealous advocates of
women in business forget the definition of sisterhood.
Cynthia McKay is a business growth consultant and CEO of Le Gourmet Gift Basket, a company she began as a small home based business in 1992 and has grown to 510 operating distributorships and more than $1 million in revenue.