Pay parity for whom?

2248. Twenty-two forty-eight. A.D.

At the current pace, that’s the year American women will finally have pay parity with men.

Oh, you thought it was 2059? You were galled, because it’s still 42 years away? Well, hold your gall and ratchet it up, because it will be 107 years before black women have pay parity – and 231 years before Hispanic women do.

231 years. That’s 7 generations from now. 7 generations. Our great, great, great, great, great granddaughters might finally be paid fairly for their work.

Pause. Right now. How many of us can name our great, great, great, great, great grandmothers? We probably can’t, because 231 years was a long time ago. That’s the year Sacajawea was born. Davy Crockett died. Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro premiered in Vienna. And it was still three years before we’d have our first US President. In case you’ve lost count, precisely 0 of the last 45 have been women.

231 years is unacceptable. Truth is, I don’t know if that even tells the whole story. But you get the point. When we talk about gender pay equity, we absolutely must include all women.

She’s not the f*ck!ng nanny.

Who didn’t giggle watching the live BBC video during which a man’s toddler and infant burst into his office and into social media fame? It was adorbs.

And yet…

Hands up if you leaped to the assumption that the super-shero who came stocking-foot skidding through the door after them was the nanny.

Me. I did. I went right there. Whether the idea originated in my head or was inferred from someone’s post, I neither noticed nor challenged a notion patently grounded in race. Asian woman running after small children? She must be the nanny.

I bought immediately into a stereotype I’ve seen play out many times against my wife. And our friends. And even when we travel, where it takes on different but familiar shades.

My wife is a badass. Today she designed her first t-shirt. She shouldn’t have to wear it, but she’s going to rock it. Yes, here in progressive Seattle. And in Florida and New York and all points in between.

And if you want one, she’ll make one for you, too.

No, she is not. But she will make you a shirt if you want one. Comment and we’ll get back to you.

Proceeds will fund her recovery from being married to a Florida cracker all these years.

10 Reasons To Resist The Clickhole

International Women’s Day was this week, and with it a social media crescendo of gratuitous shout outs to badass women everywhere.

Yay!

Past the midweek peak, a drip of residual cheers speckled my feeds. But mostly, within a day, it was back to the cacophony of critiques, criticisms, and insults masquerading as advice for business women.

You’ve seen them. Perhaps, in a moment of self-doubt, you’ve clicked on them.

10 Things Women Do Wrong in the Boardroom

10 Things Highly Successful Women Leaders Should Never Do

10 Things Women Leaders Need to Stop Doing

There are the things we do wrong when asking for a raise. The stupid things we do when negotiating a deal. How many ways can we fuck up when we’re in charge? Let the internet count the ways.

The truth is, there’s probably just one thing we should stop doing: reading crappy clickbait written to undermine our confidence. Leading is hard and it takes tremendous energy. If we’re going to spend some of that energy reading, let’s choose content with substance. Inspiration. Insight. Information. Think about our ROI. The 2-3 minutes we get sucked into that clickhole will either be a loss, a wash, or a win. So, let’s invest it wisely, and not waste it on infectious drivel that will eat away at our confidence and fester in our souls.

Here’s a very small, teeny tiny, tip of the iceberg list of all the things we’re doing right, just by nature of being in the lead.

1) We are curious.

2) We are courageous.

3) We are smart.

4) We are trailblazers.

5) We are unique.

6) We show up.

7) We dream big.

8) We are making an impact.

9) We can juggle.

10) We are inspiring someone.

So, back at it. Out of the clickhole and into the light, where we’re doing a damn fine job of leading, day after day.

 

 

Who’s got hustle?

I recently liked a tweet by a young tech startup founder I admire. It was late at night, he was still at the office, and he saluted the others burning the midnight oil as fellow hustlers.

I ate it up. That’s me, I thought. I’m such a hustler, too!

Standing in the hallway of my mostly empty building today, Saturday, I admired the fact that only my office lights were on. I snapped a pic and got ready to #HumbleBrag, Guess who’s got hustle?

Here’s why I didn’t.

The fact that I am able to be in my office late at night or on a weekend is not a reflection of whether I have hustle. It’s a reflection of the fact that I don’t have young children at home. That I have a financial safety net which allows me to pour myself 100% into this risky venture. That I have a supportive partner taking the laboring oar of house chores again, and by the way, covering me on her health insurance plan. It may even be a reflection of the fact that I am a crappy spouse.

The fact that I was in the office today is a reflection of my privilege.

So, here’s my salute to all the entrepreneurs who spent this afternoon catching up on emails while in the stands of their kid’s baseball game, or putting the finishing touches on a pitch when their toddler finally went down for a nap, or reviewing that marketing plan while on their lunch break at their weekend job, or sketching out that new design while, yes, sitting on the toilet in the bathroom where they could just enjoy a little peace and quiet.

I see you, and damn, I admire you.

Oh, look. My privilege is showing.