Phenomenal woman, that’s me. - Maya Angelou

Boy-cut Me

When I was three, my grandpa visited from India to see my newborn brother. Sharing grandparental attention was new to me; I handled it better on some days than others. On one of the dark days, my grandpa took (only) me on a San Francisco adventure. From pier to chocolate to bridge, I was a content grandpa-hog.

At my request, the tram was our selected mode of transportation (It had to be like Full House).

When we entered, a woman on the tram looked at me and asked, "Are you a boy or a girl?" I had a boy-cut at the time, so her question wasn't completely unsolicited. Attention-starved, I jumped at the opportunity to talk to this person who noticed me. 

My brother's birth taught me the difference between boy siblings and girl siblings, which to me, was the main difference between boys and girls. "I'm a girl, but I have a brother at home who's a boy," I told her.  

That was the first time I expressed pride in my femininity. Today, I don't know what that pride looks like. 

A few weeks ago on the soccer field, an opponent and I elbowed as we fought over the ball. When the situation was no longer in his favor, my opponent looked at the ref then at me and yelled, "You can't push me just because you're a girl." I backed off, but not before saying, "Hey, watch the gender references." And I meant, "Treat me like one of the boys."

While I was mostly angry by his loaded remark, I couldn't help but wonder whether I was elbowing harder than a male would have gotten away with. Did I think that I wouldn't get called because I was a woman? Would I have been called if I was a man?

Our co-ed soccer league requires three women from each team to be on the field at any given time. A precious commodity, a free-agent girl standing on the field will reliably be swooped up by a female-deficient team. This special attention for females makes it difficult not to wonder whether I would be as desirable a teammate if I weren't a girl. If perhaps, my team's men feel that a spot on the field is being wasted.

Two weekends ago, my company's product development team had a retreat in Tahoe. The team consists of ~30 engineers, 4 product designers, and 5 product managers. The only females are product managers, of which I am one. When we were informed of the trip, the organizer emphasized that attendance was highly encouraged, and anyone who wasn't planning to attend was to send him a personal note.

My stomach sank when I received the email about Tahoe. It wasn't because I didn't want to spend time with my team. My stomach sank because I don't play snow sports -- and have no interest in learning how. I worried what everyone would think when I said that I wasn't going to ski or snowboard. They would probably think, "Classic girl. So fragile."

 I was nervous that my disinterest would shed additional negative attention of the fact that I am a woman and permanently affect people's (people I lead!) perception of my strength. Strength both inside and outside the office. I wanted to be "one of the guys" just like I did on the soccer field. It was only once we were in Tahoe, when one of the product managers ended up going snowboarding and several of the men stayed back to hike and laze that I felt more comfortable.

My feminine issues about soccer and Tahoe were mostly in my head.

They were in my head because the conversation about corporate America's gender gap is never-ending. From the glass ceiling to leaning in, the inequality between women and men in the workforce (and in other adult activities) is continually in the spotlight.

***

Feeling "disadvantaged" or worse ashamed of my sex is new to me. In fact not once during my academic career did I feel incapable of blowing something out of the water (a Calculus exam, a psychology thesis, an economics project) because I am female. Similarly, I never attributed any of my academic successes to my sex. I accredited innate (unisex) qualities like hard work and determination. 

I met the gender gap when I started my professional career, in an industry where there reportedly isn't a gender gap in salary.

In a review, a male manager provided a "likely" explanation for why others perceived me as "only strong" while he perceived me as "outstanding." "Sometimes," he said, "it's hard for women to have an edge." He provided no specific way for me to become more "edgy" (except perhaps a sex change?) and I left with the understanding that I would forever be disadvantaged in the category of edge.

Now, whenever I lead ineffectively, my gut reaction is that perhaps my "lack of edge" is to blame. Most of the time, there are countless (tangible) and more realistic reasons -- I didn't  communicate clearly, I didn't involve the right people, I didn't do my due diligence. Those explanations are not instinctual to me, though.

When I recount this story to people (friends, former managers, respected leaders, etc.), they typically point me to other women leaders I can emulate.

We lump "femininity" in with the problem and discuss the importance of leaning in.

***

Based on its implications in my own life, I hypothesize that the discussion of disadvantage, rather than the gender gap itself, is handicapping us women more. And there is psychological research to justify my hypothesis:

In 2012, researchers at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign conducted a study in which girls and boys were asked to complete a matching task. After the first round, some participants were told that the other group was better at the task (i.e., "boys are better at this game"), while others were told that a specific person was good at the task (i.e, "that girl is good at this game").

In the second round, the scores of those who had been primed to believe that the other gender group was better at the task (i.e, girls who were told, "boys are better at this game") dropped by 12%. Scores didn't change for those who were told about an individual's penchant for the game.

This tells me that as a young woman, my success is dependent on hearing about successful individuals and their strengths. Not what corporate women struggle with. Not what corporate males are good at.

***

Boy-cut Mindy

In an interview on feminism, Mindy Kaling once commented, "I often feel guilty pointing out behavior in other women that I don't support. Like somehow, the moment I was pulled from my mother's severed stomach, a pen was placed in my tiny balled fist and I signed a binding document that says, 'I got your back, ladies.'" 

Women are good and bad at things the same way men are good and bad at things. And that's okay. A blanket statement covering a woman's disadvantage in a specific situation is not always the answer -- and may even harm other women who are more likely to succeed. 

While the acknowledgement of glass ceilings and the search for more women requires acute attention and concerted action, maybe the message is being driven home in the wrong way, or in the wrong minds.

There needs to be a way to amplify the voice of women without amplifying the voice in women's heads. 

Coed should really be coed. Young women should be encouraged to emulate leaders based on successful leadership qualities. Feedback for improvement should include truly actionable suggestions. 

Let's start a new movement. A movement to attribute successes -- and failures -- to changeable, tangible behaviors instead of sex. Sisters and brothers (who are boys), let's bring the pride back.