The Future is Female: Part II

This year I have dedicated myself to improving my leadership skills and conflict-management strategies in new leadership roles at work, along with a journey of self-reflection that is helping me identify my triggers, set boundaries, communicate directly, and discern how best to respond in confrontational situations.  In thinking about leadership and decision-making in the workforce, the gender inequalities and struggles that women face have become even more apparent to me.

I had a really aggravating encounter at work recently when a well-meaning visitor of a patient referred to me as a "pretty nurse," which I'm sure he thought was supposed to be a compliment. I was offended for so many reasons.  For one, it was horribly sexist.  He made an assumption that a female working in a hospital must be a nurse.  It did not even cross his mind that I could be a physician, or a pharmacist, or a doctor of physical therapy, thank you very much.  (I mean no offense to my nursing friends.  Nursing is an honorable profession and one I would be proud to be a part of, but not all women in healthcare are nurses, and not all nurses are women.)  Secondly, it was deeply offensive that this individual would think that being "pretty" is an important and admirable quality in a nurse.  Forget smart or compassionate or patient -- it is clear that he thinks a nurse strives to be pretty, above all else, and I know my nursing friends would be offended by this.  Thirdly, this male visitor is obviously someone who has never been called out on his behavior before.  He probably makes sexist and offensive comments on a regular basis without even realizing it because no one challenges him.  I struggle with the internal battle between ignoring sexism, recognizing that this kind old man was probably well-meaning and thought he was complimenting me, versus using the opportunity as a teaching moment about acceptable behavior and appropriate ways to greet a professional in a healthcare setting.

After the encounter I went to a meeting with a coworker, during which we vented and had a heart-to-heart about some of our struggles as women in leadership.  No matter how determined and organized and dynamic and intelligent a woman may be, no matter how good she is at her job, she's never free from sexism or assumptions, however well-meaning people may be.  My friend also articulated for me a feeling I sometimes have that I don't really know what I'm doing, and the very acute dread I feel that someone will eventually find out that I am a fake; I never knew that these feelings were normal for women in leadership, or that they had a name: Imposter Syndrome.  I looked it up: "Despite external evidence of their competence, those experiencing this phenomenon remain convinced that they are frauds, and do not deserve all they have achieved. Individuals with impostor syndrome incorrectly attribute their success to luck, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they are more intelligent than they perceive themselves to be."  As frustrating as it is to feel this way, I also feel a weight lifted knowing that this is a real thing that other people experience too, especially women in leadership. 

Women have to work so much harder and just be on our game all the time.  This is so apparent to me at work.  But another observation: women are also kicking butt.  My organization's CEO is a woman, as well as many of the other executives and leaders.  My department is dominated by women.  My mentors in the field are mostly women.  And more women than men are enrolling in med school.  My recent term on the grand jury also shed light on another professional field in which women are dominating.  The female lawyers and detectives and law enforcement agents are on their game 100% of the time.  They can't get away with messing up.  I realize that gender gaps are multifactorial, originating at the very beginnings of life and further engrained in early childhood education and into elementary school years, and I'm not an expert to comment on these many factors, but I feel the impact in the workforce.  It's true that men are helping out more at home than ever before, and gender discrimination certainly exists against males as well throughout the lifespan, but the workload mentally and physically that women face is enormous.

There's a delicate balance, I think, between keeping the peace and speaking one's mind, between letting things go and embracing opportunities to instigate change.  In my candlelight Mother's Day yoga class last night, the instructor introduced a beautiful tree metaphor depicting this balance: we can use yoga and meditation to develop the ability to discern when we need to root down and stand firm, and when we should relax our branches and bend in the wind.  This image has stuck with me and reminds me that life is a balance and we can only be successful by being strong and confident while simultaneously adaptable and kind.