Just get over it...

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

nho@dirtygirlsconsulting.com

Get over yourself.
Get over your fears.
Get over those hurt, misunderstood feelings.
Get over those hurdles.

Because once you get over, you can get on, right?  Get on with your goals, get on with your dreams, get on with your life.  The only thing holding us back from getting on is getting over.

There's merit to this.  "Get over it" suggests that sometimes, it doesn't help us to spend obstinate hours mulling over why a meeting went sideways or why our words were misunderstood.  Sometimes, it really is in our best interest to chalk it up to experience, to chance or mishap, and just keep plowing forward.  Especially in those situations where there's no fix, there's no changing the outcome, and there's really little chance for a future repeat.  Get over it and get on with it.

However, "get over it" can also be an excuse to gloss over an uncomfortable moment.

I've referred several times in my blogs and postings to the "glass obstacle course" that women in business face - women in any business, but especially in male dominated industries.  I've been noodling over a series of blogs about the glass obstacle course concept, and last week, I wrote a list of what I perceive those obstacles to be.  As I wrote it, I thought, "Wow, I am starting to sound like one of those strident femi-Nazis that Rush Limbaugh used to make fun of…"  And suddenly, concern about being assigned to that particular group paused my list-making.  What is it in my generation that makes many women uncomfortable with the word "feminist"?  Is it because we're sandwiched between the extreme stereotype of the man-hating, bra burning, "second wave feminists" of the 60s and 70s, and the blithely oblivious millennials who still have a thin understanding of the impact gender plays in our lives, at work and at home?  I scribbled some notes, I expanded my list of glass obstacles, and I sat uncomfortably with the idea of being a feminist writer. 

And then I just got over it.

Worrying about being labeled is something that I can justify needing to "just get over it."  I can't control any name-calling or pigeon-holing that might take place based on how someone interprets my words.

But I can't justify "just getting over" the obstacles on the list I created. We need to work through these, sometimes crush these… but we do ourselves a disservice to ignore or make light of them. Workplace challenges are very real.  Telling women to just get over it means telling them to play along to get along in corporate America - in the name of getting along with men.  This is not a new concept but what I keep seeing are articles and videos and speeches by women, for women, that tell us how to play the game.  Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In describes a lot of the challenges in corporate culture.  She lays out in the open the pitfalls women face when advancing their careers.  But her guidance to other women is very narrow.  Her own story, while true to her, isn't everyone's story.  Not all of us have a wonderfully supportive husband.  Not all of us have husbands.  Not all of us want to play the corporate game under the existing rules of engagement. Anne Marie Slaughter tells women they can't have it all… at least, not what they want when the want it.  Life is about making decisions but if you believe you can't have your all when and where you want it, then you're right. You won't. You already decided that.

The majority of advice women hear is about contorting themselves to conform to the man's game.  This still puts the control in the hands of men - we adjust our rhythms to a pattern men are comfortable and then we can get ahead. But I posit that men and women don't even define "having it all" the same way, so why are we playing their game?

There are two concepts I want to discuss throughout my next several blogs:

• First, the glass obstacle course is real.  Some obstacles are there as a result of history and culture.  Some are there because we women put them there.  It is worth the time to examine them and figure out the smartest way to get over them.  Some we will need to smash. Some we might rebuild into a new pathway through.  And some, well, we might just need to get over them.  
• Second, there's no denying office politics, corporate culture and games that are played when climbing the proverbial ladder.  You want to play that game - you want that c-level title?  Fine.  That's an admirable objective.  But does that mean you need to play their game? We need to explore our own power to change the rules and the outcomes of these games.  Educate our peers - male and female - on our expectations for the rules of engagement.

I invite you to join me on an exploration of the glass obstacle course and the rules of engagement.  Everyone's is a little bit different, but I bet many of the obstacles I've seen and faced are the same as yours.  We're not going to smash every obstacle, but we're going to do our best to avoid those tiny, painful slivers of glass when we do.  More than anything, we will have an honest conversation about what we want and how we go about getting it. On our terms.

As always, your comments and thoughts are welcome.  And don't forget to share this blog!

Obstacle #19 in the Glass Obstacle Course

Natalie Hahn O'Flaherty

DGC Principal

Who put that in my way?  Did I?

I sat at my desk a few weeks ago, waiting for a coworker.  We’ll call him Kevin.  Kevin and I have a standard weekly meeting, which we normally conduct by phone since we work several states apart. This particular week, he traveled to my local office and so when I ran into him in the hallway earlier in the day, he confirmed he’d come by my desk at our usual time. 

Our meeting time came and passed… and I was still at my desk, waiting. 

Five minutes before our meeting was scheduled to end, Kevin stops by.  The apology for missing our meeting was buried in a joke. There was no acknowledgement that despite ready access to email, text and IM, he did not take fifteen seconds to let me know he wasn’t going to make our scheduled time.

This is where the glass obstacle analogy comes in.  Today, a small action – or rather inaction – does not stop me from doing my work or from having positive work relationships.  But what if Kevin made this a habit? And what if others observe this behavior and figure they can easily blow off meetings with me as well?  After all, I try to be accommodating and flexible: we are all so busy and it seems like a little thing, but it sets a precedent for future behavior.  Behavior that becomes an obstacle to my ability to function as a leader.

What really bothered me about the situation was trying to figure out what made Kevin think that it was ok to skip the professional courtesy of a call in the first place.  I thought about a few of our male coworkers with whom I knew he also had meetings that day.  And I am pretty sure if he was running late or about to miss one of those meetings, they would have received some sort of message about it.  After all, this was a business meeting. Was there something in my behavior that indicated that I did not require equal treatment to my male peers? 

  

This also puts the power structure of our relationship in Kevin’s hands.  I’m not into power struggles with coworkers – too much work – but I’ve also got things to do. And if I’m always adjusting my work to Kevin’s pace, my stuff may not get done.  And certainly not on the schedule I am trying to meet.  So there’s a balance to be managed here, where we collaborate and are both getting what we need.

How do I get around this obstacle… a seemingly harmless act of disrespect… without damaging what has been, so far, a productive and positive working partnership?

I suspect if I put the question to Kevin directly, he would be surprised that I interpreted the missing communication as disrespectful.  That lack of awareness raises the question of how men generally treat women in the work place.  And how we respond in return. Is it easier to skip the professional niceties with me because as a woman, I’m not as likely to make a fuss?  Did I invite this behavior because I laugh at his jokes?  Do I sound like a harpy if I call him out on it?  There are already myriad studies that show how women struggle with being liked in the work place – and drawing a firm line is one way we get pegged as being strident or aggressive.  Or to use Sheryl Sandberg’s term… bossy.

Mrs. Roosevelt had it partly right: we do teach people how to treat us.  So it’s my job to tell Kevin, “Hey, my time is valuable and if you’re going to miss an appointment, you need to let me know.”  But she only had it partly right because some patterns of behavior were taught long before we came into the picture.  Men and women do treat each other differently, and I have long held the belief that what we perceive as sexism in the workplace is not just perpetuated by men, but by women too.  Some roles and behaviors are familiar to us, even though they may not be the best behaviors for success at work.

I still don't know if this particular glass obstacle is one I nudged into my path or one that has been there a while and I finally tripped over it.  I suppose it doesn't matter.  I just know it's there.  But now that I've bumped into it, I can scale it.

How many obstacles do you run into that seem innocuous?  We are so ready to excuse them.  But step back and examine the pattern… are they really so innocent?  

Lesson Three: What Lurks Beneath the Surface

Miles and miles of Texas oilfields. Endless horizon of hazy clouds.  An even, steady whirring comes from the backseat where my youngest is snoring.  My oldest is also dozing back there, headphones firmly implanted… the placement of the purple earbuds seems to be permanent.  In the front with me is my middle one, gazing at the endless panorama of dirt, scrub, tumbleweeds and oil field pumps.  There is no where to go but forward on the two lane road and there is no escape from the quiet inside our overpacked Toyota Corolla.

Quiet allows many things to happen… I can be with my own thoughts, let them roil and spread, and examine them more closely.  I can observe what's around me, what's happening and what's not happening, and take it in for what it is. Most important, in a quiet moment with another soul, you can listen.

In business, I have learned the value of silence. When you allow silence to hang, to expand into the space of that moment, to let silence alone be the answer… or sometimes the question… you learn more than if you tackled the topic directly.  Most of us are so uncomfortable with "awkward silences" that we rush to fill them.  And in our haste, the usual filters become flimsy - we are filling a void, not constructively participating in a dialogue.

Silence reveals the stuff beneath the surface.  In that meeting with the uncomfortable pause, you can observe which of your coworkers rushes to fill that void first, and what he/she fills it with.  Sometimes the information filling the void can be more uncomfortable than the original silence.  You have to learn in those moments not to respond to the rush, not to help the other person fill the void.  But listen carefully to what he or she is filling it with and decide, consciously, how to respond. It can be tough. Because what he/she fills it with is a little bit like receiving a drunk text at midnight from one of them - it's raw, unfiltered thought.  But it's definitely enlightening.

Lesson Three: What lurks below doesn't have to be filled with drama
Teens are different, however. Have you met a teen uncomfortable with silence? Mine are not.  After a brief conversation about the history of the oil fields - David is a history buff and could share plenty of facts - he sat in that front seat for over an hour, not feeling the need to say a word. And not seeming antsy or bored, either.  As his mother, perhaps I should have been more concerned about the idea of him brooding or peppered him with questions about his school and his friends while we had a rare moment of just the two of us as his siblings slept.  But I let the silence be.

Dave occasionally turned to smile at me, or make a random comment… through these short conversations, I glimpsed what was going on underneath the surface of my son.  There is no big reveal here.  There was no dramatic confession, no sharing of secrets.  But in the quiet moments amid brush and big rigs, Dave let me see what was going on in his head, the inane, the serious, the funny. Silence was communication, too.  Recognition that we did not have to speak to be understood.

Sometimes, though, what lurks below is all drama
After hours of oil fields, we were ready for something different.  But rolling into Sonora, Texas, wasn't going to offer that to us. I was tempted to skip our planned sight-seeing - the Caverns at Sonora - and just head straight for New Orleans.  I rationalized that I may never be back in Sonora again, however, and should at least go take a peek.  Above ground, Sonora offered nothing but a Dairy Queen and Sonic Drive-In.  Not promising.

Below ground… the caverns were breathtaking.

We were on a two mile walk with a young tour guide named Logan from Wisconsin. He had come out to Sonora to work in the oil fields but wasn't old enough to drive the rigs, so he came to the caves.  When Logan turns 21, he plans to work in the oil fields and save money for college. Meanwhile, he worked in these beautiful underground tunnels that housed nature's secret artwork.

For one moment, Logan had us sit on wooden benches placed in a small cavern.  We had just come down 150 feet underground.  "I want you to see something," he said. "I need you all to sit very still and be very quiet."  And he tripped the light switch.

Absolute darkness.  Absolute silence.

"There are few places in the world where you can fully experience the loss of both sound and light.  But this is it."

Smashing Status Quo: Creating Pauses in the Change Process

If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading. (Lao Tzu)

Human beings are primed for patterns.  We love consistency and predictability. It gives us a sense of security and control.  It allows us to create our own comfortable sphere in which we can rule and relax.

It is a knee-jerk reaction for most of us to resist any new proposal, whether we're in our personal life sphere or our professional life one.

Can Brandon spend the night? No... I'm too tired...  

Can we adjust the agenda to include a benefits discussion?  Sorry, no time...

Should we implement that new marketing automation software? That will change our lead process... oh, dear...

Our "no" response has slipped through our lips before we've given most proposals even two full seconds of consideration.  

But when you are the leader of an initiative to alter the status quo, how do you manage the tsunami of resistance that is inevitably crashing against your sandy shores of change? 

You have to create pauses. That pause is a momentary reflection - for you. For your team. It gives you space to breathe and think about what is really about to happen and put it in perspective.

First pause: let's recognize the status quo. Openly acknowledge and understand that this is where we are today, and this is what it means. Take your team through an "impact analysis" (current-state, future-state, gap analysis) exercise.  It's a common exercise, but it's one we often forget to do in the context of helping our teams through the change process. Going through this exercise reveals several important points to - and about - your team:

• it provides an agreed-upon understanding what today looks like
• it ensures a shared vision for where you're going
• it involves everyone in identifying the "gaps"
• it will show you the different levels of self-awareness among your team members
• it will show you who's bought in, who's not, and how far you have to go

Progress is a nice word. But change is a motivator. And change has its enemies. (Robert Kennedy)

The impact analysis exercise will help you identify who on your team can be helpful change agents, and who is going to require some nurturing to get them to the desired end state. While you want to employ your champions to help drive necessary actions, you also want to coach them along helping their more reluctant team members to open up to change. If your champions merely push forward with implementing change, they will be seen as puppets of the regime, enforcing an agenda... not a team player working to improve the business.

One way to help shake up the status quo way of thinking, and empower your team to embrace new and original approaches, is to stop talking and give them something to do.  Second pause: exercises that test their mettle when faced with non-traditional dilemmas.  Do you recall the exercise Mel Gibson went through in "What Women Want"?  He put on pantyhose, wore lipstick, tried to figure out how it felt to be a woman.  Way outside his comfort zone. Maybe you don't have to go that far, but looking at problem from a different point of view - from a different constituent, from a different industry - can be enlightening.  Or think about it from the "Apollo 13" angle: you have a limited number of supplies and you have to solve a life-saving problem - how can you use those tools, not at all designed for your problem, to save lives? 

Less dramatic but no less illuminating is an example I read about in an article last week: hand your team a candle, a book of matches and a box of thumbtacks.  Their mission is to somehow attach the candle to the wall, light it and ensure no wax drips on the floor or wall.  What do you do?  You empty the box of thumbtacks, tack the box to the wall and put the candle in it.  Who in your group, however, will literally think "outside the box"?  But once they see the light (pun intended)... you've shaken up the status quo.

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked, "If this were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" 

And if the answer is "no" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.  (Steve Jobs)

Sometimes going beyond simple acknowledgement can help your team let go of an entrenched pattern. Years ago when we were integrating a new team from a company we had recently acquired, I was battling the newcomers over the fact that we were changing the product name to be more in line with our corporate standards. While logically the team understood why we were making the change, there was still resentment and concern over the process.  Third pause: a mentor of mine made a suggestion that I thought was bizarre... and yet... at that stage I had nothing to lose and after pausing long enough to consider what affect it could have, we did it. We hosted a funeral.  The old product name was dead, but the spirit of the product lives on... in a different name, of course.  But the act of hosting a funeral - well, truthfully, more like an Irish wake with many rounds of Guinness and some great story-telling - allowed the acquired team to both laugh at the absurdity and mark the end of an era.  

We can't always promise that change is for the better. We can't ensure that every team member will embrace it and go forth. But we can be sensitive to the fact that our patterns are ingrained in us, for better and for worse, and if we work with them instead of pushing so hard against them, we can move forward a lot farther and a lot faster.  So pause. Breathe. Reflect. And then find a new way to smash through that status quo that brings everyone along with you, and not just staring at shattered pieces.