Sunday, December 20, 2009

The Laws of Men and Women in the Workplace - Part II

More observations. For numbers 1 - 3 1/2, see my prior post: The Laws of Men and Women in the Workplace - Part I

4.   Respect people's schedules and non-work lives. Plan to accomplish work, whenever possible, during relatively normal business hours. All of us in this line of work understand that we will have to work a lot of nights and weekends, that we have to be available at odd hours, and that we will have to miss family time, vacations, and other personal commitments from time to time. That's part of our reality. But there are times when it is unavoidably necessary, and times when its simply a matter of one person's scheduling priorities being deemed more valuable than another's. Save the crazy hours for when it is truly necessary, based on extreme deadlines and court/client-imposed obligations, not based on poor planning of other lawyers whose nights and weekends are free. This is important to everyone-not just women-but women are often particularly sensitive about commenting on it because they are concerned (justly) that complaints will be perceived as whining or as evidence that women are not able to survive in our workplace.
Consider the following examples:
  • How many times have you heard someone embrace both of the following parallel but inconsistent thoughts: (a) "Let's not schedule the meetings for Thursday afternoons because Joe is coaching his son's soccer team this fall. He's sgreat with the kids." And (b) "Jane couldn't make it. I think her daughter has a ballet recital or something. Who knows? Let's just go ahead without her."
  • How many times has someone convened a meeting at 4:30, rather than 3:30, simply because they lost track of time and had to go to the gym at lunch, without considering that day-care may have a 5:30 pick-up deadline?
One way to make clear to everyone that family and vacations and personal commitments are important is to be open about one's own. For example, don't just say, "I'll be out of pocket that day" (because you're embarrassed or worry you'll be judged for what you're going to be doing). Say, "I'm sorry. We can't do it Wednesday unless absolutely necessary because I promised my daughter I'd help her move." Be open about your other commitments. By doing so, you validate everyone else's complicated life and make it possible for us all to navigate each other's priorities more effectively.


         5.    Keep in mind that women tend to carry around huge loads of guilt. When we work full time, it is perceived as selfish and a "choice" we have made to the detriment of our children, lovers, etc.. We are constantly battling against that. We feel that we are failing everyone by not having enough time for anyone. For many women, if that burden becomes too great, work will be the first thing we will give up because that is the "correct" societal choice to make and we will be praised for it. As a result, it's important not to add to the guilt load of women associates. 


         6.   Don't make choices for a woman based on what you think she would want. Let her make them herself. For example, don't assume that someone will not want to work on a particular matter because it involves a lot of travel. If you want her to work on it, ask her. Give her the right to make that decision herself.


7. Do not assume that women will get along well with other women simply because we are all, well, women. Sometimes we like each other and sometimes we're incredibly hard on and competitive with each other. Women often get along better with men, particularly women who have succeeded in male institutions.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Laws of Men and Women in the Workplace: Part I


Some time ago, one of my male partners (back then, they were all male but one) asked me for some thoughts on working with female lawyers and how it may be different from working with other men.

Of course, I cannot speak for all women (or any men) or all situations. Just like men, we are more different than we are similar. But risking the sweeping generalization, I identified some loose commonalities and rules. I think they made sense to him. I know they have made sense to a few other women I have shared them with.

I would love to know from anyone who reads this whether they resonate with others, have application beyond law and beyond the male/female divide, and what else should be added.

Here are the first four observations, with more to follow later:

         1. Women tend to need more positive reinforcement and feedback than men. Women want to be thanked and praised, and silence is often taken as proof of failure, rather than proof that there is nothing worth commenting on. This doesn't require much. Just remember to say, "nice job," or "that was very helpful, thank you," and to pass along compliments from others, especially clients. The payback in loyalty and job enthusiasm can be huge. This is very closely related to point 5, to follow later.


          2. Women tend to be more quiet about their accomplishments than men, expecting that their successes will be "noticed." Women frequently will under- rather than overstate their role. This reticence causes two problems. First, it means that women's accomplishments are often overlooked. For example, when it comes to self-evaluations, there is a perception that everyone will blow his own horn and that self-reported achievements must be "taken with a grain of salt." Often, with women, the opposite is true and far from overstating, a woman is downplaying her role in a success. (This is all the more true if there are other women working on a matter who may hear what is said. The intra-woman social dynamic is complicated, and we are very hard on each other when the rules are broken.) Second, when a woman's achievements are not spontaneously "noticed," she is likely to fret about being unappreciated, which can be very destructive.


          3. This is related to 2 Women often will not ask for what they want, such as, to work on a particular case. If they do ask, they are likely to do it obliquely, hinting around without asking outright. It means you have to listen more carefully and be more proactive in offering opportunities. And like 2, there is lots of potential for hurt feelings if women feel they are "passed over" for something they wanted. (And yes, I do think women need to be taught to do these things (say what they want, comment on their own accomplishments, etc.), but only up to a point. It takes time to learn these skills; it requires someone to teach them; and even when a woman does develop these skills, she will rarely be as aggressive and clear as man. There has to be a meeting in a middle. Women have to adapt themselves to male-defined institutions, but men who want to work with women, have to adapt their institutions, too. Neither way of being is inherently superior.)


          3-1/2. There is a perverse corollary to 3, which is that women will often volunteer for thankless tasks if it seems like they need doing and otherwise will not be accomplished. Watch out to make sure young female associates are not agreeing to do too much non-billable stuff that is not going to be particularly valuable for them professionally, particularly house-keeping type stuff (such as, selecting and managing holiday cards to clients, serving on the art selection committee, etc.). If they are doing these things, make sure it is because of a genuine interest and do not allow any one person to do much of it. If it is important to the firm, make sure there are male associates doing similar tasks.

Monday, December 7, 2009

And Would-Be Poet



Sometimes I think all lawyers fancy themselves writers. In honor of this weekend's lovely snowfall, here is proof I am not unique:



Thirteen Ways of Looking at Snow

i.
Nothing sounds in the silence
Of the woods
Except each step
Balancing on the surface ice
Before breaking through
To snow.

ii.
Some creatures prefer the snow.
I have seen them in the woods:
The owl and wolf,
Garbed in white,
Long after the butterflies
Have flown for Mexico.

iii.
In the early days
Suffused with joy at the first snow and all else that was
New and clean, she lay down before him
And swept an angel in the drifts.

iv.
When the snow reaches
Nearly to your knees
You will know the leeks
Are strong and sweet.

v.
Wrap yourself in white, if you will,
But you must know
Pristine and fragile as the virgin snow,
It cannot survive your touch.

vi.
Build her a house on the plain:
Build it square and strong.
Build it to withstand the snows.

vii.
A man with a woman
Is one.
A woman and the snow
Are one.

viii.
No living thing has touched
The snows on the far slope
Not even a blackbird.

ix.
At its edges, the field is brown.
But some snow remains
Not just as patches
In the center of the field
But also piled against the woodpile,
Too deep to fire the hearth.

x.
Do you see? She is
Like a single flake of snow
Dissolving to droplets on a glove,
Then darkening the spot just
Long enough to be remarked upon
Before disappearing.

xi.
They opposed her wish to move North,
Saying, “At the solstice the sun will never rise.”
They could not understand
It, seems, that the moon
Reflected on the snow shines
More brilliantly than the stars.

xii.
I find I have no words
That will describe for you
The azure cellophane blues of the Yucatan sea.
They say the Eskimos have thirty-seven words for snow.
How many words for white?

xiii.
I will melt
With the snow silently
Into Spring.

Monday, November 23, 2009

On Glass Ceilings



Maybe. Or, perhaps, it's just that the women, some of whom are highly perceptive, correctly see who gets the gold stars and who is expected to be good and do what they're told and wait. After a while, you know, they get tired, and they give up.

Erwin Griswold was the Dean of Harvard Law School (my alma mater) when women were first admitted: in 1950. During my 3L year, Dean Griswold returned to be feted as a hero of women's rights. I was a 3L and editor-in-chief of one of the law reviews. That made me a "woman leader" on campus and so, I was invited to meet with him.

Dean Griswold was very proud of himself on this august occasion. He told us selected few "women leaders" how, as a result of WWII and the important work that women did filling in for men who were fighting on the front, society widely perceived that women's roles had changed. As Dean Griswold explained, he precociously understood that, at long last, the time had come for Ivy League women lawyers (never mind that Yale had accepted women since 1919).

Given that realization "during the war," I asked why it had taken until 1950 for the first women to be admitted. A softball! Dean Griswold knew the answer to that one. Naturally, they couldn't admit women right away in 1945. That would have been terribly unfair to our boys, to have to give up their slots to women! They had had to wait three, four, even five years for this chance. (How many decades had the women been waiting?) So, Dean Griswold did the right thing, the fair thing, and made the decision to defer women until 1950 so that even more boys could go to law school. He was very self-righteous about that, and couldn't see any irony at all.

Things like that used to shock me. But I've grown up a lot since then. And yet, are there colleagues of mine who, perhaps, still cannot see the irony?

We have come far. And yet, there are still miles to go before we sleep.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Winning and Losing

We won a big case today, the culmination of my last eight years. I'm grinning from ear to ear. And yet, have you ever noticed that the wins are never as wonderful as the losses are terrible? Why is that? And is that the reason that we keep going? Because pure joy is so elusive?

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Courtesy

I'm recently back from a week in New Orleans on business. Each time I am in the deep South, I re-remember that it is still a different world, particularly when it comes to men and women.

In the South, the rules remain clear. Gentlemen open doors for women, and women? Women walk right through those open doors. They smile slightly, and say, "Thank you."

In the North, women like me tend to bristle over such things. We toss our heads at the courtesy, an annoyed moue broadcasting the thought, "I am no different from you, why hold the door for me?" We decline the offer: "No, really, that's ok. Please go ahead." The "please" is emphasized. Most Northern men (that forty-odd percent who still hold doors for women), shrug and do as they're told. But others - maybe their mothers were Southern, or more likely, their fathers - continue to insist. And the woman stands her ground, and the man keeps insisting, and everyone gets cold waiting for someone, anyone!, to walk through that door. Someone has to give in, and that's how it feels, like a surrender.

A true gentleman does not insist on forcing his courtesy on a woman. But any polite person - female or not - knows when to accept a courtesy with a smile without overthinking the underlying intent.

I'm still learning this lesson. As a young lawyer, I always stood my ground. "No, no, I can carry that 75 lb bag up four flights of court house stairs (in heels). Don't you dare try to help me." But somewhere along the way, I came to understand, all those gentlemen were my friends, and they were trying to help me. And what could possibly be wrong with that? And what could possibly be wrong with having the confidence in myself to understand that I am not lessened by accepting help or courtesy.

It's all in the intent. And truly, it's almost always good. So when in Rome, or New Orleans, walk through that door already!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Time

I'm paid - and to a significant extent, evaluated - by the minute. Or to be more precise, by the six-minute increment. At work, I account for my time in tenths of hours. Typically, people who do the type of work I do are expected to write up and "bill" at least 1850-2000 hours per year. Considerably more to rank near the top in billings. On the surface, that doesn't sound like so much. Over fifty weeks (allowing two weeks vacation), 2000 hours equates to forty hours per week, or eight hours per business day.

In practice, however, it's far more. Billable hours are the time submitted on a bill to a client, and it is a rare day when eight hours in the office nets even seven hours of billable time. Ethical lawyers don't bill for lunch, chit-chatting with their secretary, trips to the rest room, talking with their daughter's school on the phone, sending out the bills and paying vendors, writing articles for publication, managing the office, training younger lawyers, business development, or being diversity coordinator. Yet most of these activities must take place for the business to function, and all of them have to take place for life to function. In short, to bill eight hours takes at least ten in the office, maybe eleven or twelve.

Viewed from that perspective, working into the night and many weekends is the norm for most lawyers.

Ironically, the hardest time to bill is often the most harried. There are blocks of time--writing a lengthy court submission, trying a case--that easily translate to long hours. But those are the fun times for a lawyer. The hard days are the days when five different cases each have small crises. There are umpteen phone calls to clients and 238 separate emails to read and delete in between harried hallway conferences about the best strategy for responding to the newest demand.

You look up and it is eight o-clock. You've been glued to the phone and computer screen for twelve hours, and without realizing it, you skipped lunch. You'll be late home for dinner; your spouse will be angry and the children too exhausted to tell you about their days. But when you sit down to account for those hard-worked, hard-earned hours, they just don't add up.

Six minutes for this email exchange; twelve minutes for that call; half an hour here. Six maybe seven hours all told if you search that harried memory. You moved so fast and did so much the only thing you had no time to do was count the time. Where ever did it go?

Today was one of those days.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

With a Little Help from My Friends

From my first post, you might draw the wrong conclusion about my husband. His reaction to my becoming Diversity Coordinator was so remarkable to me because, usually, he is very supportive.

They say you need a supportive spouse to do what I do, and it's true. Of course, it's also an overstatement--it is possible to be both a single mother and a professional, but that's a whole different level of hard. Having a supportive spouse -- someone who shares the cooking and the child shuttling and coordinates work travel schedules with you -- certainly makes a tremendous difference.

My husband does do and share all of those things, and he deserves lots of credit. But why don't I deserve a lot of credit too? The "supportive spouse" conversation is universally one-directional. It is always the female professional who is saying, "I could not do it without the support. I am so lucky to have a husband who . . . . " When my male colleagues travel on business or take a client out for dinner, no one leans across the table and asks who is with the kids, following up with, "You know, you are so fortunate that your wife helps out so much around the house." And the oddest thing is, nearly twenty years as a lawyer and thirteen as a mother, and this disparity has only just occurred to me. Now, that's ingrained!

Sunday, October 4, 2009

"No One Would Want Your Life" - About my blog

I am a mother. I am also a senior partner in a national litigation law firm.
Several years ago, the law firm asked me to become its Diversity Coordinator. I had often spoken my mind about the scarcity of women in my world (at the time, 2 of our approximately 40 partners were female), but still, it was not a position I coveted. Diversity Coordinator is an important job, and a hard one, and the skills required to do it well are not necessarily the same skills that make an effective litigator.
Before accepting the post, I asked a lot of questions, and I did some hand-wringing, and I asked my closest confidants for advice. Most were in favor. But the deciding vote was my husband's. He was adamant that I should not do it, and he offered his two most persuasive arguments:

(1) "It's pointless: you will never be able to change anything."

(2) "And anyway, NO ONE WOULD WANT YOUR LIFE."

Well, I still think I can do anything if I just try hard enough. And it so happens that I like my life. It has its moments, of course, and there are days - lots of them - when I think, "I just can't do this any more!!!," - but most of the time, it's pretty good. My work is engaging and exciting; my children are marvelous (most of the time), and too, there are diversions. I love my chickens, and growing food, reading, writing poetry and skiing. I watch my children play baseball; I play my guitar; I bake bread; I waste countless hours on the internet. Occasionally, I even talk to my friends.

So, I had to become Diversity Coordinator, because it may be hectic, but if I can do it, anyone can. I haven't changed the world yet, but we're making progress. And somehow, the rest of life goes on.

This blog, about the ups and downs of one not-so-bad, cobbled together existence, is for everyone who is trying to "have it all," and if not quite getting "all," is managing to find a way to stitch a decent quilt from the pieces of all.

2012 - Please note, everything in this blog is "true," but not all of it is dead accurate. Meaning, sometimes, I homogenize experience for the sake of anonymity and story line. Questions? Post a comment and I'll respond.