Week in Women: Gender at Work and Sheryl Sandberg

Sheryl Sandberg is both right and wrong. Her recent comments about employers asking women about getting pregnant before hiring have understandably elicited quite a backlash. Perhaps they were well-intentioned, because of course we do need a more open dialogue about gender in the workplace.

She says we need to lean in, be more ambitious, be more assertive. She fails to address the gaping fact that those who are leaning in aren't getting anywhere. Only 17% of Fortune 500 board seats are held by women, only 3% of board presidents are women, but if you're reading this, you probably know that. As we've discussed, the Ambition Gap is a myth.

Here are some good links:

Background on Sandberg and some interesting numbers on gender in the workplace.

The best response to her pregnancy comments I've seen, in which Kristof calls for structural, accommodating changes in the workplace paired with ambitious women.

Horrible suggestions from Aol about negotiating raises and fair pay. Basically, do your best to perpetuate stereotypes, and you might get a higher salary.

Pair this article with the number of dishes John washes, and we are going to have one crazy ambitious daughter. Wahoo!

Women and the Likeability Gap, Ambition Gap, and Fortune 500 Report

From Lisa Congdon's blog - 365 Days of Hand Lettering. 

Today, we have sad news for women: the Afghan Head of Women's Affairs was assassinated. This is the second time in six months that the person in this position has been killed.

Luckily, we also have some good news.

No Such Thing

Hi, friends!

Did you see this article in Newsweek recently? Debora Spar, President of Barnard College, presents the reality about successful women. She asks why feminism, which was meant to make us happy, often makes us so miserable!

As an advocate for women's college and a lady attempting to "do it all," this caught my attention immediately. Debora asks us to remember feminism at its beginning, rooted in sisterhood and community. A joint venture for social good.

Here's a confession: I've always been a silly perfectionist. Tell us something we don't know, you're thinking. I've been way too hard on myself, which leads me to be too hard on others. I try, sometimes successfully and sometimes not, to avoid this. As Debora says, I consistently feel pressure to try to excel in two jobs, develop my blog, be in hot yoga as much as possible, "impress" John with interesting meals, take Herbie on long walks, design our home, and be a good friend, sister, and daughter - all while wearing the sexiest shoes I can find. When I fail - which, as she points out, is inevitable - I get annoyed. At myself. This, as you can imagine, is really productive.

Why can't we accept, as Debora suggests, that something's got to give? Why are women always comparing, one-upping, degrading the ladies around them who seem to be doing it all - or worse, the ones who seem to be failing? I fall into this trap more often than I'd like to admit. Why aren't we celebrating each others' triumphs and taking care of each others' kids and animals? Why aren't we bringing back the potluck dinner? The old, trusty neighborhood women's unit - we need that back.

I got a big dose of sisterhood at Converse, and I'm thankful. Women in the work force are often, I've found, trying to take the other females around them down a notch. It's hard to respond to that with grace and dignity; in fact, sometimes it seems easier to just go to bat. Show up and fight back.

How is that going to get us the 23 cents we need to match the male dollar? I don't know.

Let's not be perfect anymore. Let's be messy, let's call each other and frantically beg for babysitting, and let's not roll our eyes when we do. Let's be nice and make lives that matter.

 xo.

Our Wedding {Reception 1}

Hello friends!

So many of you played a huge role in making this past year special for us, and these photos are a constant reminder of that. It's so nice to share them with you!

"For the first time as husband and wife..."

I love that my dad and I are making exactly the same face.

Our First Dance was "I Want You to Want Me," which was an early inside joke (pre-dating!) that later became our token song. 

The Southern Belle

Moving back to the South - and being unexpectedly content with it - has left me reflecting on what it means to be a Southern lady. I loved this beautiful article from Garden and Gun last year about what sets us apart. To be born a Southern woman is to be made aware of your distinctiveness.

As Allison Glock says, Southern women have a lot of pride. Here's why:

1. We are caretakers.
2. We use an abundance of salt when cooking. Just ask John.
3. We are willing to give (time, food, hugs, advice).
4. We are tied to history...when you carry in your bones the incontrovertible knowledge of man's violence and limitations, daring to stay sweet is about the most radical thing you can do.
5. We know how to make other women feel pretty. This is important to us - to let our friends know how wonderful they are. Friendship is one of the only things we have.
6. And of course, Southern women know the value of a stiff drink.

There's something irresistible about a woman who's not afraid of a little butter (I said a little, Paula Deen) and who can make you feel at home even when you're hundreds of miles away. There's something sexy about having enough self-respect to put on a nice dress and curl your hair, knowing it's about presentation rather than vanity. Perhaps we have it best in the 21st century, with the freedom to choose which Southern Lady rules to follow and which ones to break.

Thanks, Garden and Gun, for assigning words to something we live every day. You're much more eloquent than those "Southern girl" AIM profiles that were copied and pasted all the way into 2009. You describe us as good-humored, with a wisdom all our own, and we think you're right. You understand us, and we love you for it.

My grandmother, a beautiful Southern lady if I've ever seen one.

My aunt in Augusta, GA,  wearing a beautiful dress chosen by her mother, above.