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Leaning In

Truth Thursday

I probably didn’t even need to read Sheryl Sandberg’s new book, “Lean In,” because by the time I actually picked it up, I had read so many reviews, and had seen so much commentary about the book and about her everywhere – and I mean everywhere – that I felt like I already knew its basic premise (but for the record, unlike some bloggers who have written about her, I did read it.) 

It’s essentially a 4^th wave feminism theory. It’s not that we need to burn our bras for independence (1^st 20th century wave.) It’s not that we have to dress like men with floppy bow ties and shapeless suits to make our way up the corporate ladder (2^nd wave.) It’s not that we have to be superwomen, balancing work and family seamlessly and pretending that it’s all rose petals and perfection, and at the same time, fight the backlash against women in the world, a la Susan Faludi (3^rd wave.)

It’s that we are still trying to find a way to be the working women we want to be, the moms we want to be, the spouses and partners we want to be, and the people we want to be. And we need tools and support to make that happen. 

It’s actually a really good message, despite its detractors. Sure, many have criticized Sandberg for being elitist, for being wealthy and white, for being high up on the corporate ladder where few women rest and therefore not being able to see down the rungs behind her, for being hetero-normative, for being married to a partner with the ability to be flexible and allow her to stretch her limits with a safety net, etc. etc. 

All of this is true. And there is the whole nagging other side of the question that she doesn’t really address – how the work world does (or does not) support and accommodate women and men and families. But none of this makes her message any less resonant in my mind. 

Revisiting: Ellen DeGeneres - The Generous Idol Worshipper

Truth Thursday

I've been following the Supreme Court hearings on California's Proposition 8 and the Defense of Marriage Act over the past two days with wonder and amazement. I believe that marriage equality is the civil rights issue of our generation. It took Obama some time -- some would posit too long -- but he has changed the course of human events in our country.

Earlier this week, NPR ran a great story about Ellen DeGeneres, which reminded me of a piece I had written three years ago about her and a conversation with my daughter, who was 10 at the time. Rereading it, it still says almost everything I want to say about this issue today (including the fact that I basically worship Ellen DeGeneres.)

So here's to the death of DOMA, the defeat of Prop 8, the growing understanding in our country that everyone should be free to love who they want, and that GLBT couples should be afforded the same marital rights and privileges (and headaches) as their straight neighbors.

 

And here's my paean to Ellen:

 

 

Sharing Saturday  

I was very excited about the selection of Ellen DeGeneres as the replacement for Paula Abdul on "American Idol" this season. I think she's hilarious and brave and beautiful, as well as a great foil to Simon.

My kids and I just discovered "Idol" last year – yes, I know we were about seven years too late, but never the less, it's great family entertainment. No cursing, no inappropriate plots, no kissing or yucky stuff, but just enough raciness and tension to keep me interested. And some decent music too.

When the selection of Ellen was announced, my 10-year-old daughter apparently heard her name as "Ellen The Generous." For a few weeks, she walked around thinking that Ellen The Generous would be the new Idol judge. For a lot of reasons, I love this moniker. But the best thing about Ellen's rise on Idol happened on our home turf.

My daughter and I were having a quick dinner after basketball practice, and we were laughing about the fact that she had thought Ellen's name was "The Generous." She asked who Ellen was. I told her she was a comic, and that she had her own talk show. She asked, "Like Oprah?  Like Tyra?" Indeed, I told her, and chuckled to myself because not too long ago she had trouble distinguishing between "Oprah" and "Opera" and she didn't understand why I also found that so funny.

Yahoo Goes Retro

Truth Thursday

I couldn’t possibly write about being a working mom this week without honing in on Marissa Mayers and her decision to disallow all Yahoo employees from working at home, whether they have a full or part-time telecommuting schedule, or just need a day to be at home to wait for the refrigerator repair guy and could get some work accomplished in the quiet of their kitchen.

I have a lot to say on this matter.

First and foremost, of course, the story didn’t start with this pronouncement. The story started over the summer when Mayers accepted the CEO position at Yahoo and about five minutes later announced she was pregnant with her first child. 

I have no problem with this, in theory. I don’t think women should have to hide their pregnancies in order to job search (or be recruited.) An employee who is good enough to hire is good enough to hire even if she needs a three-month parental leave soon after being hired. Employers who want to recruit and retain top talent should not be eliminating a large portion of their potential employee pool based on gender and age.

And having a top Internet company hire a woman for its top position was exciting. There was much buzz about what Mayers might bring to the table for Yahoo, a flailing operation.

The Power of the Pause - Unplugging in a Plugged-In World

Truth Thursday

Today on my train ride to New York, I sat across the aisle from a man who had out his laptop, his iPad and his iPhone, and he was using all three at once. I wasn’t clear on what he was really doing (it actually sounded like he was on the phone with a tech expert, trying to fix some password on his iPad) but he clearly thought he was being incredibly productive with all his technology at his fingertips on the go.

I, on the other hand, read two paper newspapers cover to cover and the first essay in a (paperback) book of literary essays I’ve been meaning to get to for a while. It was a gorgeous piece, about scent, memory and longing.

I didn’t look at my agendas for my meetings, and I didn’t answer any emails (as I did have my phone with me.) I spent three and a half hours sitting and thinking, reading for pleasure, and preparing myself mentally for a long day of meetings, but without electronics.

It felt both a little slothful and absolutely delightful.

There is a part of me that salivates over having a new gadget. I want an iPad so that I don’t have to schlep my laptop when I travel overseas.  I want a new iPhone since my 3GS is moving pretty slowly after almost two years. I love my iMac – it makes typing on my computer a pleasurable, tactile experience.

But I also fall on the other side of the technology trap. I have tried using an e-reader, but really prefer reading books – I like looking at their covers, feeling their pages, turning down a corner on something I want to remember. I like closing the book after reading the final page and the sense of satisfaction that comes with putting it on the shelf.

Seneca, Selma, Stonewall

Truth Thursday

Seneca, Selma, Stonewall.

Could there be a better alliteration to capture the purest moment of American democracy on display this week?

I’m incredibly moved by the linkage of these three civil rights movements. And incredibly grateful to live in a time and a place where the President – MY president – can invoke them in his inauguration speech.

I have spent most of my life caring about and fighting for reproductive rights and a woman’s right to choose. The images of the Seneca Falls convention, and the suffragettes, have always guided my view of the world. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t a feminist. Like my mother before me, I have marched, and rallied, and given money, and worked for the rights of women to live lives free of patriarchal derision, injustice and oppression. 

As for Selma, I was born the year Dr. King gave his iconic speech on the Mall, and only two when he led the march to Selma, Alabama, during which the Jewish spiritual leader, Abraham Joshua Heschel, described his feet as “praying.” Whenever I pray, Heschel’s image, linking spirituality with activism, resonates.

The civil rights movement was an integral part of my lessons growing up. I was raised in a Brooklyn neighborhood where I was one of only a few white kids – most of my friends and neighbors were African American. I understood -- in reverse -- what it meant to be the minority in the classroom. I memorized Langston Hughes’ “Mother to Son" (Life Ain’t No Crystal Stair) poem for a choral speaking contest, and sang the black national anthem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing” for Black History Month. When my parents shipped me out of my neighborhood to a white enclave for the rest of junior high school, it came as a culture shock.