Kate was a recent graduate and the job she had with my company was her first. She was bright, bubbly, intelligent and engaging. But she was absolutely wrong for my business, and neither were we right for her. It was nobody’s fault.
Letting Kate go was the right thing for us and, importantly, the right thing for her.
With the benefit of hindsight, I’d have moved sooner but (my) youth and inexperience combined with an immovable propensity for optimism had me hoping it would all turn around.
I ran into Kate a little while ago. Still bubbly, engaging, sharp as a tack. And a recently appointed company CEO. I sort of lost myself for a second when she told me. Apart from the fact I felt a little older all of a sudden, as we stood there chatting, I was thrust back two decades to the conversation that I felt was so terrible, but she now wholeheartedly agrees helped propel her forward.
I felt like cheering, to be honest. She took that blow, early in her career, in her stride and didn’t look back. She took time to reflect, regroup and move forward. She didn’t blame anyone because there was nobody to blame. What a novel concept.
I found myself wondering if that’s a lost art, the art of resilience, especially among young women. And especially in the context of the ongoing narrative around gender; more specifically, that women get a raw deal.
In 2023 in Australia, being a woman in corporate or professional life, especially when starting a career, is a golden ticket. There is a hyper-vigilance toward perceived or actual gender bias, despite the fact that it has been illegal for decades to discriminate on the grounds of gender.
There are some who still think women, especially those in sectors such as tech and start-up, are coming from a handicap of “minus 1000”. I don’t agree.
What I’ve seen after 20 years in corporate life as a business founder, non-executive director, adviser and the 10 years in commercial media before that, is that women today have a better runway than any who’ve gone before us. We love to see it, too.
That there is a persistent narrative of female victimhood concurrently perplexes and infuriates me.
Women are not hopeless. We are not helpless. We have agency and access. We have the support and collaboration of our male colleagues and, in many cases, a head-start in the shape of things like gender quotas and, more broadly, a recognition that women bring a different skill set to the table.
The duelling narratives of “woman succeeding in her own right” versus “women must have an assisted pathway because of sexism” cannot coexist. Like my late father used to say, stop trying to ride one horse and lead another.
It’s like the corporate equivalent of the Madonna-Whore complex. We can’t be both. We can’t be equal in all things and requiring rescuing.
I realise some of you may hold a different view but let me use these examples. Wanting the government to pour more money into female founders, for example, is a surefire path to failure. What happens when that funding goes and the often-brutal realities of the real economy kick in?
Here’s the truth. The corporate environment doesn’t care if an idea is birthed by a man or a woman; it cares if the idea is commercially viable. The real world doesn’t care if the strategy is female; it cares if it’s sound and stands up to scrutiny.
When I was being prepped for emergency surgery a couple of years ago I didn’t care if my surgeon was “diverse”. I cared a great deal that he was competent.
The other factor to consider about this latent “women are victims” narrative is that it conditions younger women especially to believe that any role, opportunity or promotion they might miss out on happens because of a gender imbalance.
It robs them of the opportunity to self-reflect and consider that maybe there was a gap in their skills. Or their interview wasn’t strong enough. Or they’re not collaborative with their teammates. There are myriad reasons, in truth.
I’m fortunate in the sense that the women I was most influenced by growing up – my mother, Zia, and my Nonna – never considered themselves to be victims. Victimhood in any manifestation was just never part of our lexicon. Being a woman was never a thing, in the context of opportunity, capability or the expectation of hard work and perseverance.
I do believe there was a time when younger women weren’t constantly told progression was impossible without a quota, or a special program. Before some of you go into a tailspin, I’m not suggesting that there hasn’t been problematic bias in decades past. I’m old enough to write a book on it. But I am suggesting that the balance is out of whack.
What’s that got to do with my old mate, Kate? Lots, actually. She had a choice, all those years ago.
She could have sooked about it. Blamed me. Blamed the job. She didn’t. She levelled up. For a young grad, she rolled with that punch with resilience and smarts far beyond her years. She let her talent talk for her.
On a personal note, I feel a huge sense of pride to have played but a teeny tiny part in her career, albeit a fairly inauspicious role. Hearing the words “I’m the CEO” come from her mouth was wonderful.
For women, especially in 2023 and beyond, it comes down to a choice: of how we position ourselves and what narratives we buy into and ultimately perpetuate.
The first time I had to fire someone, I cried. It was a long time ago, admittedly, and as a boss I was as green as the young woman I had to let go. Kate is not her real name, but she knows I’m telling this story and is happy for me to do so. She agrees with me that it’s important. Let me explain why.