The Sheryl Sandberg Lean In story, and this response by Anne Marie Slaughter, reminded me of something I’d written last summer that speaks to the importance of supporting a wider range of peoples’ ambitions, even if we personally may be less ambitious.

FROM JUNE 2012:

I used to say you can have it all, but not at the same time—a cliché with some truth to it, though not my own concept, of course. Now more and more women with experience are coming out with this truth, following years of trying to pull it off. In the past, I didn’t think it was so important for mothers to hold high-level positions, I mean, being a mom is very important in itself, right? I’ve changed my mind, though. Yes, raising children is important, but women who are mothers really do need to be part of business and government at the highest levels in order to ensure balanced policymaking. Here’s a very good article wherein one woman from the highest ranks shares her experience and notes what needs to change.

 

I am reading Twilight of the Elites: America After Meritocracy by Chris Hayes and it discusses the problem we have in America now with a relatively small and non-diverse leadership of our institutions, insulated at the top, who’ve failed us. Hyper-competitiveness and ego (the whole work-time machismo thing of being there grinding away into the night is an example) plays a role in causing these folks to actually not have the best or even good solutions to many of the challenges we face as society.

Ensuring there are mothers in high-level government and business positions will help diversify the leadership and balance policymaking. So, to me, it’s not really so much about whether or not I personally “have it all.” I may not want “it all,” but some people do and being a parent should not keep them from achieving it.

A regular chick’s take on Lean In

I am not a career woman. I enjoy my work, I take it seriously and do a good job, but I’m under no delusions. I have a B.A. from a small Liberal Arts university. I’ve never made six-figures. I am working, right now, part time from home. Really, a nobody. And yet, Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In had something for me. I like to take lessons from wherever I can find them.

I’ve been enjoying the many reviews and online discussions about the book, and I  understand, even if I don’t necessarily agree with, many of the criticisms. Other, though, seem preemptively dismissive and angry, as this Salon piece notes.

One of the best commentaries I read on Lean In came from Penelope Trunk who observed, “Sheryl Sandberg is such an incredibly aberrant example of women at work…She is great. Smart. Driven. I get it. I am doing a life that she would hate. I thought I was a high performer, but Sheryl Sandberg has no time for people like me. I spent so many years working hard to get to the top, but the truth is that I’m not even close. I was never in the running. I am nothing like Sheryl Sandberg.” Trunk added, “Sheryl Sandberg gives up her kids like movie stars give up food: she wants a great career more than anything else.” Harsh, I know, but I don’t think she meant it in a mean way or meant that Sandberg doesn’t love her kids. She’s just…different.

I always used to think, regarding women who felt bad that they didn’t measure up to models and actresses, that they were out of their minds even thinking they were in the same league with these women to begin with. Women like Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition cover girl Kate Upton. The complaints about “the media” and women’s body image never quite resonated with me because I had already faced the reality: I am not a super model. Surely, most other women must know this too, shouldn’t they?

I once read a book called The Secrets of Skinny Chicks and found, really, no secrets, but just what one would expect. These women worked out a significant amount of time and they really, really watched what they ate. As one reviewer said “…this book absolutely does not pretend that you can be a Size 6 US without considerable deprivation; we’re talking 1200-1600 calories a day AND a two hour cardio and weights program, ladies. It’s also honest about wishing it could hate food; this is really not the book for anyone with much gusto about mealtime…” I kind of know. Before I had a kid, I worked out, actively, a couple hours a day, plus briskly walked a round trip of four miles to work. I just didn’t have that much else to do at the time. My life is different now and I accept it. You have to put in a certain amount of work to get certain results.

The same goes for careers. When Sheryl Sandberg was at Harvard, I was waitressing, partying, taking classes a couple at a time at community college and otherwise meandering through my twenties. I somehow made it out the other side with a degree and was able to hold decent jobs, but I don’t expect to be the billionaire superstar Sandberg is (by the way, she was also an aerobics instructor at one point). It really wouldn’t be fair. I can still learn from her, though, just like women can learn from the “Skinny Chicks,” super models and Upton, whose trainer describes her daily double sessions and multiple cleanse diets. Sandberg talks about going home for dinner at 5 and having taken a 3-month maternity leave like these were major breakthrough concessions she made for her family. The dedication to her work and the intensity with which she works is extraordinary and more than I’d be willing to put in, just like double workout sessions and super-strict diets are more than I’m willing to do to look a certain way.

As an aside, Upton’s trainer defends her “porkiness,” which, of course, is laughable, except that I can see that as lean and sexy as she is, Upton is fleshier than many other SI and Victoria’s Secret models. She’s somewhat approachable. Just like Sandberg.  In Lean In, her voice is friendly and diplomatic as she nods to caregiving being important and acknowledges “Many people are not interested in acquiring power, not because they lack ambition, but because they are living their lives as they desire. Some of the most important contributions to our world are made by caring for one person at a time…”

Understanding I’m not Sheryl Sandberg or Kate Upton, and not in their league, I can take notes from aspects of their successes I may be interested in achieving for myself to a lesser degree, keeping in mind the reality that I don’t have the will (or genetics or background at this point in my life) to take it to that level. I can still work out regularly and cut out extra junk and be in nice shape. I can speak up in business situations, be confident and lean in, where appropriate for me, and improve my place in the work world.

So with that, I’ll share some of the best points of Lean In that are applicable to women (anyone, really) in most jobs.

If you want or need something, ask for it. It never occurred to Sandberg, or anyone else at Google, that maybe pregnant employees could use parking spots closer to the building—until, that is, she got pregnant. After a mad rush to the office from a far flung spot, naseuous, she marched into Sergey Brin’s office and made her request. The company set up special parking for pregnant employees. Of course, you might get an answer of no, but you won’t know unless you ask.

Sit at the table. Sandberg tells of a Facebook meeting she hosted for Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner in which women on Geithner’s team hung back not even sitting at the table with the rest of the group—even when personally invited to sit there by Sandberg herself. I mean, really, I’m just a schlub and I know better than that. If there’s seats, take one. If you’re invited, gosh, it’s weird and rude not to take one. But, apparently the inferiority complex is so deeply ingrained into some women that they need extra cajoling.

When you don’t feel confident fake it. Pretty straightforward, read the book for more nuance.

Take initiative. Sandberg says, “The ability to learn is the most important quality a leader can have.” She cited data from Hewlett Packard that men will apply for a position if they meet 60 percent of the requirements and women only apply when they think they meet 100 percent of the criteria needed. “Women need to shift from thinking ‘I’m not ready to do that’ to thinking ‘I want to do that—and I’ll learn by doing it,’” she says.

At my first job out of college I was hired as a Communications Coordinator making 30K. I quickly realized I could easily do what they expected and was always asking for more work. I got sick of asking for more so instead I just started looking for things the organization needed and doing them. I took over the website (it was 1999 and having taken one web design class in college, I knew more than anyone else there at the time). Soon after, I outlined what I had been doing, suggested a title change and raise to 45K and they agreed. That’s my little pond story of initiative. As Sandberg notes, “…opportunities are not well defined but, instead, come from someone jumping in to do something. That something then becomes his job.”

Understand and work the system, even if the system is wrong. Sandberg discusses the many challenges women face with regard to powerful women being not well-liked and the trap of women who are nice being assumed incompetent and women who are competent assumed not nice. She acknowledges this is not right, but gives great advice on walking the line, nonetheless. Using a negotiation as an example, she advises women to “think personally, act communally,” prefacing the negotiation by explaining they know women often get paid less than men so they are going to negotiate rather than accept the original offer. “By doing so, women position themselves as connected to a group and not just out for themselves, in effect they are negotiating for all women.” Sandberg advises the use of the word “we” instead of “I” whenever possible. She warns, though, that a communal approach is not enough and women must also provide a legitimate explanation for the negotiation.

Combine niceness with insistence. This piggybacks on the previous idea. Sandberg cites Mary Sue Coleman, president of the University of Michigan, who says this means being “relentlessly pleasant.” This involves “smiling frequently, expressing appreciation and concern, invoking common interests, emphasizing larger goals” and approaching situations as solving a problem as opposed to being critical.

Speak up, stand up. Sandberg talks a lot about how men in power can help women by standing up for them in key situations and she gives many encouraging examples of when this was done for her. She notes Ken Chenault, CEO of American Express, as a leader in this area who acknowledged that “in meetings, both men and women are likely to interrupt a woman and give credit to a man for an idea first proposed by a woman.” Chenault stops meetings to point this out when he sees it—making quite an impression coming from the top. Sandberg advises that anyone can do this, though. “A more junior woman (or man) can also intervene in the situation when a female colleague has been interrupted. She can gently but firmly tell the group, ‘Before we move on, I’d like to hear what [senior woman] had to say.’” Sandberg explains that this not only benefits the senior woman who was interrupted but boosts the junior woman as well, because speaking up for someone else demonstrates a communal spirit—and confidence—and shows the junior woman is both competent and nice.

In Lean In, Sandberg acknowledges the systemic issues women face that can make it more difficult to rise to the top, but also offers a useful mix of overarching ideas for society with nuts and bolts tips for women at work. Just like with the Skinny Chicks‘ secrets and a glimpse into Upton’s regimen, I can incorporate those ideas that fit my lifestyle, not expecting to find myself on the cover of Sports Illustrated’s Swimsuit Edition or in a C-Suite, but inspiring me to run that extra mile or to speak up with confidence on something I’m knowledgeable about with colleagues.

As a mother and a graphic designer/visual artist, I was very interested in the controversial TIME magazine cover highlighting its feature on Dr. William Sears and the the philosophy he espouses—attachment parenting.

I’ve posted my personal take on this “parenting philosophy” in the secret. And KellyNaturally.com has a very good commentary on the cover from an attachment parenting viewpoint.

Here, I’ll discuss the chosen cover image and its effectiveness from a communications standpoint.

First, the chosen cover:

Do you think TIME is aiming to portray what this mother is doing as good, or even normal?

Does the child look OK? Is he comfortable, relaxed, happy? (It should be noted that this is an actual mother and child, they are not models, and she actually does still breastfeed him. He is 3.)

In my view, the answers to all of these questions are NO.

The woman’s pose is somewhat defiant, though her stare is one of relative equanimity.

The child has to stand on a chair to reach her, rather than her coming to the child’s level.

Now, a contrasting cover shot that didn’t make the cut:

The child is in arms, eyes closed and the mother is seated.

She is non-combative, still with the look of calm on her face, but with her head tilted toward the child and her arms cradling him. He is in his own, peaceful, private world, unaware of the camera.

In spite of the child’s size, it’s far less jarring than the first photo. It probably still would have raised eyebrows in a culture where most don’t breastfeed past 6–12 months, but not as much as the chosen image.

My thoughts on the imagery and the public reaction:

In reading lots and lots of online comments on the cover—from people who did read the article, but mostly people who apparently did not read it (they didn’t know the mom and son were real, for example)—I found a range of reactions but they generally fell into some main categories.

Skeeved out

Many, many of the commenters felt this image of a preschool-age child breastfeeding was “gross, sick, repulsive and perverted” and expounded with comments accusing the mother of exploiting the child, saying that he is going to be made fun of when he’s older, saying this is going to make him “go gay,” and so on. Even as a proponent of breastfeeding for as long as is mutually agreeable to mother and child, I can understand how the average joe or jane citizen might find the image at least a little bit off-putting simply because the majority of Americans think breastfeeding is something for infants only and it’s not something they’re used to seeing. Still, I found many of the negative reactions to be needlessly angry and hostile. The jokes at the child’s expense were not funny to me

Pissed off, type A

Another sizable crop of reactions were defensive, likely focusing on the headline, “Are You Mom Enough?” Many women were offended by what they viewed as yet another endorsement of breastfeeding being pushed on them. The über-popular blogger Scary Mommy mocked up the cover expressing this, and her followers on Facebook mostly rallied in agreement. This is an interpretation I didn’t quite understand, admittedly not only because my own experience puts me in a very pro-breastfeeding place, but also because to me it seemed clear that TIME was not trying to present the practice depicted as something necessarily positive. The “Are You Mom Enough?” headline seemed to me to be sarcastic and when coupled with the assertion that “…attachment parenting drives some mothers to extremes…” it is made clearer that TIME was looking at this style of parenting with a critical eye, certainly not endorsing it wholesale (if at all).

Along with this sort of defensiveness, though to a lesser extent, was another, more predictable sort, complaining about the woman’s attractiveness and that she could not possibly be a breastfeeding mother and look like this. I’d say this might have been another strategy choice by TIME to inflict just a little pang of jealously among women, for not only are they competing in the area of “good mothering” but also in “hotness.”

Pissed off, type B

A smaller handful, mostly attachment parenting supporters, felt the cover was sensationalist for their own reasons: it not being representative of the reality of extended breastfeeding—which is usually considered to be breastfeeding for more than one year, but is not usually done quite so…shall we say…flagrantly as is depicted in the cover cover image. Indeed, one of the critical comments from a non-supporter of this kind of parenting snidely questioned whether this mom would pull her son aside for some breast milk after soccer practice if orange wedges weren’t good enough. Realistically, most people who breastfeed, still, at these older ages do it perhaps once or twice a day for bed time or quiet time alone at home.

Also the singular focus on breastfeeding for an article that was supposed to explore attachment parenting overall (of which breastfeeding is an important part, but only one of eight tenets) was puzzling to those who understand AP. This picture didn’t capture the spirit of attachment parenting that parents who practice identify with—mostly that it is very child-centered. (I think most people familiar with and supportive of attachment parenting would have preferred the second photo I show above.) Overall, it seemed to offend attachment parent proponents, though I did see one (and there could likely be more, but this is definitely a minority view) commenter that thought the cover was great in its defiance and her look of just daring someone to give her shit about how she chooses to raise her child.

Generally pissed off and fed up

Perhaps the most common response of all among those identifying as mothers was disgust at a media outlet once again “pitting women against each other” or “fueling the mommy wars.” These comments were often tagged on to those expressed by the previous A and B “pissed” versions, encompassing a range of secondary views on the matter, but generally saying “leave moms alone,” “we’ve had enough” and “we won’t play this game!”

Consensus?

So, what message did the cover convey? TIME skeeved out and pissed off a lot of people!

Obviously, it meant different things to different people—as images often do. But in this case, the meanings seemed particularly disparate.

If TIME sought to critique attachment parenting harshly, I would say it was somewhat effective conveying this with the cover, but not entirely. Many—moms especially—missed that point and were put on the defensive, thinking the question was straightforward and assuming they weren’t “Mom Enough” according to whatever this standard TIME was reporting on was.

If TIME was aiming to bring forth a better understanding of attachment parenting, the cover image was a huge fail, because it’s depicting something with many nuances in an extreme manner. It could be argued that TIME was trying to show one facet of attachment parenting—the so-called extremist—but I’m not sure that its audience is well-versed enough in the subtleties to actually understand that.

Some people chided TIME as a cheap rag scrambling for relevancy that has pulled stunts like this before, with a history of being provocative (Hitler as Man of the Year, 1938). Others reluctantly cheered its business savvy and marketing brilliance for stirring the pot and creating controversy to push sales, regardless of the quality of journalistic integrity.

I suppose it matters what your metric is—sales or clear messaging that gets your point across. Not knowing TIME’s aim (though I have my own suspicions) it’s not clear whether its message was conveyed, but if I had to call it, I’d say it’s a win in the attention grabbing/sales side but a lose in the clear messaging side—that much seems obvious.

I came across an intriguing post on Facebook the other day about what Barbie’s actual measurements would be if she were a real woman.

I reposted because the numbers had never hit me quite like that before and what first came to mind was poor Barbie—she can’t even walk upright and doesn’t get to eat much. I didn’t think poor me, I have to try to attain this body and it is so very hard to do so.

It started up a bit of a conversation between some who tended to agree that Barbies weren’t great for kids to play with and others who thought they were just fine and had fun memories of playing with them themselves. One commenter joked that she’d be every man’s dream and I wasn’t sure if she was being straight or facetious, but I thought, no, the average guy appreciates a nice set of boobs, but a figure like this would be, I hate to say it—laughable, and not truly desired by most men.

Personally, I don’t have a big problem with Barbie, but I think a lot of it might just be because she holds little power or interest in our house with my daughter. She’ll play with the dolls she has from time to time, but she prefers to build with blocks or make things out of paper, play doh, and stuff like that. I wondered, though, what Barbie means to my daughter. Now, I don’t know if she even knows Barbie, as in the blonde, name-brand iconic doll. She only has a Belle version (yeah, Belle from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, which she has never even seen, I think this just happened to be the doll they had at Giant when I got the idea to buy her a doll) and some cheap Japanese anime-looking thing my mother-in-law got her. So to her, they’re just dolls. But, do they hold any influence in terms of being “models” to her for what a woman should be?

I asked her some questions about the Belle Barbie and contrasted it with a flat wood child dress-up doll, as you can observe in the video opening this post. I think her responses reveal a mixed bag of meaning. She says that the doll looks like a real lady and in fact, looks like mommy. (Really? Gee, thanks!)

When asked what the doll does for a job, she assigns a job based on what she is doing at the time—art—as well as what she perceives my job to be (art). Beyond that, she seems mostly focused on hair length and style and doesn’t read the doll as particularly skinny. This in itself could be problematic to some, since, according to real measurements, she would be rather skinny, but then again, the child said the doll looked like me, who is not particularly skinny—which makes me think that maybe children are not as focused on weight as adults are (or at least my child is not).

However, when asked if she thinks everyone should look like the doll, she says yes, albeit with a mischievous looking grin. But when asked what happens to people if they don’t look like the doll, she says we have to make them look like “you,” meaning to me, like the real people. The rest of our conversation gives a bit of a jumbled perspective. She point blank says she feels good about herself and that the dolls don’t make her feel bad, and when pressed, she decides she’s had enough and exclaims “I’m busy!”

This is the part I love the most about the whole thing, I think. She was busy painting and humored me for a bit about the dolls, but then she just wanted to get back to what she was doing which was clearly more important than the dolls. It seemed to me that she wasn’t really interested in how the dolls looked in the same way adults would be (hence the disconnect between my questions and the kind of answers she was giving).

I don’t love Barbie, I just don’t see the doll as dangerous as some people do. I’m not saying that Barbies don’t represent an unrealistic image of the female form. It’s fairly obvious that they do. Some more than others. Nowadays there are a wide variety of Barbies. But what is less clear is how girls at various ages interpret this unrealistic form. And whether it matters. Few toys are realistic. Children have huge imaginations. And I just don’t know if younger girls are seeing these Barbies the way adult women (or ever older girls) do. Maybe my kid is not the best barometer of the damage Barbie can cause, since she’s not that into them. Still, I think her reactions to the questions about the dolls and their appearance and her own feelings were interesting in the way they didn’t fall in line completely with the kind of reaction one might expect—no noting the stark difference between the real mommy and the doll, no saying mommy was fatter, no giving the Barbie a fluff “job” like “princess” or something. She was very focused on the real people setting the tone for what went on and the dolls just being stand ins for us (even the flat little girl who played with wolves was a stand in for my daughter, herself, who is forever playing such make-believe stories). Most of all, though she just wanted to get back to painting her own picture!

I think what’s probably more important and effective than blaming plastic dolls for girls’ self doubt and unrealized potential is to make sure they have other stuff to do and other “role models” in the form of real, living, breathing women who are involved with them and not themselves emulating the Barbie lifestyle.

I went through a rough patch with weight when I was about 10–13 or 14. At first, I didn’t even know I was fat and I didn’t care. My mom, whether it was by strategy or by accident, was pretty nonchalant about it. I got lead roles in school plays as Evita (in a production highlighting various Broadway shows) and as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, so no discrimination there. (Not bragging, these were small potatoes, just saying to illustrate that I was obliviously confident back then, until….). It was only over some time and a series of events—a family member made a comment about my weight, kids were making fun of me, and an ineffective doctor asked me “Is there anything you want to talk to me about?” (to which I replied, uhm, no) and then he mentioned my weight—that I started to feel bad about myself. It had nothing to do with plastic dolls, but about real people in my world. Let’s not pass the buck to Barbie while failing to watch what we as people actually do and instead make sure we actively engage with our girls. Surely, living people can have more impact than dolls.

By the way, this is what I looked like during the interview. No makeup. Unwashed hair pulled into a braid. Decidedly un-Barbie-ish! I am currently about 10 lbs overweight and not usually glamorous, either. And, just for fun, a pic of me at 10 as Dorothy.