Friday reflection
"I have no idea what that means."
Hi everyone,
This week’s reflection is longer than usual, because I have a story I want to share, that I think holds a lot of lessons that are valuable for this community, on several levels.
I hope you find it illuminating.
I was at an event last month and met a man who asked me what I did. I told him, "I help women tell their stories."
Him: "I have no idea what that means."
Really? You have "no idea" what it means?
Do you know what a woman is?
How about a story? So you see, when you put those two things together....
But seriously: I am wired to want to connect with people, and to use my communication superpowers to do so. So despite his rudeness, in the moment, I calculated that if my language was really that confusing for him, maybe that was good feedback for me. Maybe this was an opportunity to refine my own messaging, just as I spend my days helping women and women's organizations refine theirs.
I’ll admit, I do struggle with my use of the word "story," because, while evocative, it means different things to different people ("Do you help women write memoirs?" "No, not quite..."). I've chosen to use it anyway, though, on purpose, because I think the spirit of the word conveys the essence of what I stand for and what I offer, and the questions it occasionally raises are usually ones that intrigue my ideal client, rather than confusing or alienating her... leading to more engagement with me, not less.
But I do think about this a lot.
And so, I persisted.
"I help women get clear on the stories they want to tell about themselves," I explained. "Especially about their work and their careers, what they're up to in the world. And then I help them find the words to express themselves. And often, I help them craft an online presence that amplifies those words."
Without missing a beat, he said, "I'm pretty sure men need help with that, too."
👀
"Yes," I replied. "But men haven't suffered thousands of years of conditioning and oppression to keep them quiet and small. So I am more moved to help women."
My answer wasn't actually quite that snappy. It was definitely less confrontational. But some version of the same message came through, albeit politely. Soon I turned the conversation in a new direction, before making a beeline for my husband to tell him what a jerk this guy was.
Now, this might have just been an annoying moment, but I found myself seething for hours, days, and weeks afterwards. I’m guessing you know what that feels like.
I started to question: Was I upset because he'd exposed a weakness in my messaging? Was I that incapable of receiving criticism? Was I spiraling because I, "messaging expert," had a shitty message? Had I been existing in a bubble, where I was preaching to the choir, and did that suggest a fundamental limit to the impact I would be able to have in the world?
(My goodness, it’s exhausting just to type this.)
But then I started thinking: Whenever I tell a woman what I do, her eyes light up. Even if she doesn't know exactly what it means "to tell women's stories," she understands the spirit of what I stand for: Helping women express themselves more. And she's drawn to it. If she wants more details, she asks for them, and I provide them, and very soon she's nodding: "Yes, I get it."
She never says, "I have no idea what that means."
She never says, "But what about the men?!"
As many of you know, I always tell my clients, "We are trying to find the people who are trying to find us." That dude was not "trying to find me." He was trying to debate me. Some might argue that I could have more impact if I tried to convert folks like him, but...
Nah. There are so many of us — not just women but good men and people of all gender identities — who are already converted. It's not my job to educate everyone about patriarchy, because that is impossible. Just like it's not your job to educate everyone about, say, why they might need to hire a designer instead of just doing it themselves, or why diversity matters. It's your job to be the fullest expression of yourself, to beam the story of who you are and what you offer out into the world, and to let it attract the people it attracts: the people who already understand the importance of investing in professional design, or diversity, or who "get" why we need more women's stories.
I realized, the reason I continued seething so long after my exchange with this dude was that I hadn't let my anger show in the moment. Instead, I kept my composure; I was patient, and appeared calm. I'm not advocating that we scream at people as a way of honoring our feelings, but I could have been represented myself more authentically in that moment. I could have said, "I'm sure you don't mean any harm, but I actually find that pretty offensive. Would you like to hear why?" If he declined, fine. But I would have felt like I had my own back more. I would have felt like I was more in integrity with myself. Like he hadn't cowed me into pushing myself down.
I was also upset with myself, because I wished I'd practiced what I always, always preach, and used my tagline to answer his question, "So, what do you do?" Instead of saying, "I help women tell their stories," I would have said, "I'm on a mission to fill the world with women's stories." I wonder, if I'd made it clear that this was a mission I was on, if he might have reacted differently. Maybe not. But I’d avoided that language because, in the moment, it felt like “too much.”
Fuck that. I have to stop worrying about seeming like “too much.”
Can you relate?
Finally, I realized that my prolonged anger/upset about this experience was also because, to put a fine point on it, it had been a micro aggression. I will admit — and it's a sign of my privilege that I am not proud of — that I tend to think of micro aggressions as things that happen to other people, so it took me a while to make the connection. But saying the equivalent of "Men's stories matter" is a lot like saying "All lives matter," in that what's dressed up as a "rational" argument is actually an act of verbal violence. When you consider the idea of "Men's stories matter" in the fuller context of women's history, it is an insidious attempt to reframe the point of view of the oppressed as itself being oppressive. It lets the oppressor dodge listening to the oppressed by trying to turn the tables. In other words, it attempts to once again give narrative control to the oppressor.
In other words, it's yet another attempt to shut women up.
(By the way, note my use of the word “narrative” just now. It always comes back to who is telling the story.)
I'm not suggesting this guy I met was trying to shut me up on any kind of conscious level (not that this lets him off the hook), and my point here isn't to roast him as an individual — my point, instead, is three-fold:
To say to the women reading this, who may have experienced similar micro-aggressions, "I see you, and here is a script you could consider having in your back pocket for next time." (As a reminder: "I'm sure you didn't mean any harm, but I actually found that pretty offensive. would you like to hear why?") To be clear, I am learning as I go, and am not an expert on managing micro aggressions by any stretch, so it's worth Googling to see if you find other language that feels better for you. I found this article useful, particularly the idea that responding in a way that "takes up space" (if you feel safe doing so).
To say to the men reading this, "Please don't do what he did. Please understand why how he behaved is a micro aggression and please commit to doing everything you can not to be a perpetrator of such." Reading this article is a good starting point. And finally...
To anyone reading this, if someone tells you they don't understand what you're saying, and they're someone you care about reaching, then take notice, take heart, and consider a new way of expressing yourself. But remember that not everyone is your person or the customer/employer/[fill in the blank] you're looking for. If they don't understand you, maybe that's a sign that you would be better served focusing your energies on other relationships.
It comes down to this: The more you resonate for some people, the less sense you'll make to others... and that's ok. If they don't get you, they don't get you. Maybe you don't get them, either. So go on with your bad self. Find your people. As a wise woman named Leslie Knope once said,
"Now go find your team. Get to work. Whatever that work is that you find worth doing. Do it, and find some people to love who'll do it with you."
You are a mighty force.
And I’m rooting for you.
- Amanda