By Jena Thompson, CEO, Ocelot Company
Years ago, I was on a forest site visit with a super sharp mom who had recently given birth to a baby. Mom was an expert in water, carbon, and sustainability — representing a donor to the organization for which I worked. We were on a remote road within one of the redwood and Douglas fir forests the organization managed. The forests’ rivers, streams, and tributaries were home for steelhead and coho salmon. And they were glorious. Emerald green, blue, and remote.
Before we left our hotel that morning, we’d planned our itinerary to see some key water and carbon monitoring sites, and a stop for lunch. She asked if we could make an extra stop in the woods for her to pump. I chatted briefly with the head timber manager about the arrangements, and he didn’t blink. Absolutely. You name the place and the time. We’ll pull over.
After a few hours walking the forests and checking out the river, the timber manager pulled his truck over on a shadier shoulder of an old logging road. He and I walked away from the truck so that Mom had privacy. He’d made sure there was room in the cooler for the breast milk, and ice to keep it cool until we could get back to the hotel and she could freeze the milk or pop it into the mini fridge.
I don’t remember any business decisions, or project-specific takeaways from our site visit. But I do remember feeling so proud to be part of a team led by a male forester who didn’t miss a beat at taking extra time so Mom could pump in his truck.
Today, I marvel at how brave she was to ask for what she needed.
While the forestry executives, head timber manager, registered forester, and lead forest analyst were male, our team then had two foresters who identified as female, as well as a female community liaison. Would they feel comfortable making a pit-stop to pump when or if they had their babies?
I wouldn’t have.
A few years earlier, when I was still nursing my son, I pumped on dirty airport floors, and before and after our board meetings. Maybe if there was a break for lunch, I’d run back to the hotel room with a plate from the buffet, and try to balance my laptop, lunch, and milk bottles on a pillow, while I stuffed some food into my piehole, and chugged another gallon of water.
There was simply no way I’d leave a board session or management training outside of a scheduled lunch or dinner break. Invitations to these events were coveted. If I was back in my hotel room pumping, I was missing 1:1s with my supervisor, or general down time catching up and sharing ideas with my peers. That lunch might be the only time I had with my boss for an in-person end-of-year review. My bonus might be on the line. Or the business case I was making to promote someone on my team might go unheard. I couldn’t miss that. Instead, I chose to maximize face time with the executives and avoid asking for what my body needed.
As a result, I made the cross-country flight home with a fever and mastitis. Twice.
Vulnerability Has Consequences
The women in environmental, conservation, and forestry fields I know are brilliant, driven, and resilient. And under-represented. The forestry sector has less than 20% participation by women, and even less by people of color. We work harder and longer to prove we’re enough. Smart enough. Qualified enough. Dedicated enough. Tough enough. We spend extra time getting a second masters or PhD. We log in on our vacations. We call in from the carpool line, and the dentist, and the gynecologist, and then discount or downplay our overtime hours, (if we log them at all).
There’s a reason for this. Studies consistently show that it’s not as safe for women or people of color to express vulnerability, or advocate for themselves at work. Women often get feedback about their personalities rather than their work, and personality feedback is stereotyped. Nearly 80% of women recall being negatively described as emotional, vs. 23% of non-binary people and only 11% of men.
Building Better Models
So, if asking for what we need is more likely to be stereotyped, gendered, and biased, why would we do it?
Because advocating for ourselves and others models the change we want to see. Because once we know better, we do better. Because once we see a woman we respect ask for what she needs in the woods, we can ask for the same (or maybe even for more) for ourselves and our teams, too.
That’s why I love the Women’s Forest Congress. It’s an open and inclusive group – trans, non-binary, and gender non-conforming participants are welcome, as are women and allies of all ages, perspectives, cultural backgrounds, professional levels, abilities, and education. We share our experience and our stories (our victories and our failures) to learn from and support one another.
We make change.
To the mom in the woods who asked for what she needed, thank you. We noticed. And we’ve done better ever since.
Resources to share:
Textio Report: Who Gets the Most Useless Feedback at Work?
Forbes: Black Women are Less Likely to Get Quality Feedback at Work.
TedX: Why you should not bring your authentic self to work | Jodi-Ann Burey | TEDxSeattle
Inclusion on Purpose: An Intersectional Approach to Creating a Culture of Belonging at Work, by Ruchika T. Malhotra (Author), Ijeoma Oluo (Foreword)
Join us next month for our quarterly virtual gathering September 9, 1-2pm ET – Self Advocacy: Articulating Values and Value Proposition. We’ll explore with Jena how we articulate what we want and need, and what we do best. Register.
Bio: Jena is a leadership and career coach, storyteller, and environmental leader committed to making the world a better place for wildlife and people. After nearly 20 years on the road pioneering impact campaigns for global companies, she’s now working to create a more sustainable version of herself.