Past generations of parents used to say that children should be seen and not heard. This meant that children were allowed to be present during a conversation, however, were not to speak unless they were spoken to first. Present generations of men in the workforce often think the same of their female counterparts, “scolding” them for having a voice as parents did to their children. I naively thought that, because my opinions were valued at school, they would also be valued at work; that if I worked hard and shared my insights with respect like I did in the classroom, I would succeed. During my experiences in the workforce, I felt like I shouldn’t raise my hand.
Growing up in an environment where my voice and opinion were always encouraged, I was met with a different reality in the workforce. Wanting to impress my manager and co-workers, I worked hard and diligently, seeking extra opportunities to learn and grow. I was encouraged to sit in on meetings, and contribute my thoughts in a strong, intelligent way. Beginning to understand when to listen and when to speak, I felt as if I was developing my professional voice. However, a couple of months into my co-op term, my manager informed me that a few of my male co-workers thought I was too direct, outspoken, and assertive, traits the male co-op on my team was applauded for.
My neutral expression in meetings quickly shifted to a smile; periods in emails were substituted for exclamation points and smiley faces. I was to be bubbly, friendly, and sweet because that was what was expected of me as a woman. I wasn’t a man, so I couldn’t act like one. Afraid to rub people the wrong way, I gladly took the role of meeting note-taker, writing down everything the male co-op on my team had to say. I was willing to be seen and not heard to change my negative reputation because what else could I do? If I didn’t fix my “attitude,” I risked sabotaging my future job opportunities.
For decades, women have had to defend their presence in the workforce, having to prove themselves as equally as qualified and capable as their male counterparts. But how can we prove ourselves as equal when we are penalized for trying? If having a seat at the table means acting and speaking the way men want us to, is that our seat or theirs? I quickly realized that to have a chance to climb the professional ladder, like all other women, I would have to play ball. Is it fair that women must jump through hoops to have the same job opportunities as men? No. But unfortunately, as of right now, that’s our reality. Hopefully one day women will be heard and not just seen, because I know I’d rather be the one speaking than the one taking notes.