Female interviewers

First of all, I'd like to thank the lovely people of this blog for extending me an invitation to be a part of it.

Second, I'd like to raise an issue that has bothered me for my entire academic and working life. I'm curious if others have felt the same way.

Like oh so many others, I've been on my callback tour. At one firm, they apologized that there were no female interviewers on the list and offered to find some should I so desire. I didn't want to tell them that female interviewers make me nervous.

In general, I relate less well to females in superior positions than males - professors, bosses, interviewers, etc. I used to call myself a misogynist as a result, sometimes choosing classes in such a manner as to avoid female professors. Always nagging at the back of my mind was the notion that deep down inside I sexualized every relationship, and being a generally heterosexual female, I related better to men because I objectified them as potential sexual objects, no matter how old, married, or decrepit they were.

Maybe it's also a jealousy issue - as a woman striving to be successful, women more successful than myself are a threat, filling the quota of the necessary female career woman in whatever job sector they happen to inhabit.

What really bothers me is that I know that were I to be in the position of the interviewer, I would expect more out of a female candidate than out of a male one - she would have to be better qualified, more articulate, more dominating than her male counterparts. I remember hearing muttered expression of resentment by male classmates that us girls had it easier getting into college - we were women after all. That attitude permeated my awareness and made me furious - I wasn't just equally qualified, I was better qualified. And perhaps as a result, I am harsher in judging women than men, and assume that my superiors view me in the same way, contributing in another way to my discomfort with female interviewers.

Speak up?

It's hard not to notice that women participate unevenly in classroom discussion in law school. At least at my school, women make up half the class in terms of numbers, but class participation is dominated by men. Generally, cold-calling levels the field somewhat, but almost all professors will call on student volunteers, and most volunteers are men.

Among other things, this leads to enchanting discussions of family and property law better suited to the 18th century, in which we learn our classmates believe that women only have their own money if they inherit it, that women should be cut off without a penny if they dare to divorce the breadwinner husband, and that we really can't assume a woman contributes 50% to the marriage to begin with.

Now, this is usually not an instance of biased professors refusing to call on women or of disuasion of female students who raise their hands. Many women just aren't raising their hands. There are exceptions, of course, but on the whole the pattern is obvious.

Typically, discussion of this issue focuses on why women don't participate more: are women shy? are they less confident? less prepared? less opinionated? less argumentative?

The answer certainly varies by person. I rarely talk in class. Sometimes it's because I convince myself that whatever thought is crossing my mind in class is not important enough to mention. Or because I think my questions will probably become clear to me if I just think about it a little more. Or because the answer to a question the professor asked is so obvious everyone knows it. Or because I believe the issue is probably already covered in the reading somewhere.

Last year, the women's group on campus sponsored a talk with one of the prominent women faculty members and women students from all classes. Not surprisingly, we talked about this quite a bit. Many women shared similar reasons for not talking. Others felt their points of view reflecting feminist views or equity rationales were shot down by professors or other students.

On the whole, it seems women worry more before they raise their hands, and are more likely to be discouraged from participating by professor or student reactions.

Maybe, maybe not. Does it sound right to you?

But these answers may be addressing the wrong question--or, at least, only part of the question. A better inquiry, I think, does not presume that the antiquated and unchallenged way law schools teach students is the "right" way and we should just encourage women to conform to this method in order to "succeed."

Thoughts?