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?

I looked up at my life the other day and wondered how I got where I am. I was busy working--and boy, was I working!--while also fretting about making sure the dog got his walk and dinner got made...and I found myself thinking, "gosh, the house needs cleaning in a major way!" And I felt very alone, like these worries were all mine, as though if I didn't worry about these things and do something about them, they'd never get taken care of.

I'm not sure when it became my job to take on all of these worries myself. This isn't a case of me discovering I am trapped in an oppressive sexist marriage. It's really psychological--I feel that I am the only one who CAN worry about these things, who CAN take care of them. I am weighed down by these weird gender expectations, and the only person I have to blame is myself!

I thought my generation was supposed to be free of all this gender baggage. Our men would be free of it too, and because of this lightened load, we, as women, would be able to pursue our dreams and ambitions without impediment.

Hah! What a load of hooey.

As a woman, I think I struggle more than my mother did. My mother threw her hands up and said, "Screw it! I'm going to do what people think I shouldn't, and propriety be damned!" It must have felt very freeing to her, to be able to accept that she was on a different path. I don't think my generation has the same opportunities to be unburdened. Today, it's not only acceptable, it's expected that we will "have it all"--the great career AND the equitable marriage AND the nice home AND AND AND.

Having it all, though, is harder than it looks. Not because it's not possible--I firmly believe that it is--but because we hinder ourselves from either enjoying it or getting it all. We guilt ourselves into thinking we don't deserve it all. We convince ourselves we have to give certain things up to get it all. We put off starting our families until we already have it all, so we don't feel as guilty about being working moms, or about taking maternity leave too early (and looking bad to management for taking maternity leave too early).

These are the wrong worries! We do deserve it all, and we don't have to give up the important things to have it all. And having it all doesn't mean the same thing to every woman--and it almost definitely doesn't mean the same thing to women as men.

Normally, I hardly wear any make-up.

During OCI, I wear it every day.

Normally, I live in jeans.

During OCI, I wear a skirt suit every day.

Normally, I strive for comfort over all else.

During OCI, I wear heels and panty hose and skirts.

Why? Well, some part of it is compliance with business formal attire, but some part of it is also wanting to look my best for an interview. I could wear a suit with pants, but experience tells me a skirt is generally going to be more successful. I could wear flats, but heels look better.

On some level, it's just part of the game. It's why we print our resumes on fancy ecru paper, why we smile until our faces fall off, why we carry around the snazzy leather portfolios.

It's worth recognizing, though, that most of my interviewers are male. At some point, does wanting to look nice--which by definition means comporting with traditional definitions of feminine beauty--start to challenge our feminist values?

Then again, is there an argument to be made that change is achieved within a profession, such that slapping on some lipstick today is worth the chance to join a firm and work to address the gender disparities in the future?

I suppose it's also a collective action problem: it would be impossible to get all women at all law schools around the country to agree to reject certain antiquated expectations, particularly since not all women agree on what these may be.

Of course, the old stand-by response is to wear whatever makes you happy because you don't want to work someplace where heels and make-up decide who gets callbacks. That's a bit naive, though--people are regularly judged based on their appearance for all sorts of things, and women more so. Not to mention that you'd never know anyways, unless you risked a few interviews of your own showing up make-up free and in flats--something I don't imagine many of us are interested in testing.

And, frankly, everyone would agree in principle with that platitude, but I have trouble accepting that every single woman at my law school simply prefers hose and heels to the more comfortable options for business formal attire.

So I wonder. Do you?