Reflections on a Turbulent Year
A year ago I sat in a now infamous conference session, trying to reconcile my presence at a CEO conference with the degrading words coming from the stage. I have been reflecting on why that day, and the following ones, have been so impactful on me, and whether the incident has had an impact on the industry.
The day before the that conference session, I had lunch with industry friends- all of whom I had met since starting my consulting business. We had a BYO lunch on the roof deck of a San Francisco office building. It was lovely to chat with peers, and feel the sense of camaraderie and belonging that I so rarely felt in the earlier years of my career.
Later that day, when I walked into the opening reception for the conference I felt immediately out of place. The reception attendees were almost exclusively older white men who already knew each other. There was a sense of camaraderie, but I was not a part of it. I did not belong. Being in that space brought me right back to the memories of being the odd one out at broker dealer conferences. Just as I had felt earlier in my career, I wanted to leave the room immediately and not return. But I stayed, as I have many times, because I knew that this was the kind of room where business happens. These are the rooms - full of industry executives and power brokers- where companies are acquired, where partnerships are formed, where careers are transformed. So I swallowed my discomfort, washed it down with hotel bar champagne, and stayed. And then returned the next day.
What I heard from the stage the next day made me nauseous. That feeling was compounded when I looked around the room and realized I was 1 of just 17 women at a conference of 200+ financial execs. I wondered- is it easier to degrade and objectify women when there are so few of us in the room? I also wondered if anyone would say the obvious, that this was not acceptable?
I didn’t think I would be one of the people to say something. I spent so much of my early career not rocking the boat and I was able to advance in my career partly because of my silence. The value of secret-keeping, silence, and discretion was (and still is) deeply embedded in my sense of professionalism.
I was terrified to speak out, afraid of the possible repercussions for my career, as a consultant to financial service firms that also prize silence and discretion. After consulting with trusted friends and colleagues, I decided I had to say something. I was able to do speak up only because Alex Chalekian, a male ally, broke the silence first, and because I knew that Rachel J. Robasciotti was willing to speak out as well. Looking back, it seems obvious what I should have done. But in that moment, it was risky. I am fortunate the chips fell as they did, and am grateful for the community that rallied around Alex, Rachel, and me.
Has our industry changed? I think that in many ways it has changed for the better - mostly on the awareness front. We still have a very long way to go. The progress that is most meaningful to me, is when people tell me they are now more willing to speak up when they witness degrading behavior. I hear this almost exclusively from women. Men- we need you in this movement too!
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Once you've worked in financial services, the secrecy seems normal. Of course, our discretion with clients’ private information is paramount. But in many firms, that same sense of secrecy pervades the workplace- not just in regards to the necessary discretion around client information - but also in covering up abuses of power including harassment and discrimination. The culture of secrecy in financial services is incredibly toxic and one of the reasons that women don't tend to thrive in the industry.
The past year- the media frenzy after the conference, publishing the Do Better series, hearing the overwhelming response to that series- all of these experiences have strengthened my conviction that this industry needs a shakeup. Let’s work together to make an industry where everyone belongs, and anyone can be a CEO.