A back room full of attractive, driven people got together Monday night over platters of roasted cauliflower and beer-braised chicken for an “Essay Club” (less commitment than a book club) about “Women in Charge.” I can’t remember the last time I had a chance to talk at length with smart people about one focused topic, and it was valuable time (reading the assigned essays in advance, the conversation itself, and the thoughts I keep coming back to in the wake of it).
At my end of the table, we had to keeping calling ourselves back to the fact that this is who we are in the conversation: three women with advanced degrees joined by two men who have founded startups and led companies, all of us living in New York City. Life does not suck for us — not even a little bit — when it comes to what and how we’re doing professionally right this moment.
And yet, we worry about why more women aren’t in charge, who is in charge and how to get more of us in those roles. We wonder how we can duck any curveballs about to be lobbied our way in the workplace.
Read the rest of my post over on Medium.
Photo credit: Chris Gold on Flickr
Posted in Life, Writing
Tagged balance, business, class, economics, essayclub, leadership, mentorship, nyc, parenting, race, women, work
Click here for Part 1 of Black Hair, Revisited.
During the first few weeks after my office moved from Midtown East to Times Square, I kept my eyes peeled for every new sight, and smelled every new smell. There was Bryant Park with its huge lawn to relax on, the bright lights late at night in the Square and all the tourists milling about at all times, making it difficult to grab a bit for lunch.
One day, when I was walking to Bryant Park to enjoy some time away from my desk, I looked over and saw what was surely a hole-in-the-wall Dominican salon. It had all the markers: a row of chairs with the stuffing falling out of the plastic seats, each supporting the ass of a woman who’s been waiting too long just to get her hair done. Some of those women were chatting away on Sidekicks, some were eating beans and rice from a Styrofoam container picked up at the bodega next store. Continue reading
For the original photos and stories on my ongoing hair saga, read my Black Hair Mommy blog posts.
So, I’ve lived here for two years now. Have had two years with my wonderful Black Hair Mommies, who go by Leona and Cynthia at Joseph Tyler Salon in Brooklyn. If you remember reading the blog posts I linked to above, you’ll know my efforts to grow out my hair have not been without humor or tribulation. Continue reading
If you go to any street fair in Brooklyn, you will pass food stands from “King Corn,” a stand with a couple dudes selling cocoa butter hacked straight from the gigantic cocoa nut itself and a couple of Black Power stands.
The Black Power stands sell t-shirts that say stuff like “Nappy and Proud,” with a silouhette of the Nubian Princess on it. Red, green, and yellow designs are predominant. Shirts deliver all manner of political message about not keeping the black man down and dating within your race. As you can imagine, I feel a bit of conflict and discomfort when I pass by my dose of Black Power. I don’t keep the black man down, but I don’t always date within my race either. Continue reading
For Black Hair Mommies, Part 1, click here.
For all my hair-related posts, click here.
This post is for all my black sisters, all my white sisters raising biracial babies and for my white girlfriends who are endlessly fascinated with my hair (as I am with theirs).
I was forlorn at having to leave my hairdresser back home when I moved. She was one of only a couple of women in the state who specialized in ethnic hair and I’d been seeing her every two months for close to four years. She outlasted a couple of my romantic relationships, that’s for sure. Still, Cassandra and I couldn’t figure out why we couldn’t get my hair to grow.
I know most of my readers are either white or male, so I’ll take a quick moment to explain the whole point of writing this post. The reason why you don’t see a lot of black women walking around with long hair is because our hair is exceedingly dry and delicate. (Unprocessed) Caucasian, Asian and Latina hair is strong and flexible like fishing line while our hair breaks like a filament of spun sugar. Continue reading