Coming soon: The Work of Women (this site is officially under construction!)

I took more than a year off from working a “normal” job beginning the summer of 2015, shortly after turning thirty. I wrote a book and got an agent, I traveled, and I tried to come to a better understanding of who I was outside of an institutional identity bestowed upon me by a school or corporation. I needed to figure out who I was other than a “Yalie” or a “Googler” or a “techie” or a “frequenter of SF brunch eateries.” After ~16 months, I returned to the corporate world, joining Facebook, yet another famous (and sometimes infamous) institution, and it was while working there that I realized that my time off was only the beginning of a much longer, tougher journey. I continued hacking a new path through the underbrush of a life that had been defined by large organizations since my late teens, often stumbling along the way, but learning more in my two years at that company than I did in the five before. My learnings led me to a new job these last couple of months, as well as to a realization that I want to focus more of my free time on what I have found the most fulfilling in 10+ years in HR: helping women succeed and engaging with them in their careers.

When I look back over the last decade-plus, the moments that stand out to me are the ones in which I coached women to reach their full potential, often learning alongside them as I asked probing questions, gave advice, or simply provided a listening ear. I’ve had immense privilege to work with women who have what many would call high-powered or extremely successful careers–and I’ve still seen these women encounter and overcome obstacles that few men even have to consider. I’ve also seen peers, friends, and colleagues from different generations and backgrounds take on new personal and professional challenges despite of these obstacles, from switching career paths and starting their own businesses, to becoming first-time parents and navigating loss and change. Some of these colleagues and friends have sought my advice and help, professionally or otherwise, and it’s been a true joy to provide it, and to discover a new confidence in my ability to do so.

I’m therefore going to spend the next month or so transforming this personal blog into a new endeavor: The Work of Women. The Work of Women will be a blog and, hopefully, an online community where women and those who identify as women can learn and grow together as we face new challenges and opportunities in the workforce of the late 2010s and beyond! I’m still working on planned content, but I’m going to begin with a series of profiles of women in different careers and life-stages, with the goal of exposing readership to stories which will inspire them and make them look at their own career in a new light. I’m also tentatively planning a monthly book club, a newsletter, career tips drawing on my professional expertise, and, if there is enough interest, a regular advice post accepting questions from readers. (I should note that while my intended audience is women, men should still feel welcome to read, learn, comment, or write in if they feel so moved. This site will not, however, tolerate abusive or misogynistic comments or attitudes and is meant to be a safe, constructive space for women – so if misogyny’s your bag, please consider this your polite invitation to see yourself out now!).

Interested in learning more or have suggestions for content or other things you’d like to see on this site? Feel free to comment below, email me at jackie@theworkofwomen.com, and please do fill out the short survey here to express your interest:

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfmVrmIAZ4J29fC_UA3qJXt5DZGdRBqcYfGrwUF-TaOnBfOIA/viewform

Thank you so much for reading, and if you liked this post and this project, please do share on Facebook, Twitter, or other social media with your friends and family!

Happy New Year!

-Jackie

We Won’t Calm Down

“Calm down.”

“Take a breath.”

“Don’t get upset, that won’t solve anything.”

The above are some of the most infuriating phrases in the English language. I’ve been on the receiving end of them many a time, and they never fail to make me more upset, stressed, angry, or agitated than I was to begin with because of their disingenuousness. People say these things not to ease your mind or soothe you, but to help themselves, particularly when you are a woman. “Calm down, upsetting yourself isn’t going to help,” is really just code for, “Your blatant display of emotion is making me uncomfortable, and I’d like you to accommodate me by being quiet so I don’t have to help or address your concerns.”

We all occasionally get upset over nothing. It’s part of being human, and sometimes a blatant display of emotion isn’t helpful. When you getting worked up over a minor typo in an office email, or when a waiter gets your order wrong, or you can’t get cell reception, or you spill tomato soup on your brand-new white shirt, “calm down” is an appropriate, if ineffective, sentiment.

Now is not one of those times.

Over the next several weeks and months, Senators, Congresspeople, media pundits, men (and women) on the street, newspaper columnists, elite “thinkers,” people on Twitter and Facebook, and pretty much anyone in any position of power are all going to be beaming the same message out to the people of color, women, LGBTQIA+, indigenous and native peoples, and anyone else who dares to be angry, agitated, stressed, sad, or otherwise non-accepting of the tragically corrupt confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh to SCOTUS: “Calm down!”

“You’re being unreasonable,” they’ll say from their podiums and pulpits. “What’s done is done; there’s no use being upset about it,” they’ll sneer to protesting crowds. “What a dangerous time for our sons!” they’ll lament from verified Twitter accounts followed by dozens of Neo-Nazis and white supremacists and PUAs. “Things aren’t that bad; they’ve been worse before,” they’ll write condescendingly in their Medium columns catering to Bernie Bros. “So just calm down.”

No. I will not. My anger, and the anger of so many of my fellow citizens, is warranted and righteous. My fear and stress are reasonable. My wariness of a president and a party who confirmed a partisan hack to the Supreme Court while mocking sexual assault victims and complaining that freedom of speech and to protest, the concept upon which this nation was founded, is “embarrassing” is more than justified. I will not be gaslit. I am a grown-ass woman, and I’ve seen enough to know that we are going in the wrong direction much more quickly than anyone would have thought possible twenty-four months ago. If my rage and fear at our slide into fascism make you uncomfortable, well, that’s just too bad, because I’m not going to back down from expressing them. I’m not going to let anyone tell me or any other woman or survivor or marginalized community member that we’re being unreasonable.

This post is a reminder that I’ll come back to when I’m doubting myself, or when a pundit or a neighbor or the guy on the bus implore me to just chill out. Remember: they’re protecting themselves, not you, from guilt or laziness or facing their own privilege. And that’s their problem, not yours. And if they don’t like it, they can calm down.

It’s our turn to fight

I haven’t written in a long time because I was job-hunting. I have a new job now. So yeah, I’m back.

And this is my election post for the day (also found on FB).

Last night I was despondent. For a few moments, my depression reared its head in the ugliest way. I barely slept.

This morning, I realized a few things:

I am white
I am well-educated
I have an amazing job with amazing benefits
I have an amazing support system
I am cis-het
I live in California

Barring a national overturning of Roe v. Wade or an uptick in assault on women in general nationwide, my rights and I are ok for the foreseeable future. Which is why it is now my job to fight for others.

For people of color, ESPECIALLY women of color
For those who don’t have the chance to go to college
For the unemployed, under-employed, and disabled
For the uninsured or those soon to be uninsured
For the poor
For the LGBT community
For people in places like Flint (STILL NO CLEAN WATER Y’ALL) and Ferguson and Standing Rock.

If you are like me and you enjoy many tremendous privileges, it is also your time to fight.

In municipal politics
In state politics
In national politics
In our communities
In our homes

I’m scared tbh. But I know I’m not nearly as scared as those in the marginalized groups above. So it’s on me. It’s on us (that mostly means you, white people).

I start by setting up a monthly donation to Planned Parenthood, which will be crucial to the well-being of women and girls and even men in the coming months and years if the ACA goes down. And then I research my next steps.

To 2018 and beyond.

Much love.

Reminder: You Are an Actual Person

It’s been a hell of a week. I don’t need to link to any of what’s been going on because, well, if you don’t already know you must be a mermaid living in King Triton’s undersea realm who is too busy trying to trade your voice to a sea witch in order to marry a random human prince to pay attention to Land News(TM), in which case, good luck with that.

If you identify as a woman, you are probably having a lot of feelings right now. Anger. Sadness. Fear. Defiance. High Priestess Michelle Obama–First of her name, Mother of Dragons and Malia and Sasha,Harvester of Organic Vegetables–summed it all up pretty well, I think.

If you identify as a woman this week, you’re probably also experiencing flashbacks. Flashbacks to the time your classmate reached down your shirt and groped at your (still flat) chest during story time when you were six and said this meant you were his girlfriend. To the time when your middle school teacher looked a little too long at your bare, white, unshaven thirteen-year-old legs on the first warm May day in seventh grade and remarked that he was “grateful it was shorts season.” To the time when your roommate came home crying because a boy tried to pressure her into sex before she was ready and called her a tease for refusing. To the time your heart was pounding in your chest as you walked down the dark New York street at nine p.m., worried that the strange man on the corner, angry at having his catcalls ignored, would follow through on his threats to “fucking rape and kill you, you ugly fat bitch.”

To all the times you were made to feel like nothing more than a receptacle for men’s feelings, from lust to disgust to rage to impulses of violence. To all the times you were reduced to body parts: boobs and butts and legs and hair and midriffs and arms and feet (yes, even feet). To all the times on the sidewalk you were told, unprompted, to smile.

To all the times you were made to feel like less than human. Like less than a person.

One definition of feminism is “the radical notion that women are people.”

A reminder for you, because I’ve needed to remind myself so often this week: you are an actual person. A human being. A soul. You are more than the meat on your bones. More than a number on a scale of attractiveness or weight or both. More than a reflection of what some men (and women) hate about themselves and the state of a scary and changing world.

I am an actual person. You are an actual person, too.

I love you.

Good night.

Jackie’s 17 Steps for Drafting Your Young Adult Novel

I’M BAAAAACK! MISS ME, BITCHES?

It’s been a nutty couple of months. I’ve been doing job searching while also finishing a draft of a Young Adult novel (aka YA for the uninitiated). It may or may not ever see the light of day (aka the shelves of a bookstore), but I’m pretty proud of having finished it. So proud, in fact, that I thought I’d share the wisdom I gained throughout the writing process for all my 17 blog readers. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Step 1: Come up with an original, never-before-imagined idea for your book. HAHAHAHAHA LOL J/K THERE’S NOTHING NEW UNDER THE DYSTOPIAN CHILD-KILLING-GAMES-MY BOYFRIEND-IS-A-VAMPIRE SUN; pick your poison, put your twist on it, and move on.

Step 2: Draft a detailed outline of your book, including key plot developments, character introductions, and emotional arcs. This one is easy: open a word doc and begin with Chapter 1. Then, halfway through outlining Chapter 1, give up and just begin to wing it because who has time for this shit?

Step 3: Write about 5,000 words of your book and feel pretty good about it. You know what? This isn’t half-bad! Teens would like this, right? RIGHT?

Step 4: Re-read your first 5,000 words and realize they are TERRIBLE. Oh my God, my dog could have written this. Why am I even trying? WHY AM I EVEN ALIVE?

Step 5: Cry

Step 6: Remember the E.L. James is a published author of poorly-written plagiarized fan-fiction and get your shit together. YOU CAN DO THIS, YOU WILL DO THIS!

Step 7: Get to 25,000 words and feel pretty good about it. You like your protagonist, and you hate your villain. There’s real conflict here, and some humor. You’re a good writer, you really are!

Step 8: Re-read the 25,000 words and remember that you are the worst writer to ever walk the Earth and also a terrible human being. OH GOD WHY DID I DO THIS? I’m a worthless hack. I’m going to go eat everything now.

Step 9: Cry while curled up into a ball on your bed and devouring a bag of pretzel twists dipped in an ENTIRE TUB of cream cheese while re-watching Star Trek: Voyager on Netflix. To be fair, this is my coping mechanism for all my setbacks in life, not just writing-related fails.

Step 10: Remember that if she could see you now, Captain Janeway* would tell you buck the fuck up, guzzle some black coffee, and get back to work, Ensign! I’m sorry, Kathryn, I was weak. I WILL KEEP WRITING RIGHT AFTER I STOP THAT WARP CORE BREACH AND PREVENT THE BORG FROM ASSIMILATING THE SHIP, CAPTAIN!

Step 11: Read a really good book by an excellent author and come to peace with the fact that you will never be that good but at least you can write grammar real good; and know how to do punctuation and stuff and things.

Step 12: Damn it.

Step 13: Finish your draft! Wow, what an accomplishment! Even if no one reads this, you’ve written a fucking book–how many people can say that?

Step 14: Go on Twitter and realize everyone and their mother has written a YA book just like yours. Fuck.

Step 15: Edit your manuscript which primarily deals with the lives of teens and realize that you have no idea about the lives of teens. I think I made a reference to desktop computers in there…do kids even use computers these days? Or do they operate their smartphones via chips embedded in their brains that allow them to send Snapchats with the firing of a single neuron? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT ABOUT THIS? I guess I could ask an actual teen, but…ew, amirite?

Step 16: Shake your fist at the sky and curse the day that the first members of Generation C were born. Little bastards expecting their lives to be accurately depicted in literature–don’t they know that you are OLD AF RN?

Step 17: Remember that Generation C will soon supplant your Millennial Generation as the most hated of all time. Steeple your fingers while laughing maniacally at their forthcoming generational pain. NOW GO BUY MY BOOK, KIDDOS!

THE END

*I apologize for the obligatory Star Trek reference as I know certain people (ahem, L**) think all I do is talk about “Star Trek, Star Trek, Star Trek,” but I’ve basically just embraced being a ridiculous obsessed nerd so…yeah, get over it.

**J/K, L, you know I love you.

Accurate Wedding Hashtags You Won’t See on Insta This Summer

It’s Memorial Day, which means wedding season has officially begun! I adore going to the beautiful weddings of people I love (luckily for me, because I have four to attend before the year is out!), but I gotta be honest: I’m pretty iffy the #millennial trend of #weddinghashtags. Practically, I get that it’s helpful to aggregate social media photos of the wedding, but also…isn’t that what the professional photog’s getting paid $150 an hour to do? I do think hashtags would be more fun if, instead of some cute pun on the future spouses’ names, they revealed key truths about the couple in question. However, it’s probably not gonna happen, so I’ve compiled a list of accurate wedding hashtags you won’t see on insta this summer for your entertainment:

#audreyissettlingformark

#weshouldhavesignedaprenup

#thirdtimeisprobablynotthecharm

#grandmasgonnadiesoonsothisisforher

#anastasianeedsagreencard

#thisweddingcostmorethanyourhousehaha

#yougiveussixmonthstopsandweagree

#allthebridesmaidsactuallyhatejennifercuzshesabitch

#boywesuredolovemasonjarsdontwe

#werereligiousandreallywanttohavesex

#imnottakingbradsnameandheispissedeventhoughclaimstobefeminist

#werecheapsoitsacashbar

#ihavecoldfeetbutmydadpaidalotofmoneyforthis

#imsansastarksothisisnotgoingtoendwell

#wedidntknowitwasaslaveplantationwhenwebookedthevenuenowgetoffourbacks

#wehaventdiscussedwhetherwebothwantkidsyetsothatwillgowell

#youwouldneverhavesetfootinclevelandwereitnotforthiswedding

#momwantsgrandkids

#ourmarriagewillbenothinglikemyparentsright

#amyspregnantsohereweare

Cheers to happy couples everywhere! 😉

*Disclaimer to everyone whose weddings I am attending this summer: lol this is not you. Except maybe the mason jars one, because come on, who DOESN’T love mason jars? My wedding is gonna take place in a fucking mason jar, people!

I wrote a thing and it was published on the interwebz :)

Hey guys, I wrote a humor thing on The Establishment (no, not the political establishment, but a women’s website lol – one person already made that mistake.

Please, please, please head over there and check it out! And if you’re not reading The Establishment, please start because it is GREAT! I hope you like it 🙂

Also, any woman freelancers out there, The Establishment is GREAT! I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THAT YOU PITCH THEM!

Enjoy!

http://www.theestablishment.co/2016/05/03/8-jareds-to-avoid-dating-in-2016/

The Hysterical Woman Experiment (A-Z Challenge)

Dear LadyWomen Friends of the Moon Cycle,

It’s 2016, and I, like all women in the US, know that sexism and misogyny are over, thanks to the generations of women (AND MEN, DON’T FORGET THE MEN!) who sacrificed so much to ensure that we are treated equally at school, home, work, and da club. It’s just wonderful to live in such an enlightened age.

Sometimes, though, I wonder–what would it have been like to live in a time when women still suffered from actual discrimination? For instance, did you know that many women in the 19th century were often diagnosed with “female hysteria” in order to prevent them from fully participating in modern life outside the home? Just try to imagine what it would have been like for someone to, say, doubt your qualifications or competency for a job just because you’re a woman! I know it sounds like an impossibility, but it used to happen all the time.

If, like me, you’re interested in taking a walk in the shoes of our ancestors, I have good news for you: even today, certain sexist reactions can be elicited from others if we carefully and intentionally provoke them by engaging in certain outrageous, hysterical female behaviors, listed below. Try them out, and at the end of this experiment you’ll be able to say that you, like generations of women before you, have been called a “hysterical woman.”

Behavior #1: Ask for a raise at work. I know, I know, you would never do this, but it’s worth it for the result. Once your manager explains that you don’t yet deserve a raise despite working twelve hour shifts six days a week for three years, make sure to press the issue, explaining your commitment to the job and the fact that your colleague James makes 30% more than you do in the same position, and he’s only been here for eight months. This should definitely trigger the desired reaction! Your manager will begin by telling you “not to get so upset,” and will express disappointment that you’re not the “hard-working team player” he thought you were. You will then be fired, and that’s when your manager will exhort you to “not get hysterical” as you sob while packing your family photos in a cardboard box with security hovering nearby.

Behavior #2: Discuss your field of study, area of expertise, or job with a man. This one is tricky, because you have to engage with the man and push back to tease out the correct response. Here’s an example conversation–hopefully you’ll be able to figure out exactly when the woman’s behavior becomes hysterical enough to warrant reproach.

Joe: Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Joe, I’m an accountant!

Laura: I’m Laura, I’m a–

Joe: Accounting is really fascinating; I do tax accounting. Do you need your taxes done? I could show you how!

Laura: –physician.

Joe: Oh, a doctor, huh? Let me guess, you’re one of those “ladyparts” doctors, right?

Laura: Actually, I specialize in nephrology, which is–

Joe: Oh, yeah, I know all about that. My uncle is a doctor. He told me I would have made a great doctor. So you check for skin cancer and stuff, right?

Laura: No, that’s a derm–

Joe: See, if I were going to be a doctor, I’d go for something really hardcore, like kidney transplants or something. Or–

Laura (annoyed): I do specialize in kidney transplants! A Nephrologist is a kidney specialist!

Joe (throws up hands, backs away, defensive): WOAH WOAH WOAH! NO NEED TO GET HYSTERICAL, HONEY!

Behavior #3: Express a genuine emotion. This one is great because it applies anywhere–at work, school, and even in relationships! For instance, when your partner stays out until 2 a.m. drinking without answering his phone or telling you where he is and you think he’s dead, tell him with tears in your eyes how worried you were, and you’ll be a “hysterical bitch” within minutes! If you’re walking down the street to yoga class, show genuine anger when a man tells you he’d like to lick whipped cream off your tits, and you’ll be “a hysterical crazy whore” instantly! And at work, if you intimate any irritation that James from marketing stole your new sales pitch, he’ll immediately tell your boss how “oversensitive” and “pushy” you are, which easily leads to being “hysterical.” Try expressing emotions all over the place and make note of the results in between your horrified sobs.

Behavior #4: Seek medical treatment, especially if you are poor, fat, disabled, or a woman of color. This one works best if your patience has already been pushed to its absolute limit by having your symptoms dismissed by multiple practitioners over a period of several months. If you’re already at your wits’ end, you’ll probably cry when the LATEST doctor dismisses your PMDD and chronic migraines while telling you that you’d probably feel better if you just lost ten pounds–and as you know by this point in the experiment, crying always brings on the “H” word.

Behavior #5: Say things on the internet. There are SO many ways to try this behavior–Facebook, Twitter, even WordPress blogs. Just set up your account, and then type a status message or post, and watch the accusations of hysteria crowd your mentions! If you’re short on time and want to accelerate the process, make sure to comment on one of these topics right off the bat: politics, video games, dating, rape, abortion, food, women’s rights, lgbt rights, discrimination, body positivity, black lives matter, racism, Obama, Jezebel.com, comic books, comic book adaptations, geek culture, trees, clouds, birds, bees, soup, band aids, transgender people peeing.

And, finally…

Behavior #6: Complain that someone called you hysterical. This behavior is best saved until the end of your experiment as a kind of “hysterical-squared” out-of-body rage-inducing experiment. Tell anyone–your mom, your best friend, your coworker, your dog–about being called “hysterical” in any of the situations above, and prepare for the cherry on top of the sexist flashback sundae: “Well, are you sure you weren’t acting just a little hysterical?”

I hope you enjoy the experiment! Just don’t try to write a paper on it, okay? This topic will most likely be denounced as a frivolous exercise and waste of resources, and you don’t want your peers to think you’re being hysterical.

-Jackie

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments, but please, don’t get hysterical.

On Writing II: The 15 Stages of Choosing a Book Title

All writers know the extreme pressure of having to choose a book title. No matter how epic your sci fi fantasy semi-autobiographical post-apocalyptic vampire romance novel may be, if you don’t name it something somewhat catchy, ain’t NOBODY gonna read it.

Screen Shot 2015-10-21 at 7.59.41 AM — Actual title and pseudonym I may have considered at some point

The issue is, choosing a good title is like going to buy a pair of jeans: you think it will be easy and only take thirty minutes, but instead you end up sobbing and berating yourself after hours of fruitless effort.

Don’t believe me? Well then, I present to you the 15 VERY REAL stages of choosing a book title:

Stage 1: Finish writing your book and editing your manuscript. Write down the first title that comes to mind – it’s perfect, and cute, and catchy, and everyone will like it! Now on to the query letter…

Stage 2: As you’re about to send out your polished query letter, decide to Google your chosen title just to make sure no one else (or very few others) have used it before. You’re sure that all will be well because you’re so clever and original and definitely the only person who’s ever thought of this adorable turn of phrase, but better safe than sorry!

Stage 3: FOUR MILLION OTHER BOOKS HAVE THIS TITLE OMFG ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME.

Stage 4: Cry.

Stage 5: Spend hours scribbling possible titles on scraps of paper, hate all of them.

Stage 6: Find a title you don’t completely hate and yell “MWAHAHAHAH TITLE GODS I DEFY YOU!” while shaking your fist in the air.

Stage 7: Send out queries with new title, get agent*. Agent reads MS and is like, “Overall pretty good; change these things, and also the title sucks.”

Stage 8: Cry.

Stage 9: Procrastinate trying to find a new title by meticulously addressing all of agent’s edits.

Stage 10: Procrastinate trying to find a new title by knitting.

Stage 11: Procrastinate trying to find a new title by cleaning out your closet.

Stage 12: Procrastinate trying to find a new title by drinking.

Stage 13: After fortifying yourself with alcohol, go back to your scribbles, scribble more title ideas. Cry.

Stage 14: After like 12 back and forth emails with agent, finally choose a new title. Agent submits MS to editors.

Stage 15: Wait and resign yourself to the likelihood that if your book is sold that the publisher will immediately want you to change the title. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

AND SO THE WAITING HAS BEGUN. MAY THE FORCE BE WITH ALL MY WRITER PEEPS OUT THERE!

*Of course, getting an agent takes a while, but that’s an entirely different post. My agent is Sharon and she is great and despite the snark in this post I am very grateful that she told me to think up new titles because my original ones did, indeed, suck. ❤

A New Love

So I know that last week I became engaged to Iced Coffee, but I have a new love that has supplanted him: Roxie.

Here she is:

Now, she only weighs 7 lbs, and is also a dog, but I am ridiculously in love. Just look at her PLAYING IN THE DRIVEWAY!

(That is my mom saving her from eating mulch at the end)

In all seriousness, I was a bit nervous about meeting my parents’ new puppy when I came to visit them this week. As you may recall, we lost our family’s beloved 14-year-old black lab, Jazzy, back in August. It was a lot harder on all of us than I had expected – even my brother and I, who don’t live at home anymore, were devastated. So while I was excited to meet this new family member at my parents’ this week, I also felt weird – would I be constantly comparing her to Jazzy? Was I a bad person for wanting to meet and love a new dog when we had just lost such an important part of our lives?

Well, it turns out that while there have been some bittersweet moments when I still miss my old girl, Roxie, like all dogs, has her own separate personality, and loving her is as effortless, in its own unique way, as it was loving Jazzy. Despite the fact that Roxie has these SHARP LITTLE RAZOR TEETH OMG I FORGOT PUPPIES TRY TO EAT EVERYTHING INCLUDING YOUR NOSE AND FINGERS.

Welcome to extended family, Roxie! You’re my new love! (Sorry Iced Coffee 😦 You’re just not as cuddly as Roxie is, and also you occasionally make me jittery.)