I'm still doing the math but I'm pretty sure I'm only, like, 3/4 of a person in Liberia.
I've never lived anywhere where women were generally considered less-awesome than men. I'm not sure how I only recently noticed this, either -- I think the president and her Cabinet distracted me. There are billboards and public service announcements explicitly asking men not to beat or rape or stifle their women. These are important (if unsettling) messages because I get the feeling I'm only good for male ego-boosting; once it's apparent that I am not in the market for a sugar-daddy, I become more or less irrelevant.
I think I failed a job interview once when the interviewer made a crude joke about Liberian prostitutes and I paused, surprised, before giving a hearty laugh and a back-slap. (The interviewer, for the record, was American.)
A neighbor was floored when he realized I was steadily employed. "You and Will both work?" he gasped. (The neighbor, for the record, is American.)
When I shop for cars I can actually drive, the dealers only address Will. They hesitate to shake my outstretched hand and Beyonce suddenly plays in my head (When you're in the big meetings for the mils / You take me just to complement the deal).
My requests for fixes around the compound are white noise to the Lebanese. The Liberian security guard once asked me to recommend his friend, a housekeeper, to my husband. "You can talk to Will," I told him, "He'll be back soon." "No, no, no," he insisted. "I tell you, Boss Lady, and you tell the Boss Man." There are rules, you see. Eighteen years of private school just to be the funnel to my husband's ear. Beyonce suddenly plays in my head (Still play my part and let you take the lead role).
So what do I do? Bow out, fuming silently, and let the men talk business? Channel my inner frat-boy-exec and bust out scotch and cigars?
Maybe I take a cue from Bobbie Barrett: "You're never gonna get that corner office until you start treating Don as an equal. And no one will tell you this, but you can't be a man. Don't even try. Be a woman. It's powerful business, when done correctly."
I've never lived anywhere where women were generally considered less-awesome than men. I'm not sure how I only recently noticed this, either -- I think the president and her Cabinet distracted me. There are billboards and public service announcements explicitly asking men not to beat or rape or stifle their women. These are important (if unsettling) messages because I get the feeling I'm only good for male ego-boosting; once it's apparent that I am not in the market for a sugar-daddy, I become more or less irrelevant.
I think I failed a job interview once when the interviewer made a crude joke about Liberian prostitutes and I paused, surprised, before giving a hearty laugh and a back-slap. (The interviewer, for the record, was American.)
A neighbor was floored when he realized I was steadily employed. "You and Will both work?" he gasped. (The neighbor, for the record, is American.)
When I shop for cars I can actually drive, the dealers only address Will. They hesitate to shake my outstretched hand and Beyonce suddenly plays in my head (When you're in the big meetings for the mils / You take me just to complement the deal).
My requests for fixes around the compound are white noise to the Lebanese. The Liberian security guard once asked me to recommend his friend, a housekeeper, to my husband. "You can talk to Will," I told him, "He'll be back soon." "No, no, no," he insisted. "I tell you, Boss Lady, and you tell the Boss Man." There are rules, you see. Eighteen years of private school just to be the funnel to my husband's ear. Beyonce suddenly plays in my head (Still play my part and let you take the lead role).
So what do I do? Bow out, fuming silently, and let the men talk business? Channel my inner frat-boy-exec and bust out scotch and cigars?
Maybe I take a cue from Bobbie Barrett: "You're never gonna get that corner office until you start treating Don as an equal. And no one will tell you this, but you can't be a man. Don't even try. Be a woman. It's powerful business, when done correctly."
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