What does it look like to truly ‘Lean In’?
IN preparing for this section of the series, I found myself really contemplating what ‘Lean In’ means. Sheryl Sandberg , in her book of the same name, didn’t invent the phrase, but she popularized it, and in so doing, created the working definition.
It won’t work for us.
‘Lean In’ was a watershed book for a certain segment of the population. Millions of women read it, there were, and are, ‘Lean In’ circles, where women follow the direction of Sandberg through her Lean In website; there was buzz, there were accolades.
It was heralded as new thinking. But, once I got into the book and its premise, it reminded me of something fairly old. That of some of the most problematic of post 60’s feminism.
While ‘Lean In’ had merits–fighting for what you want, not backing down, going all in with career, not settling for ‘mommy track’, there were flaws noted almost before the ink was dry on the first edition.
It was elitist, some said. What worked for Sandberg would not work for the average working woman, who didn’t have the founders of Facebook and Google on speed dial. It glossed over the fact that she had the privilege of outsourcing some of the duties of outside life. And it failed to mention anything about the lives of women below the level of middle management.
This resonated with me. When I was younger, I used to read the magazine Working Woman, a monthly that was a how-to on how to get ahead in corporate America. Every year, they produced a list of the best workplaces for women. Even then, in the 80’s, I was concerned and confused. They listed places like McDonalds, Sears, Mary Kay, and so on. They touted workplace reforms like flex scheduling, job sharing, onsite daycare, the percentage of women in or near C-suite status, and the like. A naive young woman then, I was heartened by this. Then one time, reading the list, I noticed asterisks at the bottom of the listings. These progressive reforms were only for corporate offices, and only for women at a certain level within them.
The most important information was in 5 point font at the bottom of the page. But it was crucial. And it scarcely deserved mention.
The lady offering you extra sauce wasn’t getting maternity leave. The ‘independent contractor’ that is the salesforce at Mary Kay wasn’t getting stock options. The salesclerk at Sears wasn’t leaning into a polished corporate table in a dark paneled boardroom, she was leaning over to put your slacks in a plastic bag. The receptionist at the insurance office wasn’t reading her kid stories at lunchtime at the free daycare.
These reforms were only for the already privileged.
And Leaning In was only for those who already had a seat at the polished table. Who wanted less the widening and deepening of said table, but a better vantage point with the same amount of chairs.
Defined this way, Leaning In is at best, a mixed boon. Even for those who benefit. It is easy to smile at the ideal of millions of empowered women showing up for themselves. Who take no guff. Who know their worth.
But. They are millions of individual women, acting in their own self interests, or at best, the interests of their own cohort.
40 years ago, when feminism, despite lip service to those who punched clocks and provided ‘support’ to their ‘betters’, mostly concerned themselves with those who were either bumping their heads on glass ceilings or were close enough to see the smudges from their own rungs of the ladder. The concerns were for themselves, and one of the (brutally unrealized) promises of that time was that when better conditions were achieved for themselves, they would then pivot and, from a position of better influence and power, they would then advocate for those for whom ‘ladder’ was a distant concept.
It is hard to sit on the board of Walmart where women in the store hold food drives for associates for the holidays. Or at Amazon, where bathroom breaks for pickers are timed.
Trickle Down Economics Never Worked. Neither Does Trickle Down Leaning In.
It’s easy to pivot to race here, isn’t it? It is easy to see how an individualistic ethos that leaves out the majority of women in general, and black and brown women in particular, is a hollow ethos that produces hollow promises.
So a new definition is needed. And it is one that we will employ here.
We do not demand that anyone, anyone wait for their liberation. Our wholeness must not, cannot, come at the expense of others.
When we say ‘Lean In’, we mean it differently. Because we believe in some core principles: that nobody can do this work, this walk, alone; that internal work that serves only ourselves is never sufficient; that no one is to be stranded on the highway as we walk our journey; that our table is round and ever widening with everyone having worth and a voice that matters and is given equal weight. I have gleaned great knowledge from women who have advanced degrees while doing this work. I have also gleaned great knowledge and insight from the woman who picks up shifts when she can at the diner in Lemon Grove.
Here at Lace on Race, our knowledge and our social capital is worth little unless it is in service to our greater values and goals. The professor and the line cook. The call center worker and the lawyer. The middle manager and the bus driver. We do not look up to the next rung, unattainable in any case to so many of us, but we look at and to each other, finding and affirming shared humanity and worth, regardless of zip code or retirement account balance.
This is radical shit y’all.
We do not demand that anyone, anyone, wait for their liberation. Our wholeness must not, cannot, come at the expense of others.
This is something that is sorely lacking from what is now called ‘white feminism’, and what the original definition of ‘Lean In’ embraces. We, with a collective pivot, demand a change in terms.
When we say Lean In, we do not mean only for ourselves. Our elbows cannot be flexed outward at the table to block out others. Rather than Leaning In by ourselves, we Lean In with others.
We do not stride ahead alone. We do not leave those with fewer provisions, fewer privileges, less social and economic capital to fend for themselves. And when we are at the polished table, metaphorical or actual, when we do Lean In, we do so with the collective weight of those who walk with us, and we do so on behalf of those who might never have a seat. We keep them in mind when we consider the effects of our decisions, and we steward our capital well, knowing that no small part of it was gleaned on the shoulders of those who will never see the upper floors.
There is an African Proverb: No one eats till all have a bowl. White feminism would have some of us eat with relish at a table set only for a few. Here, we know better. Here, we pass the bowl down.
One of my mentors and teachers is who I call Home. I call her that in my heart because when I think of her, I slip into her comfortable spirit as she pours the coffee, as she serves, as she makes sure everyone is comfortable, as she affirms the wholeness in each of us. She is modest in the best sense of the term, Home is. And her table is set, not with gleaming crystal and fragile porcelain, but with hand fired pottery, and glass that holds good water. She ensures that we all have a bowl.
This sounds easy, but there is indeed risk inherent in the type of Lean In described here. It takes trust to pass the bowl, when you are not sure that everyone will also pass across and down. It takes trust to know that there will be enough in the pot for you. It takes courage to allow yourself to be given to, and to give. It takes a certain fictive imagination to imagine the journeys of hundreds and thousands of other women, that they will not be only for themselves; that they will not betray, that they will live by and embody the same values and vision and ethos that you do. It is a small miracle that we do this work at all. The muscles flexed even to begin this journey are not insignificant. But it is the only way to Home.
If we only care about what we see, we can make sure we don’t ever put ourselves in a position to see.
Sandberg wrote that she advocated for up front parking for pregnant women only after she herself found herself schlepping to her car as she was rushing for a meeting. She made a change; and it was a win. For the women in the corporate office in the Bay Area. What is missing here is the fictive imagination of and for women not in her particular position; what is missing here is a wider lens for women not directly in front of her.
Which is why that lens is so crucial. If we only care about what we see, we can make sure we don’t ever put ourselves in a position to see. Leaning In, in this way, also means Leaning Into the horizon and what the world would call the periphery; finding what’s missing in our perspective that we have either engineered our lives to be able to ignore, or in examining the institutions and structural barriers; the grease put in place to make ourselves glide forward, but only at the expense of those with glue on the soles of their sandals.
As we Lean In, for and with our internal selves, in service to our fellow walkers, and others who we will never see, but can, and hopefully will benefit from our walk, we begin to live out what can only be called a more congruent and authentic journey. We begin to understand that Leaning In is not just an singular exercise. Because Leaning In with others, arms linked with solidarity and resolve, will keep you from falling.
May we all Lean In with and for each other, and for our wider world. For our Home.
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