What do I feel my entrepreneurial older female relatives would have thought and advised me about the modern day women's business climate?

Well..if they'd lived long enough anyway..

Hi! Welcome to The Night Shift, as well as #OperationKittenWatch . It’s about 5AM as I start this post. I have coffee, and a dish of cottage cheese with fruit.

For those who are new, or, who are otherwise not in the know, I was recently informed by Himself, that there was a lost, or, a semi-feral, fluffy tuxedo kitten (somewhere around 12 weeks old or so) that has been hanging around the house (which explains a few things..ahem).

Well, last night, kitten decided that it wanted an upgrade in status to Indoor Cat Life at this house, and decided it was coming in. Through a closed and locked window. Which bonked their nose up pretty good. Oops!

poor baby..

Kitten did not come in..but this did not stop kitten from visiting the driveway yet again, as Himself went to work the next day.

It also did not stop kitten from visiting yet again, as Himself and I came home from grocery shopping earlier this (er, last) evening.

Will kitten come in on their own when actually invited? No. Will kitten get into the baited humane trap? Also, no.

headdesk

I am a fantastic cat mom. However, let me try and grant a kitty wish to a kitten to become a member of Indoor Cat Nation in one of the generally accepted fashions..but no..silly cat wants to come in via the dining room window; apparently this one wants a rescue story with the kind of nerve and flair involved in coming tear-assing through a window screen to (likely) come face to face with either Old Man Cat or one of The Tuxie Twosome on the workbench.

Ai yiyi; alrighty then.

To be fair, Old Man Cat would probably take it reasonably well if that went down. Either member of The Tuxie Twosome? Probably not so much. Baby Girl Dog? Assuredly not.

And here I was recently telling Himself that I would like a nice big dog with its head on straight to be a friend for Baby Girl Dog.

What does the Universe send me but another tuxie that clearly marches to the beat of its own drummer.

The Gods must be laughing like mad right now.

Anyhoo. Let’s get into it.

I recently read an article by

Betty Boldbrew

about women's strength and resilience, especially in the world of work and entrepreneurial pursuits.

This reminded me of a few of my older (and since deceased) female family members, who were either in leadership positions at their jobs, or, they owned their own businesses, or, they ran the offices of their husband's businesses, in a time and place where ladies (usually) did not do such things.

I got my first taste of entrepreneurship and women’s leadership via these channels, when I was very young and most of said relatives were either retired or mostly-retired. Something like that. (Hey, I was a little kid at the time; work with me here)

Among my earliest memories, was my (now late) grandmother teaching me how to beat eggs and other simple things for mixing into various batters. Cakes, cookies, main meals, what-have-you.

If nothing else, I was made very aware, and at a very young age, that one of my main jobs as a woman was going to be to feed people in some capacity, and, by God I was going to be properly prepared to do so from a food-y standpoint. (Oh God, when my mother found out that yes I could run a stove safely by the time I was in elementary school because of my grandmother..the ensuing discussion between my mother and my grandmother was something else.)

Surprise dinner party for 12 or more? No problem. I can do that. When was the last time I threw a dinner party, at all? I don’t even remember. But I could probably prep the food in my sleep if I had to. Early training; sometimes it dies hard; other times, not at all.

Anyhoo.

My grandmother was visually impaired. Did it stop her from cooking and baking? Nope. Her kitchen, out of necessity, was a tight ship. There was a place for everything, and, everything was in its place.

My own kitchen, as a result, is much the same way; folks who know me in real life joke that, no matter where I live, they know where everything is in my kitchen. Glassware is always to the right of the sink, etc. It’s just how I do it. My kitchen; my rules, just like grandma taught me.

Anyhow..

Another early memory involves my (again, now late) great aunt making this huge (the cake was taller than I was at the time) wedding cake. As this cake was so ding-dang big, and so heavily and intricately decorated, it was an ‘all women in the family on deck’ situation.

From a pillowcase, a smock was made that would fit me; from there, a small icing bag was fashioned for me that I could hang on to. On the spot, I was taught how to make frosting roses and other decorations that had to dry a bit before being placed upon the cake by either my mother, my great aunt, or one of my other aunts or cousins. There was a whole ‘get it done’ quotient involved, on steroids.

I wish there were still pictures that existed of this cake; I remember it taking up most of my great aunt’s formal dining room table. I also remember my mother, and one of my cousins swearing a blue streak (all in good fun though) as they assembled the connecting bridges from the main cake to the secondary cakes as a pre-transport-test run of the final assembly at the wedding venue, but that’s beside the point.

Another memory of my great aunt, was that, apparently, before she started making wedding cakes, she apparently ran the office of my uncle’s firm, prior to his passing. The office was in their home, and, after he died, she never let go of ‘the office’. I remember being fascinated with all of the little nooks and crannies of her rolltop desk, and her old time-y office stationery, and of the (very old; 1940’s or 50’s? styled) desk telephone.

One of my other aunts (my grandmother’s daughter, and, again, now deceased) was in supervisory positions ranging from food service, to bar service, to what would now be considered early electronics manufacturing.

And this, perhaps, is where things went off of the rails a bit.

Because, after all the joie de vivre and camaraderie and getting the work done, there’d be a coffee klatch. Of sorts. (Again, bear with me, I’m writing this from little kid memories here) Business is nothing if not social..even if you’re largely a solopreneur.

Every time, after the first cup of coffee and maybe something to eat and a cigarette, the subject would turn to men and their behavior. Lamenting about how it’s a man’s world, and if only women had more power and blah blah blah “he won’t let me’ or ‘that man did me wrong’ or ‘that’s not a good man' and ‘if only things were different’ and ‘do you think women’s liberation will help us’, etc.

Because of course this was a big honking issue; until 1988 (a number of years away at the time) a woman couldn’t have business credit or a business bank account in her own name without a male co-singer; hell, at that point in time, it had only been a few years since 1974 when women could get a personal bank account without a co-signer.

Further complicating matters, sexual harassment laws became more of a thing in 1980 (again, a few years away at that point), with the right to sue for it only becoming a thing in 1991. Anti-stalking laws were first passed only in 1990, with the Federal laws around it, becoming a thing in 1996.

And I think we all know about how well all those laws are working for us women. For every win..how many losses are there again? ahem

But, anywaysies, there I was, back in the 70’s, hearing about so many ways that women worked around or against men and legal systems and patriarchal beliefs and whatnot, but, these women couldn’t work their way around, or past, the proverbial glass ceiling(s) at the time. Because, obvious reasons. Of course women had to be resilient.

The end result is that I frequently saw good, strong, decent women cry either alone or, with each other, about these turns of events, especially when they had to sell land or other property in order to raise money after a man in their life either messed them up or outright screwed them over.

So, of course, women were resilient. They had to be. And even more so to be in leadership or entrepreneurial positions, while still (legally and/or physically) under the thumbs of some man or another. Be it her husband, son, brother, father..

The kicker to this, came several years ago, when I was speaking with one of my aunts (my late grandmother’s daughter, or, my father’s sister, a few years before she herself passed away).

The two of us were actually talking shop because I’d just come from the local City Hall, where I’d just (again, at the time) had a chat with the business development department to see what they could do for me (which wasn’t a lot, as it turned out).

So I’m talking with my aunt, and she was telling me ‘you are so lucky that your grandfather is not here to hear about your plans, he’d see to it that what you wanted to do, would never happen.’

I, somewhat taken aback (because up until my stepmother and her kids came along, I’d been the family favorite and I simply could not parse-at all-my grandfather not wanting me to be able to support myself with my own business). So, naturally, I was all ‘Wait. What?! Why?!?! Aunt Betty, what the hell are you on about?!?!’

The story I got, was that, once upon a time, way back when, way before my aunt retired, she’d been offered both a supervisory position and a position as an instructor in her field, due to her extensive institutional knowledge.

Well..apparently, my grandfather caught wind of this notion, and he was not having it. He verbally browbeat my aunt and her boss so badly, that my aunt turned both positions down to keep the peace within the family; my grandfather was allegedly bent out of shape over the notion that his (then) unmarried daughter, should now be in charge of teaching grown men anything.

Her boss was heartbroken, but he also understood where my aunt was coming from. Her boss wound up offering my aunt a lateral move within the firm that she worked for instead, which limited her income potential, which, in turn, down the line, completely screwed my aunt financially.

I remember my by this time elderly aunt crying right there in front of me, wishing that she had, back in the day, stood up to my grandfather more. Or better. Or something. She died a few years ago.

Now, here we are. Some fifty-ish years or so (situation and law dependent) later from my experiences as a kid.

I’m pretty sure that, had my entrepreneurial female relatives lived long enough, or, had had the right social supports in place to take advantage of the laws that changed, they’d be cautiously optimistic of all the changes.

On the flip side, though..there’s still ‘pink collar jobs’. There’s still a gender pay gap. There’s still rampant gender inequality. Women still get blamed for whatever shit gos wrong when they’re say, out after dark, or they go out by themselves for a drink and a sandwich that they didn’t have to make themselves, etc etc.

So do you know what I think my older female relatives would be telling me, had they lived long enough? They’d be telling me that the advances in tech are wonderful (for the most part). They’d be telling me that the laws changing in favor of gender equality would be giving them cause for quiet celebration.

But.

They would also be telling me that it takes more than laws and diversity practices and whatnot to make measurable change for the better, actually happen and be accepted in practice. They would tell me that attitudes have to change on a social level, and there’s still a lot of progress that needs to happen on that front. And that’s a tough battle to fight without adequate or correct support.

Last, but not least, I believe that they’d tell me ‘Deb..the game is still rigged. The rigging just has different labels and flavors now. If you can accept that, and move forward anyway, you’ll be OK.’

For now, this is all. Stay tuned for part 2. I need to go have a chat with one of my old bosses and have her give me a history and life experience lesson before I write that one.

Talk again soon,

Deb