Being Classy When Others Aren’t
You would think that in 2022, people have evolved and shed the old credos that held us back for decades. Credos were big in my family as I was growing up. My dad had a few favorites like “children should be seen and not heard.” Basically, keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself until asked for them. Or…you always, always ask to be excused from the dinner table prior to leaving. That one was always funny to me. What was he going to say? “No, you need to spend the night sitting there.” He had extraordinarily strong opinions on how children were to act, and anything less was unacceptable. Women also had their “place” in his opinion. As the only girl with two brothers, I watched them grow up and have many more opportunities and privileges than I. I voiced my frustration (often) and asked why I wasn’t allowed the same opportunities to play sports or belong to after school clubs as my brothers. My dad’s response? My job was to help my mother after school, to cook, help with laundry and make a home for the rest of the family. Obviously the “rest of the family” was my brothers and my dad. As far as sports or activities went, his response was “a girl can do whatever she wants as long as she does it in a dress and party shoes.” True statement. It was how my dad viewed females. Women were not on the same level as men. End of story. After I left home, I realized that my dad’s mantras were some of the biggest contributors to who I am today. Those oppressive statements fueled me to break through the belief that I was boxed in based on a man’s perception of what I should do or say.
Recently, I was invited to join a small group of C-Suite peers at an industry event. I was thrilled to be included in what I thought would be nothing short of a mastermind session, thought-provoking conversations with people who were dealing with similar business challenges, generously sharing their wins and struggles. Mostly it was. This two-day meeting began with an optional meet-and-greet at a college sporting event the night before. Food and cocktails were abundant as were the interesting conversations with my new acquaintances. The next day started with meeting-style introductions answering the typical who, where and what we were all about. 30 seconds per person, please was the request. It’s important to note that there were thirty of us, twenty-five men and five women. I pay close attention during meeting introductions. I have always loved watching and observing people. You can learn so much from just fully listening to people when they are introducing themselves. It’s not only what they say but how they say it. Shy or confident? Rehearsed or winging it? Moving around the room in a circular fashion the first three people to introduce themselves happened to be women. Their introductions were brief, seemingly rote regurgitations as if they’d done this exercise so many times before. Next were at least a dozen men, each elaborating a bit more than the one prior, touting statistics and milestones of their accomplishments. One person in particular stood out. We’ll call him Jack. Several minutes into Jack’s introduction (mind you the others were a fraction in length) he continued to recite his many, many accolades as if to challenge anyone else in the room to “top that.” I’m all about people being proud of themselves, their teams, and what they do to enhance communities and organizations. But when it carries the feel of creating a zero-sum-game mentality it’s not classy. A zero-sum-game mentality can best be described as - the only way I am the best is to diminish you. Jack’s pervasive attitude continued for most of the afternoon, hitting its high point at my expense just before we wrapped up. The last segment of the meeting was for all of us to be put into small groups, break-out sessions to tackle pervasive industry challenges. Low and behold my break-out “buddy” was none other than Jack who also ended up being seated beside me. I’m sure it isn’t a surprise that he dominated the conversation barring me and five others to barely get a word in edgewise. The table facilitator (we’ll call him Dave), sensing the frustration, did his best to try and engage the rest of us and quiet him down. In fact, Dave looked straight at me and asked me to weigh in on the topic of discussion. Mid-way through a point I was making, Jack tapped my arm as if to stop me from talking and began to talk over me. When I responded, “if I can just complete my thought,” Jack again tapped my arm and “shushed” me. He actually shushed me! My expression had to be complete shock. I’m fairly certain my mouth was agape, and I could feel the other people’s eyes on me, then him, all waiting to see what I’d do. Dave too was clearly surprised judging by the look on his face. Just as Dave began to say something to Jack, the timer rang, bringing the session to a close. As I collected my things to leave the table, I began to berate myself for not saying something and for allowing someone to diminish me like that. And in front of a group of respected peers no less.
We were all invited to this event because we represented some of the best in our industry and were deemed equals. Sadly, this mentality of “seen and not heard” that I was raised with is still alive and well today. I don’t know about you but when I feel like I didn’t handle something well, didn’t stand up for myself or just didn’t use my voice when I should have, the ruminations begin and stay in my head on a loop. While there were still a couple more breakout sessions, Jack was assigned to different tables. Sadly, I found it extremely hard to concentrate.
At the end of the day and as I was leaving to head to the airport, several people who witnessed the earlier encounter came up to me to apologize for Jack’s behavior. Including the facilitator. I assured them they had nothing to apologize for and hopefully he didn’t act out the same way during the remaining session. Sadly, he did the same thing at another table and there’s no surprise it was with another female attendee. I don’t know if that woman said anything to him or not.
While I could have easily made a very prickly comment to Jack at that moment the confrontation happened, my first thought was the others at that table were already clearly uncomfortable. Attempting to put him in his place for being so disrespectful and rude would have just made it more uncomfortable. It just wasn’t the place to do that. Had it just been the two of us, I might have responded differently. My 8-year-old self who had been repeatedly shushed by my dad was angry about it happening again. That’s where the ruminations came from. The wounds that have not fully healed.
Although I think therapy should be in Jack’s future, at that moment it was about how I handled it. I really did want to lob a snarky comment his way, trust me! Instead, my silence did not fuel his poor behavior. My silence allowed me to exit without any regrets of having said something out of anger, embarrassing myself in the process. My grandmother used to remind me that when you’re angry and want to say something because you’re upset, “always remember, you can’t un-ring a bell.” That advice has served me well. I could have made a comment to Jack at the table when it all happened, but the looks on the faces of the people seated there were not about feeling sorry for me but feeling sorry for him. Him and his ignorance. So, when faced with challenges in today’s business environment or any other for that matter, I will choose classy. It may not work for some, but it works well for me.
