Leaning In: Nature and Nurture

Last night as I headed home, I was incredibly excited to find a small package on my door. Was it here at last? It was. I tore off the Amazon prime cardboard with a kitchen knife, taking care not to graze the contents. Pulling back the cover I found the book in mint condition, Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg. You know you’ve outgrown your 20s when you start getting this excited about books…

I’d heard from friends that this was an insightful read, and I was enthused to finally get away from the host of business related books on my shelf that I’d started months ago but was never engaged in enough to finish. Here at last, was something that could engage me on all fronts- Business, mindfulness, and personal endeavors. And although I don’t necessarily consider myself a feminist, I have always been interested in learning more about the various viewpoints of women in power on gender roles and equality within the workplace. I decided, therefore, to record my thoughts, feelings and more importantly, my reflection of self after having read the first couple chapters. Here goes-

Chapter 1 & 2

My Observations

What a breath of fresh air! Alas, here was a person who had identified the exact things that I’d been observing and making note of in my latter years. Finally, here was someone bold enough to say it, in a far more eloquent and mindful manner than I admit I could’ve mustered. I’ve always been stifled by seeing how women’s priorities changed drastically through each phase of life. In elementary school, we had all wanted to become doctors, presidents, and more. In middle school, those dreams were tarnished by the opinions of those around us for most girls, but resilient nevertheless. Then in high school, those dreams became more strongly grounded within our academics while somehow seeming far less attainable. The most drastic shift came in college- Many of the same girls I’d known who had dreamed of the world became far less enamored by the idea of taking ownership of their environments and were instead fantasizing about their weddings and what they would name their kids. (Just as Sandberg, I do not condone that getting married and having kids are unworthy ‘wants’, but I was alarmed in the least, to find that this new addition of desires practically eliminated any desires that existed before it.)

Coming from a first generation background in a Brahmin family, I heard more often than not of women who had gotten into prestigious med schools, law programs, who simply abandoned their quests to seek career empowerment after saying ‘I do’. The ones who hadn’t, as I found out later, were often seeking education as a means to drive up their value proposition for a better match in matrimony. My own cousin has a masters in microbiology, but after getting married, quit working. She got married in her hometown in Vadodara, and not long after the marriage queries started arising with my name to them. I found it odd that my extended family, who has focused extensively on educating and empowering the women within it, was just as bound by the social stigma of a young girl’s role in marriage as any other.

Familial Reflections

My grandmother, one of the strongest women I’ve ever known and also a huge advocate of women’s education and growth, would frequently toss in snippets of advice on what kind of a man to look for and how we are going to have a big wedding for me, so I needed to find someone quickly. While most of it was fun and games, it proved an interesting dichotomy for me- As someone who had been born in India, with divorced parents since 9 months of age and a fully empowered female figure in my life, it was odd to be told on one hand that I had to concern myself about marriage and on the other, also about academics. Confused and slightly irritated, I opted for a different option altogether- To be concerned with neither, and to do only what I loved (although my mother must be given some if not all the credit for this manifestation).

I’d heard stories of my mother. When she was growing up, my mother was very quiet, very bookish, naïve, and introverted. She kept her head in her books, on her santoor, and went with the flow. She was, and is today even more so, beautiful, modest, diligent and incredibly intelligent. She got married not long after obtaining her Masters in Accounting, and then the struggle began. I won’t dive into the details of her marriage, as it is not my place to do so, but the consequence was that she was drained entirely of her physical, emotional, and mental wellbeing. I recall her telling me once that she did not even want to get married- She just thought that it was what you were supposed to do. So she did. And while this lead to what some might consider disastrous consequences, my mother and I are both equally positive that it catalyzed a far better life for both of us than we could ever have dreamed of back then.

My mother told me that the moment after she recognized that she had hit rock-bottom, she decided to really live. My existence was a driving factor for her. She decided that for the first time in her life, she knew what she wanted, and although it felt nearly impossible at the time, she wouldn’t stop until she got it. She got out of the marriage, and sought the advice of my grandparents and uncle. My uncle told her that she should forget her accounting background (she never liked it much anyway) and go after software instead. She worked evenings, teaching a class on software, in which she had zero experience and knowledge. She would learn the course material by day, maneuver her scooter amongst the busy streets of Pune, and teach a class on the same coursework in the evening.

One day I waited for my grandma at the foot of the stairs to our condo, yelling ‘Aji!’ and waiting. No response. I walked up the stairs to stare at a big padlock for the next two hours, confused as to where everyone had gone. My Aji and Baba (my grandfather, whom I’ve always called ‘father’ just as everyone else in the family) rushed in, telling me that my mother had been in an accident but that she would be okay. I can’t recall the exact details of seeing her at the hospital, but the short of it was that someone in a car had rear-ended her, she had fallen off her scooter, which fell on her ankle, shattering it. Incredibly, however, after a couple months of recovery, she started riding the scooter once again to work.

Coming to America

A couple years passed in the flash of an eye, and the next thing I knew, my mother announced that she would be going to America and that I was to stay in Pune with my grandparents for a couple months before flying off to join her. Many people have asked me what I felt then. The honest truth is that I don’t recall feeling anything. I was very happy go lucky and don’t recall any resounding emotions present until middle school. For the two months that my mother was away, I was having a great time with my grandparents. My grandmother made me up for school, putting tons of oil in my bowl cut hair (which I didn’t have enough fashion sense at the time to wrinkle my nose at), and made me sheera whenever I asked for it. The only negative memory of that time period, was when I got the chicken pox. The painful activity of attempting to eat with a large node on the middle of my tongue is something I still cringe at whenever I recall it. And then one day suddenly, I was on a plane to America.

Before this point, my only connection to America was that my uncle would bring us processed cheese slices, stove top pasta packets, and the first time, a white-as-snow teddy bear I named ‘Billy’ for my first birthday, who let out a recorded song when I squeezed him. My feelings of going to an unknown place were never noted. I do, however, recall the drive to my uncle’s house from the airport. It was a brilliant Seattle summer day, and driving along West Lake Sammamish, I saw a gaggle of swimmers embarking on their walk back to their houses. I’d never seen people wearing such little clothing before in my life! I gasped and then giggled, pointed at them and said, “Aai, look at the naked people!” My uncle quickly pushed my hand down saying, “Rashmi, don’t point, it’s considered rude.” Lesson number one, check. That is all I recall of my trip to America.

My mother got a job at Microsoft. She and I soon moved out of my uncle’s house and lived in a cozy little apartment. She put me in every after school activity imaginable. Collectively, whilst in school, I had a bhangra dance class, a bharatnatyam dance class, a Hindustani vocal class, tennis, basketball, badminton, soccer, softball, swimming, and even boy’s baseball for a couple years. (They apparently thought that my name was a boy’s name when my mother went to sign me up; but it worked out because I still had my bowl-cut at the time.) I also was a part of three different leadership groups for Indian cultural organizations, and participated as a supporting musician to my mother in all of her music performances. How did my mother drive me around to all of those things while making a drastic career change and working an incredibly new and demanding job at Microsoft? I will never know. I just know that when my mother said, ‘I’m putting you in this class!’ my response was always, “Sounds good to me!”

I never realized at the time that this outlook and flush of activities shaped my perspective in so many ways. My mother’s determination, strength, and persistence in thoroughly enjoying everything that life has to offer instilled in me that I could do anything if I only wanted it enough. I could really have it all; I need only get creative with how to make it a reality and then work my tush off. I could play soccer, and softball, and tennis and also have two dance classes, singing class and still find time to watch a movie with my family and have fights with my cousin over whose turn it was to play the Xbox.

What If?

But what would have happened had my mother never gotten out of that marriage? Had she not made the conscious decision to live her life the way that she wanted to live it? Would I have been the same person I am today? I think not. Growing up, my mother was timid, shy, reserved. But when we moved into the US, those attributes were not affordable to her any longer. She had to be bold, adventurous, she had to figure things out on her own, and she had to drive herself to be marketable even if it wasn’t aligned with her humble personality. Despite having to fuse cultures in order to allow me the best possible life, she still retained her principals. She was always honest, direct, and considerate of others (especially of myself). She has a kind of quiet and humble strength that I can only hope one day to emulate. She always did her best, and is still today, the only person I’ve met who has always delivered. Growing up with her, I had high standards for myself. It became increasingly difficult to measure up to them, and even more difficult to find out that the rest of the world was not like her. Had I not seen her work her butt off every day, every minute to build the incredible life for me that I have today, I might’ve been an entirely different person. Most who are close to me today can agree that I am indeed bold, outgoing, driven, and full of fervor. But my natural characteristics are rather like that of my mother before she made the decision to live. I might have been introverted, unsure of myself, quiet, accommodating, overly compassionate, and certainly not a leader. I know what you’re thinking… quiet? Rashmi? Yeah right. As a child, I was very obedient, never harried, and always sweet. Instead, the older I got, the more rebellious I became. The more cognizant I was. The angrier I was that my seemingly ideal world lacked the substance that I was so desperately seeking within it.

This reflection of who I could’ve been is drawn from the glimpses of a different ‘me’, who has peeked out to say hello on numerous occasions. There was a time when one might have said that I put on a fake boldness to hide doubts I had about myself. I was unhappy with myself when I tried to fit in. But now I recognize that I no longer have to be ‘normal’. Over time, these two drastically different ‘me’s have come together in a more cohesive notion of self; catalyzed by a heightened sense of maturity, mindfulness, and introspection. Today I am both: bold and observant; driven and compassionate. And my insecurities are becoming less relevant with self-exploration. Today I recognize that everything I need in order to be successful in my own definition exists in me already. I need only stay honest with myself, stay learning, and stay driven in order to reach and understand it.

Of and Between Men and Women

Retracing Sandberg’s work, I observed her juxtaposition of the various traits of men and women. I picked up this book thinking that it would make me feel more like a women; more in touch with my femininity. Oddly enough, I found myself relating more to the ‘manly’ traits than the ‘womanly’ traits, as described by Sandberg.

I hardly ever feel like a woman nowadays; With my focus entirely on my company, I’ve changed drastically what I value and the way in which I behave. I’ve stopped wearing dresses and skirts because apparently the only thing potential partners can stare at if I do are my aesthetic assets. I’ve stopped experimenting with makeup on the daily, because it detracts from my overall personal brand. Everything has become about the company. I’ve stopped dating, because well, what’s the point when you know exactly what you’re looking for, it is incredibly difficult to find, and there are few who could relate to you? I’ve stopped spending time on one-way relationships; mostly because I have a deepened sense of respect for myself, and also because I have little energy to simply give away- I need it for the company. Most of these changes have made me intrinsically more at home. The last one however, sadly, led to 90 percent of my interactions ceasing to exist. I used to like feeling like a girl, because it was fun and a good feeling to feel wanted. Since then, my search for external validation has decreased exponentially, and with it, my need to feel like a girl. So why is it that I link being ‘girly’ to being insecure? My close girl friends are all confident, smart, driven, and fun. But none of them are ‘girly’. In my mind, ‘girly-ness’ also insinuates a sense of superficiality, insecurity, and lack of value-add. What do you connote ‘girly’ to?

For the first time in my life, I feel like an alien in most social situations, and unable to relate to anyone of my age and most certainly, gender. And while we can argue all day about how societal values in regards to gender roles and equality need to change, the reality is that they are still resilient. I believe this to be a consequence of our current cultural landscape. Every woman wants the power, but few focus on the key concepts necessary in obtaining it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a family and relationship. Those are things that I want too. But they are not the sole validation of my existence. And while I may no longer exist to belong, I exist here to create. I exist now to innovate. I exist to the push the boundaries of what is real and what is acceptable.