9

BUILD ON YOUR FEMININE STRENGTHS

The fourth element of identifying our strengths is to look at identity—including our gender, race, religion, and ethnicity—and examine how these aspects of who we are can influence our dreams. In the prior chapter, we discussed how our principles, values, and religious beliefs are strengths. In this chapter we’ll explore how being female is a truly great strength and what a tremendous impact our gender identity has on the direction of our dreams.

The Old Testament tells the story of Abigail and with her husband, Nabal, who were King David’s subjects. (By the way, King David is the David who slew Goliath.) The Bible describes Nabal as “churlish and evil in his doings.” When approached by King David’s servants for provisions, Nabal refuses. An incensed King David vows to kill him. To save her husband’s life, Abigail “gathers two hundred loaves, two bottles of wine, five sheep ready dressed, and five measures of corn, a hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs.” She prostrates herself before the king, begs for forgiveness, and pleads for Nabal’s crime to be on her head.

King David forgives Abigail, saying “Go up in peace to thine house . . . I have hearkened to thy voice, and accepted thy person.” The importance of the story is not David’s mercy but Abigail’s bravery—and her strength. Abigail was willing to sacrifice her life for her boorish, foolish husband. The feminine willingness to give everything, perhaps even our lives, for those we love is a strength, as is tenderness toward those who may not be deserving of our love.

In mythology we see this strength in Psyche, who is willing to undertake four Herculean tasks, including literally going through hell to be reunited with Eros (aka Cupid). As women, we tend to be driven by love, and our innate desires for marriage, children, and nurturing happy relationships exert a powerful influence on our dreams. We see evidence of this in the story shared on Dare to Dream by my friend Jane Clayson Johnson. As an anchor for CBS’s The Early Show, Jane met a grandmother in Shantou, China, who, seeing a newborn abandoned because she had a cleft palate, scooped up the child and vowed to care for her.

Perhaps this is why so many of us are drawn to the idea of microcredit, the financial lending system in which small loans, made primarily to women in third world nations, provide funds that change lives. When we meet women (like those I met in Uruguay) who have been dealt a tough hand yet are ferociously doing whatever needs to be done to feed and clothe their children, we instinctively relate to them. We understand why they are doing what they are doing, and we understand their willingness to sacrifice for those they love. Closer to home, I watch mothers who, day in and day out, feed and clothe their children and remind them to do their homework, practice the piano, do their chores, and be kind to their siblings. Mothers rarely give up. Yes, there are the occasional rants. If we weren’t connected to our loved ones, we probably wouldn’t bother, but mostly there is tenderness.

What many women do on a daily basis, the efforts we make on behalf of others, deserves praise and accolades. There is no guarantee of a reward for our nurturing. To the extent we are rewarded, it is usually deferred, sometimes for decades. We often do what we do without credit and for long periods of time because it needs to be done. This is a feminine strength, one that serves us well when we dream of being a mother, as has Julia Blake.

Julia Blake: Living My Dream

I’m not sure I should blame Dare to Dream for distracting me from my dream. In nineteen years of marriage and seventeen years of motherhood, distraction has been the norm. I was a pre-med major and sometimes regret not going to medical school. I have often looked around at mothers who are businesswomen, doctors, investors, artists, architects, and writers and dreamed of being like them. Since having children I have started successful businesses, managed record-breaking fundraisers, had products featured in Boston Baby magazine, renovated homes, and much more, all while being a “stay-at-home-mom.” Yet none of these were my primary dream.

When I encountered Dare to Dream I was erroneously convinced that I was falling short of my potential if I didn’t pursue some big dream outside of motherhood. Eventually, I pushed back at this distortion to recognize that I am living my dream and that I do not want lesser dreams to overpower it. My dream is to enjoy a successful marriage and family.

I didn’t achieve my dream when I got married and had children—it had just begun. I was a different person the moment my first child was placed on my chest in the delivery room. I felt my life take on a significance that it didn’t have previously. It is not always joyful—many times during those early years, I felt I was in way over my head and clawing just to make it through each day. Today it still isn’t joy when ungrateful kids ignore what I have taught them, pass bad habits along to younger siblings, fight with each other, and let their gym clothes fester in the locker room all year. The sheer quantity of what is required of me overwhelms at times. I try to laugh at the reality that I can’t finish the laundry, clean the house, provide nutritious meals, exercise, and shower all in the same week.

This past fall I realized that I had comically overcommitted myself, yet I comprehended that this was my time to be involved. I knew that my deepest satisfaction was in doing the work that accompanies raising children. For example, it makes me blissful to feed my teenage boys. They sincerely appreciate my food. When I sign up to feed the football team, I’m not having it catered and I am not cutting corners. I’m making a complete dinner from scratch. My boys see that I put the time in for them and their friends. Admittedly, I love hearing that ours was the best team dinner. That’s more than enough payment for me. All of the homemaking tasks are the collateral to my dream and not what actually matters, except to the extent that they bring happiness. If I can be happy doing the tasks and involve my children in them, then the work is an important part of the goal.

I love waking up in the morning and deciding what I want to do. I don’t have a boss or a client dictating that. If I don’t feel like doing the laundry, the kids can do it themselves or wear something else. If I don’t clean the house, I am the only one who cares. When I skip the grocery shopping or don’t cook, we eat cereal. I love being able to choose.

I get to go to my kids’ sports events, help them practice the piano, tutor them academically, play games with them, read to them, listen to them, teach them to scrub a toilet and hang up their clothes, stay awake with them when they are sick, and so on. Of course, there are parts of my job that I like better than others. Above all, I recognize that I have the freedom every day to choose how I want to improve, who I want to serve, and what I want to create and accomplish. By some blessed chance I have come to a place where I don’t feel guilt for what I do and don’t do. When I take a few hours or days for myself and personal interests I don’t feel the guilt that I once did. Maybe it is because I decided that this dream is enough.

In less than two years my oldest will leave home. I am clinging to every day I have with him. When my youngest is gone I will evaluate new dreams, but for now this one requires everything I have.

Whether we mother our own children or—as aunts, teachers, community leaders, or neighbors—we mother someone else’s children, feminine strengths of being indefatigable, fearless, and gentle are vital to the health and well-being of our communities and our families and even to the survival of the human race. Mothering, in all its forms, springs from our feminine nature, and, while not universal, it is a widespread and important dream for many women.

NURTURING YOURSELF

One of the risks of the motherhood dream is that no one knows exactly what we do—and frankly, sometimes neither do we. Michael Lewis, the author of The Blind Side, wrote about professional basketball player Shane Battier, who plays for the Houston Rockets, in an article titled “The No-Stats All-Star.” He describes Battier as follows: “Shane Battier is widely regarded inside the NBA as, at best, a replaceable cog in a machine driven by superstars. And yet every team he has ever played on has acquired some magical ability to win. [Because] Battier . . . seems to help the team in all sorts of subtle, hard-to-measure ways that appear to violate his personal interests.”

Subtle, hard-to-measure ways.

Lewis continues:

Battier’s game is a weird combination of obvious weaknesses and nearly invisible strengths. When he is on the court, his teammates get better, often a lot better, and his opponents get worse—often a lot worse. He may not grab huge numbers of rebounds, but he has an uncanny ability to improve his teammates’ rebounding. He doesn’t shoot much, but when he does, he takes only the most efficient shots . . .

On defense, although he routinely guards the NBA’s most prolific scorers, he significantly reduces shooting percentages. [We] call him Lego. When he’s on the court, all the pieces start to fit together.

Husbands, children, and coworkers may not understand what it is exactly that we do. Yet because of who we are and what we do, whether in our home, community, or workplace, things magically work. Like Shane Battier, our very presence seems to just make everything and everyone work better together. It’s hard to put your finger on it, but in my experience this “magic” of bringing people together and enhancing their strengths is a talent that many women seem to have. It’s one reason we are so good at being a safe haven and playing a supporting role, but it’s a talent that we can use for great good when we dust off our dreams and put on our Batman suit.

Nurturing ourselves, or dreaming, is the respite we need, so that we can continue to nurture others. And we’ll know when we aren’t doing enough because each of us has a boundary. When that boundary is crossed, we become resentful. Our doing can become about manipulating others into getting what we want. Our resentment can turn to anger, which, if left unchecked, can become rage and, more often than not, depression. Depression is rage turned inward. If we find ourselves angry, it’s important to listen and wonder why. Anger tells us something is amiss, that something or someone (possibly ourselves) needs to be attended to. Anger or sadness can be a warning that our boundaries have been crossed. A great example of establishing boundaries comes from April Perry, a codirector of The Power of Moms (powerofmoms.com). She considers each day of motherhood to be a privilege, but she’s often overwhelmed by the workload. As one of her daughters commented, “Mom, you know how you said you wanted to be the kind of mother who makes brownies every day? Well, the only thing we do every day is empty the dishwasher!”

April Perry: Mommy Is a Person

Mothers have an amazing capacity to love and care for their families. We don’t expect our lives to be unchanged once we have children. Their laughter, smiles, darling antics, and the love that radiates from them (even as infants) are worth whatever it takes. The challenge comes when we start to feel like martyrs and forget that behind the snuggling, carpools, discipline, and endless procession of meals, we are still women.

The first time I remember wondering where “April” had gone was during a lunch with three of my children. Before I had even gotten past the crust of the sandwich I had made for myself, someone wanted a refill of milk. Another needed a side of cheese, and a third wanted the sandwich opened, not folded. I didn’t like the frustration I felt, so the next time we all sat down to eat, I did things a little differently.

After serving everyone their food (and a napkin and drink and utensils), I asked, “Does everyone have everything they need? I’d like you to tell me right now because I’m going to sit down and eat my food. I’m not getting up again until I’m done because Mommy is a person. Let’s say that all together: ‘Mommy . . . is . . . a person.’ That’s right. I get to eat, too. Everyone is all set? Great!”

It took a few days of training before my children stopped asking for things mid-meal, but my declaration worked. Sometimes I have to stifle a giggle at the dinner table because I’m deliriously excited to actually eat a whole plate of food in one sitting. Now my son will say, “Mom, can I have another roll with jelly, when you’re done eating?” I want to kiss him on his head and say, “Bless you, child!”

What surprised me was how quickly everyone agreed to my personhood. My children want me to be happy. They’re really not trying to be overly demanding. It’s just that they’re children. They let me know what they need. I simply need to do the same.

CONNECTING EMOTIONALLY

April is learning to set boundaries, to nurture herself so that she can nurture others—to make things magically work. What’s interesting is that the very reason those boundaries are so difficult is because of emotional attunement. While being perceived as feminine only within the context of a relationship—whether we’re someone’s mother, daughter, or sister—and when we are giving something to someone else can circumscribe our dreams, our connectedness can also move our dreams forward.

For example, because we are emotionally responsive to others, we generally know how to build relationships, and we sense when we need to give up something to maintain a relationship. We’re rarely asked to give something up, we just know. In the biblical account of Abigail, one important thing happens so quickly we could miss it. Nabal and David get into their ego-driven skirmish. Abigail doesn’t want her husband to die. She needs to fix the situation, and fast. She knows exactly what to do. There isn’t a long passage in the Bible about how she deliberated.

These scenarios happen so often we probably don’t recognize them. For example: your husband isn’t sure what step his career should take or how he should navigate that next move. You know what he is capable of and how to help him do it. Or, your child is struggling in school and you intuitively know how to troubleshoot, whether academically or socially. Another scenario: you sit in a meeting at work or in the community. Others hear what’s said, but you’re picking up on what isn’t said. Consequently, you can move things forward in a way others cannot.

In Orson Scott Card’s book The Call of Earth, the character Hushith “lives in the constant awareness of all the connections and relationships among the people around her. Having a web-sense is the most important thing in her life, as she watches people connect and detach from each other, forming communities and dissolving them.”

Yes is the key word of connection. Women know how to say yes, to connect to others and build relationships. This feminine strength of building relationships serves us well, whether within our homes or in the community.

During an especially daunting period in my career, my friend Stacey Petrey referred me to Harvard Business School professor Boris Groysberg’s article “How Star Women Build Portable Skills,” a study indicating that women are generally more successful than men in moving from one job to another because of the portability of our skills.

Groysberg states, “Women have learned how to build external networks of clients, associates, and other professionals outside the organizations that remain intact when they depart . . . Not because women set out to do this but because they [women] are often marginalized, left out of the office power structure, and have to fight institutional barriers, so they build external networks out of necessity.”

This was precisely what I was unwittingly doing in order to make things work at work. I needed to get my job done, and I found that I wasn’t getting the resources I needed within my firm. So I got creative and started constructing networks outside my firm. In the process, I acquired a competency that has become one of my greatest strengths.

MANAGING FORMAL POWER

None of what I’ve said means we don’t need to gain skills. Nor does it mean that formal or explicit power doesn’t matter, especially when it comes to dreaming. It does.

I’m always intrigued, even eager, to see Forbes’ list of “The World’s 100 Most Powerful Women.” In compiling this list, the editors explained that “Forbes looked for women who run countries, such as Angela Merkel, Chancellor of Germany, large corporations, such as Indra Nooyi, CEO of PepsiCo, or influential nonprofits, such Risa Lavizzo-Mourey, Chairman of Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. Rankings are a combination of two scores: visibility—by press mentions—and the size of the organization or country these women lead.”

I love that these women have formal power. They may speak softly; people listen regardless. They also carry a big stick, or have the wherewithal, typically financial heft, to put their words into action. Wielding formal power is impressive for women, given that we are taught that women are only feminine when we are giving something to someone else. I want to do this better; we each need to do this better. There are policies that won’t be implemented, business concepts that won’t get funded, wrongs that won’t be righted, until we do. In other words, dreaming requires us to boldly do something for ourselves, which we are not conditioned to do as women. When we recognize this stumbling block, we will be better prepared to bravely seek our dreams and actually achieve them.

ACKNOWLEDGING HOW CAPABLE WE ARE

It is important that we draw on our innate relational skills. It’s also important to not allow others to convince us that we’re capable only because of our particularly female strengths.

As a stock analyst I was considered effective as measured by a number of different polls of institutions, including the Institutional Investor poll. But it was only toward the end of my decade as an analyst that I began to believe I was good. I excelled at brokering meetings between CEOs and clients (potential investors in their companies), at marketing my ideas, and at anticipating client needs—all things that women are expected to do well—and these skills were devalued within my firm. Though I was good at building the models, analyzing the companies, and picking stocks, on more than one occasion colleagues would pejoratively remark, “Whitney is successful because of her soft skills.” It took me a long time to learn to ignore these snarky remarks, to recognize that clients paid Merrill Lynch for access to my research because I was a valuable resource to them. Being able to work with me was important, even critical, but “nice” on its own wouldn’t have been enough.

In the book If You’ve Been a Mother You Can Do Anything, author Ann Crittenden makes a similar point. “What could be a greater transformational act than turning a drooling, demanding baby into a thinking, compassionate, hard-working, law-abiding adult? Clearly the parents who accomplish this, who help a child develop his or her fullest potential are the original transformative leaders.” I would add that parents, and mothers in particular, sell ourselves short if we buy into the premise that parenting well is just about the “soft skills.”

APPRECIATING PATIENCE AND PERSPECTIVE

Another feminine strength is patience. Most women have the experience of sacrificing resources and time to help their fathers or husbands be what they are going to be. There’s a historical reason for this. Men were traditionally the breadwinners and, therefore, a family’s resources were allocated to making sure he could win the bread.

The experience of most women is very different. Our attention is divided. Often because of our feminine strength of doing for others, the dreams we cherish, beyond attending to those we love, are pursued part-time or delayed. And certainly our dream of seeing our children grow into happy, responsible adults takes decades to play out. Patience is therefore required. There are pieces being put into place, but we can’t quite see how everything fits. As with a puzzle, the pieces eventually come together beautifully. Remember—Julia Child was in her thirties when she started culinary school. She was in her forties when she became a cooking instructor and in her fifties when Mastering the Art of French Cooking was published. Sometimes our dreams take a while to unfold.

Saren Loosli received a BA from Wellesley College and MEd from Harvard, and is one of the founders of The Power of Moms (powerofmoms.com). Through the gifts of patience and perspective, Saren has been able to direct her passion for solving big problems in the third world toward improving her local community and helping other moms find joy in motherhood.

Saren Loosli: The Power of Moms

I studied third world development in my undergraduate years, then studied what education is and what more it could be for my master’s degree. During my years of academia I thought I had figured out a whole lot of brilliant solutions to many vital issues.

But somehow I never quite got in the position to implement my ideas. I did some cool things: I worked in orphanages in Eastern Europe, was involved with humanitarian aid in Kenya and Bolivia, ran volunteer-promotion efforts nationwide, set up programs in needy schools . . . then I started having children.

Because my fertility clock was ticking when I finally found “Mr. Right,” we started our family quickly, and the kids came in rapid succession. Thanks to a surprise set of twins, I had five children in just five years.

While I loved all my children dearly, and was so grateful that my dream of having a family came true, mothering so many small children was overwhelming. As I struggled to meet the basic needs of my children, I saw my vision of changing the larger world drift further and further away. I crammed bits and pieces of work for various worthy causes in between naps and diaper changes and story times (part-time training and consulting, service work for my church, helping a nonprofit serving Bulgarian orphanages get off the ground). But mostly, my life consisted of doing rather mundane and often unpleasant things for lots of noisy, messy, wonderful people with many mutually exclusive needs. Wasn’t I meant to do something more?

One day I read a quote by Mother Teresa that stuck with me: “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” Motherhood is perhaps the greatest example of a long, long string of small things that, done with great love and extra thought, can have ripple effects that go on for generations. I came to realize that maybe my “cause,” my purpose in life, was right under my nose. Perhaps mothering my own kids, helping make the schools in my own community better, being a good neighbor and friend, and learning from and helping the other mothers around me was a much “grander” cause than any other I could pursue.

My children are informed about world issues and they pray at night for the orphans in Bulgaria that we do a fundraiser for each Christmas. But I hope they’re also learning something it took me a whole lot of years to figure out: I now know that doing little things to better the world immediately around you, and helping with the things you’re already part of, is vital and beautiful, and often more satisfying than trying to impact big groups and sweeping causes.

Taking treats to a lonely neighbor is just as important as sending money to a lonely orphan. Offering friendship to a left-out kid at school is just as important as giving food to a hungry child in Africa. Volunteering in my children’s classrooms and helping them with their homework is just as important as changing education systems, and helping bright, motivated mothers find one another and share what they know is just as important as helping nonprofits to pool their resources and knowledge.

The micro matters, a lot. The macro doesn’t happen without the micro. The little things really do count. You and I can change the world by changing our world, one person, one mother, one family at a time, starting right here with you and me.

Saren had dreams that seemed in conflict—being a full-time mother and trying to bring about significant change in the poorest countries in the world. Like many women, she has a strong desire to improve the world, but rather than put that dream on hold while caring for the needs of her young family, she is finding a way to pursue her dream in a different way, on a different scale. I have no doubt that some day Saren will come back to her original dream of tackling big problems in the third world, but she has the perspective to understand and enjoy the dreams she is accomplishing today.

CHERISHING FEMININE STRENGTHS

In Rick Riordan’s book The Sea of Monsters, the second in a series of children’s novels loosely based on ancient Greek mythology, the magical tree that guards Camp Half-Blood has been poisoned. Percy Jackson, a half-blood son of Poseidon, and Annabeth, the half-blood daughter of Athena, have only days to find the Golden Fleece, the one magical item that will heal the tree before Camp Half-Blood is overrun by monsters.

After the Golden Ram was sacrificed, the Golden Fleece hung on a tree in the middle of the kingdom. Riordan’s Annabeth explains, “The Fleece brought prosperity to the land; animals stopped getting sick. Plants grew better. Farmers had bumper crops. Plagues never visited. That’s why Jason wanted the Fleece. It can revitalize any land where it’s placed. It cures sickness, strengthens nature, cleans up pollution.”

In the Psyche myth, which is similar to Riordan’s story, Psyche’s second task requires that she gather fleece that has the power to heal. To obtain the fleece she must wait until sundown when the rams disperse. She can then safely pick strands of fleece off the brambles. Psyche’s ability to acquire the fleece without being crushed is a metaphor for every woman’s task of gaining power without losing her innate sense of connectedness and compassion. The fleece symbolizes the power to get things done in a way that gives life to and revitalizes others.

As we look to identify our strengths it’s important to examine our identities, including our gender. As women, we are sometimes denied opportunities, as was the case with Eunice Shriver, founder of the Special Olympics. Her father was reported to have said she would have made a fine politician, had she been a man; but we also gain opportunities as we tap into our fearlessness on behalf of those we love, as we explore our emotional attunement, our innate relational skills, and our long-term perspective. Our feminine strengths may not always be acknowledged or even recognized. As Seth Godin writes, “The easier to quantify, the less it is worth.” When we come to understand our particular abilities and talents as women, we have another tool to help us discover and achieve our dreams.

VALUING OUR FEMININITY . . .

People used to look out on the playground and say that the boys were playing soccer and the girls were doing nothing . . . But the girls weren’t doing nothing—they were talking. They were talking about the world to one another. And they became very expert about that in a way the boys did not.

—Carol Gilligan, American psychologist