A Dream for Daughters and Granddaughters
I dream that our daughters and granddaughters will live their whole lives with a deep knowing that the world is fair.
That our girls will own their worth and feel empowered. That they are unshakable in their sense of value. That they truly believe their fight is based on merit and not gender or color, creed or status.
We are part of the way there. We have a long way to go.
Growing up, I didn’t know gender bias was a thing. I wasn’t aware of racism either. Thanks to the first and second waves of feminism I grew up in a household where, while Mom cooked and cleaned and Dad brought home most of the bacon, my brother and I were treated equally. We got the same bedtime at the same age. We earned the same allowance for the same chores. With good grades came freedom, with poor grades came restriction. Our parents both expressed belief in our infinite potential if we worked hard and were good people. I’m so grateful to the women who came before and fought for reproductive rights, the vote, and a valued place in the workforce.
Growing up female and Jewish and being unaware of racism or gender bias feels far removed from where I sit today. In some ways this speaks to my enormous privilege. My younger brother and I were treated exactly the same by our parents, who taught us we could do anything if we worked hard and got good grades. We lived in a suburb of Philadelphia where no one was extremely rich and no one was extremely poor.
We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but enough. We drank powdered milk to save money, but had our own rooms and food in the fridge. Mom worked while dad got his PhD and then he worked while she got hers. It felt fair and equal.
After graduating from college and moving to New York City, I began freelancing as a graphic designer. I soon incorporated my first business, a design firm I named Tribecca Designs.
Even as I built business, and encountered many challenges, including married male clients trying to kiss me, and being called a fucking cunt, I chalked it up to being young and inexperienced.
I started another company called Covo when I was 35, no longer a budding entrepreneur, but a CEO in my own right. I cofounded the company with my brother and husband, and at one point after yet another meeting where male attendees didn’t hear me or listen, and my brother had to repeat my words, he turned to me and asked if his job was to repeat my words out of a “man face."
We laughed, because it was true. But our laughs were hollow, because it was true.
These encounters were illuminating because I could no longer rationalize them away as my being young (I wasn’t anymore) or inexperienced (I was a globally recognized industry expert). One of our partners took it a step further, referring to me as “that woman” in a strongly worded email I was not supposed to see, and it felt like a fuzzy film over my eyes dissolved, bringing the world into focus. I looked back on my past experiences in this new, harsher light, recognizing bias I hadn’t considered before. Anger bubbled up, outrage at the injustice. I wondered, if places as egalitarian as New York City and San Francisco could engender such bias, how far we had to go for the world to be the fair place I dream of. This clarity felt like a call to fight—a call to build a fairer world.
I began to learn as a way to equip myself. I sought out information never shared in school and stories of women who came before. After schooling myself on women’s history and world politics, and how much bullshit we’ve had to fight at every turn to just exist and have agency over our own bodies, I looked back and realized what we’ve always been up against.
While infuriating, I’m incredibly grateful that we’ve come as far as we have. I can get a doctorate, own property, raise money, take birth control. I can vote and join the military and don’t have to wear a corset or hoop skirt or bind my feet.
And yet: Women raise only 2% of the money men do, and women of color a fraction of that. We don’t earn equal pay for equal work. We carry way more than half of the average childrearing and eldercare burden. We are losing reproductive rights and our votes are being actively suppressed. We need to keep fighting, leading, running for office, and the men in the world need to take a step down and a step back. I welcome them as allies in raising us up, as equal partners in leadership and life. If not, get out of the fucking way.
In order to actualize my dream of true equality, I want to take this opportunity during Women’s History Month and offer 3 ways to advance this goal, regardless of who you are or your sphere of influence.
When a woman speaks, listen.
If her words get missed, talked over, or stolen, repeat them and offer attribution. “I love your idea on this. Can you repeat your concept?”
Hire with a DEI mindset. Diverse perspectives mean more resilient companies and boosted bottom lines. It requires more communication, courage, and going out of one’s comfort zone, but is the only way that makes sense.