I am often asked what advice I would offer young women who aspire to, or who have embarked upon, careers in business (particularly in male-dominated fields). My advice to young women is no different than it is to young men: work hard; work really, really, really hard, work as hard as you can, and when you don’t believe you can work any harder, work harder.
Working hard matters. A popular phrase for some years has been “work smart.” I don’t like that expression – I never have. Of course we should work smart but we shouldn’t work smart instead of working hard; we should do both. They’re not mutually exclusive and they are both important.
So many times, employees would announce that they were able to leave early for the day because they’d “worked smart.”
“Really?” I’d respond. “Think how good you could be if you worked smart and you worked hard.”
And by the way, when something unexpected happens, when an emergency arises and all hell breaks loose, and you’re not at the office because you “worked smart” and left, then what sort of teammate are you?
I was once asked by a successful, prominent woman who was the president of a company that was a critical business partner to the Raiders to participate in a fireside chat she was hosting for employees of her company. During the question-and-answer period following our discussion, I was asked what advice I would give a young woman just starting out in business. I explained that my advice to young women is the same as my advice to young men: work hard.
The woman who asked me to join her in this chat gently placed her hand on my arm. “You mean work smart, right?” she said.
Well no, that’s not what I meant. But I paused, fully cognizant of the importance to our organization of the relationship between our respective businesses, wondering if I should temper my response. After a beat or two, I responded honestly: “No, I mean work hard.” I went on to note that we should aspire to work smart, too, and that working smart and working hard are not mutually exclusive.
So when asked for advice by young women, I share those gender-neutral thoughts about the importance of hard work. And then, I add this advice: stop thinking about the fact that you are a woman.
If a woman doesn’t want others to think about her gender, then it makes no sense whatsoever for a woman to think about her gender. If a woman wants to be considered and treated without regard to gender, then she should comport herself without regard to gender. If a woman wants her gender to be irrelevant, then she shouldn’t consider it relevant or really, consider it at all. Gender blind means gender blind.
I am frequently asked if I believe I was tested because I am a woman. I don’t know, maybe I was. People are tested at different times, for different reasons. What’s the best response when one is tested? Pass the test.
I never thought of myself as a woman in business. I never walked into any setting – not a league owners meeting, not a business meeting, not a football operations meeting – thinking about my gender. I didn’t think it fair or reasonable or intelligent for me to consider gender if I didn’t want others to consider gender. That just never made sense to me. It still doesn’t. If others chose to waste their time and energy considering my gender, fine, let them. I certainly was not going to waste mine.
I also don’t believe that women should presuppose that they will meet with gender resistance in any or every given situation. Such an assumption can in and of itself be detrimental.
A number of women I respect have shared with me that they do anticipate that they will be treated disparately because they are women. I understand that in some instances, those women have previously encountered disparate treatment because of their gender and they therefore anticipate that it will be the norm. I’m not suggesting that gender-based resistance (whether discriminatory hiring policies, pay gaps, or otherwise) does not exist. It does, and it’s wrong. I am also not suggesting that anyone who is on the receiving end of inappropriate or discriminatory treatment is at fault. Such treatment is unacceptable. I am simply suggesting that I don’t believe it’s necessarily fair or constructive or productive to presuppose or to assume that gender bias will exist in all environments and in all circumstances before learning that it does. If it does, one can and should then respond as one believes appropriate.
It may be that my views on these topics are generational. I have discussed this subject with many accomplished women who are roughly my age, certainly of my generation, and they have expressed that they too have ignored gender throughout their successful careers and that they too believe that it is counterintuitive to consider one’s gender while hoping that others do not. We have considered together that we are a shrinking minority in this respect.
I like my approach to business: that hard work matters, that doing your job matters, that working harder than anyone else matters, that working harder than you ever thought you could matters, and that comporting yourself without regard to gender matters. I don’t care that I am a woman. I don’t want anyone with whom I work or with whom I interact in business to care that I’m a woman. I don’t think about the fact that I am a woman. I don’t want anyone with whom I work or interact in business to think about the fact that I’m a woman. I want my gender to be irrelevant. I think that makes all kinds of sense. That approach may not work for everyone, but it worked for me.
Again, I have been told by women I respect that they strongly disagree with these observations. And again, we may have to agree to disagree. As noted, though, I am not questioning their experiences; I am speaking to mine.
I do recognize and appreciate that I had a privilege that many women do not: I worked for a man who afforded me an opportunity notwithstanding my gender. I did my best to make the most of that opportunity. I did so in the manner I believed best.
And that is why Al’s words were so significant to me and why I cherish them: Oh Amy – I swear at Amy – but I don’t consider her a woman.
* * *
This is not to say that gender-related issues never arose.
Early in my career, when traveling with the team to road games, I was frequently stopped by stadium security when attempting to access certain areas of the stadium.
When our team busses arrived at an away stadium, a hundred or more people – players, coaches, trainers, doctors, equipment and video staff, football staff, business operations staff, and more – poured out and walked toward the tunnel that led to the locker rooms, elevators, stadium innards, and field. I was one of those people.
While everyone else with our traveling party entered the stadium without breaking stride, I was stopped. Sometimes the order to stop was communicated verbally, sometimes I was given the halt gesture, and sometimes someone stepped in front of me, barring my entry. I was always eventually admitted, but only after a strong, hard look at my credential, the same credential worn by my colleagues.
This became a running joke among a group of us. A few of my coworkers stood with me as my credential was scrutinized and we laughed at both the predictability and absurdity of the situation. When officials of the club we were visiting saw what was happening, they rushed to help.
I was also again frequently stopped once we had entered the stadium and were headed toward the field. Again, a few of my coworkers waited with me and again, we shared a laugh. I vividly recall that one instance when security was giving me a particularly hard time, when Gordon Batty, the tremendously respected, legendary trainer of the Green Bay Packers, ran over and intervened. Red, which is what everyone called Gordon, was really angry when he saw that I had been stopped and although he was rushing toward his team bench, he made time to assist me. He didn’t have to, but he did and I have long appreciated that.
Why did I laugh instead of shout? I laughed at the predictability and absurdity of this and I laughed at the people who were too dumb to know that the world had changed. I know that I prefer to be yelled at than to be laughed at or ignored. I also knew that I would be granted access.
This stopped happening after my early travels with the team. People learned.
* * *
While writing this book, I spent a wonderful evening with two sensational high school students, both looking to attend college. As I interacted with these young women, I marveled at their poise, composure, intelligence, grace, wisdom, and focus. Had I not known that these young women were in high school, I would have believed them to be well into college or beyond. I certainly didn’t possess these characteristics when I was in high school.
I shared with these young women that I was working on a book in which I would share thoughts and stories about my years with the Raiders, and I asked them what they thought I should include in such a book. With no hesitation they began peppering me with a list of topics and questions that were intelligent, insightful, and intriguing.
What was it like to be a woman working for the Raiders? What was it like being a woman in the NFL? What was it like being the first woman to do what I did? Did I think people treated me differently because I was a woman? Did I ever sense that anyone didn’t want me doing my job because I was a woman? Did I try to prove anything because I was a woman? Did I try to act a certain way because I was a woman? Did I act differently because I knew I was the first woman in my position? Was it hard to be the first female CEO in the NFL?
Also seated with us were the mothers of these young women. One woman is a highly regarded Superior Court judge and the other an accomplished businesswoman.
Before answering the questions – or really, as part of my answer – I turned to their mothers and asked some questions: Have you ever thought about the fact that you are a woman when you take the bench? When you put on that black robe, do you consider yourself a female judge or simply a judge? Have you ever thought about the fact that you are a woman when instructing a jury, sentencing someone, or holding someone in contempt? Do you think about the fact that you are a woman when running a business? When meeting with bankers? Have either of you ever thought about the fact that you are women when doing any aspect of your respective jobs? The answer to each question was no. These women and I are approximately the same age.
I turned to the two students and said: “I did my job, your moms do theirs. I worked as hard as I could, as do your moms. That’s it. I didn’t waste my time or energy worrying about my gender or the concerns of others, and neither do your moms. If others are concerned, let them waste their time and energy with such concerns.” The mothers nodded in agreement and smiled. I found it fascinating that these young women were so interested in this topic. I also found it fascinating to watch them absorb everything we shared with them.
* * *
There was one time that I chose to share a gender-related story with Al. I hadn’t thought about this moment for ages, until sitting down to write this book.
I had read a powerful story involving our military. I can’t remember where I found this story and I don’t know whether it was precisely written or whether it was embellished. I do know that I found it in what I believed to be a credible publication.
As I was reading the story, I had an immediate and overwhelming urge to share it with Al and the moment I finished, I rushed across the hall to his office to do so. It was late in the evening – well after the time we normally finished our post-practice discussions – and I sat down to wait for him as he finished speaking with another staff member. As that person was walking out, I told Al that I wanted to read something to him. He started to stop me, but I began reading and either the tone of my voice or the first sentence of what I was reading, or both, struck him, and he sat back in his chair and allowed me to read the entire, fairly long story aloud. I know I won’t recount this military incident as beautifully as did the writer, but the story was basically this:
Fighting had been underway for hours, our forces were taking heavy fire, and we were suffering tremendous casualties. One of our planes was shot down very close to the enemy. A radio call from the pilot let us know where he was and how much time he thought he would have before the enemy reached him. A call went out asking whether there was anybody close to him with the fuel to get to him and what sort of ordnance they had. A number of pilots, all of whom wanted to help, responded immediately and reported that they were too far away, didn’t have enough fuel, or didn’t have any ordnance. Then, an army helicopter pilot came on the radio and said: here’s my location, I have this much fuel, I can be to him in this many minutes, I have no ordnance. I’m going to get him.
I will never forget her voice. I would follow her into combat anywhere, anytime.
As I finished reading the story, my voice was quivering substantially and I had goosebumps and a lump in my throat, as I do now. I looked at Al and the expression on his face was warm and understanding. He said, “I understand.” That was it: I understand.
To this day, I don’t know why it was so important to me to share that story with Al, but it was. I just know that the story touched me deeply and I wanted to share it with him. Perhaps it was my way of letting him know that, although we had never spoken about it, I appreciated that he provided me with the opportunity he did. That was a moment I will never forget.