When I returned to corporate America in 2002, after spending 25 years managing my husband’s medical practice and caring for a home and family, I was filled with trepidation. I was terrified that my once finely honed business acumen would be lacking in a world that had continued to move forward technologically while I changed diapers and burped babies. My fears were quickly put to rest as I experienced first hand the old adage, “The more things change….” Some aspects of a corporate environment are stagnant no matter how much “change” takes place.
In 1968, after two years at the premiere business school I stepped into a job in the public relations department at Lever Brothers. Built on stilts on prestigious Park Avenue, the corporate headquarters was award winning in more ways than architecture. Before the meanings of loyalty and dedication were lost to the bottom line, corporations were an extension of family. The person in the next office was not just a voice heard through the wall. We all knew each other and we all had a common goal… the success of The Company. Although, I am sure, there were people ready and willing to step on and over others in the climb to the top, I never met them. From mailroom to boardroom, everyone took pride in giving their best, knowing that yearly raises, health insurance and job security would be their reward.
Before the advent of PPOs and HMOs, most large firms had their own medical departments. Staff doctors were available to provide Band-Aids for paper cuts or a chest x-ray to rule out TB. There were extras, too; little bonuses we got every day – the twice daily coffee and donut cart (gratis), an inexpensive company cafeteria offering fare that quickly shattered any comparison to Horn and Hardart, the opportunity to buy products at highly discounted prices and, my personal favorite, testing new products before they were made available to the general public. I remember leaving work one evening with a supply of frozen waffles and a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth - she of the amber glass figure and enigmatic smile. Mrs. Butterworth became my favorite pancake syrup mostly because of the happy memories I poured and stored working for a great company.
After 18 months at Lever, I was offered a job in the executive offices of a well-known Wall Street bank. I was unprepared for the atmospheric changes I would find. Sure, we still had a company cafeteria and a medical department, but decorum was sadly lacking. It took only one day for me to learn that if the supply room door was closed, I should go elsewhere for loan agreements and signature cards. Embarrassed as I would have been at finding someone photocopying their nether region on the Xerox machine housed in that room, I would have been even more mortified had I opened the door on the tryst of the day – a far too common occurrence.
The executive floor where my office was located had an open seating plan which allowed for secretaries and superiors to maximize space without barriers. I have often thought that here is where lap dancing got its start. Some of the recipients went on to great success in the financial world. Years later, whenever I saw their names in print, I wondered if the now president of a global bank allowed his employees to fraternize in so familiar a way.
Like everyone who keeps abreast of the news, I am aware of the special threat sexual harassment suits are to corporations today. No longer is a worker’s compensation claim the primary cause for legal action. Now, “My, you look pretty,” strikes greater fear in the hearts of human resources directors than “Oh, my aching back!”
Twenty five years ago, little thought was given to the jokes and innuendo that were a part of every office. In fact, women were rarely offended by what they heard. They were as often the perpetrator as the prey. Taking offense became the norm once the realization that money talks was not just an axiom. Looking back, I have found it interesting that the women who ran the fastest to HR with a complaint were often the very ones who could strip a guy naked with a glance.
Personally, I was saddened when it became taboo to offer complements on appearance to co-workers. Everyone likes to hear that they look nice, that a particular color flatters their complexion or, perhaps, that the new power suit was worth the cost. When people feel proud, it is reflected in their work and not every comment has a hidden agenda. Some of my colleagues chided me for not taking a firmer stance on this issue, claiming that I was setting women’s liberation back, well, 25 years. My response is now and always has been that I do not need to be equal; I have been superior since birth. That is why I have a pedestal. The view is spectacular. I never get my feet wet in the rain; doors are opened for me; and men stand and pull out a chair when I approach their table. Oh, yes, they usually pay the bill and, no, I do not think I am prostituting myself. I am a big proponent of chivalry no matter the decade. I am also a big proponent of knowing how to play the game.
In war, the general with the larger army will often lose to the general with the better strategy. While my colleagues were grossing among themselves about how unfair the corporate world was for women, I was infiltrating enemy ranks… and I did it by remaining every bit a lady.
The banking world soon bored me and I moved on to become the assistant to the president of one of the largest Japanese stock brokerage houses in New York. Talk about culture shock!
More tomorrow…
Donna Carbone is the Executive Director/Playwright in Residence at the Palm Beach Institute for the Entertainment Arts, where education through entertainment is the mission statement.
Please visit: pbinstituteforentertainmentarts.com