Working as a landscape designer in a male dominated business for 25 years has taught me to not take any bullshit in a polite way, keep a sense of humor and always be prepared with well thought out answers.

Bias will always be there but it should be met head on and dismissed for what it is and then the work can really get done.

"Quelles jambes," my French professor said when I returned from France sporting the high-heeled, bare-legged, short (today’s "pencil skirt") skirt  by which I was so inspired by my French colleagues while in school in France.  Mildly discomforted by this personal, flirty remark, a propos of nothing during a literature class comprised of, say, 40, I chose to ignore it.  My grades soared;  I was offered a part-time position at the French Embassy (at which this professor was a formidable presence), which I accepted because I needed the money & it suited my schedule & helped my résumé.  Plus, it made me work even harder to produce good papers that would justify what I thought was favorable treatment for the genetically accidental gift of the legs that so pleased him.

Forever after, in his presence, I felt compromised;  there continued, during the semester, references to my legs, as well as seductive pre- or post-class more general repartée of a clearly flirty nature.  I would smile demeurly, saying nothing in particular, unsure of how to handle this most uncomfortable situation.  Who could I tell?  Parents?  No way.  College advisor?  Well, I had worn those high heels w/ a tight skirt.  Bad me.  In a way I benefited;  working harder & harder to justify his grades & evaluation of me, I learned a lot & produced excellent work.  The pride in this work, & several honors that subsequently came with it, gratify me to this day.  I worked diligently and passionately and earned it all, I feel.

But here’s the deal:  In a way, my work was informed by a slave or hostage mentality  —  I continued to reject his escalating sexual overtures (implicitly, not overtly; I was far too shy & unsure of what was "accepted" & what might be "insulting" to be overt)  and therefore felt I was at his mercy.  He could, after all, lower my grades, fire me from my job at the Embassy, & in various other ways make me "pay" for dismissing his sexual advances.

There was no forum for this stuff.  There was no appropriate court of appeals through college deans or advisors.  Power trumped students’ rights.  Betty Friedan had spoken powerfully and eloquently;  Gloria Steinem was just getting started.  But still, this was the Dark Ages of Feminism and consciousness-raising.  The light was ever-so-slowly beginning to shine.  Lagging far behind, of course, was legislation that would empower women to report, without fear of retribution, sexual harrassment of all sorts.  In my case, it would’ve been harrassment by a person in authority over me.      

"Quelles jambes," my French professor said when I returned from France sporting the high-heeled, bare-legged, short (today’s "pencil skirt") skirt  by which I was so inspired by my French colleagues while in school in France.  Mildly discomforted by this personal, flirty remark, a propos of nothing during a literature class comprised of, say, 40, I chose to ignore it.  My grades soared;  I was offered a part-time position at the French Embassy (at which this professor was a formidable presence), which I accepted because I needed the money & it suited my schedule & helped my résumé.  Plus, it made me work even harder to produce good papers that would justify what I thought was favorable treatment for the genetically accidental gift of the legs that so pleased him.

Forever after, in his presence, I felt compromised;  there continued, during the semester, references to my legs, as well as seductive pre- or post-class more general repartée of a clearly flirty nature.  I would smile demeurly, saying nothing in particular, unsure of how to handle this most uncomfortable situation.  Who could I tell?  Parents?  No way.  College advisor?  Well, I had worn those high heels w/ a tight skirt.  Bad me.  In a way I benefited;  working harder & harder to justify his grades & evaluation of me, I learned a lot & produced excellent work.  The pride in this work, & several honors that subsequently came with it, gratify me to this day.  I worked diligently and passionately and earned it all, I feel.

But here’s the deal:  In a way, my work was informed by a slave or hostage mentality  —  I continued to reject his escalating sexual overtures (implicitly, not overtly; I was far too shy & unsure of what was "accepted" & what might be "insulting" to be overt)  and therefore felt I was at his mercy.  He could, after all, lower my grades, fire me from my job at the Embassy, & in various other ways make me "pay" for dismissing his sexual advances.

There was no forum for this stuff.  There was no appropriate court of appeals through college deans or advisors.  Power trumped students’ rights.  Betty Friedan had spoken powerfully and eloquently;  Gloria Steinem was just getting started.  But still, this was the Dark Ages of Feminism and consciousness-raising.  The light was ever-so-slowly beginning to shine.  Lagging far behind, of course, was legislation that would empower women to report, without fear of retribution, sexual harrassment of all sorts.  In my case, it would’ve been harrassment by a person in authority over me.      

"Quelles jambes," my French professor said when I returned from France sporting the high-heeled, bare-legged, short (today’s "pencil skirt") skirt  by which I was so inspired by my French colleagues while in school in France.  Mildly discomforted by this personal, flirty remark, a propos of nothing during a literature class comprised of, say, 40, I chose to ignore it.  My grades soared;  I was offered a part-time position at the French Embassy (at which this professor was a formidable presence), which I accepted because I needed the money & it suited my schedule & helped my résumé.  Plus, it made me work even harder to produce good papers that would justify what I thought was favorable treatment for the genetically accidental gift of the legs that so pleased him.

Forever after, in his presence, I felt compromised;  there continued, during the semester, references to my legs, as well as seductive pre- or post-class more general repartée of a clearly flirty nature.  I would smile demeurly, saying nothing in particular, unsure of how to handle this most uncomfortable situation.  Who could I tell?  Parents?  No way.  College advisor?  Well, I had worn those high heels w/ a tight skirt.  Bad me.  In a way I benefited;  working harder & harder to justify his grades & evaluation of me, I learned a lot & produced excellent work.  The pride in this work, & several honors that subsequently came with it, gratify me to this day.  I worked diligently and passionately and earned it all, I feel.

But here’s the deal:  In a way, my work was informed by a slave or hostage mentality  —  I continued to reject his escalating sexual overtures (implicitly, not overtly; I was far too shy & unsure of what was "accepted" & what might be "insulting" to be overt)  and therefore felt I was at his mercy.  He could, after all, lower my grades, fire me from my job at the Embassy, & in various other ways make me "pay" for dismissing his sexual advances.

There was no forum for this stuff.  There was no appropriate court of appeals through college deans or advisors.  Power trumped students’ rights.  Betty Friedan had spoken powerfully and eloquently;  Gloria Steinem was just getting started.  But still, this was the Dark Ages of Feminism and consciousness-raising.  The light was ever-so-slowly beginning to shine.  Lagging far behind, of course, was legislation that would empower women to report, without fear of retribution, sexual harrassment of all sorts.  In my case, it would’ve been harrassment by a person in authority over me.      

I encountered bias with my very first job after leaving University back in the ’80s, here in London, England.  I applied to the BBC as a graduate for a position and was interviewed and was successful in being offered a secretarial role.  I discovered that young men who applied the same way were offered trainee studio manager or similar roles, which my experience was far more suited to than office work.  In my view the Internet and the subsequent increase in available information has helped the bias situation for women particularly and hopefully as we move forward although the discrimination still exists, mutual respect will grow between the sexes and true equality, ie opportunity, acceptance and value will become normal instead of an unusual event.

http://www.chrissysmith.net  

Maybe when I trained employees and then 2 years later one of those employees got a Supervisor position over me???? 

Starting work in the mid-70’s there was bias all over the place.  In high school in the 60’s my guidance counsellor suggested that I was bright and good with people.  Perhaps I would do well as a cocktail waitress.  (I had straight A’s in math and science.)  In college I was pushed toward teaching since if I insisted on working it wouldn’t interfere too much with my ability to spend time raising children.  (I wasn’t even seriously dating and had no interest in having a family nor aptitude for working with kids.)  In my first job I was told I was too aggressive for a female.  (When I challenged my manager saying the statement was sexist, he closed the door of his office and said, "Prove I ever said it.")  In my next job I found that my peer, hired half a year after me with exactly the same credentials made several thousand dollars more than I did.  (But he has a family, I was told.  Never mind that his wife had an even better paying job than he did.)  Mid-career I heard about several positions I would have very much wanted but only after they were filled by a male colleague, usually less qualified than I.  ("We thought you wouldn’t be interested in a job that required travel because you would need to be home for your family."  Of course, no one asked me my opinion.)

So, yes.  Bias throughout my career.  Some very subtle.  I persevered, worked harder than anyone else.  Made sure I was always prepared.  Always over achieved.  And I have been well rewarded in my career.

I am annoyed now when young women will say they are not feminists.  They don’t need that banding together of women to make sure there is equality.  Many do not see that some of that subtle bias still exists.  I am not a militant feminist but I do see a value of making sure promising talent is mentored.  That women are not subtly steered to the "good female roles" like HR and operations.

I’ll be happy when it does not warrant comment when a woman is the CEO of a Fortune 100 company.  When it doesn’t seem to concern anyone when the majority of managers are women and not men.

The challenge is that much of the biased actions in companies, whether gender or racially based, is very subtle, perhaps not even evident to the person with the bias.  It is difficult to prove and change.

I was blissfully unaware of any discrimination.  I had thought that sexual bias was a concept which died with the fight for the equal rights ammendment (which seems to have been killed in the 1980’s without ever being passed.)  I was successful in my career as a consultant, and it seemed to me that doors were open. 

Then my company asked a ‘favor’ that I test their new on-line payroll system.  I managed to break into the database within a few minutes - and discovered they had already populated it with live corporate payroll data.  Suddenly I found that although I was a mid-level manager, my male subordinates were earning nearly double my own salary.  My male colleages at the same corporate level were also earning nearly triple my own income.  I wasn’t feeling so ‘successful’ any more!  I presented my test results to not only the payroll development staff, but to my fellow femaie colleagues who were all substantially paid less than our male counterparts.  We all left the company within weeks.

Sadly, this experience has jaded me and I’ve been what I call ‘agressively careful’ that I am given credit for the work I do.

Yes I did. Long story and not in the mood to write it all. But yes. I’ve experienced both bias and flat out hard core sexual harrassment. as in being told if i didn’t meet the VP at his hotel when he flew into town that night i’d be fired for not obtaining the right pair of uniform pants.

The wow ladies stories were interesting. Joni’s was amazing. Not so many years ago really. I think that while women most definitely have more opportunity the kind of bias Joni experienced is still there. Specifically in the fact that men just tend to see other men as more valuable. They can’t quite put it in words but if you put a man and a woman side by side in any kind of job OTHER than a caretaker type position… men see men as more competent, authoritative and valuable. Not all men of course. But enough that it’s still a factor.