The Second Step is a B*TCH!

In many ways, it is an exciting time to be a woman or member of another marginalized group.   I don’t mean to diminish the hate and vitriol that is prevalent in a certain U.S. political party, but that's a whole other post. 

Today, I am thinking about how many inspirational voices there are, speaking to us.  Women, people of color, LGBTQ+ people, etc. who are out there, sharing their work, sharing their knowledge in an effort to lift up the rest of us.  It’s beautiful and amazing.

People like Cathy Heller, Jenna Kutcher, Amy Porterfield, Rachel Rodgers, the Dow Janes, the Courageous Brand, Marie Forleo, just to name a few.  They are writing books, producing podcasts and sharing tidbits of knowledge via their social media platforms.  Their voices are what this world so desperately needs.

 

This quote has resonated with me for a long time.  Sending the elevator back down for the next person (cause, let's not limit it to just women!)  How powerful that concept is.  Raising one another up, making room at the top.

Yet, it seems that at some point, these smart, innovative people fall into the same old-school thinking as the predominantly white male leaders that have come before them  – creating offerings that are only accessible by an elite few.  The elevator becoming a very expensive carrot, inaccessible to those who do not have disposable income.

Most of them are generous enough to offer either free or low-cost opportunities to engage those who are just starting out.  Some of them provide incredible value in these limited-time/low-cost opportunities (I am looking at you, Rachel Rodgers and Amy Porterfield).  But the one thing they all have in common is that the second step is a B*ITCH.

 

Those free/low-cost opportunities always include a sales pitch for their programs, masterminds, etc.  Of course, they are running a business and profitability is always the end goal.  I am happy to sit through a sales pitch to glean whatever I can from what they are offering.  But what I REALLY want, the is the opportunity to get to the next step, is always out of my reach.

After investing between $0 and $100, the next step consistently is $2000-$10,000+.  That is a HUGE step for someone just starting out.  

One of these women who I greatly admire and whose work I can truly say was life-changing, offered a 5-day session for $100-$300.  At the end, they offered a special webinar to hear more.  The webinar was broken down based on how much your business was currently making annually, the smallest category being $0-$30K.   Not only is that a really wide range, but one of the registration questions was “Can you afford a five figure investment [for the next class]”?!?  Uh… what??? 

So the expectation is that, at best, this offer requires you to spend one-third of your annual earnings.  It’s not reasonable or realistic.

The mantra of many of this new genre of mentors and leaders is about sending the elevator back down.  Lifting up marginalized people.  Helping them launch their own businesses/offerings.  Freeing them them from dependence on jobs that are often lead by old-school white men.  Empowering them to step into their own power and bring their gifts into the world.

Yet the price tags leave an awful lot of us without a seat at the table.   You only get to be part of the club if you are already a member. 

 

I have heard some of these women tell their own stories of how they put a deposit down on a masterclass, not knowing how they were going to pay for the rest of it.  One has said, “If you really want it, you will figure out how to pay for it.”  Another suggests that we won’t value what we are getting if it we aren’t paying a super high price for it.  Several tell us that our lives are defined by the five people we spend the most time with.  Yet the cost of engaging with people who can lift us up is beyond our financial resources.

This gaslighting is so harmful on so many levels.   Not being able to invest 4-5 figures into a masterclass often has no relevance to how much we want something.  Paying out money we don’t have, or worse, putting it on a credit card, is not fiscally wise, and I would argue that it is irresponsible to suggest that someone do that.  We aren’t choosing whether to invest in their program or keep that money in the bank.  The choice is whether to invest in the program or pay our mortgage, or keep the heat/water/lights on, or pay for medication, or pay for our kids clothes/activities/education.

I can't help but wonder -- Could the 17 year-old songwriter, trying to survive in LA, afford Cathy Heller’s programs?  Could the young black mother of young children, who was out of work at the same time as her husband, afford to attend ROI or join The Club?  How would it feel to them to hear that their inability to pay meant they weren’t really invested in their dreams?  Would either of them survived investing thousands of dollars they didn’t have into a program?

More importantly, what would it have meant to them to have had the opportunity to be in a community with other like-minded people?  How might they have benefited with access to a mentor and an affordable program to light the way?  How might their lives have been different?

Newton’s First Law of Motion tells us that a body at rest or a body in motion will remain that way unless a force is acted upon it.  It also tells us that it takes a lot more effort to get moving than to keep moving.   Yet those who are just starting out are unable to access the extra force needed to get moving.

I am not suggesting that these thought leaders reduce the value of what they offer.  I understand and talk about value pricing daily as part of my job.  I get it and I applaud it.

I am challenging them to find ways to better align with their professed values.  That they use their creativity and wisdom to figure out how to build a bigger table and a ladder with more rungs.

Surely there is a way to offer these lessons and materials in bite-sized pieces.  Maybe someone can’t afford a year-long program for $2500 but could swing a $300 program with six-months access to just the first level.  Asynchronous learning with limited in-person or electronic interaction for questions, clarification or direction, for example.

Yes, the journey will take them longer, and probably cost them more in the long run.  But at least they will be moving.  Once they are moving, that makes the next step more attainable.  And the next.  And the next. 

I truly believe that after the initial investment, a format with smaller steps and commensurate pricing will ultimately increase the profitability of these organizations, because right now, they are earning $0 from a lot of us.  

Wanting to make the world a better place is laudable.  Making the tools accessible to those who need them most is the greatest gift and most effective way to achieve that goal. 

 

Avoiding Difficult People

I have been thinking about this for a long time, and have said it repeatedly.  I saw another example of it yesterday and today, and thought I'd throw it out here.

You know those people are just a pain in the ass to deal with.  The ones with whom every interaction is confrontational.  The people who are often gifted at gaslighting.  Who frequently respond defensively, often with the force of a nuclear explosion.

It is a common and natural response to avoid dealing with those people.  Sometimes we are afraid to cross them. To walk on egg shells around them.  To make nice to avoid the blow up that will inevitable occur.   To walk away feeling belittled, small and sometimes stupid rather than stand in our beliefs.  We often feel angry with ourselves for accepting such treatment.  We get resentful.

Our silence is often construed as acceptance.  As agreement.  People like this don't think, "Oh crap, they quit talking to me because they disagree."  They think, "I shut them up.  I won." or they blame the other person for the destruction of the relationship.  They don't worry that they lost our friendship, support, love, etc.  They just move on to someone else.

We can cite chapter and verse on why they behave that way, and why we respond that way.  But that isn't the point of this post.

The point is, that we help create the monsters.  When we avoid dealing with those people, they don't just get away with behaving that way, they gain power.  Every time we dance around a subject or make ourselves small to avoid the pain of the interaction, the other person collects power chips, like characters in a video game.  The power they collect is not just wielded over us, but others as well.  They use that "win" to build power for their next interaction - whoever that might be with.

Have you noticed that often, those difficult people end up in positions of power - in business, in organizations, in family dynamics?  They dominate over book clubs, PTOs, family gatherings, in companies.  They are the person everyone hopes will quit.  Or, to quote Lily Tomlin in "9 to 5", the person you hope gets "something minor.  Just enough to keep him out of lives for 20-30 years."

I have seen these people turn companies toxic, drive away potential members in an organization, leave support groups, turn off volunteers (and then bitch about the lack of volunteers) and destroy family relationships.  I would do so far as to say that we watched it almost destroy the U.S. from 2016-2022 (and the jury is still out on whether we can save our democracy).

It sucks to have to deal with these people.  I have spent most of my life avoiding - at any and all cost - engaging with such people.  It has taken my decades to realize that many of the monsters I have encountered in my life, I have contributed in creating.  I contributed with my tiptoeing around issues, remaining silent and making myself small.

Speaking up is SCARY.  Especially when the person you are speaking up to has legitimate power over you.  We collectively have to get better about not avoiding these people.  We need to do it early and often.  We need to do it before they have collected power and advanced to the top of the food chain. 

When someone speaks up, often that opens the door for others to speak up.  Sometimes speaking up will be emotional - that's OK.  Sometimes you will want to say it with as much love as you can muster - that's good.  Sometimes you will need to speak up professionally and objectively - that's smart.  Sometimes you will lose your ever loving shit in the heat of the moment - that happens.  

It is up to all of us to speak truth the the bullshit and change the damn narrative.

In Defense of Participation Trophies

I am going to go someplace really un-popular here.  I am going propose that  Participation Trophies are important.  Yep, those trophies that have people enraged.  The ones that many say have contributed to the entitlement of the younger generations.  (For the record, I disagree that younger generations are entitled, but that’s another subject for another time.)  The trophies that are perceived to be handed out simply because someone was on the team.

The argument is that people, usually kids, should earn their trophies.  They should accomplish something to earn a trophy.  They should achieve something. 

The problem with that argument is not in theory, it is in the application.  It is in how we define earning, accomplishments, and achievements.

In the application of awarding trophies, the accomplishments are normally reserved for the extraordinary of the team.   The highest RBI.  Most points scored.  Most assists.  The kids who came in first, second, third.  The best performer.  The person who had the staring role.  Most goals.  Most outs.  Most saves. Most yards.

I do not take anything away from the achievements of these people.  Many of them work hard at their activity.  Some, and I would argue more than some, achieve those things for several reasons.  First, some have some natural aptitude for their activity.  An inborn talent.  Second, whether by talent or training, they get more opportunities, more time on the field and more time in the spotlight.  It’s easy to score a lot of points when you are also getting the most playing time.  And lastly, many of the kids who are at the head of the pack are also frequently the ones who for whom their activity is more than an extracurricular – it is a lifestyle.  Their, and their families lives, often revolve around practices, travel teams, tournament and competition weekends.  They spend their "free time" with specialized coaches or in private lessons.

But let’s look at the kids who aren’t at the top of the heap.  The ones who don’t have a natural aptitude, whose families may not be able to afford extra coaching or lessons, who are spending more time on the bench or in the background.  The kids for whom the activity isn’t or cannot be, a lifestyle.  The ones who just want to play for the fun of it and be part of the team.

The kids who continue to sign up and show up.  Who are regulars at rehearsals and practices.  Who run the drills, the routines, the plays.   The kids who suit up for every game and warming the bench.  The ones who play Villager # 3 in the background.  The ones who come in and do their part, so the stars can do theirs.

The kids who only get court time when the score is so high, a coach can afford to put in a “lesser” player.  The kid whose only shot at the spotlight is if the lead gets strep throat.  The kid who is only getting a minute or two on the field every couple games.

Yet they keep signing up and showing up.  They keep supporting their teammate, cast mates, organizations.  They keep cheering for their teams.  They keep playing their part, even if their part isn’t big and shiny and extraordinary.

Those are the kids that many say do not deserve recognition, awards or trophies.  What kind of message does that send to our kids?  That the only things worth recognizing and celebrating are the extraordinary ones? 

As adults, we want our contributions and efforts to be recognized.  We may not win “Salesman of the Year” or find a cure for cancer or get an award for a cool new piece of tech, but we do expect, and need, to hear we are valued, by our bosses, often in the form of raises, promotions, new opportunities.  We expect these things even if we aren’t the top of the pack.  We are hurt and even angry and resentful when we don’t get them. So why do so many want to deprive our children of the same recognition for their own efforts and contributions?

 

Most parents, when asked, say what they want most for their children is for them to be happy.  Yet, we only want to reward those at the top.  Where does that leave everyone else?

 

According to many, undeserving of a trophy.

I say that they do deserve trophies, awards, recognition.  It takes heart to keep signing up, always being in a supportive role and yet still showing up time and time again and being the best supportive player you can be.  It takes courage to spend an entire game on the bench, longing to play, waiting for your minute or two on the court or field.  To audition again and again for a role in the chorus.  It takes generosity to cheer on those who are doing what you wish to do.

They contribute to their activities.  They ensure that a team meets the minimum required number of player for their league or organization.  Where would a team be if only the top players signed up?  They add interest and color in plays and musicals.   Can you imagine Belle singing about finding adventure while walking through empty streets of France?   What would happen to a team who has three top players out with injuries if these other contributing team members weren’t there?

Those people are every bit as deserving as the lead scorers, best defenders, starring players.  Their commitment to their activities, efforts at rehearsals and practices, and their attitudes - despite many thinking they are “less than” their teammates - deserve recognition, rewards and yes, trophies.  The need to hear it from us, their coaches and teachers and directors and parents.  They need to feel that their contributions and efforts count.   That they are celebrated and appreciated.  That they matter.  Because they do.

Maybe “Participation” is the wrong name.  It doesn’t matter what we call it.  What matters is that we recognize their contributions and their efforts, regardless of where they rank. 

PS: For a great post about a girl who definitely deserves a trophy, check this out.

This is The Time

Like many working moms in my area, I drive my daughter to the bus stop every morning, on my way to work.  When the weather is cold or wet, which is often here in SW PA, we all sit in our respective cars until the bus comes.  We can see the bus stop before ours, so usually when the bus arrives at that stop, that triggers the kids to all pile out and wait for the bus’s imminent arrival.

From the time she was in elementary school, I noticed that M was always the last one in line.   I asked her about it many years ago, and she responded that everyone was in rush to get on or jockeying to be first in line, and it was just easier to go last. 

At the time, I felt proud that she was wise and mature enough to recognize that there was nothing special about being first in line.

Now that they are in middle school, everyone lines up really nicely, no pushing, no arguing.  M is often still the last person in line, and still seems fine with it. 

M’s bus stop is surprisingly all girls, except for three boys, who are all brothers. 

Over the past few months, I have noticed a trend that has come to bother me.   

The cars closest to the bus stop (which is at a T) intersection varies – sometimes the girls are closest, sometimes the boys.  Regardless of position, the girls all walk over, and get in line in the same order that they arrive.  None of them really seems to care if they are first, middle or last. 

The boys, however, are another story.  Even if their mom’s car is the furthest away from the stop, the boys still run at breakneck speed, run around the girls and go to the front of the line. 

At first, I rolled my eyes and thought, “Boys!”  You can probably hear the tone in my voice through this post.  The “boys will be boys”, “boys have so much energy”, “boys just don’t mature as fast as girls” attitude.

I even commented on it to M, whose response was an annoyed but resigned sigh of agreement.

But a few weeks ago, it hit me.  THIS is where it starts.

This is where we are missing the boat as parents. 

Why is it OK for these boys to run ahead of the girls?  Even if they are less mature, they can be taught – the fact that they made it to middle school proves that.  Why is the mother not addressing this?  Why is she not telling them – it isn’t OK to cut the line?

And why are these girls not saying something about it?  Why are they allowing it?  Why am I, a mother who considers herself a feminist and champion of equal rights, not encouraging my daughter to speak up?

It’s the bus stop line.  They all have assigned seats.  It doesn’t really matter one whit if they get on first or last – they will all get the same seat they had yesterday, and the day before.  It’s a blip on the spectrum of a lifetime.  I am making a mountain out of a molehill.  Let it go. It isn’t a big deal…………

Or is it?

Is this where boys start to learn they can do what they want and the girls won’t argue with them?  That boys can take what they want and the girls don’t get a say?  They are entitled to get the top position? 

Is this where girls learn to resign themselves to the back of the line because it is just easier?  To accept what they are given, rather than getting what they earned, because “Boys”?  To give in rather than stand up?

I believe it is.  This is the time and this is one of the moments.   The time where we need to teach that energetic boys still need to go to the back of the line and quiet girls still get to be first in line.    The time where we stop making excuses for boys and recognizing that they are capable of doing better and being more.   

The time when we stop accepting when girls make themselves small and expect more from them.

This is where it starts.  This is where we start changing the world for the better.