Words matter, and they reveal a lot about the people who use them. At least, that’s what I’ve always thought.

Cracks me up that places like BCG and Accenture refer to consultants as “the professionals” and administrative folks as “support staff.” The former implies that only the consultants are actually professional. Any consultant with a few years’ experience has plenty of stories of unprofessional colleagues, and of impressively poised support staff.

Using “Consulting Team” and “Administrative Team” at least begins to give everyone the respect they deserve.

Like Charles Barkley, I never thought of myself as a role model. Maybe it was because I was a little older than my peers. Maybe it was because there were so few women in the senior ranks of premier management consulting firms. Who knows?

Point is, being seen as a role model is a big responsibility, and it can be draining and misleading. Difficult choices made for personal reasons - like my husband dropping his career in PR to stay home after the birth of our first child - was mistaken for a black and white recommendation. Time shifting to allow me to be present before bedtime was misinterpreted as “the way” for working moms to cope with demanding careers.

I’m not sure why I took such a hard road - only 6 weeks of maternity leave after the birth of our second child, intensive travel, long hours, high stakes, all for high comp and flexibility. I never advised anyone to do as I did.

I always felt no one person embodied all I aspired to become. My own role model was more an amalgamation of traits from a variety of people I knew and respected. Like so many other aspects of my life, I kept my choice of a role model flexible and open to new information.

Coming of age in the early ’70s, girls like me learned they should be treated as equals. We were the first group of girls to play competitive sports in high school (volleyball) and went to college in large numbers.

In 1983, I was the first woman hired to be on the consulting staff of the LA office of The Boston Consulting Group. For two years, I was the only female consultant. I wore dresses, suits, and blouses with french cuffs. Shoes and stockings were a welcome avenue of self-expression, and my LA colleagues considered my choices a little bit “wild.”
A visit to the Paris office while on vacation with my husband opened my eyes. There, I met a woman manager who wore black leather pants at work. Wow! I came back determined to liberate BCG’s female consultants.

I love hearing from women from those days. They say that because I wore pants, they had the nerve to do the same. All at once, in the mid-1980s, working women across the country had had enough - now we wear skirts and dresses because we want to, not because of some official or implicit dress code.

Another reason I love Paris!

It sounded so glamorous - work hard, travel on business, make good money, be in demand.

I learned early on that traveling alone means not having to compromise, but you’re alone. Sitting in airport lounges - even VIP ones - is comfortable, but even in a crowded room, or especially in a crowded room, you become aware of how alone you are.

I’ve always found other people to be energizing. For me, this is strangely true of my meetings with people I hardly know, where there are no obligations, no ruts, no expectations. There’s only upside. It’s easier to be “friends” with people we have no personal involvement (or entanglements) with.

In business or in private, sometimes it’s with the people we know best that we feel most alone.

This was an intense one. My brother-in-law’s family business is at risk of failing - leaving the principals feeling guilty, and their interests out of alignment. My niece moved out on her husband, and she and her son are living back at home. My mother-in-law was inexplicably taken off her meds, became violent, and hid her dentures in anger - she’s back on her meds now, but unfortunately, we can’t find the dentures.

So, we invited everyone to spend Christmas at our house to break up the routine and get a fresh perspective on it all. This is a hard drinking bunch - but this time we set a record. We went through two fifths plus a flask of scotch, more than a case of wine, countless bottles of beer, and lots more. Seems like everyone had something they were trying not to feel.

Late nights in the hot tub, and singing and playing guitar by the campfire were unforgettable. The last night, we told the unvarnished truth to our niece about the aspersions being cast her way. Hard stuff, but important. So, holiday cheer became a holiday intervention. Hope it works.

Three women in their 40s and 50s came together to start a new business last year. In the course of a single year, all three of our fathers have been in the hospital, a daughter was beaten by classmates and went to the emergency room, we’ve suffered asthma and allergies and arthritis, we had surgery, our parents caused car accidents and have had bouts of disorientation and depression. We’ve each had sleepless nights as we’ve dealt with the stresses and strains of the risks we’ve taken and responsibilities we bear.

Taking care of ourselves has to be a priority - but it doesn’t come naturally. How do we learn to do that?

What a shame. The talent behind this film could have done a great service to audiences everywhere by exposing the similarities and connections between Charlie’s war and GW’s.

Afganistan bankrupted the Soviet Union. Now, it’s bankrupting the USA. We succeeded in helping defeat the Soviet Union but failed to fund school rebuilding and other investments that would have stabilized the economy. So, now we’re losing a war that’s the logical consequence of our failure to win the peace back then.

Instead of giving us something to think about, this movie is a puff piece that stops short of asking the hard questions. Too bad. I expected more of Mike Nichols and crew.

A new voice. A fresh perspective. An outlet for strongly-held, and newly-formed opinions. I hope this blog is all of the above.

This is not a place for facts and figures. Rather, it’s about impressions - first, last, fleeting, and lasting.

Come along with me and we’ll see what develops.