I wrote this for a project or an assignment for a cohort of business women that I joined last fall.  I liked the idea of it because we were supposed to envision what we would point out in our retirement speech as our most important accomplishment.  So I had to think, if it were a perfect ending, what would it look like for me?  Here is what I determined…

Someday, hopefully, wouldn’t-this-be-awesome Retirement Speech

When I was in high school we were asked to submit a quote to be put in the yearbook, it was 1981…Shady Side Academy in Pittsburgh.  I think mine was “split wood, not atoms”… hahah.  I didn’t grow up that far from 3Mile Island and it was very fresh in my mind then… I bring this up because one of the other popular quotes of the day, that several of my classmates chose, was from a Grateful Dead song called Casey Jones…the line went “What a long strange trip it’s been”… I feel like saying that quote right now…What a long strange trip it’s been….it fits.  But I mean that in a really good way.

Corporate America, Banking in particular has changed a good deal over the past 40 years.  In looking back, I am proud to have been a part of not only the spirit of this change, but the actual “rolling-of-the-stone-up-the-hill” part of this change.  When I started my career, women could be only so successful.  Same with African Americans.  LBGQ people really had to hide their identity altogether, literally.  It was so uncomfortable for me in some very basic ways.  I remember standing in heels in a bathroom stall for example, half undressed pumping breastmilk. I hoped what I brought home for my baby was clean enough.  It was either this or be thrown onto what was known as the “mommy track” for women who “chose” to stay home with their children. For God’s sake, what choice? I was choosing not to raise my children in poverty. As a woman then, I was expected to do it all: “bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan” and the best line of that popular jingle – “and never, ever let you forget you’re a man”…  All this for typically half the salary of my male counterparts.

Feelings of frustration, anger and hopelessness visited me often as I tried to fit myself into the “system”, which I did, willfully and successfully.  But, oh my, the gymnastics and contortion of my inner being and sensibilities.  My goal was to work hard and make a meaningful contribution to my company, my customers, community and my family’s success.  In order to do that, it was imperative that I block out, disregard, and ignore the sexist, racist and prejudice reality of the “system” that at the time didn’t treat me like I belonged. I did this with vigor though, I think you would agree.  And it wasn’t an overtly malicious “system” for me, of how we were all to fit together, more just a matter of fact.  It wasn’t just men who perpetrated inequality either, many women were hell-bent on maintaining this status quo too.  Maybe people just show a natural contempt for what they don’t know.  I’m not sure.

Something happened along the way as I determined to march forward without fear and resignation to “my place” in the culture.  I think it was the entrance of scores of young and superbly educated women and men from every race and corner of the planet that came in behind me (most of them raised by women like me).  They demanded that different not mean less-than and together we pushed hard.  Not to take from others already embedded in corporate America but to add to the idea-generation and to disrupt paradigms that did not represent our multi-cultural society, or reality for that matter.  At first it was a series of buzz words like “diversity and inclusion” or “environment and social governance”.  Not many took it seriously until others that did began to see real results.  I am grateful I worked for one of the more progressive organizations.  Over these past 10 or so years, we have seen employees become engaged, encouraged and creative, customers were attracted and profits have grown…the pie did get bigger.  I am most proud of my role in this fundamentally changed environment.  

I’ve actually envisioned my retirement speech many, many times over the years, and I would not have quoted the Grateful Dead song as I did earlier.  Rather, the quote that came to mind most often was from Butch, who was the chef at the Pilot House where I was a bus-girl in the late 1970s, it was my first job.  Butch was a flamboyant African American gay man and if he was feeling it, he was saying it, with emphasis.  Butch endured the tireless disrespect of co-workers, management and ownership, mostly for not hiding who he was.  When Butch “retired” (or quit) the Pilot House on a busy Friday night, he sashayed into the dining room and said 3 words: “Sayonara Mother Fuckers” and with that he turned and left and I never saw him again.  I will absolutely never forget that and as I mentioned, I have dreamt about doing and saying just that so very many times over the years.  But having reached this moment, I can honestly say… I am glad I did not do that.  I am grateful in fact, that I was instead instrumental in changing what was stifling for so many of us.  I am sorry that was Butch’s method of exit, but he was done not belonging.  The owners of the restaurant were baffled and at a tremendous loss of his tremendous talent as a chef.  Thankfully though, we have moved the needle, we really have.  I have experienced belonging, and I have contributed to the success of my company, my customers, my community and my family.  Now it’s time for me to say: peace out.

Wouldn’t that be cool?