Chanda Kochhar's 'moving' letter to her daughter was disappointing
Last week, Chanda Kochhar's letter to her daughter was trending on social media, and I read it eagerly. I wanted to glean learnings for my daughter; I was writing a similar note for her, a sort of going away gift, as she prepares to leave home for college.
A set of "Mommyisms" that she could refer to, if ever she wanted, since I will no longer be by her side - constantly, nagging, demanding and then nagging some more. I thought Chanda Kochhar would have insights and strategies. In a male-dominated society, in a corporate world largely driven by men and their perceptions of women and their roles, she has shattered the glass ceiling, corrected expectations and created aspirations for young women on the threshold of their careers.
I was disappointed with Chanda Kochhar's letter. It was an excellent letter, written by a superwoman and full of positivity and platitudes. In real life however, I see no superwomen, only extraordinary women; rather, I witness ordinary women become extraordinary through pain, grit and hard work.
Through my personal experience, and those of my friends and colleagues, I know that even if my daughter is smart and will marry a supportive husband, so much more has to fall into place for her to become a successful career woman.
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| Will you wear your mommy badge with pride or will you underplay your problems at home? |
Instead of a letter that showcased Chanda Kochhar's perfect life, I had hoped for a letter that would tell my daughter -
* That even if your parents support you, the societal pressure to conform, to be a "good girl", to be married at a reasonable age is incredible. Even if you are as educated as your husband-to-be, your parents will be the humble ones at the wedding, and will spend lavishly on the ceremonies. If you are lucky, the guy's family will be decent, will not present a large guest list and may also want to do one joint function where all expenses are shared equally. And it is almost certain that you will fume and simmer because you hate what social pressure makes your parents do!
* That even if you are super smart and get the best job on campus, you need a strategy for the workplace. Will you be you or will you play down your smartness because it makes others uncomfortable? Will you speak up in a workshop and make sure you are heard, or will you shy away from expressing your opinion?
How will you react to sexist comments, or to the boys' groups that hang out after work and exchange gossip and information over beers? How will you handle a sexual pass? Will you report it or will you suffer in silence because it is so subtle? What will you make of the "the blue-eyed girl" tag simply because others think the boss favours you because of your gender? Who will your mentors be?
* When you decide to have a baby, how will you cope with the longing to be at two places at one time? How will you overcome the feeling that perhaps your male colleagues may get better projects because your commitment to the job becomes questionable? What if you come back from your maternity leave and find that your peers have been promoted and your role reduced?
Will you wear your mommy badge with pride or will you underplay your problems at home? Will you feel disheartened and want to drop off the career path? Will you negotiate a flexible schedule or better working hours for yourself that in no way reduce your compensation or place in the hierarchy? Who will you turn to for help?
As a working mom, the pressures on the job and the demands at home will be even more pressing. So I want a letter that lays out the concerns.
* How will you manage both? Even if you are lucky that your mother-in-law will help in taking care of your kids, there are many unspoken contractual obligations. Will you let her have her way with your kids? Are you willing to listen to some criticism - that does not of course sound like criticism when your own mother says it?
Will you take her for a holiday with you or will you consider it your own time with your husband and kids? Are you happy to stay in a joint family system, or would you rather stay nuclear and hire help? In which case, will you install cameras to keep an eye on the maid, will you ensure that there is always enough food in the house so the maid is not tempted to eat the children's share? What will you do to ensure there is no child abuse?
And who will do the grocery shopping and who will ensure that all meals are nutritious and healthy? Who will take kids shopping for supplies? Who will get up at night to ensure that the kids have not kicked off the covers or wet their bed? Who will make the morning cup of tea? Who will read to kids at night? Who will manage the finances and investments? And will it be my money and yours, or a combined pool?
I want a letter that will tell my daughter how difficult it is to be a mom, and a working one on that. So she must know -
* How do you handle the emotional trauma when you can't be there for your children? Of the nights when you look at them sleeping and wondering if this was all worth it? When you wonder if you are doing this for yourself or for the family? When you worry if there is an element of selfishness in pursuing a career? When you question if you are being a good mom and if your kids will grow up just fine?
What of the hurt when children snap back that you are never there or when they try to play up your guilt to get something? Or when they tell you that you are not required for an event? What if one of them has a social or academic problem? Will you take the blame squarely on yourself?
And how will you take care of yourself through it all and find outlets for your anxiety? Through exercise, a massage or a manicure and pedicure? Will you get drunk on a girl's night out? Take frequent holidays? Or have an affair or confide in someone who does not judge? Who will be your go-to persons?
When I read about successful women, I want them to tell me all these things. I want an honest letter. So that in turn, I can reiterate to my daughter that there are no perfect, superhuman women - those who never get angry, whose houses are impeccably run, who don't have relationship or money woes and who balance both work and family with complete ease. There is seldom a woman who does not have bad hair or PMS days, or body issues and who has no insecurities.
I want my daughter to know that all successful women face the same choices and dilemmas. All the successful women I know have cried, raved, ranted and been upset about things. They have had sleepless nights and puffy eyes, have binged on food or TV shows to seek balance. They have leaned in to provide support and they have been political in scuttling a project or promotion.
They have worried about their jobs, careers, money, children, husbands, parents and in-laws. They have adjusted and compromised - sometimes against their free will. They have taken criticism and gender slurs in their stride; they are proud of the appreciation and applause.
I want my daughter to know that she will succeed. She will be a proud mother, wife and working woman and each role will be demanding and equally important to her growth and well being. She will be extraordinary - proud of her accomplishments and equally honest about her shortcomings. She has the potential to be extraordinary because in her success, she will carry the aspirations of other young girls who will want to emulate her.
All I want is a letter from an extraordinary woman, not a superhuman one, which will instil that faith in her.