silence me. The groups we belong to, the relationships we cultivate, the careers we work hard to achieve, the bosses we aim to please, the employees we hope will love us, and the customers that are always at the back of our brains can swiftly and effortlessly take our good intentions and suppress us. It is hardly a conscious move and something we rarely see coming. But it happens.
My experience with voice and silence is tangled within that twenty-year career of navigating a leadership role within the complexity of systems, relationships, and a desire to understand self. In 2011, I began my own consulting and coaching business. It was here that I paused and looked back at myself and the systems that raised me. I also reflected on the clients that I have coached and their systems. I thought about the women in my life who spoke with passion, clarity, and purpose. I also thought about the women who had it in them, but the words never surfaced. I wondered about the language women use that inspire both genders to lean in and follow. I pondered the words we hear that make us disengage and reconsider our willingness to support. I was swimming in a lot of mystery and inquiry of voice and silence—but I was mostly thwarted by what I perceived was prevalent female silencing—my own and those around me.
However, this is not my story. I had to examine myself first before I could study the silenced female leader. I had to consider my own voice box, eye color, belly button, feet, thoughts, and style of leadership. I believe this journey to understand self never entirely ends, but at times it deserves greater energy and attention. It is said that when studying phenomena in social sciences, you have to do the “mesearch” before you engage in the research. We are always the main characters in the story of our lives, and sometimes we have lengthy monologues, other times we quietly stand as others tell their story, and then there are those long pregnant pauses between lines as we move across the stage in a dance of pain and uncertainty.
I have interviewed dozens of women. They are black, brown, and white. On average, they are over the age of forty, and they represent over twenty different industries. They are directors, physicians, educators, vice presidents, and CEOs. Most are graduate prepared, and many hold doctorate degrees. From law firms to classrooms to boardrooms, these women are leading and trailblazing in ways that I admire and respect. I have not walked the same path, but as women, we are woven together in similar stories. They are survivors of silencing and have fought (and at times still fight) a vicious psychological virus. They pioneer, innovate, aspire, and propel forward despite all the obstacles they encounter. They create a mural of voice and silence and shed light on the insidiousness of silencing that the following chapters will soon highlight.
I am also keenly aware that I stand on the shoulders of remarkable women who have researched and studied women’s issues. People like Susan Cain and her work on introversion describing the ones who prefer listening to speaking or Sheryl Sandberg, who artfully examined women’s progress in achieving leadership roles. Amy Cuddy encourages us to bring our boldest self to our most significant challenges. Brené Brown’s work on vulnerability is profound. There are other scholars who I have read and come to know like Cheryl Glenn who writes about the rhetoric of silence, Carol Mitchell whose book is about breaking through “bitch,” and Deborah Tannen who was dynamic with her work on how the language of everyday conversation affects relationships. These are just a sample of women who have provided footpaths or highways into the complicated aspects of women in leadership. I stand humbly amid these giants as I bring you my nuanced findings of female leader silencing.
Silence is rarely the absence of words, and silencing can be a psychological form of violence to a person who desires to speak. We are individually and creatively woven together as human beings, and the ability to exercise choice in our actions and communication is the highest form of intelligence. When we hold leadership roles—a public position regardless of level, company, or industry—we are wired to speak with a megaphone. It is almost as if leaders are wired with their own internal Bluetooth system that automatically connects to microphones in every conference room or conversation to carry their sound or their lack. Given this, a leader’s silences, words, gestures, and language are amplified whether they want them to be or not. They need to be conscious of the difference between silence and silencing, voice and valuable voice, and whether they are just being heard or effectively heard. These are all distinctions this book unpacks in ways that will challenge your thinking about your own communication.
In addition, we can be physically, emotionally, cognitively, and spiritually compromised when we are silenced. This compromise comes in the form of a virus that if not treated, can spread and contribute to female leadership opt-outs, glass ceilings, sticky floors, glass cliffs, and any other metaphor that may describe why women are not successfully promoting into and sustaining in their leadership careers. It is dreadfully hard to be successful as a leader if you are continually feeling unwell.
The cure for this virus is not a simple vaccine or medication—it requires a level of self-regard and community that I believe (and the research will show) that few executive women are successfully creating. Recovering from feeling silenced does not happen by accident. It occurs when female leaders earnestly shift their behaviors with the help of both men and women. So, for the men who have picked up this book by accident or by choice—please keep reading. You are not the villain in this story. You are part of the healing, and your partnership with your female colleagues will help create the needed change. It’s an act of courage to be a leader, and it is a higher act to be a generous one.
For women in leadership, this book is for you whether you have experienced a form of silencing or not. If you have not, I am relieved on your behalf, but realize you may be in the minority. The majority of women are wrestling with some form of silencing and the struggle does not necessarily show. For emerging leaders who want to mitigate what is sure to be a future of many encounters that could potentially silence you, Bravo! By reading this book, you are creating a form of self-care that will help you notice and recover when that silencing begins.
As a society, we have become too quick with naming fast solutions, strategies, techniques, and tips. We love simple lists, but there are no shortcuts highlighted here. This book is about the silenced and the path to recover and lead with a valuable voice. Sometimes we have to understand the darkness before we can fully appreciate the light. This book explores them both along with the journey in between.
Chapter 1
How Silence Is a Hiatus or a Scream
(and everything in between)
I sit in a chair outside her office exchanging small talk with her executive assistant. It has been challenging to get on her calendar, and I know I am one of several people she will meet with today, back to back, with no breaks in between. She has people in her office now, and I can hear them talking fast as they wrap up a meeting that has run over. I feel my pulse quicken as her door opens, and two colleagues shuffle out still in the middle of their conversation. I smile and return her welcome as I ask myself, Is she too busy to shift gears and spend the next ninety minutes with me? And how much will she share?
Her office is warm, and her furniture is cluttered with books, mementos, and personal items that suggest she has worked here for many years with a collection of experiences and memories worthy of display. Her life is documented in the photos, certificates, and diplomas framed on the walls. She is a physician turned executive and has more education and credentials than most. As I begin the interview with the click of my recorder, she responds as I expect of any c-suite leader, with a clear and concise review of her background. As my questions pivot to those that probe into her experience of feeling silenced—I sense a subtle but guttural shift in her expression, posture, and being that widens and deepens over the next hour. It is almost as if she is raking the yard of her soul—I see her beauty, intelligence, pain, and exposure.
I ask her a question about what it feels like to be silenced. She looks me deep in the eyes as she says, “Feeling silenced? Carrie, it is almost like subcellular toxicity.” Her words stop, start, and get
