Category: The Corner of the Court Project

“In the early stages of my career, I’ve quickly learned the importance of having a mentor, especially in the wealth management industry as both a female and a minority in a male-dominated environment.

I met Todd Norris while working for a local Registered Investors Independent Advisor as a Financial Advisor’s Client Service Assistant. Still being fairly new, we brought on Todd as a planner to support our team’s planning needs.

With both of us being new to the firm, I was helping Todd learn the ropes with operational procedures, while Todd educated me about financial planning. In the wealth management industry, it is hard to progress in your role without planning knowledge. Todd always graciously stuck out his hand to help me understand the reasoning behind certain planning tools, and why they were beneficial for the client. It is one thing for someone to “find” time in their busy schedule to help you, but it is another for them to “make” time. Every day I was sitting in a very fast-paced environment with no time to breathe. He always offered to help me with not only financial planning, but also with my own duties.

With Todd’s guidance, he added value to my experience and heightened the quality of my work.  Around the same time, we also convinced each other to take the Chartered Financial Analyst exam, one of the most prestigious designations in the industry. While Todd was already a Certified Financial Planner, his hard-working demeanor, but laid-back personality made it easy to confide in and trust him as I always felt constantly stressed with both work and my studies. He taught me the importance of work-life balance and to worry less.

While we are not currently working together, Todd has made a tremendous impact on my career and work ethic. The industry itself can be very demanding, but with someone’s praise and support, it makes the routine demand of work more enjoyable knowing I have a male ally on my side that I can reach out to when the possible seems impossible.

In the wealth management industry where female interest staggers, I believe having a male ally to help you progress to the top is one of the hidden secrets to success, and I am extremely thankful for Todd’s support as both a colleague and a friend.”

– Michelle, Client Relationship Specialist, Pinnacle Advisor Solutions
Baltimore, MD

“I first met Manuel when I started to work in Group Leche Pascual in Spain. Not many members of my team came to say hello and he was one of the first ones. That is one of the most characteristic things about him, his way of treating people. He is a very welcoming, chatty person; since the beginning, he made me feel part of the group. This was important, because it built a foundation of trust.

In the first of our “doubleheader” feature from Shelley Smith of ESPN, read about basketball Hall of Famer Jack MacCallum and his influence on Shelley and other women sportswriters.

“Jack McCallum is a writer, formerly senior writer of Sports Illustrated.

I was a new, young reporter for SI assigned to the NBA finals in the late 1980s. I was terrified. Jack, whom I had never met, took me under his wing, showed me the ropes (who to talk to and how and where and when) and, most of all, showed me how to treat people. He was the most laid-back male ally I know — Hawaiian shirts and humble. During the next few finals, he gave his courtside seat to our intern, who was younger and greener than me, which was wonderful to see.

He is a hero in the NBA world and continues to be an inspiration to me as a budding author. I’m at the 2017 Finals right now and guess who I saw? Jack McCallum. Still at it strong.”

– Shelley Smith, Bureau Reporter, ESPN
Los Angeles

This post was originally featured at The Corner of the Court  project

In this story, specially adapted from Lindsay Detwiler’s article on Huffington Post, Lindsay shares the importance of her father’s influence as a champion for gender equality.

“From the time I could speak, my dad taught me education equated to opportunity. He pushed me to be the best I could be and get good grades. Most of all, he told me to never believe in limitations others would put on me.

When the school told me taking all honors classes wasn’t wise, he encouraged me to rise to the challenge. When I was the only female trumpet player and the only student not taking private lessons, my dad encouraged me to practice on my own until I got to first chair. When math class got hard and I thought I couldn’t do it, he pushed me to keep working.

He taught me that, in many ways, failure was a mindset. I came to learn that no matter the obstacle or the critics in my way, If I set my mind to it, I could do it. Being a woman or being of a certain social class or being any classification at all was never deemed as a valid reason to back down from my goals. My dad taught me to ignore ceilings and strive for my personal version of accomplishment.

I am thankful my dad is the dad he is. We need fathers who are willing to teach their girls to ignore the limitations society tries to attach to genders. We need fathers willing to teach their girls to be tenacious and fearless in the pursuit of their dreams. We need fathers who teach girls that they can do anything and everything boys can do.

I am thankful that my dad taught me to achieve my dreams, not in spite of being a woman, and not even because I’m a woman.

He taught me to achieve my dreams simply because. Period.

Through that simple difference, I learned the strength of a woman.”

– Lindsay, Author
Hollidaysburg, PA

This featured story was adapted from Lindsay Detwiler’s article, My Dad Made Me A Strong Woman on Huffington Post.

For more women’s stories of male allies, visit The Corner of the Court Project.

“‘Would you like to go to Cornell?’

It is the question that helped shape my entire career. If you would have told me 16 years ago, when I was an undergraduate student with a 2.7 GPA, that someday I would have a Ph.D. and be a professor of sociology, I wouldn’t have believed you. No one would have. Yet, I have an incredibly fulfilling career largely because of the many formal and informal mentors who’ve helped me along the way.

This post is about one of my male mentors, a sociology professor named Dr. M. who was particularly influential early in my career, who asked the question I would never have asked myself.

My academic background as an undergraduate had been tenuous. I had majored in English Language and Literature, and my GPA made it difficult to land a job. I eventually got a job doing social work at a local domestic violence shelter; the position didn’t require a college degree, the hours were long, and the agency was underfunded. The work was exhausting and emotionally draining, and paid less than my waitressing job in college. It was a humbling and eye-opening experience.

It was a dear friend, Heather, who had suggested I go to grad school. Actually, she first suggested (with a perfectly straight face) I become a senator. I didn’t know anyone who had gotten a Ph.D. or run for public office. Yet, Heather encouraged me to think bigger. So, I took a graduate-level course in sociology at a nearby university. I loved it and it didn’t take long for me to know I wanted to become an academic sociologist. I applied to a Master of Science program in sociology and I worked hard to build my credentials and compensate for my undergraduate record. I took classes and worked on my thesis during the day and I continued doing social work full-time at night. I applied for scholarships and awards, attended conferences, and volunteered.

Everything I did during those two years was with one goal in mind. I wanted to have a competitive application when I applied to Ph.D. programs. I knew that the kind of academic job I wanted was increasingly difficult to secure and, consequently, it would be important for me to get into a top-ranked program. Dr. M. helped make that happen.

Dr. M. was influential in many ways, but two things in particular stand out. First, he agreed to chair my thesis committee, at a time when I was frustrated to find professors to take on the role. I had excelled in my graduate classes, yet I feared professors didn’t want to work with me because of my previous academic record. (I now know that faculty know little about their students’ beyond the work they do in class. Rather, the job is voluntary and time-consuming.) I had come into the program to demonstrate I could do graduate-level work and to build a network of sponsors who could write letters of recommendation for me. I needed someone to take a chance on me and Dr. M. did.

Second, when it was time to apply to Ph.D. programs, Dr. M. changed my life with a single question. I had narrowed my list down to 9 schools, all of which were reasonable places to pursue graduate work, but Cornell was not on the list. Truth be told, I thought such a place was beyond reach. Yet, Dr. M. suggested I apply to Cornell. I remember the moment clearly. He was sitting at his desk and nonchalantly asked, ‘Would you like to go to Cornell?’

I remember thinking the question was silly. Of course I’d like it, but it didn’t seem possible. Yet, he suggested that I apply in such an offhanded way, as if getting in was not the problem, but rather which school I preferred to attend.

This question set in motion a career trajectory beyond my wildest dreams. Had he not suggested Cornell, I wouldn’t have applied and I certainly wouldn’t have been accepted or graduated. I am keenly aware that academia is not a meritocratic system. Opportunities beget opportunities. Because of where I did my graduate work, I was able to learn from some of the most renowned sociologists in the world. I got to stay in graduate school—and was fully funded—for 8 years. I took on an ambitious dissertation project, which helped me land a prestigious postdoc at Stanford. The postdoc eventually led to my first academic appointment and now my current position which is, in every way, my dream job.

In retrospect, Heather and my male mentor, Dr. M., both did something similar. They were confident in my abilities and introduced me to possibilities I couldn’t imagine for myself.”

– Christin, Assistant Professor of Sociology, University of Connecticut
Storrs, CT

“I worked for my uncle Scott the summer after my freshman year of college, as his home renovation ‘apprentice’ :  a medieval word, but really there’s no better descriptor. A retired architect, Scott bought a sprawling house on the side of a ravine in Bayside, Wisconsin and committed the rest of his life to making it absolutely, painstakingly to his taste. He was — and is still — a perfectionist of the most maddening order.

My job was to do the kinds of character-building tasks you read about in fables.

One morning I showed up to his house to find six square yards of manure and a wheelbarrow in the driveway. (Imagine a four-foot tall mountain of poop filling a small bedroom.) “I’m leaving for the day,” he said, “When I return at 4pm, I want to see all that crap carefully placed into the flowerbeds down the side of the ravine. If you spill any of it along the way, I’ll know.” After precisely eight hours, he was back to criticize the twenty-five yard trail I’d inadvertently carved into his lawn. Much yard-tending ensued in my days ahead.

He had me sharpen all the pencils in the house so that when we measured and cut wood for his handcrafted window frames and baseboards, our incisions would have surgical accuracy. If he ever caught me using a blunt pencil, he’d either stuff a new one into my hand or threaten to make me clean the basement — which, despite my many efforts, never sparkled quite to his liking.

As the summer progressed, I realized that in allowing me to work on his projects, he was trusting me with his most beloved possession. His house represented his life’s work. He let me select the matting and framing for all of his artwork. He consulted my opinion on wall paint and hardware. He encouraged me to care about a project by embracing its minutia, and demanded that I raise the standards for my own work to meet his. “God is in the details,” he liked to say, though I’m pretty sure he was an atheist in everything other than home renovation. That he expected me to even come close to his level of artisan care was a high compliment — and a huge vote of confidence in me.

The most important thing he did was choose me to be his apprentice. It sounds simple. As a professional woman I can tell you it’s not. I knew that the job he expected me to do is primarily done by men. The fact that my gender never came up — not once, not even hinted at as the reason for my many, many shortcomings during my renovation learning curve — is so significant to me.

I’ve had countless bosses in the thirteen years since I worked for Scott — most of them older males, all of them a cake walk following that summer apprenticeship. Few have had such a lasting impact on my professional character. The voice of Scott’s exacting manner rings in my ears on a damn near daily basis — it motivates me to push things a little further, and to demand a little more of myself and those around me. His standards for me have since become my standards for myself. Sometimes people struggle not to judge my work through the lens of my gender. But I never question my drive or my pride in a job well done, because that’s what he taught me:  to judge my work only as a professional.

Men: you should never underestimate the influence you can have on the women you invest in,  and the positive impact of treating them as you would anyone else in the workplace. We carry your empowerment with us throughout our careers, throughout our lives. With that kind of foundation, women can just focus on doing good work. That’s as simple as it sounds.”

– Chelsea, Marketing Director
San Francisco, CA

This story was adapted from Chelsea’s article “My uncle, the unconscious feminist” on Medium

View and share this story on Facebook and at The Corner ofthe Court 

Lyla shares her story of her older brother’s influence, protecting her from an arranged marriage and encouraging her service as an active duty as a Navy Surface Warfare and Intelligence officer. She currently runs a non-profit dedicated to leadership of both women and men in the U.S. Special Operations community.

  “My family emigrated from Afghanistan to the U.S. in 1982, a few months before my third birthday. I grew up in a conservative Sunni Muslim home. When I turned 12, my father planned to take me from our home in Springfield, Virginia to Afghanistan so he could arrange my marriage to a man in his 50s.

My older brother Bashir, an enlisted U.S. Navy Corpsman in San Diego at the time, convinced my father to allow me and my mother to move in with him so I could continue my education. When my father was killed during his trip overseas, a 19-year-old Bashir legally adopted me since my mother did not speak English. In addition to working long shifts at the military hospital and making very little money as a junior enlisted sailor, he worked weekends at a civilian clinic so he could afford our spartan two-bedroom apartment. After years of us living off mainly beans and rice, he fought to get into a Bachelor’s program so he could become an officer. His commitment to taking care of me and our mother was his primary motivator to work harder and reach higher.

As an officer, he volunteered for multiple deployments to Afghanistan. I followed in his footsteps by joining the Navy but he insisted I become an officer as well. He helped me prepare for college interviews and complete my applications. He also said he would take on additional jobs in order to pay for my college education.

Thankfully, I received a Navy ROTC scholarship and graduated from Penn State in 2001. I served on active duty until 2007 as a Surface Warfare and then Intelligence officer, completing a deployment to Afghanistan as a counter-terrorism analyst. Since leaving the military, I continued to serve as a counter-insurgency analyst, instructor, and advisor.

I’m graduating in May with a Master’s from Georgetown University and will apply for Ph.D. in 2018. I’m the first woman in my family to earn a high school diploma, attend a university, join the military, and open a small business. None of these achievements would have been possible without my brother’s encouragement and support.

My brother has been my role model, my mentor, and my champion my entire life. He is, without a doubt, the most selfless man I know. He taught me to respect myself so I could demand respect from others. He’s now retired after serving 22 years and is married to a successful Naval officer. As a stay-at-home father, he makes a very conscious choice to teach his young son to respect all women (including his baby sister) and to stand up for anyone who is mistreated.

I have personally felt the effect strong male mentors and role models can make on a young woman. I recently co-founded PROMOTE, a non-profit addressing the challenges women face as aspiring leaders in a predominantly male military. We connect junior female service members with mentors — both men and women — and provide professional development education to retain talented young women. Our mission is to transform how military leaders mentor the next generation of leaders, ensuring cross-gender mentoring becomes the norm and not the exception.

As with all my life’s endeavors, my brother is my biggest champion and I know I can count on him every step of the way.”

– Lyla, Diversity & Inclusion Strategist
Washington, D.C.

This story was first published on Facebook and at The Corner of the Court Project.

Meet Erin, a woman of many “firsts” including being the first female football coach at the University of Albany, and the first in her position with the both the NFL and New York Giants.  Erin shares her inspiring story of her male champion, NY Giants and football PR superstar Pat Hanlon.

“As Vice President at RISE (Ross Initiative in Sports for Equality) and a proud member of WISE (Women in Sports and Events), the professional advancement of women is an issue close to my heart.

I have been ‘the first’ a few times in life. I was the first girl in my family; the first female to coach football at the University of Albany; and the first woman to hold my position at both the New York Giants and the National Football League. As a frequent minority, I sought allies in the majority who could offer support and direction. My father and brothers served as early guides.

Later, I was blessed to be employed by one of the best male champions in the game, New York Giants Senior Vice President of Communications Pat Hanlon.

Once dubbed the ‘Rock Star of Football PR’ by PR Week, Hanlon may seem an unlikely feminist, but he has a long history of advocating for equal rights. Husband to a former NBA executive and father to two daughters and a son, he has helped launch and guide the careers of countless young people.

While working for him I was thrilled to be considered for the same assignments as my male colleagues and held to the same high standards. When issues arose that required different perspectives — such as a player publicly comparing a bad loss to rape — he sought and valued my opinion. He modeled true leadership in times of adversity and always helped us learn from our mistakes. But what shaped me most was the way he used sports to help others. Through large and small gestures, he brightened the lives of sick children, wounded veterans and the elderly. He always goes the extra mile to pass his blessings onto others and inspired me to do the same.

Over the past 17 years, I’ve sought Hanlon’s advice on everything from switching jobs to burying my oldest brother and climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. He is one of the busiest men I know, and yet he always makes time to be there.

Behind most women in sports you’ll find a male champion. I am grateful that he is mine.”

– Erin, Vice President at RISE (Ross Initiative in Sports for Equality), New York City

To celebrate International Women’s Day, on March 8, 2017, we featured a story of a young woman entrepreneur, Allie, who spoke about her male mentor, venture capitalist Tim Draper.   Check out Allie’s story below and at The Corner of the Court Project.

“’I’m not so sure your business is scalable. But you: you’re it.’

I distinctly remember renowned venture capitalist Tim Draper’s feedback. I was 21. It was my first pitch competition. At that moment, Tim saw something in me that investors search for in their founders. It was positivity and grit.

Tim and Melissa Draper sponsor the largest collegiate pitch competition for women. Tim’s mom, sister, and wife Melissa Draper attended Smith, making my alma mater a natural fit to plant the seed of entrepreneurship as a career path for women.

Sure, my idea wasn’t a viable business. But what I learned was far more valuable: public speaking and personability, receiving constructive criticism, and networking up among business people and investors.

A year later, I worked for Smith College to market the competition I had once participated in, and scaled the number of participants by 500%. I spotted the towering man throwing his head back in a full-belly laugh as he entered the building. For a serious investor, Tim has a wildly youthful personality. I ran up to him immediately.

“I remember you!” he said. I was offered a job on the spot. Three weeks later, I was living in San Francisco, doing marketing for Tim’s entrepreneurship program Draper University.

Giving me a position at Draper University meant Tim entrusted me with the responsibility to grow and create success for his company. He believed that though I was young and relatively inexperienced, I had what it takes to figure things out.

Tim Draper fervently believes in the value of women in business for diversity of thought and return on investment, whether he’s investing in them through venture or social capital.

I am forever grateful for having Tim as a champion at the start of my professional career, and as a lifelong mentor.”

– Allie, Marketing & Partnerships, New York City