100 days ago I had a coffee with Anna Guenther and asked her to be a mentor for this wee mentoring programme I was setting up...
I’d knocked a website together, approached a couple of trustees, and was sounding out wonderful women I knew about whether they have time, energy and inclination to be mentors.
I mentioned that I was hoping to get ten or so applicants to run a pilot and see how it went.
She raised a sceptical eyebrow before observing, “I think you’ll get more than that.”
Of course she was right. Because she’s Anna. But also because the drivers that had led me to form Cultivate were as relevant as my gut told me.
My experiences of being a woman at work were shared by many many women.
When we parted ways she asked what more she could do. “Can I tweet about it?”. “Of course!”
She did. And the applications flooded in – nearly 100 of them. For the next two-months women wrote to us about their vulnerability and insecurity, their aspirations and frustrations.
And women started approaching us, offering to be mentors, to run seminars, inviting us to events, and just being all-round supportive of what we are trying to do.
The past 100 days has been an extraordinary journey. Here’s what I’ve learnt.
1. Beginning is everything
I’m an ideas kid. Always have been. But I also have long history of being crippled by ridiculously high expectations of myself, and the fear that my ability to execute won’t live up to my vision.
But when Anna asked if she could tweet about Cultivate I had to commit. Right then. And I did, and it was brilliant. As soon as Cultivate was out in the world the adrenalin kicked in – I have no choice now but to make this amazing.
To all the chronic perfectionists with big ideas – just begin.
2. We are more alike than different
As the applications started coming in I poured over every word, empathising with the authors about their lack of confidence; their stalled development; their stress about balancing family life.
I saw the same words time and again. “I’m having a confidence crisis.” “My voice isn’t heard.” “I don’t know how to take the next step up.” “I get left out.” “I’m letting everyone down.”
But one application has sat heaviest in my heart. Application #8 talked about all of these things, then concluded: “I worry I’m not worthy enough, that people won’t like me or what I have to say, or the way in which I do it. I worry that I will disappoint.”
These words express the underlying sentiment in almost every application. Women want to feel valid. And they want to be valued.
And these words were written by a woman I was about to approach to be a mentor. A woman with multiple successes, who I have admired for a long time – who I was almost too afraid to email, such is her brilliance!
Our struggle is universal, and this is why Cultivate.
3. The sisterhood is real
I am terrible at asking for help. T.E.R.R.I.B.L.E. So, as the tsunami of applications rolled in, the prospect of having to ask dozens of women to be mentors became increasingly terrifying. What if they say no?
Of course the minute I started asking that panic melted away. People want to help. Anna said yes. Tash said yes. Kristen said yes. And the women who said no offered to help in other ways.
Women are wonderful. We are a sisterhood.
4. Women are ready for the fight
In the past fortnight we’ve started introducing women to their Cultivate mentors. I was unprepared for the gratitude and the passion for this opportunity. The many thank-you emails have all reflected a deep desire for personal growth.
Women want to take control of their work lives. They want to be happy at work. They want to succeed.
And we want to enable them to fight for better work, better pay, better opportunities, better treatment.
Early and mid career women especially shouldn’t have to wait until they are in line for a management or a governance role to be helped up. They should be supported at every step on the journey to building a meaningful and enriching career.
Cultivate is about helping individuals navigate a broken system, and our applicants are ready for the fight.
5. I am vulnerable
But the most confronting of the first 100 days was day 71 – our official launch.
I began with a mihi whakatau, then acknowledged my white-cis-hetero-middle class-educated privilege, before sharing the personal experiences that had shaped my thoughts and feelings about women in work.
And it was one of the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I’d written about some of these things in the past. But I’d never so publicly spoken about them. And it’s only in the course of my Cultivate journey that I have verbalised for the first time, initially to a handful of women and then to that room, that I was sexually assaulted at work as a 20-year-old.
My hands shook, I mashed my words, and I became hyper-conscious of the sweat forming all over my face. Despite years of calm and collected public speaking, I was a mess. I was terrifyingly vulnerable.
I’ve realised in the past 100 days that I haven’t checked all my baggage.
In fact, perhaps it’s a wound that’s opening more as I korero with more women about our shared experiences. And maybe I’ll become more vulnerable as my daughters get older, and I feel their struggles and frustrations right in the deepest part of my chest like only a mother can.
But, I am grateful to have this opportunity to uncover my strengths alongside a wonderfully diverse, driven group of women.
E iti noa ana, nā te aroha.
I’d knocked a website together, approached a couple of trustees, and was sounding out wonderful women I knew about whether they have time, energy and inclination to be mentors.
I mentioned that I was hoping to get ten or so applicants to run a pilot and see how it went.
She raised a sceptical eyebrow before observing, “I think you’ll get more than that.”
Of course she was right. Because she’s Anna. But also because the drivers that had led me to form Cultivate were as relevant as my gut told me.
My experiences of being a woman at work were shared by many many women.
When we parted ways she asked what more she could do. “Can I tweet about it?”. “Of course!”
She did. And the applications flooded in – nearly 100 of them. For the next two-months women wrote to us about their vulnerability and insecurity, their aspirations and frustrations.
And women started approaching us, offering to be mentors, to run seminars, inviting us to events, and just being all-round supportive of what we are trying to do.
The past 100 days has been an extraordinary journey. Here’s what I’ve learnt.
1. Beginning is everything
I’m an ideas kid. Always have been. But I also have long history of being crippled by ridiculously high expectations of myself, and the fear that my ability to execute won’t live up to my vision.
But when Anna asked if she could tweet about Cultivate I had to commit. Right then. And I did, and it was brilliant. As soon as Cultivate was out in the world the adrenalin kicked in – I have no choice now but to make this amazing.
To all the chronic perfectionists with big ideas – just begin.
2. We are more alike than different
As the applications started coming in I poured over every word, empathising with the authors about their lack of confidence; their stalled development; their stress about balancing family life.
I saw the same words time and again. “I’m having a confidence crisis.” “My voice isn’t heard.” “I don’t know how to take the next step up.” “I get left out.” “I’m letting everyone down.”
But one application has sat heaviest in my heart. Application #8 talked about all of these things, then concluded: “I worry I’m not worthy enough, that people won’t like me or what I have to say, or the way in which I do it. I worry that I will disappoint.”
These words express the underlying sentiment in almost every application. Women want to feel valid. And they want to be valued.
And these words were written by a woman I was about to approach to be a mentor. A woman with multiple successes, who I have admired for a long time – who I was almost too afraid to email, such is her brilliance!
Our struggle is universal, and this is why Cultivate.
3. The sisterhood is real
I am terrible at asking for help. T.E.R.R.I.B.L.E. So, as the tsunami of applications rolled in, the prospect of having to ask dozens of women to be mentors became increasingly terrifying. What if they say no?
Of course the minute I started asking that panic melted away. People want to help. Anna said yes. Tash said yes. Kristen said yes. And the women who said no offered to help in other ways.
Women are wonderful. We are a sisterhood.
4. Women are ready for the fight
In the past fortnight we’ve started introducing women to their Cultivate mentors. I was unprepared for the gratitude and the passion for this opportunity. The many thank-you emails have all reflected a deep desire for personal growth.
Women want to take control of their work lives. They want to be happy at work. They want to succeed.
And we want to enable them to fight for better work, better pay, better opportunities, better treatment.
Early and mid career women especially shouldn’t have to wait until they are in line for a management or a governance role to be helped up. They should be supported at every step on the journey to building a meaningful and enriching career.
Cultivate is about helping individuals navigate a broken system, and our applicants are ready for the fight.
5. I am vulnerable
But the most confronting of the first 100 days was day 71 – our official launch.
I began with a mihi whakatau, then acknowledged my white-cis-hetero-middle class-educated privilege, before sharing the personal experiences that had shaped my thoughts and feelings about women in work.
And it was one of the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I’d written about some of these things in the past. But I’d never so publicly spoken about them. And it’s only in the course of my Cultivate journey that I have verbalised for the first time, initially to a handful of women and then to that room, that I was sexually assaulted at work as a 20-year-old.
My hands shook, I mashed my words, and I became hyper-conscious of the sweat forming all over my face. Despite years of calm and collected public speaking, I was a mess. I was terrifyingly vulnerable.
I’ve realised in the past 100 days that I haven’t checked all my baggage.
In fact, perhaps it’s a wound that’s opening more as I korero with more women about our shared experiences. And maybe I’ll become more vulnerable as my daughters get older, and I feel their struggles and frustrations right in the deepest part of my chest like only a mother can.
But, I am grateful to have this opportunity to uncover my strengths alongside a wonderfully diverse, driven group of women.
E iti noa ana, nā te aroha.