The Uneven Playing Field - Part II: Banter, team bonding or power play on display?
Corporate America
It is Tuesday morning, you wake up groggy. You checked into the hotel just a few hours earlier and your bio-clock is still in a different timezone. You make your best effort to look fresh and arrive at the offsite meeting place early enough so you can assess the room and seating situation before everyone claims their space. But you are not too early to beat the local attendees (or those who don’t mind trading their weekend with business travel pleasures). The conversation peppered with laughters can be heard in the hallway before you reach the room.
“That home run at the end of the 9th inning was just unbelievable!” Joe is a big guy, and his voice is even bigger than his 6’3” and 200+ lb. physical presence.
“Nah, I was already in bed!” Bill sounds sheepish.
“Ah, you had another drink after I left the bar, didn’t you? Or was it more than one?” Joe’s tone turns playfully interrogating. “You know you can’t handle the good stuff without me!”
“Hey, Big Joe can handle his drinks no matter how late it is and still manages to beat us to the meeting in the morning. That’s a special talent!” Bob now joins the game, who never misses a chance to shoot some “friendly fire” at Joe.
Half of the room joins the laugh and the topic swiftly changes to the football game from last week, without skipping a beat. By then you manage to find a corner that offers a bit of comfortable distance from the center of that bantering.
Have you been in that room? Spend a few years in Corporate management, you’d agree that the more leadership offsite meetings you attend, the more familiar this scene becomes.
The bantering usually starts with whatever ball game was on last night, elaborated with the team's and players' past glory. The conversation would inevitably turn into a memory test of sorts, from play-by-play recount to scores from the past, recited by heart. Occasionally alcohol spiced anecdotes turn deprecation into mild insults.
I was never good at any kind of sports nor was I good at hurling deprecation. But I thought I could learn this. It could be fun. It was said how team bonding works. I ventured into it armed with my pathetic knowledge of college football, which I collected simply by having lived in Lincoln Nebraska, home of the Cornhuskers, for 8 years. It became obvious within minutes that I overestimated myself. It became obvious just as quickly that bantering was meant to be conducted within a small circle. A circle of people on the higher end of the room’s power spectrum. A circle of men.
For those of us who were neither sports fanatics nor finding another round at the bar after dinner with drinks amusing, we couldn’t help but feel a bit shut out. It was deflating when we realize these insider jokes were meant to showcase the bond of brotherhood, of a shared history.
That’s when it stopped being fun, and I (together with most woman participants) decided to remain outside of that circle and just be an observer.
Looking back, this was the first situation in the corporate culture where I felt I did not belong. I see my younger self, avoiding the “hot seats”, leaning back in the chair, arms crossed. I want to whisper in her ears, “You think this is beneath you. That’s okay. You think there is little chance this could change. That may be true. But by quietly sitting back and smiling, nothing will ever change.”
Maestro T is an up-and-coming music director of a major symphony orchestra in the country. He has led the classical music scene in transforming the centuries-old music tradition into something that is more in tune with modern-day life. His popularity and power have both gone up in the performing art circle, albeit not without a reputation of occasionally being viewed as eccentric. Some of his choice of program and performing ideas have raised quite a few eyebrows even among his own orchestra members.
It is the dress rehearsal, the last practice session before the world premiere of the orchestra-commissioned new work. Ta Ta Ta Maestro T strikes his baton on the music stand in front of him, "Stop! I have a new idea - I want to conduct from the back of the hall, off stage,” he is excited by his own idea, runs down the stage steps and towards the back of the hall, leaving the orchestra bewildered by his idea. “Okay, everyone! Let’s start from the beginning!” Maestro T is now yelling from the shadow at the back. There is a stir on the stage: this is obviously not well received by the musicians. Reluctantly everyone is in position and ready to start. Then, a soft voice comes from the cello section. “Michael, could you please come back on stage? I can’t see you.” This is Linda, a soft-spoken and very well-respected member of the orchestra."If I can’t see you, then I can’t play, especially since this is the premiere of a brand-new piece. I am not comfortable playing with you being so far away from us.” Linda’s voice was gentle and sincere, but she does not leave any room for interpretation of her request - she is not going to go along with an idea that makes her uncomfortable. “Oh? I am sorry Linda! Okay I will come back.” Maestro T sounds apologetic. He walks back and climbs on to the stage. The entire orchestra exhales a sigh of relief.
When we sense something wrong, when we feel uncomfortable, let it be known. We do that respectfully, with kindness, and insistently.
When we feel our energy is being dragged down to a place we never want to be, then it’s time to exit with our heads held high, with a smile.