Jo Cribb is uncomfortable with women's leadership awards that are only for some women. She explains why.
Tis the season for awards. Over the past weeks, Queen's Honours were announced, the black ties were out for Kea, and the Women of Influence Awards have just opened.
I need to declare my hand. Last week I celebrated along with 200 others, being a finalist in the Women in Governance Awards.
It was a great night, a room full of like-minded women and their supporters, all leaders making an impact on New Zealand’s governance community. There was celebration and networking and business got done.
But I feel a growing unease about awards, especially those targeted to women.
Bear with me as I pick at my unease.
Is it a learned distaste for putting my head above the pulpit, and putting myself for nomination disregarding all I have been taught about modesty, humility and kumara not talking about their sweetness?
Maybe.
I think it is more likely because I shudder at the thought of being judged by a panel wielding opaque criteria; my hard-fought achievements pitted up against other women’s.
There are a lot of advantages to putting yourself up for an award: being nominated brings credibility (winning even more so), pausing to document your achievements is a good thing as we rush about chasing the next goal, and the awards ceremonies can be fun (or tedious, there is usually no middle ground in my experience).
You will get great exposure, which can add to your profile, meaning you might get opportunities to do even more great work.
The rationale behind women in leadership awards is sound. It is about redefining leadership. Traditionally men assumed most leadership positions and that is who many of us still default to when we think of leaders.
It’s about profiling women leaders who may not otherwise get the sunlight they deserve and inspiring other women to step up.
But I still have questions.
These awards are mainly based on a very narrow view of leadership, usually tagged to a corporate or paid role. For me, the single mum who has raised three fantastic children working tirelessly to do so is a leader who leaves an important inter-generational legacy, but there is not a category for her.
Or what about the woman who sewed the sequins onto our award night dresses or who will clean up after us? She is unlikely to ever be presented a trophy for her hard work even though it enables so much for so many.
Maybe they should be called Some Women in Leadership Awards.
Then I start to add up all the sponsorship dollars and ticket prices. These fancy events do not come cheap. Can we still justify the expense when the charities who support women scramble to make ends meet?
I also question whether these awards achieve the impact they seek.
If it is about women being inspired to take on leadership roles and ending discrimination against women leaders, they haven’t delivered on their ROI. The numbers of women in the boardrooms and at the CE desks of our largest companies are not increasing at any rate we can be proud of.
But, I feel a disloyalty in questioning women’s awards.
So many hours are invested in applications, in the hope of a nomination, so many opportunities unlocked by winning, and so many inspiring stories of struggle, resilience and courage are shared.
So much good intent.
So my challenge to award organisers is to ensure this good intent translates into impact.
Rather than an obsession with one winner, could you instead profile as many women as much as possible? Could you focus on women who don’t have a public profile already?
Rather than a trophy, could you arrange appointment to boardrooms and sponsorship into senior roles?
Could you even dial back the fancy table decorations and donate that to organisations that support women? Or make the ticket prices more accessible?
But not those dessert platters, please just leave them there. Those mini lemon meringue pies will always be the supreme winners on the night.
