Where do you sit?
The great writer and journalist Joan Didion passed away just a few weeks ago at the age of 87. I’ve written before about the genuine wisdom of older women, women of a certain generation, their bravery, their feisty sensibility, but Didion’s approach to work offered up a different, more subtle truth about our jobs, and how we do them.
Photo credit: NYTimes
In the late 1950s - early 1960s, when Didion was first starting out, most women who longed to be reporters found themselves competing (way too often) with too many male reporters of a certain gruff stereotype: brash, pushy, swaggering investigative journalists who secretly fancied themselves fearless wartime correspondents a la Ernest Hemingway. Didion was, in her own words, the opposite of that. Barely five feet tall, wearing a pageboy haircut and sensible leggings, she was an admitted wallflower, nervous and shy and constantly hugging the edges of every room she was forced to step inside. That was a serious disadvantage, male colleagues yelled: You’ll never get anywhere if you stay on the sidelines.
But in Didion’s case, the sidelines were an excellent vantage point. Her diminutive size proved to be a crucial asset. People simply forgot she was watching. In this way, she pioneered a new form of journalism based on close and patient observation, seeing larger patterns where other reporters only saw what was directly in front of their noses.
Not everyone can stand front and center. Not everyone covets the spotlight. Certain personality types really thrive on the margins, weighing and assessing from a distance. In a room full of alphas, they’re fine ceding attention and finding a comfortable shadow to work in. They can be just as powerful not standing center stage. They can amaze from the sidelines.
I think of that Times article a few years ago during the “Lean In” movement opining that it was not on women to lean in, but rather, the author said, it was time for men to lean out. In addition to making room for women, they might learn how to play the wall, reflect, consider, and even occasionally (gasp!) apologize for hogging the attention and cede some of the spotlight.
It dovetails nicely with Didion’s approach. Many could have dismissed her “marvelous observation” as shyness or being timid, but the reality is she was using her thoughtful intuition, following the breadcrumbs as they came, developing relationships that others didn’t develop, and in the end, she was able to capture stories in a new way, stories that needed to be told.
Many women in particular (but of course not only women) talk to me about not wanting to be front and center. Their preferences are different. Undoubtedly, Didion’s spot on the sidelines resulted from a combination of her preferences, and what was available to her in an unapologetic, male-dominated time. Today, while numerous industries remain male-dominated, women have many more opportunities to earn and enjoy seats of all kinds – even front and center.
Still, not everyone wants the spotlight. Instead they actively choose to do something out of attention’s glare. That doesn’t mean working less hard, or fewer hours, or producing less impact. There are more seats available than just the one at the head of the table. And the person sitting at the head of the table isn’t always (or ever?) the most important, just the one who gets most notice. So take a page from Didion: Find your pioneering spot, whether at the head or on the periphery.
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