As a hiring manager, you have two resumes sitting on top of your desk. Both applicants have glowing educational backgrounds which go as far as obtaining an MBA in a relevant field, high GPAs and years filled with solid and impressive professional experience. They are both members of local business societies and have hundreds of meaningful connections.
The only difference between these two applicants is the type of suit they wear to their interview: one is adorned in a tie, the other in a skirt.
In the past, I have prided myself on being a truly modern woman. I busted my ass through undergraduate school, worked in the male-dominant field of lending for years (where I outsold the guys right out of their pants), and obtained my MBA solely for the purpose of following my passion of working in a different field: health and wellness.
Fast forward into my early 30’s, when I was expecting my first son. I was laid-off from a home loans company right as I entered my third trimester. This was months of enduring sexist remarks and unfair treatment from senior management who congratulated me on my pregnancy with a 33% cut in pay. True story (side note: I sued this company and won, but was never able to collect because the company was no longer around).
I stayed at home with dear nugget for one year as I finished school and found a marketing job in my new field. I was offered a position that I was more than qualified for, but I graciously accepted it and decided to rock my skills and make an impact. After my first year on the job, I asked for a promotion, which I am due, but immediately denied.
I am paid far less than any one else at my company (including the sales people, who are also awarded handsome commission checks) and I have one of the most impressive resumes on staff. Funny thing, they know I am pregnant and not able to find a new job now, or in the near future. I am pretty much stuck, so why should they pay me more money? Ethics, shmethics. Hard work pays off… so I was told (and now, I bite my tongue.)
I was just telling my husband that if he had my resume, he’d be making twice as much money as I am. He shrugged and offered a sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” In the past, he would have argued with me and said it wasn’t true, but he can see the glass-paned ceiling just as clearly as I can.