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Women who've made it to critical positions in the workplace have done so by sheer dint of their hard work and intelligence. You better not keep interrupting us!
Women who’ve made it to critical positions in the workplace have done so by sheer dint of their hard work and intelligence. You better not keep interrupting us!
I think I am fairly qualified
To give an opinion on the matter at hand
Yet when I present my side
Of reasoning, they seem unable to stand
The fact that I have spoken – after all, who am I
To comment on matters important
I am expected to remain submissive and shy
To refrain from an opinion even when present
As soon as I have finished, I get a smile
Followed by a condescending comment
By now I have figured out the board members’ style
My ideas for them are pure entertainment
Then one of them proceeds to explain things to me
Like I am slow of mind or an imbecile
Let me assure you, I am neither or I wouldn’t be
In this boardroom, in fact I have gone the extra mile
To be where I am, so I probably have qualifications
That exceed theirs’ – I analyze problems thoroughly too
I should not have to give any justification
In expressing exactly what I want to.
I am frankly perplexed and sometimes amused
At how men continue to disregard opinions that women present
Many do it subconsciously, though they might refuse
To acknowledge any misogyny, they support equality in sentiment
From the average workplace meeting to the presidential debate
“Manterruption” appears to be a universal male trait
Hear me out gentlemen, I have something to say
If it came from a man, this idea would be lapped up today
So lend me your time and attention valuable
I am confident of bringing new ideas to the table.
First published here.
Image via Pixabay
I am a woman, a physician, a mother and an aspiring writer rolled into one. I write about various aspects of my life, and my preferred form of writing is poetry (or rhyming verses). read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
She was sure she was dying of cancer the first time her periods came. Why did her mother not explain anything? Why did no one say anything?
Sneha still remembers the time when she had her first period.
She was returning home from school in a cycle-rickshaw in which four girls used to commute to school. When she found something sticky on the place where she was sitting, she wanted to hide it, but she would be the first girl to get down and others were bound to notice it. She was a nervous wreck.
As expected, everyone had a hearty laugh seeing her condition. She wondered what the rickshaw-wallah thought of her. Running towards her home, she told her mother about it. And then, she saw. There was blood all over. Was she suffering from some sickness? Cancer? Her maternal uncle had died of blood cancer!
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