A few weeks ago, I wrote a post that asked whether a female boss can manage a chauvinist. I’ve
struggled with this issue for many years, and from your replies it’s clear that other women have endured similar experiences.
More than 300 people wrote comments, and hundreds more contacted me through Twitter, LinkedIn and email. I had asked for feedback in the article but was amazed by the level of interest. From helpful advice to
shared dismay to fierce criticism (of me), there were lots of opinions on this topic.
I have now read every comment and email, and I have learned a lot from your thoughts. And while I can’t write to everyone individually, I wanted to thank you and share some of what I took from the messages.
Read more…
I don’t really enjoy working with lawyers, yet every time I start a new relationship with one I’m filled with hope. They seem impressive in their fancy suits and expensive offices. They woo me
with flattery and nice cups of tea and biscuits. I find myself thinking: These guys are cool. I’m going to work with them forever.
I brief them on what we’re looking to achieve. We meet another couple of times, we agree to move forward and then I ask for the cost estimate. But in seemingly no time at all, it turns out I’ve
run up a bill I wasn’t expecting and can’t afford to pay. Read more…
Editors’ note: Here’s one of our favorite stories from the archives, now being featured in our Smarter Living collection.
Every week, I get invited to another “must attend” business event sure to be full of important people who could affect my business. I know I should go, but it’s a chore. All too
often, I end up standing in a corner clinging to the one person I know, feeling guilty that I’m not taking advantage of the situation.
Recently, I attended a business women’s networking breakfast, held in a large warehouse near the waterfront. I marched through the door and collected my name tag to confront a roomful of 1,200 colorfully
dressed, high-energy women chattering. Everyone appeared to be having a great time, making connections.
What next? Do I know anyone here? If I stand all alone will people think I’m weird? I feel my chest tighten. Read more…
A few weeks ago, my business partner and I interviewed a candidate for a senior communications role at Posse. We met at a coffee shop and he seemed perfect: charming, smart and
passionate about our business. He’d been successful in similar roles, and he came to the interview prepared with suggestions relevant to our strategy. I was impressed.
But a couple of things bugged me. Ten minutes into the conversation his eyes swung behind our table and toward the counter. I turned to see what had caught his attention: an attractive waitress. I looked at
him quizzically — he knew I’d noticed what he was staring at but he didn’t seem to care. He smiled and gestured for my male business partner to check her out.
I couldn’t help but notice for the rest of the interview that whenever he spoke about anything serious he focused his attention on my male partner. He answered my questions well, but often with a flirtatious
smile before shifting his attention back to the male in the room — the person he obviously assumed was the boss. At the end of the meeting he held his hand out to shake mine in the dominant position
— palm facing down. By now I was fuming — I grabbed his hand from the side and we had an uncomfortable moment. Read more…
At the moment we’re deciding whether to raise a large capital round and go for growth or keep things tight and focused. Both approaches have merit, and I respect all who have offered their guidance. But
people are passionate about their opinions, and that can prove confusing.
When I started my business four years ago, I was hungry for advice. I’d never worked in technology and had no experience raising capital or building a product. I cast my net as far as I could and sought
help from people who seemed to know what they were doing.
Finding support was easy. Everyone I approached liked my idea; many wanted to be involved. I created an advisory board and handed out shares as if they were candy. I surrounded myself with impressive names,
and they all had friends they wanted me to meet. Before I knew it, I had 50 shareholders, and we were all on a sugar high. Read more…
Melanie Perkins and Cliff Obrecht have been running companies together for seven years.Credit Canva
I spent a recent night consoling an associate who had fallen out with her best friend. They tried to start a business together, and she quit her high-paying job to do it. Three months in, the friend had yet
to commit full-time and wasn’t pulling her weight. They couldn’t agree on how to split either the tasks or the ownership stakes. Tension built and eventually exploded, and the business died
before it was born. Their 15-year friendship was over.
I started my business, Posse, with my best friend, too. We’d worked together as colleagues for eight years and respected each other’s
strengths. I spoke at his wedding and trusted him completely, and we were, indeed, close. He was the first person I called when I came up with the concept, and he appeared enthusiastic.
But a few months in, he announced that he was starting another company, one that wouldn’t interfere with Posse. Soon after, he disappeared. Suddenly, I was running Posse full-time and solo. He did keep
his founder shares, but we no longer speak. I lost a significant chunk of the business and my best friend (which was worse). Read more…
This is the story of a trap into which I’ve fallen twice at Posse. Investors often set the trap unknowingly – no harm is intended – while they are figuring
out whether they would like to invest. Both times this happened I felt heartbroken and exhausted, with my business in turmoil. We were lucky to survive.
It all starts so well. You meet venture capitalists and deliver a knockout pitch. They love it, you exchange business cards and they set out the next steps. First, you have to meet a few other people from the
firm. They are busy so it can take a few weeks to secure the appointments, but they are genuinely interested and they ensure that you are seen as quickly as possible. You meet again for lunch, then dinner,
then drinks. You become friends.
You discuss the wondrous opportunities for your business and the ways in which they can help you reach those opportunities. Watch out: You’ve started to fall in love. Read more…
Recruiting the right team member is always difficult. I start off knowing that I need someone to perform a task, and imagine what qualities that person might possess. How, in a sea of people, can I find my ideal
candidate?
In the past, I would have posted job ads on all the appropriate websites and braced for a flood of applications. I’d spend a weekend afternoon sifting through them all, deleting three quarters and writing
follow-up emails to the rest. I always mailed a list of questions for each candidate to complete, with a deadline for their return. This enabled me to filter out at least another half who either didn’t
reply in time, wrote dud answers or couldn’t spell and didn’t pay attention to details. Finally, I’d have 10 or so interviews. Often, they would all be disappointing.
My problem was that the best candidates all had good positions and were not reading job advertisements. Somehow, I had to find these people and convince them to take a risk by joining our start-up. The only
solution seemed to be to hire a recruiter and, as a cash-strapped small business, we just couldn’t afford to shell out a recruitment fee of 20 percent of the candidate’s annual salary. Read more…
Obviously, it’s no fun to get fired. But it’s also no fun to be the one doing the firing.
I have heard it said that the stress of terminating someone’s employment can reduce your lifespan. I certainly know that I’ve awakened in a sweat the night before I have to have “the conversation”
with someone. Or worse, I have put off the conversation and let the frustration and anticipation build for months.
But no matter how bad it seems, it’s even worse for those being dismissed. The news you are about to deliver is likely to stick with your former employees forever; it will affect their sense of self worth
and confidence in moving forward with their careers. Their colleagues and friends all know that someone assessed their value to the team and found it lacking. And after the humiliation at work, they have
to go home and tell their families.
We’ve all heard the mantra “hire slow, fire fast.” As I’ve written in my previous posts, I’ve made lots of recruitment mistakes, but one thing I’ve always been good
at is knowing when to let people go. I recognize that when someone doesn’t work out, it’s my fault for hiring them, and I try to make the process as pleasant as possible. I don’t want
people running around saying what a nasty person I am, and I do feel responsible.
When entrepreneurs get together, we always seem to talk about how, if, and when to fire people. It amazes me how poorly most leaders handle the situation. They either procrastinate and hope people change (they
never do), or they let them go in a way that leaves them feeling upset and confused. Read more…
Earlier this year, I wrote about the issues I’d encountered while building an outsourced office in another country.
We’ve now expanded to a team of 14 in Manila, and we recruited everyone there using processes similar to those we use at home. I’ve worked out of the office there and have come to know each
employee. We hold regular team lunches at our Manila office, and the whole company meets once a week by video conference. As a result, I had the impression that we were building a strong company culture
across both offices.
Carlo Parungao, for example, is a big friendly guy in his early 20s who is a member of our Manila team. He researches and enters the details of all the new shops that users feed into Posse,
and at our video meeting each Monday, he reports on the previous week’s achievements with a massive smile: “Hello Miss Rebekah. This week I researched 680 new stores, 40 more than last week.”
This last Monday, however, Carlo wasn’t at the meeting. Our office manager in Manila, Jenny Muncal, told us that he was on bereavement leave for a week because his brother, who had been suffering
from leukemia, had died.
I know something about leukemia: Two years ago, a member of our team in Sydney had been stricken with it. He had spent four months in the hospital and a few more in and out of chemotherapy. One year after
his diagnosis he’d made a full recovery, and he took a year off to travel the world. We all followed his adventures on Facebook. I researched the condition at the time and learned that some kinds
of leukemia have a survival rate of better than 70 percent.
Carlo’s brother died because his family couldn’t afford treatment. Read more…
