This will be one of many blogs and articles written about
last night’s episode of Mad Men, “The
Other Woman.” I’ve been thinking
about it all night. It cruelly and brilliantly laid bare the burden of being a woman in 1966,
something to be bought and sold and owned.
There’s a school of thought that anyone other than white men
has to work twice as hard for half the recognition. I'm black and female; I’ve felt
this my whole life. I’ve felt that “You’re representing the whole race” burden at
my private high school, at Columbia, and in business school. I’ve felt it being
the only woman in the room; I’ve felt it being the only person of color in the
room. And for me, that burden has meant that I expect to have to work harder to
prove myself and to be taken seriously. It’s unfair, but it’s the world I live
in. In 1966, I’d have had far, far fewer choices than I have now. I wouldn’t
have the luxury of being a copywriter whose work is overlooked; I’d be Don’s
not-seen-in-many-episodes secretary Dawn, if I were lucky.
If I were white, like Peggy and Joan, I’d be faced with more, but tough, choices. If I were Joan, I’d have to face being literally pimped out by my
colleagues – expensively pimped out, but pimped out nonetheless. I’d have to
live with the burden that my colleagues see me as a whore, and then with the
burden of whoring myself out, as Joan does. If I were Peggy, I’d have to deal
with not getting the recognition I deserve, having my underlings recognized
over me, having money literally thrown in my face by my boss, and being a pawn
in my new boss’s quest to stick it to my old boss (although I’m not sure Peggy
realizes the latter yet, and if she does, I’m not convinced she should care.
Business is rarely altruistic, after all).
Peggy refuses to put a price on her dignity. Humiliated and overlooked by Don
for the last time, when she gives notice and he tells her he’ll beat her offer
if she just gives the number, she tells him there IS no number. She’s going.
She tearfully tells Don not to be a stranger, holds her head high, and walks
away. She liked the people at work, but … it’s work, and she has the chance to
do more and better work at a new agency, so she’s going. It’s the move she has
to make at this point in her career. This is common even now – to “move on to
move up” and then later, to become a “win-back.”
Contrast her with Joan, who actually DOES put a price on her
dignity – a 5% not-silent partnership in the agency. Her colleagues clearly don’t
respect her if they’re willing to inform her that Jaguar Guy wants to sleep
with her, take a meeting about whether or not they should pimp her out, and tell her that such a meeting took place.
In doing this, it’s clear that they see her as a whore – if they didn’t, they’d
know better than to bring it up to her. They’ve also changed her job title without
telling her or adjusting her compensation and gave her the task of reviewing TV
scripts, praised the way she did it, and then gave the job to a man and paid
him more. Crude drawings of her have circulated the office. They’ve all said
they can’t live without her, that she runs the office … but they don’t respect
her. She’s a woman doing woman’s work, and she has a place.
Peggy’s new boss noted that Don still sees her as “a
secretary who’s willing to help out” (that’s how she got noticed in the first
place). They clearly see Joan the same way, with the added bonus of being
conventionally beautiful.
I don’t think women can watch an episode like “The Other Woman”
and not wonder “How far would I go?”
Would I prostitute myself to get ahead in business? (I can't say "sell myself" because we all, regardless of gender, sell ourselves in business all the time - we sell our abilities, our connections, our attitudes, particularly in advertising. The men of Sterling Cooper Draper Price are always selling.) No.
Knowing how hard I already have to work to be taken seriously, I could not
undermine myself like that – I couldn’t allow myself to become That Woman who
slept her way to the top. It’s hard enough out here, and the person who sleeps
her way to the top is rarely respected. But I’d
like to think I’ve earned enough respect and carry myself in such a way that my
co-workers wouldn’t even think to suggest it.
If they did (and I think how you see this episode depends on whether you can believe that the men of SCDP would go so far as
to pimp Joan out – and I have no trouble believing it, especially re: Pete, who
is disgusting, and Lane, who is between a rock and a hard place since he just embezzled
$8K from the company and has to keep from being found out), I have options that
Joan doesn’t have. I’ve been blessed with excellent educational opportunities.
I have degrees. I have family I can lean on in hard times (Joan has her mother
but she’s not particularly happy about it and she doesn't appear to have anyone else). LinkedIn exists. My ultimate "prize" isn't to snag a rich husband. It’s 2012, not 1966.
We’re meant to
see Joan’s situation as semi-desperate, I think – a single mother without a ton
of money, raised “to be admired” but with the admiration window closing (Roger
Sterling, her former lover, married a woman younger than she, as did Don, and
both women are unencumbered by children). So I guess I’m paraphrasing Chris Rock: I'm not saying she should have done it, but I
understand. I understand how a woman who has always traded on her sexuality and
who knows that the men who employ her don’t hold her as their equal would trade
on her sexuality one last time to ensure that she doesn’t have to do it again.
There’s always a line in business, a boundary you won’t
cross. The staff at SCDP has fairly well erased that line. My question is how
they’ll treat Joan in the aftermath – is she just that woman who whored her way
into the partnership, or has she earned their respect? In the present day it
would be the former.