Ghost in the Podcast covered an interesting blog post last week. In it, Jessica Curry from the UK game studio The Chinese Room (Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs) outlined her reasons for stepping back from her company to pursue her own work. Her three main reasons for the decision, per Curry’s article, were health, never wanting to work with a major publisher again, and sexism within the gaming industry. We read excerpts from the post during our broadcast, with the particular part catching my attention being the story about her husband (creative director Dan Pinchbeck) pitching one of her ideas to Sony but attributing it to someone else on the team. After describing her anger and bewilderment along with a number of other slights suffered over the years, Curry goes on to state that the only way she feels she’ll ever get the credit she deserves is by distancing herself from her husband professionally and taking a step back from the studio.
My initial reaction* to the post had centered more around the airing of dirty laundry on a company blog – in addition to the complaints about her husband’s pitch, the number of “I’m not going to go into specifics but will give enough info that I may as well have been specific” lines were ridiculous. But what made the story percolate in the back of my mind for the past week centers more on her specific frustrations about lack of respect that she attributes to the gaming industry as a whole. Curry makes some good points, and I understand her frustrations – she lists a number of micro inequities that on their own wouldn’t be a big deal, but collectively can be too much to take. Among other things, she talks about journalists and industry heads not realizing her place in the company and assuming her position lesser because she is a woman. She talks about her husband telling others that she “is the brains of the operation” only to have those people assume he’s just being kind about his wife. And she spends a lot of time talking about how over the years, she had to watch her husband get the credit for their projects over and over again.
Curry starts off that section of her essay with the line “I thought I was strong enough to lead the charge, to prove through talent and hard work and positivity that women have a vital role to play” and ends with “This is not a rejection of him but of the society that still can’t cope with the fact that a woman might just be as talented as the man she shares her life with.” Throughout the post, in between lamenting the various (legit) ways she’s been slighted over the years, she readily admits to not doing anything about it. She doesn’t like to do talks, but her partner does. People assumed he was the driving force behind the company, and she wouldn’t pipe up to say anything different. People assumed she had a lesser role in her studio, and she never corrected that assumption. She still says she loves the creative process – indeed, that’s why most of us embark on these ventures, for better or for worse – but she can’t take playing second fiddle anymore and not having her work recognized while a man gets lauded for his. Curry’s conclusion is that clearly sexism is at play, which is why she needs to leave to do her own thing.
Here’s the problem with that argument: what happens if she partners with someone else (female, obviously) who assumes the same sort of role in her new venture? As in, let’s assume in the above scenario, instead of a man being the creative partner, it was a woman instead? A woman who does the talking, since Curry doesn’t like to? A woman who is lauded by the press while Curry sits back, as she puts it, not wanting to seem like an egotist by talking about her role? Does not the end result just repeat?
And Curry isn’t alone. Many of us downplay our accomplishments for fear of seeming a braggart, and many of us are so anxious about rejection that rather than take a chance by putting one of our projects out in the world, we bury it – the world can’t reject what it never sees. We spend time comparing ourselves to any assortment of super-successful examples of what we aspire to and give ourselves a thousand reasons why we aren’t good enough to enter the race. I see this with writers a lot: we get so caught up in “this isn’t J.K. Rowling-level” or “I didn’t hear back from that publisher” that our work – really good work, in many cases – gets shoved in folders and shoe boxes in the back of the closet, maybe occasionally shared with a close friend, but generally not venturing to take the chance at being read and either loved or not. We set our own glass ceilings to reign in expectations and avoid the chance of being hurt by our creations being rejected.
But back to the sexism argument. Last October, when my campus hosted a Women in Leadership conference, one of the panelists made a very impassioned argument about how if women truly wanted to get ahead as leaders of industry, they needed to reject the idea of glass ceilings and just go out there, be amazing, and talk about what they do. Stop worrying about whether a field has more men than women. If it’s something you’re passionate about, if it’s something you have talent in, people aren’t going to care whether you’re in pants or a skirt – they want to know who is going to get the job done, and done well. Same thing with salaries: a different panelist reminded us that negotiations come before you accept an offer, not after, and you’ll only get what you settle for. If you don’t think an offer’s fair, don’t accept it with the idea that you can prove your worth later, because by then it’s too late.
And this advice doesn’t just apply to women. When people come to me with ideas and ask my advice on the feasibility of a project’s success or success in a position, I ask them to think about three questions:
1. What, specifically, do you want?
2. How bad do you really want it?
3. What are you willing to do or give up to get it?
Because, let’s be honest, if your goal is to be a rock star but you don’t want to give up sleeping in on Saturday mornings to learn an instrument, guess what? Guitar Hero ain’t getting you a Grammy. Sorry to be the harsh slap of realism this early on a Monday. Likewise, and this is where my point comes in, if you aren’t willing to go out and talk to people about what you do, if you aren’t willing to correct journalists when their information is wrong, if you’d rather quietly bite your tongue and seethe at the fact you aren’t being given your proper due for the work you’ve done, be prepared to be angry and disappointed a lot, because nobody else is going to do it for you. If you aren’t willing to be your own cheerleader, why would you expect anyone else to?
Again, I understand Ms. Curry’s frustrations. I do. But again, and I’ve stressed this in my earlier posts, you have the power to change your world. If your goal is to lead the charge, if your goal is to prove that women or any other group have a role to play in whatever field you’re passionate about, then be a leader. Talent and hard work and positivity is a good foundation, but it’s not enough – one can’t be a leader by sitting on the damned sidelines. If you want to change the way mainstream society sees the gaming industry as a boy’s club, be the example of why they’re wrong. In short, GET IN THE GAME.
Do not settle. Do not make nor accept excuses. Do not hold yourself back.
The only glass ceilings you’re going to hit are the ones you create for yourself.
thefourthcastle.com 