We've come a long way, baby, but we've got a long way to go

By Lisa Southern

I’ve been in the practice of law for 24 years, if you count articling. 

In 1996, I had the good fortune of starting my practice in the labour department of Russell & DuMoulin where gender, for me, was not a barrier. It was actually a remarkable firm that introduced novel ideas back in the day, such as paternity leave, had openly out lawyers, and one of the first female managing partners.

The department decided to send me to work for an organization that did all the bargaining for forestry on the coast of British Columbia. I would be the only woman there in a non-administrative role, at least 20 years younger than my colleagues there, and I knew nothing about forestry.

I still remember early moments working there, being tasked with taking the notes (there’s a surprise) and forgetting to take them because I’d never heard so many expletives used in such an artful form before.

I remember begging another member of our team not to make me set up the IT equipment, pour the water, or hand out papers for training in front of the all-male leadership team we were presenting to — and then having to do just that, and crawl under the table on my hands and knees to plug in the equipment. I was furious, but felt I had no choice, and wondered if I had any credibility at all after that spectacle when it was time for me to present my legal update.

I remember my first conversation with someone I would report to, whose first words to me were: “I didn’t want a lawyer, and I didn’t want a woman.” I’m pleased to report that we went on to be good friends and colleagues. I admired him greatly, and I think he felt the same.  Nonetheless, it was a less-than-ideal way to be introduced to the sector.

Unwelcome surprises at remote locale
Twenty-three years ago, I was on my way to the Queen Charlotte Islands (QCI) to visit amazing, remote places such as Louise Island, Juskatla, Moresby Camp. Arguably, in 1997, these were places where a 23-year-old, newly minted female lawyer of 5 ft. 1 had no business going. But everyone I met (union, management) was warm and willing to share with me their knowledge of forestry and their love for this remote, wild, beautiful place.

It wasn’t easy. There wasn’t a female around for miles. And there wasn’t really an opportunity to shower or bathe. One time, I got to stay in the tree planter’s Atco trailer. It didn’t smell good in there, but I was optimistic. Into the shower I went, only to be greeted by a wolf spider the size of my head. On rapidly exiting the shower, I found no towel, but a dirty washcloth used extensively by the tree planters. I dried myself off with a corner of it. And went to sleep in that trailer, alone, with one eye open, waiting for that spider.

In the morning, because sometimes life isn’t fair, mother nature came calling. There was no tampon machine on Louise Island, and I had not planned for this particular event. I thought maybe I should go hiking for lichen? But I didn’t really know what that was. And so, the camp manager thought I had a bladder infection or incontinence instead, as I quickly disappeared to the bathroom every 20 minutes. I remember getting to the bathroom in the Sandspit airport, and weeping at the sight of a tampon machine.

I continued to practise labour law and continued to support forestry clients. I went to the BC Labour Relations Board, first as a vice-chair and then as registrar. I started my own practice.

I am now a senior partner in a firm that I helped create.

Despite all the gains, I still have moments of being that same 23-year-old who was seen as something less than I ought to be because of my gender, or who met unwelcome work environments that did not consider the needs of creating a safe and respectful place for a woman — particularly in remote locations. 

Still more to be done
In the last few weeks, I had two experiences that show while gains have been made, there’s more to be done. 

The first was a great example of the “she-peat.” Different from the “mansplain,” it’s a term I use to mark an event where a woman speaks in a meeting and a man repeats that idea or contribution but attributes it to himself. In this particular meeting, the senior leader who engaged in the “she-peat” also had trouble directing his thoughts to me, even though I was the lead spokesperson for the group. My colleagues were astutely aware of this dynamic, commented on it after the fact, and queried my reaction to it.

The second was a few days later on a call where I was the only female. I used an analogy from another sector to demonstrate my experience with the scenario, only to be told, in a condescending tone, how private sector employers, and the particular sector in question, is different. “Oh dude — after 24 years of dealing with private employers in every sector, I get your business, I get your pace, and I understand what all of that means” is what I felt like saying, but I demurred and soaked up the wisdom being imparted. 

I’d love to say these are unique examples. But they are not. I’ve had the human rights code mansplained, been told how collective bargaining works, and advised on how to investigate by a man who’s never done one.

So, what does all this mean? I truly believe things are getting better. But there is a long way for us to go. It’s not acceptable that at 23, in the 1990’s, I had to grit my teeth and crawl on my hands and knees to plug in the equipment in front of an all-male audience but, perhaps, it was understandable. The fact that now, in 2020, as a senior practitioner, I still have to grit my teeth, is not. 

Lisa Southern is a partner at Southern Butler Price in Vancouver. She can be reached at [email protected] or visit www.southernlaw.ca for more information.