Power Struggles in Professionalism


 For every setting that there is professionalism, despite one’s age or focus, there is power.

I began focusing on professional development in my first year of high school, eventually molding my routine and goals around it up until college. Maybe it was a result of my high school’s unique structure: an emphasis on real-world experience rather than standardized testing. But the main reason may have been that there were several arbitrary factors playing that were against my odds, rendering me powerless in more ways than one.

When I started high school, I was a young, immigrant Asian American girl who, after the death of her mother, her sole guardian, was also a low-income dependent of the state. While I was blessed to receive a full scholarship to a private high school, I was subsequently surrounded by wealthy, white students. For every day I went to class, both in high school and at the University of Florida (UF), I was always aware of a power imbalance. An imbalance of emotional, intellectual, and financial resources. From early on, I knew that college admission would require me to work harder and earlier than most around me as I had little to no resources — I was powerless, and I saw in high school that I needed power to succeed. In this context, I saw power as an equalizing force and it came in the form of building my skills, network, and resources. It’s not until now, however, that I’ve realized that my early efforts to do so subconsciously shaped me to act in a traditionally “masculine” sense throughout the years, particularly in the context of professional spheres. By trying to rise above a power imbalance, I conformed to masculine, traditional traits in order to be perceived as legitimate, but in this blog I will deconstruct the specific traits of public speaking (in spheres of international relations or political science) and the concept of “business professional”.

Power of Public Speaking

Public speaking is a common factor in every career field I’m interested in: law, policy-making processes, and/or international relations. However, there is a gendered, albeit subconscious, type of speaking that is desired in these fields, one that exudes charm and confidence: power.

I was heavily involved in my high school’s Model United Nations (MUN) team; I picked up on it easily as I was an avid public speaker. While it’s not a perfect imitation, MUN conferences encourage its participants to mimic interactions that would occur in the United Nations as closely as possible. And just like the institution it models, there was a large presence of diplomacy and, most importantly, power. Within my first year, recognized that power played a significant role in those two- to three-day conferences and who received awards, even among high schoolers. Simultaneously, I noticed that it was a predominantly male-dominated field and most of the award-placers were also men. I tested different approaches and attitudes in these conferences to find which would be most effective, or label me as the “best delegate” (the equivalent of being in first-place).

I shortly realized that the gender imbalance was a result of an underlying equation to being seen as the “best delegate”. It reflected what power looks like in true settings of, for example, international security and even similar, professional settings on a collegiate level. Ultimately, it mirrors power in any setting with a group of competing, professional individuals: job, college, or internship interviews or networking events. Peterson alludes to this in the context of the state, writing that “the state is ‘the main organizer of the power relations of gender’. The ‘scale and coherence’ of the state are readily apparent in official expressions of authority and violence such as executive power, legislation, policing and wars…the state is additionally a “bearer of gender” by reference to male domination of the top personnel of states and to the cult of masculinity among these personnel” (Security and Sovereign States, 45). These feuds of power often originate from and are concentrated at the top in which people attempt to reach. In order to do so, you must conform to masculine ideals, or the “cult”.

To try and explain what I mean by this, I’ll use Sjoberg’s excerpt: “gender can be a causal variable, which causes (or is caused by) states security-seeking behavior. For example, feminist scholars have argued that states’ foreign policy choices are guided by their identities, which are based on association with characteristics attached to masculinity, manliness, and heterosexism” (Introduction to Security Studies: Feminist Contributions, 200). Foreign policy choices and their agents act according to desired, masculine standards. In MUN, this looked a lot like being a loud, confident voice willing to lead and delegate blocs of other individuals. It’s being able to defend your resolution and position without considering opposing ones. The best delegate looks at the “bigger picture”, delegating smaller factors to others, as they understand the time crunch.

However, depending on the topic, gender is often not taken into consideration, especially, for example, in the Security Council (UNSC). Ultimately, the best delegate reflects traditionally masculine attitudes, which explains why most of the winners are men. This is what I realized early on. And, unfortunately, I began to mirror these traits and associated them to power. If someone was not loud, well-spoken, or assertive, I instinctively associated it, in these settings, as inferior. It wasn’t until my last year of high school that I recognized it, and, going forward in similar college settings, I made sure to pay equal weight and attention to those that many, including myself in the past, would have ignored. Not by coincidence, these underrepresented voices seen as less powerful are often women and they are seen in this lens because they don’t mirror masculine traits. There is not the same weight or consideration given to those who are soft-spoken, emotional, or not as eloquent speakers and, subconsciously, these are traits associated to women, subordination, and lack of voice and power.

A Gendered Dress Code

Power became increasingly present in my life in any given professional setting. One thing that job or college interviews, networking events, or conferences had in common was a business professional dress code. While this may seem arbitrary to some, I think there’s a significant presence of gender and power in what it means to be in business professional attire. Cynthia Enloe comments that “so many power structures…are dependent on our continuing lack of curiosity…imbuing them with legitimacy, with timelessness, with inevitability” (The Curious Feminist, 3). Business professional attire, an unspoken requirement of many professional interviews or settings, has, in Western, developed societies, traditionally been: neutral colors, dress suit and pants, allowing skirts for women at a certain-length. There is no room for expression, color, or patterns at the risk of being seen as unprofessional — being illegitimate.

I pride myself in my professionalism. By my junior year of high school, I had business cards, an updated paper and online resume, and structured LinkedIn. However, I also have an interest in fashion. Except in most of the professional spheres I’m in (either concerning politics, law, or corporations), a leopard print top underneath a blazer would be considered “unprofessional”. In these settings, the dress code reflects the rigidity required of you and anything outside of it is considered wrong, even the expression of self. Without expanding too far, despite a large and significant presence of men in high fashion, an interest in fashion or beauty has been mostly associated to women. Women’s business professional attire is not one that considers women but rather it was an expansion to what was expected of men. This is why pant suits (or with a skirt) is expected of women for this attire, with the same colors and patterns. Whenever we are required to or simply dress in business professional (perhaps, ironically, to gain more power such as in job or college interviews), we are subconsciously attempting to radiate power.  

Power is instinctively associated to business professional attire, to blazers, but this attire has been historically developed around upper class men. Sjoberg alludes to this, stating that “social processes select for values and behaviors than can be associated with an idealized…masculinity. This selection occurs because traits associated with hegemonic masculinities dominate social relations while other values are subordinated” (Introduction to Security Studies: Feminist Contributions, 199). For as long as business professional attire standards maintain these traditions, then the settings which require it will be subconsciously correlating masculinity to professionalism and power. Anything attempting to expand or redefine outside of it would be subordinated — inferior and wrong. Fortunately, I think there is more exposure and traction to this topic, with social movements led by women that seek to “redefine” the meaning of business professional attire.

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