The Queen Bee

“She could be a CEO one day,” I nodded to Bonnie. She’s busy bossing around Sam, another little girl. They built a sandcastle on the beach, and Sam seemed to follow Bonnie’s orders like an adoring puppy. They’re six. 

“I raised another Megan?” Joanne smiled ruefully. “I hope not.”

Recently, Joanne and Megan got into a fight. Megan, the SVP of product engineering, is in charge to lead a cross-functional task force. Something about the development of a new feature for one of their best-performing products. A small but diverse group of people, ranging from engineering to design, marketing, and finance. Men with the company for years, and a few fellow juniors as Joanne. 

Although Joanne was proud that she had been picked up for this high profile project, she was also honored. “After all, Megan was the only woman who could ascend to the senior ranks in the company,” she said a few weeks ago. 

It was after the orientation meeting, when Megan introduced the team, presented the goal, and drew the first assignments. That night we were celebrating Joanne’s nomination in this task force. She was so happy that she would be able to learn from Megan. “A woman in power, a model,” she said. Determined to work to the bone and make a good impression. 

“How many women are in this select team?” I asked. 

“Megan and me,” she said, an ice-cold beer pressed to her ruby red lips. “Why?”

“Nothing, just asking,” I avoided a small but annoying itch in my mind. What are the odds? I thought. We were feeling so good. A full moon was shining brightly. She was shining. Nah, let it go, I thought. But I shouldn’t. 

She wasn’t prepared for what came next. Megan started bullying Joanne from the first meeting.

“She is constantly interrupting or talking over me,” Joanne exasperated one night. “As soon as I open my mouth, she says that she has heard enough. Or that she didn’t care about my opinions.”

“Is she offering some constructive ideas?”

“Nope. Zero. Nada. She just shut me up. She says that I was doing a horrible job anyway. Or openly criticizing me for not being prepared for the meeting. And that I was wasting her and everyone’s else time.”

“What do your coworkers say?” 

“Pete and Jos are embarrassed, I can feel it. One time Pete tried to jump in and give me some room to expose my topic, but Megan shoots him down immediately.”

“And the others?”

“Well, they laugh. Megan makes nasty jokes on me, like ‘Do not bother me with the details of your incompetence,' and they laughed. Another meeting, when we ordered food for the lunch break, Megan looked at my order saying ‘That will make you fat,’ and everybody laughed. ‘What a brilliant bastard she is,’ I could hear one of the engineering guys saying. With admiration.”

“I hope you have not confronted Megan in front of the group.”

“But I did. Look, I’m not proud of what I did, but I was exasperated and angry.”

“She started yelling at you?”

“Oh no, she’s too good for that,” Joanne grunted. “She just gave me a condescending smile while she slowly measured me from top to bottom. And then totally ignored me as if I was a stapler.”

“How is she treating the other members of the team?”

“She owns the table, surely. After all, she is the most experienced of us. And an SVP. So yes, sometimes she’s patronizing. But she’s nice. And supportive. There are disagreements, of course. But over the goal of a task. Or over the process, how to carry out the assignment, how we’re doing it. And she is leading the group in a constructive way. She’s that good,” Joanne sighed.

“Except with me,” she said confused. “I’m the only victim. I mean, why did she pick me up for the team in the first place? Or, if I’m such a dumb blonde, why not replacing me? What’s wrong with me? Why am I subjecting myself to this humiliation?” 

That night Joanne cried. A soft, sad weeping, questioning her capabilities and herself. She’s hurt. And so tired. 

So here we are. On the virtually deserted beach. Far in the distance, someone was walking a dog. The sky hung low, but tomorrow could easily be sunny again. We heard Bonnie shouting ‘Watch out, woman!’ to Sam as they worked on the sandcastle patting it with a spade. We smiled. 

“She’s a Queen Bee, you know,” I said. “Megan. She’s a classic Queen Bee. I thought they had disappeared. Like triceratops. Extinct. Brushed away by evolution.”

“What’s a Queen Bee?” 

“The term describes a woman who thrives in a leadership position in our male-dominated workplace. And who uses her power to keep other women down.”

“So she needs me to validate her position? Her Queen Bee precious crown?”

“Yeah, the ‘There can be only one’ syndrome. And more or less consciously, the Queen Bees are indirectly rewarded for not promoting other women and maintaining the status quo.”

“That’s sick,” she grimaced.

“Yap. Sometimes one of the obstacles to more women getting promoted is a woman already in a leadership position. Sometimes women can also be originators of sexism, not just victims.”

“Self-preservation? Just a basic instinct?”

“For sure. They want to be associated only with men, the ‘one of the guys’ fit. Therefore Queen Bees will tend to institutionalize the low status of other women.” 

“It’s heartbreaking to think about a woman who sabotages another woman. Instead of bonding against discrimination,” she sighed. 

Waves after waves are smashing on the beach and white water bubbles as if it were boiling. Bonnie and Sam are quiet now, too busy to adorn the sandcastle with shells. 

“What should I do?” she muttered.

“You have several options. The first one is to do nothing. Let the comments go as if nothing happened. You just swallow your pride and move on.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I guessed so. But when you suspect that your opponent is unwilling to have a positive dialogue, or you have little or no power because your opponent is your boss, to do nothing is an option to consider. Sometimes it may not be worth addressing an issue if you don’t think it’s going to go anywhere.”

“You’re right. It makes sense. But in my particular case, I just simply don’t like it,” she snorted. “Another option? ”

“Address it indirectly. You go to HR, for example, if you think that Megan will be more willing to take feedback from someone else.”

“Yeah, this is exactly our internal policy. And I think this is the policy of any company. But with Megan, it will backfire.”

“You’re probably right,” I nodded. “The third one is the exit. This is usually the last resort. You exit the group. Or the department. Or the company.”

“On the one hand I worked too hard for being in this cross-functional team,” she said thoughtfully. “On the other hand, I admit that the exit may give me a sense of relief. No more stress, no more discomfort. Besides, exiting the team sounds so easy and therefore so tempting.”

“Which leads us to the most difficult option. Confront the issue. Deal with Megan.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I have to do it,” she tried to smile. “However, this is not my first rodeo.”

“Yeah, the risky option. If it’s not handled well, it might heighten the issue rather than defuse it.”

“I know. Any thoughts?” she leaned forward, giving me full attention.

“Only one. Mandatory, if you ask me. When is the next meeting scheduled?”

“In ten days.”

“We have ten days to prepare you in the science of dealing with conflict.”

“This is the best offer,” she nodded.

“This won’t be easy, by any means. I’m not gonna lie to you, Megan it’s a tough gig. But the reward is fabulous.”

“What do you mean?”

“It goes without saying that mastering conflict is a remarkably valuable skill. Let’s face it. There’s no conflict-free company. We are fighting over strategies, resources, projects. And there are always some passive-aggressive jerks. But the conflict itself isn’t the real problem. It’s how we handle it that matters. Knowing when to let it go is just as important as knowing when and how to engage.” 

“So if you ask me,” I continued, “mastering conflict is unquestionably a topic worth learning. I think that empowering yourself through education is crucial in the workplace.”

I stopped. Letting her see it.

And then go a step further.

“And beyond. Just imagine that two or three or four professional women start having coffee or lunch together twice a month. Sharing their achievements and issues and frustrations. Sharing about business, brainstorming about ideas, putting heads together about strategies. After these lunches or coffees, they’ll all go back to their offices. They couldn’t glorify themselves, but they could easily do it for their workmates. Their careers grow, and each rose up the ranks. The Queen Bee is exiled, and the cluster becomes stronger.”

A few surfers in full-body neoprene suits were running towards the ocean, laughing and shouting, their boards ready to launch. Bonnie was charmed. She will date bad boys one day.