Ify Walker’s Post

I remember seeing the white #Bronco on the freeway. I was 13. So, when OJ died, I re-watched ESPN's OJ: Made in America. I was struck by what I didn't want *my* children to see. It wasn't the murders. It was hearing how desperately #OJSimpson needed to be liked. How he wanted people to SEE him. It was seeing a single mom doing the best she could with the little she was allowed to have. It was seeing the "grit", i.e. hits he took to his head for his best opportunity out of the ghetto before any of us could utter #CTE. It was seeing #OJ and Marguerite -- 18 year old children on a national stage. Surrounded, but utterly exposed. It was Hertz "erasing" OJ's blackness. Removing Black people and inserting white people to endorse him in the commercial. It was having some guy say admiringly, "OJ didn't have traditionally Black features. I mean, his features were almost white; he was good-looking." It was witnessing the source of his drive -- and understanding it. So, I don't ask anymore what happens to a dream deferred. Tell me what happens when the dream is achieved. Against all odds. And at all costs. Recently, 2 executives I know committed suicide. A third executive friend says she doesn’t know where the edge is, but she feels like she is close to it. All experienced the "American dream." Started from the bottom - now I'm here. All 3 learned to ignore invisible injuries. To be grateful for having “made it.”  To smile beautiful smiles. To golf beautiful games. To join the right country clubs. Send their kids to selective schools. Buy the biggest boats. And send mama her money. Bootstraps - or die trying. Casey Gerald, chairman of Kickstarter & Harvard b-school & Yale grad, says, “You know, we did a lot of things we wouldn’t advise anybody we loved to do…If you catch it from the right angle, a kid picking himself up by his bootstraps can look like a suicide.” So, to all who have done things we would not advise anyone we loved to do in the name of “making it” Surround yourself with people who remind you of who you are. Who refuse to let go when you are lost. And then follow them. For they know the way home. H/T Casey Gerald's The Black Art of Escape & There Will Be No Miracles Here

As the CEO of an executive search firm, I don’t talk to #jobseekers as often anymore. But when I do, I hear anger, sadness, and fear. These emotions are normal. It's what you do with them that matters. Here are 4 tips. Some will seem obvious. It seems that those of us who are not old - but also not young - could use a gentle refresher the most. 1. Demonstrate preparation: Say, “I’ve been a fan of your work at Dropbox and have been following the rise of your new company. Congrats on the successful sale to Babylist last year!” FACT: Executive search firms are not obligated to talk to you. They are *not* career coaches. So, when they give you the 1 resource that cannot be replenished, demonstrate you’ve done your homework. Instant connection. 2. Demonstrate mutuality: “I want this to be a mutual exchange, so I’d like to know how I can help you.” EXAMPLE: Leave the last 5 minutes of the call to shift the call to them and how you can help THEM. They will remember you. I help people I remember. 3. Take recommendations or wait until you’re in the headspace for recommendations and advice. “Thanks for the feedback” or “I appreciate that advice” are great ways to respond to feedback (even if you don’t agree with the recommendations or think it’s trash). EXAMPLE: I recently talked to someone who rejected 4 of my recommendations. I told him that I wanted to help him, but he wanted to vent. In that headspace, I couldn't help him. 4. Be specific vs. running a never-ending commercial about yourself. I usually ask, "How can I make this call the most useful for you?" Give specifics. Some are specific. I love these people. They make it easy to help. Some are not. I do not love these people. They make it difficult to help. EXAMPLE: One person listed 30 orgs they'd applied as I tried to interject. Another spent 5 minutes talking about himself while saying *nothing* at all. I was exhausted at the end of each call. I didn't offer my network to them. You are the CEO of you. May you show up ready to receive every opportunity that is yours. Full article on Offor's Talent Network Substack: https://lnkd.in/gJiWpwiQ

I am a childbirth survivor. The day I ushered in life, I almost lost mine. My care team and husband saved my life. As crimson poured from my body and coated the hospital floor, I did not ask that I might live. I said, "make it stop." Let's make it stop. Let's make medicine's comfort with the death and suffering of Black women in childbirth stop until there are enough of us -- for all of us to ensure #neveragain for ANY of us. -- As the CEO of Offor, an executive search firm, it’s my job to ensure women have the chance to lead. But first, we must have the chance to live. Black women *with* college degrees are 3x more likely to die in childbirth than White women *without* a HS degree. All the degrees, diets, diction, and digits in our bank accounts will not save us from the two things killing us: (1) complications due to "weathering" and being (2) dismissed by doctors when we do. We can advocate for our lives to prevent the blood clots that almost killed billionaire #SerenaWilliams and be dismissed. Or, completely ignored when our husbands advocate for us like what happened to 32-year old college educated #AprilValentine when nurses refused to call a doctor and blood clots took her life. You can win gold for your country in the #Olympics as Tori Bowie did when she died while 8 months pregnant. You can cheer for the #NFL Kansas City Chiefs as Krystal Lakeshia Anderson did, be ignored, and die after giving birth to her stillborn child. To be sure, some Black women have better odds. According to research, my #Nigerian mother's odds were better than mine because she was raised in Nigeria. Thus, she had not experienced as much “weathering” -- the never ending cortisol bath from enduring years of overt and invisible sexism and racism in America. It's like giving birth while tap dancing backwards - at sea. If you want to honor #BlackMaternalHealth, honor those who have died and suffered by declaring #neveragain - for any of us. Let’s tell our daughters how we 1/ Created an easily accessible network of Black doctors in every city, like Black Doctors USA. 2/ Increased the numbers of Black white coats so that every woman could have access and choice to someone like Dr. Millicent Comrie of New York  - a legendary Black OBGYN who listens and protects, so we might live. 3/ Advocated and won 12 months of paid leave for ALL women so that there is the time pre, during and after childbirth to combat weathering and switch doctors if needed. 4/ Defined pregnancy and childbirth as "high risk" for any Black woman raised in America and gave anyone who wanted one a doula. #doulasforall #neveragain for any of us. My daughter -- and yours.

As the wife of a founder, it’s been a surreal week. When we see stories of founders and startups, we (often) see men. We do not see the silent partners (often women) who silently, fiercely, and consistently protect founders and their dreams. And sometimes, quiet their own. To all the silent partners who have swallowed their emotions, identified the doctors, dentists, and churches; found and re-found the schools; and stitched together something we know as love. Who have tried to wrestle something for themselves in this all consuming thing called entrepreneurship while handing their husbands Lean In and @Drop the Ball, as though reading would fix a game rigged for them both. Who have taught their children to celebrate and respect their father’s ambition while rage-smiling in response to an innocent, “Why do you work so much, Mom?” Who have carried a newborn infant in one hand. Your husband on a flight to see Sheryl Sandberg in another. Who have celebrated a company changing gift from MacKenzie Scott in one hand. Comforting each other after a terrifying interaction with police on a lonely country road in another. Your name may never appear in the board minutes, on the website or the TED stage, but from one woman to another know this: You are a compass. And a lighthouse.  You are a footnote. And a chapter. Despite startup lore, success comes from knowing safety. Knowing home. So to all the boards out there, after a successful board meeting with a founder, send the partner/spouse a note. Thank them for what cannot show up on a balance sheet — for they have counted what can’t be counted in the profit & loss of their lives. To be sure, this small gesture won't erase sacrifices they'd gladly say yes to again, but it is a cold drink on the humid marathon of entrepreneurship. I promise you’ll be one of the first to do it. They will never forget it. May you not be the last on this race.

Today I attended the Black Women in Asset Management (BWAM) breakfast in #chicago. Everyone was impressive, but one woman had me at hello. As she walked through her career on stage, she would say, “I earned the opportunity.” After many growth opportunities, “I earned the opportunity to work in X.” After six years in wealth management, I earned the opportunity to do Y.” After my stellar work in Z, “I earned the opportunity to work at T.” She didn’t say she “got promoted.” She didn’t say she was “lucky.” She didn’t say she was “blessed.” She didn’t wait for anyone to knight her. She knighted herself. Of course, she acknowledged that mentors and sponsors helped. But she didn’t diminish her achievements or their investment. Of course, she’s lucky. But when you are the first, the few, or the only, you don’t luck and bless your way to over $15B assets under management #AUM. And she reminded us all. Who are we not to speak of our achievements? Who are we not to knight ourselves? For neither luck nor blessings change what’s always been true. The first sale, is to yourself.

Genius is equally distributed. Access to the test is not. At Offor, we give candidates the questions to the test. Some board members and CEOs don't like this. Because typical #executivesearch rewards the person who Was already known to the board, CEO, or their network.  Had a call or dinner with a board or staff member willing to spill the tea.  Had $5,000 to pay someone to create their deck for the board. But we who have been first, few or only learn rules. So we can break them. At Offor, every candidate gets the questions for interviews. Everyone gets a deep FAQ with first-hand behind-the-scenes quotes. Every finalist gets a copy of the Talent & Culture Audit.  Every finalist candidate gets up to $2500 for any assignments they complete. We wake up every day thinking about how we can do a seemingly unreasonable thing -- scale unfair advantages. To build executive teams that create outsized results. Until one day, there are no more first, fews, and onlys. Just new leaders. Asking different questions. Building new rules.  For a new America. For all of us.

I’ve forgotten how many times my name has been mispronounced. But I'll never forget the first time I was called another Black woman's name. An executive candidate we'd worked with for six months called me by another Black woman's name. A woman we both knew. A woman who did not work at Offor. To her, we were not Ify and *Lucy.* We were The Black Woman. And The Other Black Woman. My throat got dry. My face got hot. I coughed. Was this her shame? Or mine. And then she did it again in an email. And then again on a phone call. She apologized. And got the job. I tucked this memory away in the file SSWWD. And got the lesson. At Offor, we ask candidates to record their names via video. We get to see, study, and hear them say their names. The founders, CEOs and Board members we work with to build their teams see it too. We don't do it because we think it's "kind." We do it because we teach people how to treat us. Because how you do anything is how you do everything. Correct them each time Until there are so many of us teaching them how to treat us That our children's children need not do the same. #classisinsession #offoruniversity

A few weeks ago, I received an unexpected gift of sneakers. I've been surprised by how much this symbol has meant to me. What stands out to me most is I didn't ask for these, she just sent them. I didn't know I needed a symbolic reminder that no matter the journey, I have shoes. She demonstrated #unreasonablehospitality and the #containerofcare we strive to create around first-time CEOs, founders, and candidates. At Offor we work with a lot of firsts, fews, and onlys. You are asked to be Understanding of the humanity of your people, but to still deliver excellence early, always, and better.  To say something while angering no one. To be generous in times of feast and to eat last in times of famine. As you build your c-suite team or join one that will have an outsized influence on the quality of your personal and professional life, may you: Surround yourself with people and partners who will build with you, alongside you, and protect you. In service of your purpose. And when needed, remind you that whatever the journey you travel for the first time, you have shoes.

There is a lot I've forgotten about the haziness of waiting for death. But there are so many lessons I am glad I remember. Four years ago, my dad was dying and I was going to miss my flight. I’m glad I almost did. I walked to the agent and said quietly, I think I am going to miss my flight. Can you help me? She looked at her screen, at me, and then said, you’re going to make it. I thanked her. And then I started to cry. I told her that she didn’t even know that my dad was dying and that I was trying to make it home. Because of her, I now would. She walked around the desk, and quietly said, let’s get you on this flight. And then, she carried my bag. And walked me to TSA.  To the front of the line.  She took my shoes and bag and placed them in a bin.  She walked my bags and me to the gate. With a tissue in hand to wipe a face full of sweat and tears, she wished me well. Years later, I wondered what it would be like to build a team of leaders like her around a first-time CEO or Founder. A team that understood their assignment and purpose -- when the bags you carry are more than any human should have to hold. At Offor, we walk with first-time CEOs and Founders as they hire their teams. CEOs who are being asked to do an unreasonable thing with impossible constraints. Walking a road, they've never walked before. Often isolated, trying to figure out where to turn. So, they need a team that can bring results and #unreasonablehospitality At Offor, we see you when we stare our purpose in the eyes. May we take your bags, not give you more to carry. May we help you build a team that will do the same for you. Even as things fall apart, may you be surrounded by a team that can hold things together, lead in purpose, and protect you.

As the CEO of an executive search firm, I've been numb in the wake of the departure of Dr. Gay, former Harvard President. Not because of what happened to Dr. Gay. But because her public takedown had the air of a tragedy. A movie I've seen before. And this time, there was no Senator Booker to give us the balm we needed - to speak life and protection into a brilliant woman on the world's stage. We applaud the firsts. The onlys. The few. But not the costs of getting there. Or staying. And it left me wondering - is getting to the corner office worth it? What's the point of getting to the wedding if the marriage fails? This year, countless Offor candidates are stepping into CEO positions - many of them identify as women, many of them people of color. Many are the first, the few - the only. They wear the pride of achieving what we are taught to sacrifice it all for: the corner office. We are proud too. And cautious. For there is no perfect dose of degrees, diction, and determination that will protect them. To be sure, the job of University President is becoming more and more thankless for everyone. And of course words matter; but, perfection cannot be a condition of any job. It's also true that many of us are considering if the c-suite is worth it. And yet, that is where so many decisions that affect our lives are made. To CEOs who are firsts: Thank you. You are a triumph and a testimony. You need not be perfect to be ours. "America will be better because of you."