Stop asking me to speak for free

It’s the end of March, the end of so-called Women’s History Month, the month when we “celebrate” women’s contributions by exponentially increasing their emotional labor.

Ironic, in a month that was created to recognize and value women’s contributions and women’s work. Why, then, do I have to organize my own celebrations? My own commemorations? My own campaigns?

And why, why, why do I have to speak for free? Not just this month, but every month?

We know that women have a hard time asking for what they’re worth, we hear this time and again. Lean in, ladies! we’re told. Claim your space. Bring your folding chair. Yes, we do those things. But we also need a culture — in our workplaces and in our homeplaces and in everyplace — that recognizes what we bring to the proverbial table.

Asking for women’s contributions is not a favor to women. It is a global non-negotiable. And for that, we deserve to be remunerated, just as anyone else.

And yet, when I announce that I charge for my speaking, people are shocked. If an organization asking me to speak has the resources, then they have an obligation to pay. How is this shocking?

This rant is inspired by conversations I’ve had with so many women who share my frustration with having to pay — of our time and resources and energies — for the privilege of being present. There is a growing understanding of the emotional labor of so-called nonprofit work — and its risk of exploitation. And a growing need to put down our collective feet.

Many women have reported being asked to work for free in the context of International Women’s Day — their very own day. Firstly, the burden to promote women’s rights and equality is — ironically — exclusively on women. Why?! Everyone should be doing it. We didn’t cause the inequality in the first place, so how could we be solely responsible for fixing it? Supporting women is not just “good practice”. It’s about building a good world.

And secondly, companies undertake these hollow exercises in their own interests, as a way to further promote their brand and image as champions of women’s rights. Women’s Day being co-opted by organizations in a superficial corporate show of feminism exploits women further and amounts to nothing more than ‘genderwashing’.

The façade of feminism is fashionable in corporate circles. Companies benefit from projecting a progressive image of gender equality at the expense of female employees who experience little to no advancement.

And we are fed up. So much so that a dedicated twitter account was set up to call out this BS. Every time employers tweeted about International Women’s Day, this account retweeted the company’s gender pay gap. It proved a point — and packed a punch. Organizations started deleting their women’s day well-wishes for fear of being called out on their hypocrisy.

But it’s not just March. Women’s work isn’t valued across the 11 other months as well. And women themselves constantly lament that they wish they could value their own work. We hardly ask for pay, for raises, for promotions, for professional opportunities.

The economy would be better if our contributions were valued. Women are the majority of the world’s poor. And the majority of those who are unemployed. And when they are employed, they earn far less than men — in every occupation. The wage gap is real — and really big. We say that globally women earn 77 cents for every man’s dollar. Specifically in America, women earn 83 cents for every man’s dollar, but when we factor in benefits, insurance, bonuses, etc., women actually earn 57 cents — and even less for women of color.

Women work an average of 63 unpaid days per year as a result of the gender pay gap. If the pay gap were to close, the world’s GDP would grow by $12 trillion by 2025.

That’s the formal economy. Let’s talk about the rest really quick. Two-thirds of the world’s low-wage workers are women, usually in the informal economy, with its great risks and no protections. Women do the majority of unpaid work — 75 percent of it — which includes childcare, cooking, and cleaning. Women spend between 2 to 10 more hours a day than men caring for children, the elderly or the sick. Women in Arab states perform nearly five times as much unpaid care work than men — the highest disparity in the world. Not only does this division of labor mean women work longer hours by combining paid and unpaid work, but it also results in women having less time to engage in paid labor.

Maybe then we should… value women’s work and pay them properly? It doesn’t take a genius. I’m here like a broken record, restating the painfully obvious. But it appears to be easier to remain oblivious.

Asking women to work for free is a particular problem in my field of work. I’ve howled about my feelings before, but there’s more. And other activists have come out with their experiences of being asked to work for free. Let’s call it what it is: emotional blackmail.

I recognize the value of my knowledge and experience. Shouldn’t you?

“Oh come on, Lina!” I’m told. “We don’t have the money!” Or, worse: “It will come at the expense of the project budget dedicated to women.”

If someone can demonstrate to me that this was true, I might be persuaded. If I were a man, or if I were in any other field, would we even be having this discussion? It’s a question worth asking.

Don’t get me wrong: I do a lot of pro bono stuff. Decades. And a proven track record. And I’ll continue doing it — for those who can not pay.

For the rest, I am now putting a value on my worth. It is insulting to have to perpetually defend this value. To those who can afford to pay but will not, I now say: This is my rate. Thanks and goodbye.

Do I need to reiterate my CV in order to justify it? Would everyone feel better if I said that I had 25 years across 20 countries and a PhD and two books? You’d roll your eyes. But it’s important — and maybe it needs to be said.

When we advocate for ourselves, we are advocating for the cause. For the value of the cause. For the value of our work in supporting the cause. For the value of decades of work dedicated to trying to advance this cause — much of which comes with no pay, no recognition, and even no progress.

Claiming space for ourselves also shines a light on the issues we care about. Value me — if you value women’s rights. Because this is precisely what I value. And I have dedicated my life to increasing the value of this very thing.

This includes the value of “picking my brain,” so to speak. Free advice is always given to those who need it and will do something with it. Unfortunately, my brain has been picked by vultures for decades. Big agencies with money to throw around have picked it to pieces. Pay first, pick afterwards. (Young women starting their careers and grassroots groups can please carry on — I’m yours for the picking.)

I lamented about this a lot in my seven years as Executive Director of The Arab Institute for Women. I left a job at the United Nations to join the Institute, and suddenly I was the “local partner” with my “local opinion” — even less valued than before. I would be asked to share my “local opinion” in speeches, panels, keynote addresses, and so on — without honoraria and without support to the Institute. I understand that many organizations can not pay, but there still must be some benefit from these opportunities.

So-called “local partners” are not Goodwill Ambassadors. They — we! — are professionals running small organizations that live from grant to grant. Granted, I did as many speaking engagements as I could, with the belief that the money would come. And time and again, I struggled with the moral dilemma of being asked to speak at events and to offer the “local perspective” while we struggled with lack of funding and concrete support.

In the end, my participation in these events was practically personal leave — time taken from the work I was supposed to be doing. Being invited to speak came with a cost — to me, to the Institute, and to the movement. At the “local” level, we struggled for every dollar, and ultimately I was responsible for the Institute’s survival. This is true for many — arguably, most — frontline women’s rights groups. The Institute, in turn, was responsible for doing the work that needed to be done to support women and girls.

And when I’m speaking at your event, I want to know that women and girls are going to benefit. If not, you’ve wasted my time, and the movement has lost momentum.

We’ve argued time and again about the lack of funding for women’s rights. About the rhetoric that fails to meet reality. We see what happens when we do not fund women’s rights work. Inviting a women’s rights expert to speak is not a tick-box. It is not the same thing as dedicating actual resources to the work.

And we, as women’s rights experts, need to ask for what we deserve. Would an engineer or pharmacist be asked to speak for free? Not likely.

Let’s be clear: there is nothing “soft” about the so-called “softer fields.” This isn’t voluntary. It’s not charity. We have training, experience, technical expertise, decades of knowledge and know-how, field experience, academic credentials and so on… why is that worth less?!

I have a soft spot for this cause, but that’s where it ends. The rest is exploitation.

Ultimately, there are three categories:

1. Those who can pay and won’t.
2. Those who can pay and should.
3. Those who can’t pay — but can benefit.

Category 1: You now know how I feel about you. Goodbye.

Category 2: You’re getting there — bravo.

Category 3: I’ve got you.

I now explain to my Category 2 friends that they are paying not just for themselves, but also to enable me to speak for free to those who can’t afford it — the frontline feminists, the “local” women’s organizations, the girls’ groups. So, Category 2, you get two things: the talk you wanted, and the knowledge that you’ve done some good in the world by enabling me to speak to a group that will benefit in ways that we can’t imagine. And maybe, Category 2, you get so excited by the possibility that you start supporting Category 3 on your own!

How amazing this would be! I know this, because I was Category 3.

So let’s do this: pay us so we can keep doing the stuff that needs doing. We give more when we make more. Trust me.

Women’s rights work should not be emotional labor. I am not a bottomless pit of good will. We deserve to be remunerated just as any technical skill. I am asked to speak for free on a near-daily basis. Next time, I will point to this piece.

I hope others will do the same.