“We’re here if you need a shoulder to cry on.” Had I heard him correctly? Was that really his response to my very brief summary of five months as editor in chief? The moderator had invited new editors in chief for a chat on Teams and wanted to know how I’d been getting on so far. “Takes some getting used to,” I said. “I’ve always been a colleague, a team member, and now I have to be a leader. But I’m struggling the most with my writing time. I only took on this job on the understanding that I would still be able to interview people, dive into subjects, write, stay curious and be creative.” I have yet to find the right balance.
What the moderator could have said – as most people do when I share my experiences as editor in chief – was: “You’ll be alright, it takes time”, “You have to keep writing, find a way”, or simply, “That’s a shame”. Would he have offered his shoulder to a new male editor in chief too? I don’t know, because there wasn’t one there.
If I’m honest, I don’t often hear condescending comments like that. Thank goodness. Unless people are doing it behind my back. That’s possible, but then I can’t hear them, so it doesn’t bother me. Which is great.
Do you know what is even better? The latest book by Japke-d. Bouma, columnist for NRC (I’m a big fan, so you’ll probably see her name crop up a lot). In Een vrouw als baas geeft alleen maar gezeik [A woman in charge is nothing but trouble], she has a lot to say about sexism. The time for being nice and smiling sweetly has passed, women need to learn to open their mouths and put an end to sexism, she argues. Why? “Because it only marginalises and limits women.” Not to mention, “Ignoring it is no longer an option.” So, next time, don’t ignore it, I tell myself sternly. But what would be a good response? Armed with a few concrete examples from Bouma, I imagine I’m back in that Teams meeting in October. A dialogue emerges. I say: ‘Excuse me, what is this stupid comment about needing a shoulder to cry on’, he responds: ‘Just a joke’ and I say: ‘Jokes are supposed to be funny, aren’t they?’
I hesitate and think of something that would work even better. Sending Bouma’s book as a Sinterklaas present on 5 December. And don’t come crying to me if you don’t like it.
The editor-in-chief gives a look behind the scenes at the editorial office