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  • I have been watching Mad Men and although those days were before my time, things were not too much different for me in the early 70's.

    I got a job at Citibank after the now famous "take off my pants" incident reported at http://cowbird.com/author/liliana-nealon/stories/#!/26634.

    I was hired as an "Official Assistant". No men had this job. I assisted a man who was an "Assistant Cashier", in effect a credit analyst. I was lucky that the overall boss was a woman, about my mother's age, Virginia Maynard, and she about to become one of only two women Vice Presidents. I owe her everything, but that's another "sprout".

    At one point, my direct boss went away without submitting a credit application for the Government of Ecuador. Virginia told me to go ahead and do it myself. Now, here was a young woman who had majored in French, being told to do a credit report, for which she had had absolutely no training. I went to all woman's college, and they never offerered any practical classes, like Economics or Finance or Accounting. Girls were groomed to graduate and marry.

    So there I was, sitting in front of a jumble of numbers and balance sheets which I had never seen before. I had a sixth sense for numbers, that I knew, but had no clue what I was doing.

    Looking at my boss' Credit Application for the previous year, I decided to just essentially copy it, just updating the numbers. I am not saying it was easy. It wasn't. I am not saying I didn't sweat. I did. I have always been a good writer, so I actually changed the "copy" to my liking, and ended up with a new Credit Application, which went right to committee (of course with my boss' signature) and was approved.

    It may have been at that moment that I realized I could do a man's job as well as a man, maybe better. What I didn't know then was that I would never get paid the same.

    He estado mirando el programa Mad Men, y aunque sea de otra época, las cosas no cambiaron mucho para mi en los años de los '70.

    Fuí a trabajar Citibank después del famoso incidente cuando me saqué los pantalones. http://cowbird.com/author/liliana-nealon/stories/#!/26634.

    Me tomaron como "Asistente Oficial". No había ningún hombre con este título. Asistía a un hombre que era "Assitant Cashier", un analista de crédito. Tuve suerte, porque la jefa de todos era una mujer, Virginia Maynard, que en esa época tendría la edad de mi mamá. A ella la estaban por promover, y llegaría a ser una de dos mujeres vice-presidentes en el banco. A ella, le debo todo, pero esa es otra historia.

    Un día, mi jefe se fué de vacaciones, olvidándose de presentar una aplicación de crédito para el Gobierno del Ecuador. Virginia me dijo que la prepare yo. Bueno, para una chica licenciado en Francés, que me dijeran que haga un reporte de crédito, era bastante insólito: nunca había aprendido nada de eso.

    Fuí a una universidad de mujeres, dónde no daban ninguna clase práctica, ni economía, ni finanzas, ni contabilidad. A las chicas se las preparaba para recibirse, y casarse.

    Y yo ahí, sentada en frente de una mescolanza de números y balances. Yo sabía que tenía buen olfato para los números, pero no tenía la menor idea de como hacer ésto. Pero, mirando al trabajo de mi jefe del año anterior, decidí copiarlo todo, solamente cambiando los números.

    No digo que haya sido fácil. No lo fué. No digo que no transpiré. Lo hice. A parte, como siempre me gustó escribir, cambié muchas de las palabras y expresiones y terminé con una hermosa y flamante aplicación de crédito, que se mandó de inmediato al comité de crédito, y se aprobó sin ningún problema.

    Puede haber sido en ese momento que me dí cuenta que yo era capaz de hacer el trabajo de un hombre. Lo que no sabía en ese momento fue que nunca me pagarían lo mismo que ellos.
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