* * *
Ann’s work situation was in flux too. She had been promoted to deputy editor and was excited when the magazine brought in a new editor in chief—one who really respected Ann’s skills and opinions as his second in command. For a while, things were pretty good. But when that editor announced he was leaving, the magazine’s founders told Ann that she would not be promoted to replace him. She knew she was only 29, but she’d seen young men with comparable experience given the opportunity to lead a magazine. She couldn’t imagine sticking around—at the magazine or in this city—if there was little chance she could advance.
This realization would kick off a period, lasting from 2010 to 2016, during which one or both of us moved almost every year, crisscrossing the country in search of better job prospects. We were all over the place. When we hit a roadblock that we couldn’t push through, we looked for a new path. Sometimes it was because we wanted to shift the focus of our careers. Sometimes it was because we wanted a salary bump or a better position, and we could see we were never going to get it from our current employer. The roadblocks weren’t all in our minds. Years later we would read a report based on data from more than 600 companies, which found that women are less likely than men to be promoted internally. No wonder we both felt like we had to jump around in order to move up.
In Ann’s case, she knew she needed a change—or several big ones, all at once. Although she loved being an editor, she had been saying since childhood that she wanted to be a writer. And even though she cared about politics, she was sick of editing extremely dry articles about disagreements within the labor movement and the finer points of foreign policy. She didn’t see herself landing a staff-writing job. (Although we’ll never know! She didn’t apply for any.) So despite her frequent rants about sexism and ageism, she was ultimately OK with not getting the promotion to executive editor. If she was honest with herself, Ann didn’t want to head into her 30s with a job that was going nowhere in a city she had never loved.
So she quit.
Even though her savings account was barely full enough to cover a snack run to Whole Foods, it seemed like the time to go freelance. “Self-employed” sounded even better than “funemployed,” right? She had a small editing contract with her previous employer that would pay the rent for a while. Now that she could work from anywhere, she packed up her reliable Honda sedan and set off for Austin, Texas—a move that would cut her rent in half and get her out of DC.
It seems like this should have been a huge issue for our friendship. After all, Ann wouldn’t just be leaving town; she would be leaving her chosen family. Aminatou could have been upset that Ann decided to move away. But Aminatou wholeheartedly supported the move because she understood what it represented for her friend. Ann had always been sour on DC, and Aminatou wanted her to be happy. She knew Ann would want the same for her but she still cried watching her drive away.
Just a few weeks into self-employment, Ann was already pushing down her money panic. She tried to focus on the positives—no bosses! working without a bra on!—but she couldn’t envision how she’d make it work long-term without a staff job. Her bank statement was all debits and no credits.
Then a deus ex Gmail arrived. It was from the founder of a magazine in Los Angeles. Was Ann interested in applying for an executive editor position? Ann might have screamed when she read it. Or maybe she gasped. She doesn’t remember. What’s certain is that she immediately called Aminatou. This was huge. It was a position based in California, a place she’d always wanted to return to—even if it meant leaving Austin and her freelance experiment after only a month. A title like executive editor was a major step up. But it was more than that: it was Ann’s chance to prove she could do this boss-level job better than all the people for whom she’d worked in the past. She was exhilarated and intimidated all at once. Like Aminatou, Ann was familiar with the frustration of underemployment, and she knew she was capable of so much more. She didn’t want to blow this opportunity.
Ann had always relied on Aminatou not just as a close friend but as someone to turn to for professional advice and support. This job opportunity presented a whole new set of challenges, and from the moment the email arrived Ann was leaning on Aminatou harder than ever. After a quick call with her potential new employer, Ann learned that the job involved overseeing a million-dollar budget, developing a new editorial strategy, hiring a whole team of editors and writers, and, ultimately, being responsible for drawing thousands of new readers to the magazine. Her friends assured her that, duh, she could absolutely handle all of this—in fact, she was the perfect person for the job. (In retrospect, Ann was right to be concerned. This was six jobs folded into one!)
A week later Ann flew to Los Angeles for the interview, a day long series of meetings with every single person at the small company, without even a bathroom break. At one point the founder asked her to draw out an editorial org chart on a whiteboard in the meeting room, right there on the spot. By the end of the day, with sweat stains ringing the pits of her boss-lady silk blouse, Ann called Aminatou from her rental car in tears because she was sure she’d messed up and would never get a job offer. Even later that night, after her friend on staff told her that everyone had liked her, Ann didn’t believe him.
A few days later, though, the offer arrived. Ann took a second to celebrate, then steeled herself. It was time to negotiate.
With the confidence of someone who’s always reading business books and watching Shark Tank, Aminatou assured Ann that this new job was a six-figure level of responsibility. Plus Ann should get her moving costs covered, and maybe a signing bonus.
ANN: i don’t even know how to ask for a signing bonus!
AMINATOU: girl i only recently started making over 35k. do we need to tweet suze orman for advice?
This is something that separates close friends from mentors or workplace confidantes. It wasn’t that Ann viewed Aminatou as a guru who knew everything about the art of professional negotiation. What was important to Ann was Aminatou’s presence with her in the confusion. In fact, Aminatou had only recently learned from her friend Antoine what a moving bonus even was.
ANTOINE: ask for twice as much. They’ll say no if they can’t afford it. Oh also ask for a moving bonus!
AMINATOU: a bonus for moving??? THAT IS A THING?? How come men just feel entitled to all this stuff we are too shy to ask for. MERCI BB
Ann decided, with Aminatou and her other friends cheering her on, that she would ask for the unimaginable annual salary of… [RuPaul voice] $100,000. Aminatou couldn’t keep a straight face whenever we said the number out loud, but she was proud of Ann for asking for her worth. The next day Ann emailed Aminatou and the other friends who had been helping her strategize:
i just accepted the job. i fought for the $100k salary and got it (plus $2500 for moving costs and a $10k bonus if i meet traffic goals).
i start april 1. i never ever could have done it without you. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
love,
Ann Friedman
Executive Editor
What a nerd.
Then a whole new type of panic set it: not whether she would get the job, not how much she would be paid for it, but whether she was actually able to do it well. What if I fail? The question was always lurking in the back of her mind. But Ann got to work making budgets and hiring plans, falling asleep every night with her laptop in bed.