Foreword by Shelley Burgess

If you are a woman of just about any age, you probably didn’t give much thought as a child to how you and your girlfriends were treated differently from the boys your age. Maybe you were aware that society held certain expectations for girls and boys, but you grew up how you grew up. And if you’re anything like me, you didn’t think to question society’s double standard; you didn’t even know you could question it.

As a teenage girl in the 80s, Seventeen magazine was my go-to guide for knowing what and who I should aspire to be. Each month, my friends and I would pore over the latest issue. We would spend hours reading our horoscopes, trying the newest makeup techniques and beauty trends, and practicing the flirting tricks that promised: “to capture that special guy’s attention.” And, of course, we would take all the quizzes that told us whether we talked too much, were too clingy, or needed to be more confident. Seventeen and other media like it set the standard for what was pretty enough, thin enough, fashionable enough, good enough, capable enough, or smart enough.

Awareness about gender inequality has increased dramatically since I was a young girl. We’ve seen women’s empowerment movements gain momentum. We’ve cheered for the success some women have had in cracking that glass ceiling. And with all that progress, I would have hoped (and sort of assumed) that we as a society would be paying closer attention to the messages we are sending to our young girls about who they are, how they look, what makes them special, and what they can do and achieve.

With that hope in mind, I recently popped over to the Seventeen magazine website expecting to see something very different from the magazine I grew up reading. I felt certain I would find articles that pushed back on stereotypes and societal norms. I thought I would see stories that encouraged young girls to explore their passions and reach for their best. I hoped I would see pieces about women scientists, athletes, entrepreneurs, and engineers.

Instead, I found these headlines:

“10 Major Signs You’re Really in Love”

“Shawn Mendes Sent His Used Underwear to a Fan, and I’ve Never Been So Jealous of Anyone in My Life”

“How to Get Rid of a Pimple” “Do Hickeys Hurt?”

And these were the quizzes:

“Which Disney Princess Are You?”

“Does Your Crush Like You as More Than a Friend? AKA the Most Frustrating Mystery of ALL Time.”

“How to Become a Good Girlfriend”

“How Well Do You Know Taylor Swift’s Boyfriends?” “Who’s Your One Direction Love Match?”

With the exception of the addition of an LGBTQ tab, I was disheartened at the minimal change in the messages that continue to bombard our young girls. They are constantly told that they are (and should be) measured by their appearance and their success as girlfriends (or worse, princesses). Add in the growing influence of social media, and these persistent messages are almost impossible to escape. Societal pressures to conform to other people’s perceptions of what they should be continue to keep girls from even imagining all they could be.

I can clearly remember the first time I realized people had certain expectations of me because of my gender. I was seventeen years old and had just received my acceptance letter to attend UCLA. I felt capable and confident and ready to conquer the world. I eagerly shared the good news with my grandparents. My grandfather gave me a hug and said something like, “That’s nice, but you shouldn’t bother going to college.” What I really needed, he told me, was to find a nice man to take care of me and raise a good family. For high school graduation, my grandparents gave me a set of silverware complete with steak knives, serving utensils, and a gravy ladle. It all came in a pretty wooden box with a note telling me it was something I could put in my “Hope Chest.”

Similar expectations revealed themselves again when my boss reminded me that, as a young adult, being a woman meant things were different for me. Having successfully proven myself in an administrative role in my school district’s office, I wanted to move into a site administration role where I could work more closely with teachers and students. I scheduled a conversation with my superintendent and shared with him my aspirations to be an assistant principal. He smiled kindly and said that every time he asked a principal whom they would like to have as an assistant principal, I was always one of three top candidates. (Great!) He went on to tell me, however, that the timing wasn’t right because what was most important at that point in my life was that I “care for my family.” (I was visibly pregnant at the time.) He assured me that once I’d had my baby and taken some time off, we could revisit the conversation about the next steps for my career. (What?!)

A few weeks later, I applied for a principalship in a neighboring district,

got the job, and hopefully left that superintendent shaking his head.

As a forty-eight-year-old successful female leader, best-selling author, speaker, business owner, wife, and mother of two teenagers, I have been called “bitch” when I have held people accountable, “arrogant” when I have demonstrated confidence, “emotional” when I just needed to shed a few tears after finishing another sixteen-hour workday without seeing my kids, “cold” when I haven’t been emotional or nurturing enough, and “hysterical” when I just needed to vent. And despite my proven track record and confidence in my abilities, I can still struggle with things like body image, fret over pictures of me posted on social media (especially since I have gained weight), question my ability to be a good mother, and wonder if I am doing enough and doing it all well enough.

Nothing that I read in Seventeen as a girl prepared me for the realities of being a successful woman. And despite all our progress, the messages our girls are getting today from popular magazines and social media haven’t changed much. Neither have the stereotypical and prejudice-laden practices regarding women in the workplace. It’s long-past time for those messages to change and those stereotypes to end.

In Empower Our Girls: Opening the Door for Girls to Achieve More, Adam and Lynn call on us—moms, dads, aunts, uncles, grandparents, teachers, principals, human beings—to say, “enough is enough.” They encourage us to examine our practices, our rules, our procedures, our behaviors, and our language to determine if we are doing our part to help eradicate the gender bias that exists in our society and our schools. They also point out things we may be doing, even if unintentionally, that are contributing to the pressures and preconceptions that prevent girls from reaching for their full potential. And then they challenge us to take action, right now.

The authors have invited several women (along with a few men) to share their stories and perspectives on how we can be intentional about shifting the conversation. Some of what you read may surprise you and make you wonder how such outdated and irrational thinking could persist in our modern society. Other stories will inspire you to find ways to challenge girls to break down the perceived barriers that have been built by those messages they hear so often.

If a girl wants to raise a family as a stay-at-home mom, the message in Empower Our Girls is that she should have that freedom, without judgment. And if a girl wants to be an astronaut, a business owner, an engineer, or a coding-writing master, she should be encouraged to pursue those avenues as well, regardless of whether she also wants to have a family.

The point is, there are no limits to what girls can accomplish, and it’s our job to make sure they know that. It’s our job to Empower Our Girls.