I worked at Goldman Sachs for many years. During that time, my team was led by a senior white male manager for whom caregiving responsibilities were invisible. Advancement and favor were routinely afforded to those who could remain in the office until he chose to leave. As a working parent required to leave at a fixed time to collect my toddler from daycare, I was disadvantaged.
A different message was reinforced at higher levels. My manager’s supervisor – a senior female leader who later joined Citi – advised me to wear lipstick and high heels if I wanted to be taken seriously.
While I was pregnant with my second child, my team was restructured. My manager sought to reassign me to a different team under a significantly more junior colleague. I objected. I was then reassigned to another junior manager instead. That team had no meaningful work for me. It was clear to me that I was being penalized for having caregiving responsibilities.
Soon afterward, the new team announced plans to relocate to another city, a move I could not make. While I was on maternity leave, I was instructed to find another role internally. At that time, no positions at my level were available in my city. Then the pandemic hit. I was laid off.
Throughout this period, the feedback I received was consistent and corrosive: I was told I was not enough. Not loud enough, not agreeable enough, not dedicated enough, not good enough. I was told I was too intense. It was a deeply demoralizing experience—and one that reflects how banking structures and cultures continue to marginalize caregivers, particularly working mothers.