Page 100 - How We Lead Matters

Something to Prove

The only venue we could find in 1998 to accommodate the huge turnout was
the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. We had invited more than 4,000 employees,
customers, partners, and family members to share with us the moment my
father would turn over the reins of the company to me. Former President
George H. W. Bush would speak. Wayne Newton would sing. It would be a
mega-event.
As an acknowledgment of my becoming one of only a handful of female
CEOs of a global company, the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds invited me to
be the first “female CEO” to fly in an F-16. My company’s vice president of
public relations, Doug Cody, seized on the idea and insisted that a small cam-
era be mounted in front of me during the flight. The footage would open the
event.
The idea soon lost its appeal when my Thunderbird pilot briefed me.
He cheerfully delivered the news that only 20 percent of the passengers make
the trip without getting sick. I determined right then and there that I had to
be the one in five since all eyes were on me.
After the initial rush of the takeoff, I looked back over my shoulder at
the earth shrinking behind me. “Where would we do the maneuvers?” I asked
into my helmet’s microphone. The pilot responded that that would happen
when we were over Death Valley. “Oh, great,” I thought.
We rolled and looped and did straight up and down vertical maneu-
vers—the only thing we hadn’t done was “pull 9Gs.”
I said, “Let’s go for it.”
Let me just say, I am grateful that I never have to experience that
“thrill” again. I wanted to do it for my Carlson colleagues, but I felt obliged to
do it on behalf of the female CEOs of the world. And I did do it—without
retrieving the plastic bag from my flight suit.
For obvious reasons, I welcome gender parity. But there’s a less obvious
reason: There’s just too much pressure when you’re “one of a handful.” It’s
almost enough to make you sick.

Marilyn Carlson Nelson 83