How ‘the Motherhood Penalty’ Plays Out for Startup Founders
My experience fundraising while pregnant made it clear that VCs should reflect the experience of the founders they purport to support
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Midway through a call with a prominent venture capitalist last fall, he asked me, apropos of nothing, if I was pregnant. Previously, we’d been discussing what can broadly be described as “business things” — my nascent idea for a company that would tackle the dated world of corporate training, the trade-offs between starting my own company versus joining one of his startups. This abrupt topic shift caught me off guard. I flashed back to the small plus sign on the pregnancy test I’d taken days before.
Clearly, there was a right answer. “Nope,” I replied, knowing that I was not going to tell this man before I told my own mother. Then, for good measure, I added, “Also, it’s illegal to ask.” I’d been researching employment law because of my corporate training startup and had come across this scenario countless times. Woman interviews for a job, the hiring manager tries to suss out, with varying degrees of deftness, whether she is or will become a mother.
Revenue, team, and market size are all fair game. Womb occupancy status is not.
“This isn’t a job interview,” he countered. Thrown off by the detour to obstetrics, I tried to recall the legal specifics: Was he right? Was it only California law that covered non-employment relationships such as a founder pitching an investor? Why was this happening? When the call ended, I realized the legal details, while a bit murky, were almost beside the point. Revenue, team, and market size are all fair game. Womb occupancy status is not.
When the call ended, I recapped the experience to my husband, certain that the only reason the investor asked was some sort of ambition litmus test; the VC wanted to know if my best days were behind me. We debated for a bit, and while I couldn’t prove the VC’s intent, it was the most logical explanation. “I wasn’t asking for breast pump recommendations,” I hurled across the room, attempting to end the argument, and my husband reluctantly agreed that there wasn’t a great alternative…