After a historic night of “firsts” for women in Tuesday’s elections—Virginia’s first female governor; the first Muslim woman elected to statewide office in Virginia; an all-women transition team in NYC; and Detroit electing its first woman mayor—it didn’t surprise me that the very next day brought a New York Times headline asking, “Did Women Ruin the Workplace?” (later softened to “Did Liberal Feminism Ruin the Workplace?”).
When I became the first woman to lead the New York City Fire Department, and the youngest in more than a century, most stories also zeroed in on the “first.” They also pointed out the things I didn’t share with my male predecessors, but failed to mention all the experience I had that they lacked.
We still treat women at the helm as exceptions and judge them by a blueprint built for men. The question isn’t whether a “perfect” woman can endure the old rules; it’s whether we’re willing to rewrite them.
Take the FDNY. The image is an iconic one: a broad-shouldered firefighter charging into a burning building, hauling people to safety. That’s absolutely part of the work—and it always will be. However, the vast majority of our city’s emergency calls involve responding to complex emergencies, many of which are medical crises. Nationwide, only about 4% of calls are fire-related—a statistic that bears out similarly in NYC. On any given day, the FDNY treats cardiac arrests, overdoses, and mental-health episodes; they steady panicked families; and they coordinate multi-agency responses. What many label “soft” skills are actually mission-critical hard skills. Despite the Commissioner’s job being an executive one, not a first responder, I was often asked why I was wearing a suit instead of a uniform, or assumed to be a wife rather than the boss.
In NYC, less than 2% of firefighters are women. You read that right: Less than two out of every hundred firefighters are women. And even those small numbers are historically high, thanks to recent years of recruiting, training, and retention efforts—and progress is still a steep uphill climb.
So I know a little something about walking into rooms that weren’t built with you in mind. For women—especially those who are Black or brown, queer or trans, disabled, or immigrants—the unspoken choice is familiar: conform and be accused of not doing enough, or push for change and be labeled a “troublemaker”or “not a culture fit.”
I’ll say the quiet part out loud: it can be deeply lonely to be “the only.” Not just for lack of peers, but the constant second-guessing of your qualifications and how much of your true self you’re “allowed” to reveal.
Research backs this. When women take charge, they are seen as competent, but less likeable; when they show care, they are liked, but seen as less competent.
What needs to change
So how do we change the rules?
First, be honest about the job. When leaders are clear about what success actually requires—empathy plus expertise, composure plus courage—we widen the opportunities for who gets seen as “right for it.” That’s not lowering standards; it’s aligning them with the reality of the work. A wider pool means stronger competition.
Second, women’s lived experiences are not “baggage.” What reads as “character-building”—life choices, wins and losses, strong opinions—in a man are too often framed as liabilities for women. We overscrutinize the “perfect” woman because scarcity puts almost mythic expectations on each female candidate.
The fix isn’t to produce a flawless woman at the top. It’s more women at every level—hire, retain, promote—so a woman in charge is unremarkable. So that there is a style of women’s leadership for every type of job and challenge. Decades of studies show women in leadership increase productivity, enhance collaboration, inspire organizational dedication, and improve outcomes for everyone.
This week’s election offers the blueprint: put more women in positions of power and let them get to work. This is a cultural shift that benefits both men and women, making our communities and workplaces healthier and more successful.
And finally, we should build scaffolding, not silos. Mentorship, sponsorship, peer networks, and leadership training are the beams that carry weight over time.
When you’re the only woman in a male-dominated field, isolation can become a survival tactic. On day one I was warned: don’t talk to other women in front of the men—they’ll assume you’re scheming, and you’ll pay for it. How can we possibly recruit and retain women when those are the terms? At the Women inPower Fellowship at 92NY’s Belfer Center for Innovation & Social Impact, I found a space where I could be honest about the hard parts and still be taken seriously.
Speaking at last month’s Women inPower Summit was a reminder of how much power and energy are unlocked when women compare notes across sectors. To this day, my fellowship cohort remains my support system, and we encourage each other to speak openly so that we can improve the path not just for ourselves, but for the women who come after us.
If you’re one of the “onlys” in the room, start small and notice what systems weren’t built for you. Bring a colleague who’s never been in the room. Pass the mic to someone who rarely speaks up. Influence isn’t a pay grade; it’s a practice. And when you reach that top job—because many of you will—remember that it isn’t that you don’t belong in that room. It’s that the room has never belonged to someone like you before. Make it yours.
“Firsts” are milestones, not finish lines. What matters is what we change once we get there—and how many more can follow.
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