What Recreating Iconic RBG Image Taught Me about Overcoming Adversity as a Human, Equality, Justice, Imposter Syndrome & Myself

There’s no way for me to travel to DC and pay my respects to Ruth Bader Ginsburg amidst COVID pandemic, so I wanted to honour her legacy some other way. I. found my “Collar of Dissent”dress in my closet. I’ve worn it to so many professional engagements since 2013, including to the House of Lords, but It never occurred to me, why I’d wear it whenever I wanted to feel powerful.

I tied my hair in a bun (my “serious lady” hairstyle of choice for at least a decade), put on lace gloves (that strangely fit me since the 2nd grade) and took a painfully unnatural pose in front of a smartphone camera. If I wanted to say something with that picture, I needed to have a “powerful” posture, right? Women are socialised to believe we need to make ourselves visibly bigger to be listened to, even when we are inspired by the soft power of a rather petite-looking “giant”.

Although it was my own old attire, I felt uncomfortable in it this time around. I no longer felt like myself in it. Instead, I felt like someone, who was literally trying to fit into someone’s legendary gloves. The voice of self-doubt started kicking in: “What was I even doing? Who gave me the right to somehow recreate Sebastian Kim’s iconic “TIME” image?”

My mum, whom I’m staying with during this pandemic, was uncharacteristically unsupportive as she was trying to capture my photo: “Yelena, what is it? This woman knows something we all don’t! Something you don’t know either judging by your picture”

I felt lost: “How can it be? The whole reason I wanted to do it, was because of how much I could relate to this woman, how much her story meant to me”Convinced that it must have been a bad idea after all, we dived into a conversation and mum said: “God, can you imagine, all of that and she’s on the cover of “TIME” in her 80s?”In a split of a second, tears started pouring down my face. As I nodded, I could only whisper: “They wouldn’t even give her a job, she went to academia”.

As I was drowning myself in tears, I thought of her, but also of myself. I wasn’t even born yet back in the mid-20th century, but her story was all too familiar to me. In my 21st century life, with 4 degrees from 3 universities, I was also told to my face that. “I was the most qualified candidate for the job, but I getting it wasn’t in the cards for me”. Not once. Not twice. Multiple times before I found my humble version of success.

It’s not only gender stereotypes I had to combat in my case. The whole bundle of stereotypes led me down my unconventional path. Academia was also a refuge for me in so many ways. My unconventional path has led me to the kind of scholarships, awards and experiences that would never happen if I was on traditional path. I don’t think I would meet the likes of Angela Merkel, or have my articles published alongside Nobel Laureates and other heroes of mine. Most of all, I don’t think I would ever feel like my work matters to society quite as much.

My adversity has led me towards the path of impact, but also of incredible self-worth. I don’t think anyone will ever be as notorious as Notorious RBG. Nevertheless, thinking that we all can turn our adversities into impact and success made me smile with my puffed up eyes. As I was thinking about her, about myself, and about millions of us (men and women alike), who battle stereotypes and preconceived notions before we find our versions of success, I smiled. My puffed up eyes letting my guard down, finally openly displaying what it is that I know too. I didn’t know though that I’ve built a bulletproof wall to never let this out.

I smiled. We are all Ruth-less now, but she’s [with] us. She’s in those of us, who is no stranger to adversity and injustice, whatever it might look like for us. It’s upon us to wear our individual collars of dissent. Both literally and figuratively. And part of it is letting guard down about the way we feel about it. Part of it is letting myself be seen vulnerable.