Kacie Peters
By Kacie Peters, regional sales manager, Alta Energy
This article originally appeared on Kacie Peters’ LinkedIn page.
Author’s note: This story is part of a larger collection on gender equity in the renewable energy space from WRISE: Women of Renewable Industries and Sustainable Energy (formerly WoWE). “Find Her Keep Her” outlines the difficulties and best practices for firms to recruit and retain women. Join us as we kick off this initiative and learn more about our best practices on our webinar on June 27.
I joined the solar industry on somewhat of a whim back in 2010 working for an up-and-coming residential installer out of Delaware. Since then I’ve been employed at five (technically seven, but that’s another post) solar firms in three time zones. Only two of those companies still exist without a bankruptcy or asset sale, and I’m working at one of them right now. The solar industry is anything but steady.
Most of my employers had less than 20 employees, and I was frequently the only woman on staff. Each company that failed (through no fault of mine) was a chance for me to learn, and every job change was an opportunity to climb another rung of the corporate ladder. And that worked well for me until my husband and I wanted to start a family.
Peters and her family.
I consulted with my employer at the time and negotiated a six-week paid leave, just in case I needed it… but then I was approached with a new job offer of a lifetime: Significantly increased salary and 16 weeks paid maternity leave with no waiting period! The job was risky, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to increase my experience and grow my career. And besides, my husband and I only had a dog and an apartment—what’s the worst thing that could happen if I lost the job?
After a month with the larger firm, it became clear that there would likely be a bankruptcy event. My husband and I agreed it was best to hold off on trying for a baby, but it was too late. All of a sudden I realized that I was pregnant and that I may soon be out of a job.
My colleagues were getting resumes in order and beginning to negotiate for new, exciting positions. They could demand great salaries or leadership roles without any baggage.
I froze.
Under the Family Medical Leave Act, a company must hold your position for 12 weeks once you have a baby, but you need to be there for a full year and the company had to have more than 50 employees to qualify. Obviously, no matter the size of the firm, I was too late to qualify for the 1-year employment period. Legally, employers couldn’t ask about my pregnancy during an interview, but they could fire me once I took time off to have my child. So, I had to bring up the pregnancy during my negotiations or risk having a short-term job and potentially hurting my reputation with any firm that offered me a position.
My male colleagues had the same level of experience as me. They were just as talented and driven as me. They could walk into an interview and lead with salary requirements that continued to push them up the corporate ladder. I, on the other hand, was handicapped. I knew what I was worth, but along with negotiating a salary, I also had to request six weeks off to heal medically after giving birth. And if I had to do that, was I settling for a lower pay that would ultimately cap future earnings? Raises and promotions are tied to your base pay, so in 10 years, would this “settling” on salary put me $5,000 behind my former colleagues? $10,000? What does that do to lifetime earnings? All this grief because I had a medical condition that required me to heal for six weeks (not to mention bonding time) that I needed to disclose during negotiations.
Peters’ son helping out at her home office.
Five months into my pregnancy, I had no choice. My department was cut and I needed to act fast if I was going to start work at any firm for a good length of time before needing to take time off. Working a month and then asking to leave for six weeks is generally frowned upon. I could either get a job now or take a seven-month break—a choice we couldn’t afford.
I love my current position, and they were accommodating once I told them the situation late in the hiring process. I was lucky, but I feel for other women out there who may be in this position because of the “solar coaster.”
Current federal laws assume certainty and stability from an employer: You need to be at the company for three months before getting pregnant in order to be there for a year when your due date comes around, and your company must employ 50 people or more to qualify for unpaid leave. Certainty and stability aren’t two words associated with solar. With the volatility in the industry, who knows when your firm may be subject to closure or when your next great opportunity will be at a company with less than 50 people?
Is the risk worth the reward? Perhaps the answer is different for men and women in solar.