The hidden gender: why I changed my name to Lewis

I’m sitting in a boardroom with a prospective client. He’s seen my reel and is keen to collaborate. We exchange pleasantries and after what seems like a lot of small talk, he finally asks, “So when’s the director arriving?” 

I let him know that I am the director. “No, when’s Lewis arriving?” I told him that I am Lewis. It takes a beat for him to fully comprehend the situation, then things get awkward. This man was looking to do business with another man. Not a woman.

Women have been hiding their identities throughout history.

When I was launching myself as a TV commercial director, it was a real boys’ club. Female directors were scarce, and the ones who were working were often tasked with stereotypical projects – feminine hygiene, diaper ads. You know, ‘woman stuff’. That didn’t really align with my particular flavour of dark humour. 

A female writer and I once wrote scripts for a client but weren’t allowed to present them because he didn’t want women on his business.

In fact, the only fem-hygiene ad I ever made, back when I was an Art Director, featured a tampon and a wine bottle. Yes, red wine. It won a Bronze Cannes Lion, and it was also banned from TV. Go figure.

Lewis's humorous work for PETsMART.

While women were more accepted inside ad agencies at the time, I too had experienced those moments of not-so-subtle discrimination as an Art Director. 

A female writer and I once wrote scripts for a client but weren’t allowed to present them because he didn’t want women on his business, so the male team pitched our work instead. And the presentation just happened to be at a strip club. So yeah, I knew how tough the ad industry could be on women and expected that becoming a successful director would be an uphill battle.

I refrained from using photos of myself in online profiles, and my EPs intentionally avoided using pronouns.

That’s why I dropped my first name and became simply ‘Lewis’ so my gender wouldn’t get in the way of being taken seriously. This was hardly a novel approach; women have been hiding their identities throughout history. 

One of the most iconic films of the 80s, The Outsiders, was based on the novel by S.E. Hinton. When the book was published in 1967, she chose to use only her initials in an effort to get unbiased reviews. 

I wasn’t hiding my gender per se, my identity was just … curated. It was easier to be mysterious then – nobody did video calls. 

Similarly, Jane Eyre was first released under the name Currer Bell and received critical acclaim. Yet once the author was revealed to be Charlotte Bronte, bad reviews started flowing in. All the Bronte sisters used pen names, as did George Eliot, Harper Lee … the list goes on.

A wry glimpse into celeb-level opulence for NC Lotto.

Armed with the name Lewis, I built my reel to showcase what I bring to the table: beautiful imagery contrasted with smart, self-deprecating humour. I refrained from using photos of myself in online profiles, and my EPs intentionally avoided using pronouns. 

People would mostly assume I was a guy, until we talked on the phone or met in person. 

I wasn’t hiding my gender per se, my identity was just … curated. It was easier to be mysterious then—nobody did video calls. People would mostly assume I was a guy, until we talked on the phone or met in person. This was a way to get my foot in the door. And it worked. Clients responded well to my unconventional approach to comedy, and I started booking jobs. Interesting ones.

Around 2015, I started meeting with US production companies about representation. Even though I was well-established in Canada, it was like being back at square one. I found that while many places were interested in signing me, it was as a ‘woman director’ – a proverbial box to check for their roster. It felt lousy to be categorised based on my gender and not my abilities or accomplishments.

The #MeToo movement was a turning point. People actually started to become aware of how gender plays into their decision-making.

But then the industry started to shift. Director Alma Har’el started Free The Bid (now Free The Work), bringing together a database of directors identifying as women, and challenging clients and agencies to consider pitching at least one female for every job. Then came the #MeToo movement, which was a turning point. People actually started to become aware of how gender plays into their decision-making. Companies began to see the work we were producing and recognise the value in it.