Troublemaker: A Memoir of Sexism, Retaliation, and the Fight They Didn't See Coming

Foreword

THOUGH GOLF IS a big part of Lisa Cornwell’s story, this is not a golf book. You will appreciate it even if you’ve never played a round before.

I’m not an unbiased observer. I’ve known Lisa since she was a little girl in Arkansas, coming to our family Christmas parties at the Governor’s mansion in Little Rock. Lisa is Bill’s cousin by way of his grandmother Eula Mea Cornwell Clinton, whose family came to Arkansas from Mississippi on a wagon in 1898. There are lots of Cornwells in Arkansas now. Bill got to know them, including Lisa’s parents, when they were young, and became friends. Most of the Cornwells were outgoing, high-spirited, and loved politics.

Even as a child, Lisa was a standout example. I’ll never forget walking into our bedroom during one of the family parties to find little Lisa and her cousin in my closet trying on my coats. They were embarrassed, but I loved it, and never outed them to their parents. When Bill was elected President, I gave him a new set of Ping irons to go into the beautiful golf bag with the Presidential seal that Lisa had given him. He loved them, and for years afterward, Bill and Lisa tried to get me interested in golf without success. It’s a hard game.

So is life. That’s what this book is about.

When I was in law school, I developed a passion for empowering women, improving the lives of children, and strengthening families. I once chaired a committee for the American Bar Association, dedicated to achieving equal opportunity for women lawyers. And in 1995, when the U.N. Secretary General asked me to keynote the U.N.’s Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing, the one sentence that captured the imagination of people and inspired them to action was, If there is one message that echoes forth from the conference, let it be that human rights are women’s rights and women’s rights are human rights, once and for all.

In the years since, a lot of progress has been made, but as Lisa’s book shows, there’s still a long way to go. Thankfully, gutsy women are still at it the world over, and especially in the U.S. after the repeal of Roe v. Wade.

Lisa Cornwell is one of them. When she finished her college golf career, she decided that the endless travel of professional golf wasn’t for her, and she went to work in sports broadcasting, eventually working her way up to Golf Channel. Bill loved watching her, because she knows so much about the game and the players. But she was also determined to use her platform to push for more equal treatment for women golfers. As you’ll read, that’s what finally turned her workplace from merely challenging, to toxic, driving her out of the job she loved and worked hard at, even to the very end.

Sadly, her experience is not uncommon and still too often unreported. Now, after years of causing what my late friend Congressman John Lewis called good trouble for others, Lisa, always a champion of the underdog, in the end had to stand up for herself—which is often a much harder task, especially when there’s a media giant on the other side. That’s what she’s done with Troublemaker.

This is a thought-provoking, brave book, by a woman I liked as a little girl who grew up to be intelligent, honest, and strong. Reading it will make all of us more sensitive to discrimination still hiding in plain sight.

Hillary Rodham Clinton

February 2023

Introduction

We just think he’s better than you.

—Mark Summer, Sr. Director Golf Central (December 2018)

I WROTE THOSE WORDS on a piece of paper the day they were said to me and have had them taped to my computer at home ever since. How many women have heard comments like this from their bosses and felt unable to respond because of the person who said it? I’m usually not one to be at a loss for words, but I was that day. Even though I knew what Mark said wasn’t true, it was still jarring to hear because the person who said it held all the cards…and had all the power.

On January 1, 2021, I finally put it out there. I’d wanted to speak publicly for a long time—about the injustices, the bullying, the nepotism, the discrimination, and the lies. There was so much I needed to say for all of us. The problem was, as a public television personality, I had to abide by their rules, mainly because of my contract. One wrong move, and I knew they’d come after me for violating our agreement.

Here’s why: in 2019, after six successful years as an on-air personality for Golf Channel, owned by Comcast/NBCUniversal, I was being forced out. I’d been removed from assignments and was eventually demoted from a full-time employee to a freelance reporter, despite having nothing but positive reviews and a large following of golf fans who respected my work. Their reasoning? Budget. Of course it was. It’s the all-too-convenient excuse that companies give when they can’t say otherwise.

The real reason I was being forced out? Because I spoke up. There were way too many issues of inequality and unfair treatment to remain silent. As a result, I became a thorn in the side of many on the management team, and slowly, I started noticing that my studio days were being reduced and certain assignments were being taken away. The following year, I was demoted.

But instead of crawling into a corner (which I sometimes wanted to do), I decided to challenge what was very clearly a case of retaliation—as you’ll learn in great detail in the pages ahead. Later that year, in December 2019, I hired a lawyer named Tom Mars to represent me. Tom spent seven and a half years as Walmart’s general counsel and two years running the company’s HR department, so I had no doubt I was in good hands. In March 2020, we filed our first—of what would eventually become two—federal EEOC complaints citing several counts of discrimination and retaliation in the workplace while I still had a part-time, contractual job with the company.

It was career suicide. I knew it. Tom knew it. My family knew it. And at the time, writing a book about this experience wasn’t even on my radar. But I was so far past the point of worrying about the aftermath and repercussions. What had happened to me—and dozens and dozens of other women at the network, I would soon learn—had to be exposed. Nine months later, I was terminated.

For anyone thinking this is a golf book, it isn’t. Yes, there are many references to golf because that was my job, and it’s been a huge part of my life since I was a little girl. But the heart and soul of this book is addressing the real-life struggles women continue to face in the workplace—and that workplace can be in any industry, not just sports—and it must change. The only way I know to stop it is to talk about it as much and as openly as we can.

Now, more than two and a half years into this journey, I understand why women don’t take on these battles against big corporations. They’re expensive, they drag on forever, and they’ll beat you down in a hurry. The character assassinations that Golf Channel/NBCUniversal has delivered in its EEOC responses alone would be enough to make anyone question herself and her abilities. I’ll admit, I’ve allowed it to happen from time to time. But then I go back and re-read the messages I’ve received—from former co-workers to complete strangers—supporting this mission and reminding me that not only was I good at my job but, more importantly, I was fully dedicated to it even in the end when they continued to retaliate against me.

This book, and this battle, is for all the women who didn’t have the support or the ability to take on Goliath. I promise to spend the rest of my life helping anyone who needs an ally in this arena as much as possible. It’s also for the young girls who will unfortunately face this type of treatment in the workplace one day. I want them to know they’re stronger than they realize and are supported by hundreds of thousands of women all around the world.

Authors’ Note

THROUGHOUT MY LIFE, I’ve stood up to bullies and those in authority who’ve had this uncanny ability to push people around and get away with it. When I was a freshman in college, I watched a large man hit a little woman as hard as he could in the face with a closed fist. Seconds later, I took matters into my own hands…with a 3-iron. I wasn’t about to let him get away with what he did to that poor girl back then, just as I refuse to turn my back on any type of discrimination or unfair treatment today. As a result, I’ve been called a troublemaker more times than I can count. Why is it that women who stand up for themselves and others often get this label?

Recently, the public has been exposed to a series of sexual harassment cases involving high-profile, powerful men. In an era of unprecedented media sensationalism, the acrimonious downfalls of Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, Matt Lauer, Les Moonves, Charlie Rose, and Andrew Cuomo have dominated the news cycles. While these shocking situations are worthy of close attention and fierce examination, it’s important to recognize that most of the discriminatory acts committed against women have nothing to do with sex and are oftentimes just as abusive.

From homemakers to high-ranking executives, women are routinely taught that our input isn’t welcome and when we do speak up, there are potential risks involved. This type of social repudiation forces a toxic choice upon us—either learn to keep quiet or kiss our chances of upward mobility goodbye.

During my seven years as an on-air host and reporter at Golf Channel, I made some powerful enemies by being a strong advocate for equality and fairness. Those enemies eventually conspired to push me and other women out because we refused to stay silent.

As of January 1, 2021, the first day I was no longer under contract with the network, my experiences have been well-documented. I’ve revealed some deep, dark secrets of a misogynistic culture—one where bullies and members of the boys’ club got ahead while those of us who challenged the system got cast aside.

Soon after making my story public, upwards of 30 women contacted me privately about their own encounters and mistreatment. Unfortunately, most of these women have been unable to speak out because of nondisclosure agreements they signed after losing their jobs in order to receive a severance package. Others feared that voicing their struggles would blackball them in the industry moving forward. Trust me, I understand. Either way, it’s both heartbreaking and infuriating.

My hope is that by revealing these truths in Troublemaker it unites women and brings about change; that the people running companies who repeatedly make unfair decisions toward women and minorities finally get exposed and are forced to change—or cast aside if unwilling to do so; that HR departments around the world become places that protect the employees, not their employers. It’s astonishing how many people lack any sort of faith in their own HR departments to make their work lives better.

I want Troublemaker to serve as a reminder to these persecutors that we aren’t going away. I want it to empower women who’ve been silenced out of fear of losing their jobs to speak up and to do it loudly. As Elie Wiesel so poignantly once said, Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

May we all be (good) troublemakers together so that one day books like this will no longer be necessary.

Part I

Background

Chapter 1

The Call

I don’t give a shit! I don’t give a shit! You know what you need to do? If you’re gonna be a reporter, you need to talk to both sides!

—Geoff Russell, Sr. VP Golf Channel (September 2020)

THE CALIFORNIA DESERT is indescribably different in September than early April, the latter being the time of year when I would typically be in Rancho Mirage. But 2020 was anything but a typical year. Besides being devilishly hot and not nearly as lush and green, it was also eerily quiet. All of this, as you might expect, was because of COVID.

Dating back to 1983, the ANA Inspiration held the honor of being golf’s first major championship of the calendar year. This year, however, it was postponed because of the pandemic. Like most people around the world, I was deeply concerned about the virus. But I also needed to work.

When I was a kid, the ANA Inspiration was called the Nabisco Dinah Shore, and it had this magical allure to it in my eyes. The traditional winner’s leap into Poppie’s Pond is legendary, not just in the women’s game but in all of golf. As a little girl who dreamed of playing professionally one day, it was bigger than The Masters to me. I can’t tell you how many times I dreamed of joining all the players I looked up to by taking my own jump into the water surrounding the 18th green at Mission Hills Country Club. My championship formation would’ve been the cannonball because, unfortunately, I wasn’t too creative in that department.

I’ll never forget the first time I covered the ANA Inspiration for Golf Channel in 2015. Most of my enthusiasm came from how much I loved this tournament as a young girl. It was always my favorite event to watch and immediately became my favorite workweek of the year. This year, however, it emerged for two very different reasons. COVID was raging worldwide, and I was embroiled in the first of what would soon become two Federal EEOC (Equal Employment Opportunity Commission) charges against my employer. Life felt like a never-ending roller coaster.

At that point, my situation with Golf Channel had seemed to reach a precarious stalemate. I rarely communicated with the powers that be at the network, nor did they with me. In the meantime, I was doing everything I could to stay busy and keep my head up. If anything, in the most ironic way, the mandatory isolation due to the pandemic was a much-needed reprieve from battling them while also trying to work. I was able to stay home and attempt to get my wits about me, even though my recent struggles still occupied a large part of my thoughts. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t turn off all the internal turmoil. While many of my friends and family were understandably freaking out over their loss of livelihood, I was decompressing for the first time in years. As awful as that period was, the government shutdown and subsequent stay-at-home orders were actually a blessing in disguise for me personally.

When the 2020 ANA Inspiration rolled around, other than Golf Channel’s desperate response to our original EEOC claim, it appeared as if the major players involved in the conflict had finally decided to try to play by the rules. To be clear, at no point did the glacial temperature between us even somewhat begin to thaw. They were merely honoring our contractual agreement, nothing more. Everything about my job was different now, though. I never heard from anyone in upper management. And other than an occasional text about the show from Mark Summer, the senior director of Golf Central, I was completely isolated from anyone in the glass offices at work. It was pretty clear that I was now on the tail end of my time at what used to be my dream job. But little did I know the next run-in with my superiors would be the most shocking of them all.

Five days before flying from Orlando to Southern California, I spent a few hours with an LPGA player named Xiyu (pronounced she-yoo) Lin. Xiyu is a Chinese player I’d gotten to know well over the years, although most of us call her Janet—an American nickname she’d given herself to make it easier for people to address her outside of her home country. In addition to being an outstanding talent on the course, Janet’s also one of the nicest and most honest people I know. She’d never do anything to intentionally upset or offend anyone.

Sarah Kemp, another LPGA player who you’ll be introduced to in greater detail later, was meeting Janet in Orlando that day to play a casual round of golf at a course called the Winter Park 9 and asked if I wanted to play, too. I usually said no to these invitations, but I decided to join them that day for some reason. When we met up, Janet quickly showed us the brand-new Mizuno irons in her bag. Now, if you aren’t a golfer, it’s worth noting that this was a significant change considering she was playing in a major championship in a little over a week. The day we got together was Janet’s first time putting her new irons into play, and she couldn’t have seemed more eager to do so… and also tell us the story about how they got there.

Before I get to Janet’s story, it’s worth noting that our casual nine-hole get-together wasn’t too far removed from recent controversies involving racist and sexist rhetoric aimed at LPGA players. On his PGA Tour Radio show, Tiger Woods’ former coach Hank Haney and his co-host Steve Johnson made disparaging, stereotypical remarks about Asian women:

Steve: This week is the 74th U.S. Women’s Open, Hank.

Hank: Oh, it is? I’m gonna predict a Korean.

Steve (laughing): Okay, that’s a pretty safe bet.

Hank: I couldn’t name you six players on the LPGA Tour. Maybe I could. Well…I’d go with Lee. If I didn’t have to name a first name, I’d get a bunch of them right.

Steve: We’ve got six Lees!

This brazen display wasn’t lost on my fellow journalists or me. In an op-ed for USA Today, Christine Brennan wrote, If Haney is not fired from that job (and Johnson with him) and every other role he plays in golf and the news media by dinnertime…then the entire leadership of the game, the PGA Tour and Sirius XM is condoning racism, sexism and xenophobia while basically telling everyone who isn’t a white male that golf is not the sport for them.

Hank Haney and Steve Johnson were fired by Sirius XM and PGA Tour Radio shortly after Brennan’s scathing piece was published. Still, there had to have been continued psychological damage done to some LPGA players as a result, especially the Koreans and other Asian players. It wasn’t as if these women hadn’t already struggled with the knowledge that some in the golf world considered them less interesting, less exciting, and even less valuable than their white contemporaries. Haney’s comments had merely spelled it out clearly for everyone to consider. To him, they were just nameless Koreans, not even noteworthy enough to take seriously during the week of a major.

While Janet never mentioned her feelings directly to me, I can safely assume that she repeatedly had to deal with many microaggressions here in the U.S. that only reinforced Haney’s dismissive rhetoric. Much like America and the world at large, racism and sexism were once again exposed as significant problems in professional golf and society as a whole.

I learned that day at Winter Park 9 that Janet had recently tested her new irons with a club fitter named Paris Fisher and her swing coach, Tony Zeigler. I didn’t know Paris at the time, but I know Tony well. I’ve taken a lot of lessons from Tony over the years, and, like Janet, he’s a great person. It’d be hard to find anyone who’d say a bad word about either of them. I’d trust these two people with anything I have, which is an important side note to this story.

After many hours of club testing a few days before we played together, Janet found a combination that worked much better for her than the irons she was using at the time. Tony and Paris agreed that she needed to make the change, even with a major championship less than two weeks away.

The next day, Janet, Tony, and Paris were all gathered in Paris’ office in Orlando, and they made a call to the PGA Tour rep for Mizuno. They had to call him because, at the time, Mizuno didn’t have a rep for the LPGA Tour. Janet asked Paris to start the conversation since she wasn’t comfortable conveying exactly what she needed. I’d also assume that she felt intimidated by the social disconnect often accompanying those discussions. Janet was most certainly aware of the Hank Haney sympathizers who couldn’t care less about the Asian players on Tour.

With Janet and Tony listening, Paris asked the rep if he could build the clubs she needed and get them to her quickly. According to them, all three of whom told me the story separately, the rep dismissively responded by telling them he didn’t have the right components to get the irons built and sent out in time. Now, I can promise you this: if it’d been a PGA Tour player, getting the clubs wouldn’t have been an issue. Still, Paris didn’t give up easily. He asked the rep if Mizuno could just send him the iron heads, and he’d build them for her. The rep’s response: I’m sorry. I can’t help you. I don’t have what you need.

Three things are important to emphasize here. First, the tournament wasn’t set to begin for 10 days, which was plenty of time to get the clubs to her. Second, Janet was in the top 30 on the LPGA money list and the top 100 in the world rankings, so she was playing very well—any manufacturer would’ve been crazy not to want her to play their clubs, especially in a major. Lastly, she wasn’t looking for a sponsorship deal. She just wanted the clubs, which costs a company the size of Mizuno almost nothing. This sort of request is extremely common in professional golf.

After the rebuff, Paris tried one final option. He asked the rep if Mizuno could send Janet the heads, and she’d pay for them as well as the expedited shipping. Paris knew those heads were available to ship quickly somewhere in the company because they were commonplace items. The rep’s final response: Look, man…I’m not going to be able to help you, okay?

By this point, Tony had heard enough of the conversation and angrily instructed Paris to hang up the phone. Seconds later, Tony called the manager he knew at a local golf store in Orlando and