'I've Always Been a Human Modem.'

Overcoming Barriers, Breaking Down Boundaries

Looking back, Janiece Webb's life has the symmetry of a fairy tale: A poor white girl from a Latino neighborhood on the outskirts of Tucson leaves home, takes a job on the factory floor at Motorola, and climbs through the ranks. She's a natural leader, and Motorola steers her through a series of tough assignments. In spite of the male culture that surrounds her, she thrives. She travels the world, accumulates a wealth of business sophistication, and makes more money than she ever dreamed she would.

But like all fairy tales, this one has its dark moments too. Webb's father died in a car accident when she was 2 years old, and her mother remarried a copper miner. Both of her parents were alcoholic, and money was scarce. One of Webb's earliest memories is the feeling of hot dust between her toes as she stood in the barren lot in front of her house, barefoot as usual. When she decided to join the Girl Scouts, her parents told her that she was on her own in that pursuit. So she found an old uniform at a secondhand-clothing store and earned the money to buy it herself. Week after week, she endured the stigma that set her apart at troop meetings. "My uniform was old and ugly, and all the other girls had fresh little uniforms. My parents did not teach me how to participate in life," she says. "I think they were intimidated by it."

She left home at 16, and, two years later, she followed a boyfriend to Phoenix, 200 miles to the north. She got a job testing semiconductors on the assembly line at Motorola. Her boyfriend's father encouraged her to consider college, and, with Motorola's help, she started attending classes at the University of Arizona during the day and working the graveyard shift at the plant.

At Motorola, it didn't take long for Webb to get noticed. She rose quickly through a series of jobs in Motorola's semiconductor group, moving first to Florida, then bouncing back and forth between Chicago and Arizona. She married another Motorola employee. The career shuttle wreaked havoc on her studies. It took her 12 years to complete a bachelor's degree in business administration. Somewhere along the way, Webb's paycheck and responsibilities surpassed those of her husband. She was 20 when they were married -- "too young," she now says -- and her advancement put extra strain on the relationship. In 1985, after 12 years, Webb and her husband divorced.

At Motorola, meanwhile, Webb was growing accustomed to breaking through the glass ceilings that had limited the advancement of other women managers. At 27, she penetrated a bastion of maleness, taking over responsibility for the missile-target-detection device that Motorola made for the U.S. Navy. When she got up to make her first presentation, the admiral in charge of weapons programs thought that she was a clerk checking the microphones. "Okay, honey, I think we've got it fixed," he said. "Let's bring up the next speaker." He was seated in the front row of an auditorium that held 300 men -- mostly naval officers, along with a contingent of senior executives from the major defense contractors. Webb was the only woman. "Excuse me, admiral," she said. "My name is Janiece Jordan from Motorola, and I'm here to report on the status of the MK 45 target-detection-device engineering program."

The admiral was thunderstruck. He swiveled around in his chair to face the audience. "Good God!" he shouted. "What the hell is the world coming to that Motorola would send a broad to work on my ordnance?" The room exploded in laughter. When the noise died down, Webb was ready. "Sir, if you find that I'm not competent, I will resign," she said. "But I'd like you to turn around and give me a chance." Webb held that job for eight years.

In her next assignment, Webb had to prove herself all over again. Robert L. Growney, 57, now Motorola's president and chief operating officer, has a reputation for being the toughest boss in a company that's filled with them. Growney's direct reports had never included women before Webb was assigned to his staff in 1989 as director of Motorola's international-paging business. "The first year we were together, he was saying, 'What has Motorola done to me?' " Webb recalls with a laugh. Even today, Growney and Webb are an odd couple. In August, at a Motorola analysts' meeting, they stood together: Growney, with his silver hair, iron jaw, and glen-plaid double-breasted suit, talking with a conspiratorial smile to Webb, who, with her bright-blond hair, her stylish black-knit outfit, and glittering diamonds in her ears and at her wrists, would stand out anywhere -- and who stands out even more at conservative Motorola.

But the partnership has worked. Webb managed a global portfolio of pager companies, using Motorola's clout as a leading investor to tighten their operations and to generate more than $1 billion in revenue for Motorola over eight years. Growney became Webb's mentor, tapping her for key jobs, including one running Motorola's cell-phone business in the United States -- a demanding and highly visible post. The stakes are even higher for Webb now, with Motorola's future hinging on her success. "The wireless Internet looks as if it could be a boundary-less kind of business," says Growney. "Janiece is able to work in an unbounded setting like that. Not everyone can. She's able to find an interesting balance between being a visionary and reducing an idea to ways that it can make money for the corporation."