When you are the only one who looks like you in the room, Patty Azzarello

By Patty Azzarello

I am in a room of 15 men and 1 woman. I am the woman. I am 31. The guys all look 20 years older than me. I note their big smiles, comfortable banter, and silvering, executive hair; they all look very impressive.

I had just been promoted to the executive level, and these were my new colleagues.

Tips from Patty Azzarello

My focus was split between two things:

1. I deserve to be in this room. I’m smart. I won this promotion fair and square.
2. It is undeniable that I am actually very young for this job—and I’m the only female.

The thought reverberating through my entire being was I am not like them at all. Here I was, in my classy black suit and high heels, feeling way too young and very small.

Watching all these men in their relaxed conversation circles made me think back to the very first job I had in my career.

I was 17 and in my second year of college. I was a student engineering intern working for the US government. I had big hair and big boobs.

All the full-time engineers were men, and all the other interns were older, male, and, by contrast, they all had neat hair and tidy, flat chests.

I walked into the shared office and found them all talking. Their eyes met my boobs upon entry, but they did not invite me into the conversation. As I stood on the sidelines, it struck me like a bolt of lightning . . .

These conversations are where everything happens. Everything. Everything at this job, everything at every job, and everything in the world. And—I am not in these conversations.

I saw my whole career flash before my eyes. Endless groups of people over the course of my lifetime talking about and doing all the important stuff—without me.

I knew I needed to put myself into that conversation circle of men, even though the thought of doing so in that moment made me feel panicked. But I took a deep breath and went in. It felt like that moment when you jump off the high dive. I was in motion but didn’t know what would happen when I hit the water.

Everyone looked surprised, like, “What is she doing here? She’s not part of this group? She’s never been in these conversations before.”

Then, they basically ignored me.

I felt weird that I didn’t have anything to say. But I stayed in it and just listened. I listened while they talked about the new car dealership on Route 71. I listened when they talked about the football game last night, and the new secretary’s sweet ass in her tight skirt.

But then, the conversation got to a new computer system being delivered tomorrow that we had an opportunity to get trained on if we wanted to. I leaped to the front of the line. None of the male interns leaped; they didn’t even volunteer at all. I was the only one.

A couple of weeks later, someone needed to demonstrate the new system to all the visiting generals. And I was the only one qualified.

I realized something super important when I got that opportunity: As uncomfortable as it is to break into a conversation circle where I am not invited, if I can shove my way in there and just listen, just listening can create opportunities.

So now, here I am in the present, after my big career promotion in my first big room of big corporate executives.

I thought about the interns and the generals, and how I had forced my way into the conversation. So once again, I willed myself to walk into this intimidating conversation circle of executive men. And once again, they all ignored me. But I stayed there, I lurked. And again, I listened. I did not back away.

Just stay in the room . . .

People often ask me about my resilience. My formula is not that complicated. Anyone can do it. I just refuse to go away when I feel unwelcome.

I realized that to ultimately get my voice heard, I would need to get in the room, stay there, and then listen like my life depended upon it. I was constantly searching for any small hook or a thread I could grab onto in a confident way.

After lots of listening, I was able to form patterns that others were not seeing. I was able to see communication breakdowns that others were ignoring.

Over time I was able to develop unique perspectives on the business. I was able to volunteer for big things (like the demo for the generals), I was able to find ways to make unexpected contributions, solve problems and create value that surprised everyone who had been ignoring or underestimating me.

If you are not welcome in the room, but you need to be there, stay there. Just don’t leave. Listen and develop your own point of view–and then shock them with your competence.

This article includes excerpts from Patty Azzarello’s new book: Why is SHE Still Here? shared with permission from the publisher.

Patty Azzarello is the author of Why Is SHE Still Here? My Ungraceful Journey from the Playground to the Boardroom, out now.

Author Website: https://pattyazzarello.com/

Author LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/pattyazzarello

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