What Happens When You Experiment In Your Career

Recently, I was asked to participate in a Women’s Rural Retreat in the Catskills area. I would lead 10 women through a 2-hour workshop titled—Getting Creative In Your Career. The rest of the weekend included an apothecary lesson with local makers, a meditative nature walk and a few other ways to connect to the beauty of the area, as well as unwind.

As I began dreaming up the structure for my time with the group, potential PowerPoint slides swam through my brain—but nothing stuck. Bullet points. Charts. Inspirational stock photos. It all felt wrong. Everything that can be powerful in a corporate conference room now seemed completely out of place in this charming spot in the woods. The theme of the weekend was unplugging, relaxing, reflecting—thinking in a new way. I knew what I had to do.

It was time for an experiment!

Having grown my career in large corporate organizations, I rarely walked into a meeting (or said hello) without a deck. And even though I’ve been on my own for a while now, I am often still tethered to this tool as a way to validate all I’m communicating. To say, I fit with you. I belong here—and here’s the data behind me to back it up. This was my moment to deliver an experience, PowerPoint-free and learn about the difference in how it lands.

With tactile cutouts of quotes, a big pad and markers, a guided visualization and honest, thoughtful, vulnerable discussion—we went there. The room was alive with energy, connection and a mutual respect for each other. We created something that wasn’t summarized in a storyline I curated prior to our meeting. And nobody was reading the slides behind me. They were present and they dove within themselves to find answers.

Then with their answers, came mine. Now, I simply need to connect them to the right questions. How can I do more experimenting with this type of format? Who are the audiences who would want it? What’s possible for my business, the women I serve and for me as I begin to make this kind of shift?

I will not use the evidence that came through in this workshop to judge the other work that I’m doing. I do enjoy it and it absolutely falls within my mission. That said, when you experiment with new opportunities and ways of leveraging your strengths—you’re in the space of collecting data for what’s possible in your career.

I find that many friends, colleagues and clients don’t allow themselves this ongoing experimentation for fear that they will fail, that they will not enjoy it—or sometimes it’s that they think they WILL enjoy it—and they will be left with questions about what’s next. Know that one experiment does not need to lead you to a wholesale career change or shift in your thinking. It can however, prompt you to make the next small step to continue your research: learning about who you are and your place in the world.

As A Cisgender Woman, Here's Why I Share My Pronouns In My Email Signature

As a cis-gender person (someone who identifies with the gender assigned at birth), I take the world’s perception of my gender for granted. I identify as female and the way I am seen—in respect to my gender—is in complete sync with how I feel about myself. Given this perception non-issue, I am often asked why I add a line in my email signature that says – She/Her/Hers.

In a recent Well + Good article, Gabrielle Kassel writes, “When a cisgender person—or someone who is read by others as their identifying gender 100 percent of the time—showcases their preferred pronouns, it helps to normalize the practice for all people and recognizes that gender is way more complex than just “male” and “female.”

As a practitioner in the space of diversity and inclusion, here’s why I do it and why you should consider taking this small action, as well:

1. I’m an ally
While I come from the life lens of being clear and un-wavering in my gender, it’s important to me to provide a safe space to those in my orbit and beyond who are not. For those who have struggled to step into their gender identity and those who are now clear their gender is fluid or nonbinary. By sharing my pronouns, I hope to send the message to all people with whom I’m in conversation—it’s safe to share yours and to be you. I see you.

2. It’s a tool to shift perspectives
When I am asked questions about my pronouns, I’m able to educate my cisgender peers on the very reasons I’m defining them as important to all of you now. My knowledge of their importance is informed by the work and wisdom of transgender and nonbinary writers, gender inclusion activists and strategists. But when I take part in sharing this perspective with companies and people who don’t yet understand it, I can help chip away at the emotional toll experienced by trans and nonbinary folks to always be communicating who they are and why it’s OK. Of course, it doesn’t feel like enough—given how far we need to go to create truly diverse and safe spaces, but it’s an easy thing we all can do to push the conversation forward.

3. It helps connect me to other allies
The first place I noticed pronouns in email signatures was with one of my corporate partners. It signaled to me that this was a company that was striving toward being a truly diverse and inclusive workplace, and as I learned more about the organization, that did appear to be the case. Now, when companies or colleagues see my signature, they note I may be a safe coach for their transgender and gender non-conforming employees. And conversely, when I have transgender and nonbinary clients in job searches and career transitions, I can help them target a list of employers that walk their D&I talk.

Beyond email, the next step would be to update your LinkedIn profile. In their Medium article, Argo Collective founder and Gender Inclusion strategist, Max Massure provides a simple how-to on the best way to do this—in addition to providing further rationale for cisgender folks to make these tweaks. While my focus here has been on the professional side of our lives, when we have family and dearest friends in the LGBTQ+ community—this small step is yet another way we can show them allyship, our support and our love.

The Struggle To Get Quiet

I’m a woman of many ideas. It’s part of why I’m so deeply loved and why I love being me. And it’s also exhausting: for me and for everyone in my inner circle. I fall in love with a subset of my ideas and I run after them as if I’m summoning my speed for the last mile of a 10K.

There’s a funny look I get from my people when I’m in this mode. A half smile of fear inquiring, “We’re doing this again?”

Twinkle in my eye. Flurry of new to-do’s. Optimism. Busyness. Hope. “Yes, yes we are. Thank you.”

Yet, as I’ve stepped out of my routine in the past few weeks, to be part of a Rural Retreat Weekend and to participate in a week-long professional development training, one theme has been charging at me from all directions.

In order to move forward, I must get quiet.

I’ve been resisting this in every way I know how. Including adding more ideas to my world.

While I cherish a weekly writing practice as my way of going inward, it’s a practice with a business purpose. It’s a way to be in conversation with all of you, to connect on topics that are important to all of us. When I use this time, it’s creative and introspective and yet it’s still goal-oriented.

As the body of research connecting a daily mindfulness or meditation practice to wellbeing grows, it becomes harder to ignore the potential benefits for me in my life. I wouldn’t say I have ignored them altogether.

I’ve downloaded the apps. I use them on occasion.

I’ve taken the walks in the park. When weather conditions are optimal.

I’ve become present in the moment, noticing a butterfly on a building and the emerging buds of spring. When I’m not listening to a podcast or staring at my phone.

Fleeting moments are helpful, but a practice they are not. What I’ve recently acknowledged is that while a quiet practice may come more easily to some (including my clients), it runs counter to the way I’m currently wired. And that’s exactly why I need to have one. Building this muscle will help me refuel, focus and drown out the noise calling me in multiple directions.

Last week an insightful coach and colleague held up a metaphorical mirror (as we coaches often do) for me to see—this is important, but I need to find my own way. There is not one right way to do it.

For me, a place to start and experiment will be with something I already enjoy: writing. I will take 15 minutes each morning to journal about anything. My perfectionism has already had a few thoughts on the subject. “It should be 30 minutes. There should be writing prompts. I should write at least three pages.” Part of this practice is shutting down that voice in order to reinforce that the lack of structure is exactly what I need. I don’t like limits, so when I give myself the time to take it wherever it will go, it is truly freeing.

While it’s still early days in my practice, there’s an ease in it that I have not felt in any other pathway to quiet. There’s freedom to let my mind go anywhere, which given the number of ideas I have a day is exactly where my mind wants to go. Instead of fighting all of the ideas, I’ve created a welcoming home for them to live so I can move on and feel the lightness of who I’m meant to be.

Career Lessons I Learned From My Earliest Jobs

I started babysitting when I was 10 years old. Looking back now, I’m not sure why anyone trusted me with a child at that age, but I do know I gave that job 110%.

I exuberantly sang every toddler-favorite melody.

I got on the floor and built towers that were knocked down a thousand times.

I washed every dish in the sink even if I didn’t dirty it. (Teenage sitters of 2019 please take note!)

Once I had a taste of working, making my own money and learning new skills outside of the classroom, I was hooked. From babysitting, retail, teaching, waitressing, through to television and film production work—I had jobs throughout middle school, high school and college—and looking back now, I realize I learned critical skills that helped me take leaps in my post-college career.

As I look around at teenagers today and to junior employees at organizations with whom I work—I’m seeing this practice of early job experience begin to fade away. According to Business Insider, "Almost 60% of teens in 1979 had a job, compared to 34% in 2015." The reasons behind this trend appear to be an increasing intensity in school and homework, a prioritization of academic achievement and extracurricular activities over all else and a pervasiveness of helicopter parenting that is at odds with the self-sufficient nature of having one’s own path towards independence.

From my perspective, this is a damn shame.

Here are some of the skills I learned in my early work experience that impacted my career, my life and the way I will parent my two girls:

1. Problem solving
When there’s a toddler crying in his bed because he misses his mommy, two burger specials with cheese fries that go missing or an endless line at the register during a spring sale—you need to think on your feet and do your best to figure out how you’re going to deal with it. And it’s not just about you. There are others relying on you: kids that need their sleep; businesses that need to run. The added push to do your best for someone outside of yourself will be excellent practice for how you can show up as a leader in your career and in your life.

2. Relationship building
When I was in high school, I had some great bosses. At one children’s clothing store where I worked for two years, my boss Lydia, the store manager, taught me nearly every aspect of the business. She believed in me, wanted me to learn AND was very generous with feedback. In school our relationships with teachers were one to many, where as at work—I was one of very few employees that Lydia mentored. She cared about me, but she also set boundaries so that it remained a work-focused relationship. It was an opportunity for me to get coached early, accept feedback and learn how to navigate safe, clear professional relationships.

3. Self-reliance
Because I was often employed, I walked through my early career with the knowledge that I was quite employable. I knew how to interview. I knew how to go above and beyond. I learned how to show up on time and how to juggle my responsibilities of work and school, clearly a skill that has set me up well for working parenthood! While I wasn’t earning a salary I could live on until after college, my early work experience gave me the confidence that this would be possible.

In a culture where we’re maniacally focused on our kids’ academic coursework and grades, we’re forgetting about some of the foundational skills that would make them both employable and good employees. Also, some kids who don’t excel in school, may find their groove in their jobs. I know I truly preferred my first four years of working to my four years of college. I appear to learn more efficiently when I’m doing—and I’m certain I’m not alone in that! With my girls, I will encourage them to babysit, pay them to help me with my business if they’re interested or look into ways they can jump into the world of work that speak to them. What’s important to me is that they have this opportunity to learn and grow in a way that can compliment all they’re learning in school and at home—and make some spending money in the process.