You’ll Learn to Speak Up (an exercise in rationalization)

I had just finished speaking with my supervisor about an issue with my schedule at work the other day, when one of my coworkers told me something.

“You’ll really have to speak up. I know you’ll learn, you’re a smart girl. But you really have to stand up for yourself.”

Out of context, it’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that.

Anyone who meets me in the real world could form any number of opinions, but I’m pretty sure that most people I met in my college classes no longer remember that I exist. I’m pretty shy. I never raised my hand, I didn’t participate in group critiques, and I’m absolutely awful at small talk. I look pretty shy, too. I’m usually without makeup, and my standard outfit consists of jeans and a hoodie (or boots and skinnies, if I’m feeling fancy). I’ve had glasses since I was 12 years old. I tend to carry myself like I’m walking at the edge of a crowded train platform, trying not to shove anyone else at the risk of falling. I don’t like to cut people off, verbally or otherwise.

Some of the more outspoken people I’ve met interpret all that as weakness. Because I don’t talk back or “defend myself” in heated debates, I must be a doormat. Because I’m so quiet and polite, I can’t take criticism. Because I don’t do small talk, I must be aloof, or lacking in the personality department. But I’m young, so I really have no excuse for that! (My coworkers seem to think that being young is the safety net that will keep you from hitting rock-bottom in any aspect of life.)

Newsflash, people: not everyone is wired exactly the same. Some people can talk. You know ’em. They’re the ones that give the fantastically engaging speeches on 16th century Russian history, etc. There are other people who can’t talk, but give them enough time, and they’ll write you the best and most engaging  paper/dissertation/encyclopedia on 16th century Russian history that you could ever hope to read. I’m somewhere on that spectrum…I know nothing about 16th century anything, but give me enough time and I’ll write a blog post lamenting the fact that I can’t hold engaging conversations.

As you might imagine, the traditional methods of networking are ridiculously unsuccessful when I attempt them. In the summer of 2012, I attended the SMWW conference at the NHL Entry Draft in Pittsburgh, where the first event was a mixer in the hotel restaurant. My heart still pounds when I think about it. Walking into a room of strangers–mostly males–isn’t the problem. The problem is the expectation of conversation. My mind blanks, I tell you. I spoke with a few good sports eventually; people who noticed my nervous little smile and just happened to be alone at the time. There was no exchange of business cards, however. Perhaps no one thought I was serious about being there, or I wasn’t likely to provide them any sort of network-related advantage in the future.

And maybe they were right. I’ll probably see very few of them ever again. I haven’t updated my business cards since then, actually, and I’ve moved twice. I keep making excuses about why I haven’t started another degree program yet, or at least taken classes from SMWW. I’ve essentially been stagnant because I keep telling myself there are other things to do that require my immediate attention.

Well, that and the voices in the back of my head, which are all “oh, you can’t do that, don’t bother trying,” etc.

Except that these voices are so ingrained that they’ve become habits, automatic ways of thinking that don’t allow me outside of my little box of what I perceive to be acceptable behavior. Societal expectations of quiet, polite girls don’t help very much, either. Nobody expects somebody that looks like me to want to pursue a job that requires interacting and making connections! That’s for extroverts!

There’s a saying about that, involving books and covers and not judging by them. People should know this by now.

There’s another saying, something about it being better to light a candle than curse the darkness. I spend way too much time lamenting the stupidity of other people’s generalizations, and not enough just doing my own thing and being my own being in order to defy those generalizations. That’s why I have a blog, isn’t it?

Everyone has limits to what they’re willing to endure. Maybe my calm and quiet in the face of stress just means that I haven’t hit my limit yet. Maybe once I do, I’ll She-Hulk out and tear down the preconceived notions in a blaze of sweat and glory. Appearances can be pretty deceiving, after all.

If I’m allowed to get a word in edgewise, I’ll make use of it, but if I don’t feel the need to speak, I won’t. Just because I don’t talk, it doesn’t mean I can’t. I don’t stand up for something unless it’s truly important to me, smarts be damned.

I guess the bottom line is that I’m not there yet.