Follow the Leader (But Not Too Closely)

For years, essentially starting from elementary school, I watched others walk across stages, their names echoing through auditoriums, hands outstretched to receive gleaming trophies and certificates. In undergrad, and then in various workplaces, that familiar pang of jealousy would strike. It wasn't that I craved the spotlight, but rather, I couldn't reconcile the disconnect between effort and recognition. I knew, deep down, that I was often putting in far more work than many of my peers, yet the accolades seemed to consistently bypass me. This wasn't a motivator. It didn't inspire me to "try harder". Instead, it fostered a quiet acceptance. I learned to be a strong academic, a reliable colleague, and a leader without the expectation of external validation. The "trophy" became an irrelevant concept. I focused on the intrinsic rewards: the satisfaction of solving a complex problem, the joy of a well-executed project, and the respect of those I worked ...

As many of my friends and colleagues know, I poured my heart and soul into organizing this year's Women in Leadership Conference. As the primary volunteer coordinator, I was behind the scenes making sure everything ran smoothly and each station had enough volunteers to support a large conference. Attendees who are not familiar with large scale event management cannot imagine how much energy I have put into this project in the past six months. So when I scrolled through the event photos this morning, I was hurt to find something glaringly absent: me. Logically, I know it wasn't a malicious oversight.  That doesn't make it sting any less. Especially when it stings because it mirrors the feeling I carry around every day: the feeling of being present, yet unseen. Let's do my debrief of the day of the conference, just gloss over all of the buildup events starting from January. It started early, 06:30, and my veins were filled with an unspecified energy drink. My binder, usua...

 The response to my last blog post, the one dedicated to Dr. Richard Fountain, was overwhelming. I was genuinely surprised, though perhaps I shouldn't have been. Dr. Fountain, as I'm reminded every time I attend a social event for the Pensacola business community, holds a special place in the hearts of many. (A testament to his profound impact.) The outpouring of stories and memories made me realize something about the true power of mentorship, and it prompted me to look beyond the present, to examine the threads of guidance woven throughout my life. Particularly I want my peers and colleagues to think about those mentors who are no longer with us. Those who have passed to the other side, leaving behind their legacies of wisdom and influence, but knowledge that they can no longer pass along to the next generation. There have been many people in my life who shaped the person I am today. Some of them, unfortunately, are no longer walking the earthly plane. So, this isn't just...

As I approach the fourth anniversary of my initiation as a Deltasig, I feel that it's time to reflect on how being a part of this fraternity has impacted me as a young professional. -- My undergraduate business studies began amid the disorienting conditions of the COVID-19 pandemic. At the time when most first-year students are expected to become involved in their business world, the entire world was just tentatively reopening. I was surrounded by many peers who were still carrying the weight of isolation, a hesitation to socialize, often lacking the very social skills that business demands. I, too, felt a sense of isolation, but for different reasons than my peers who had always had the benefit of brick-and-mortar schooling. My upbringing had always made me feel like an outlier, and now, amidst that sea of hesitant faces, I again found myself adrift. At that time, ironically, the only people who seemed genuinely willing to engage in the spaces I occupied were the faculty. It was w...

I chose "Pop Muzik" by M (Robin Scott) to set the tone for this post because of its ability to worm its way into playlist as a new wave, disco punk song with an uplifting effect on the listener. It is a musical celebration of a particular expression and invites the listeners to take part in this celebration.  The songs that I love the most are the ones that bring together multiple elements that seemingly do not agree. I take a similar approach to my own professional wardrobe. There is no need for me to blend into the pack of gray, navy, and black suit wearing professionals. Not when my style exists as the perfect opportunity for expressing myself within a workplace. My thesis is that for too long "professional" has been synonymous with "muted". This comes from the idea that to be taken seriously, professionals must blend in so they can become another cog in the corporate machine. Ironically, this is a surprisingly gender-neutral stance to be taken by...

 As an early-career LGBTQ professional navigating the world of business academia, I've experienced firsthand the unique challenges we face when it comes to mentorship. While many mentorship programs are often touted as pathways to career advancement and self-empowerment, I've encountered the frustrating reality: a lack of inclusive support systems and a surprising amount of resistance to the idea of mentoring, both from potential mentors and mentees. These are generic issues with mentoring programs before we even begin to touch on the struggles faced by LGBTQ persons of business. This observed disconnect stems from a complex mix of factors, including unconscious biases, an all around lack of awareness about the specific needs of LGBTQ professionals, and a deep-rooted fear of vulnerability. I've decided to attempt to delve into these challenges, drawing on my own experiences as both a mentee and a coordinator for an executive mentor program at my institution, to explore how ...