Walking to the conference room I couldn’t help but smile. The client I spoke with on the phone loved the opportunities I suggested for their company and wanted to stop by for final questions and to solidify their plan. The late nights and weekends were finally paying off.

Walking into the conference room, I smiled at the client and held out my hand “Mr. Morgan, so glad we were able to meet today.” Mr. Morgan cocked his head to the side for a moment. “Oh, you’re the one I spoke to on the phone?”

I invite him to sit down and attempt to start the meeting.

“So will anyone else be joining us today?” He mentions with a faint smile.

“No…I’m actually the one who…I’ll be your primary contact for this project.” I deflate.

After the meeting, I go to the bathroom and gaze into the mirror. My favorite business suit, pinned up curls and perpetual baby face. Why did I think I could do this?

I used to pride myself in being an overachiever. I was the one in college with two internships at any given time, a newsletter and helped lead an extracurricular club for no other reason than to pad my resume. I just knew I was destined for something great. I knew I was born to change the world.

Two degrees and four years into my role, that dream went to hell. Despite my experience and job title, any given combination of my age, gender, and race created a never ending cycle of proving myself for things I already accomplished.

The microaggressions from clients are subtle. Things like, “So exactly how long have you worked here?”, “So what exactly is your role/title again?”, “Oh wow, you’ve managed the program here for that long? But you look so young!” and “Are you the only one in today’s meeting?”

When I’m trapped in the cycle of establishing worth to coworkers and clients, I find I hardly recognize myself. I politely smile when a client shakes everyone’s hand but mine. I keep my poise when called “kiddo” by an older male for whom I was managing their event. I laugh when I’m mistaken for being the director’s assistant at a meeting when I was invited to present a project. I typically need to reintroduce myself to people I’ve met a dozen times at functions.

My day is a broken record of establishing my worthiness to be in a space of decision-making. The logical side of me knows I'm experiencing systemic issues in our society. I can explain the historical and cultural reasons and rattle off statistics. But what I can't explain are the moments I find myself second-guessing my worth. Battling imposter syndrome in a world I know I can change, but I just can’t quite get at the table, I just can’t raise my voice quite loud enough to be heard.

On a daily basis, my coping mechanisms don’t address the systemic and cyclical issues for women, minorities, and generational issues in the workplace. And I end up bitter when I can’t figure out how to call someone out on racism, sexism or ageism without career repercussions. I fear in 10 years I’ll be a successful shell of myself. Or I fear what will happen the inevitable moment when my reactions to microaggressions are…unfiltered.

While I’ve come a long way in finding inner strength and reconciling my insecurities. I share this journey to hopefully let you—the young person of color navigating the corporate world—know that you’re not alone. I know we can move the world. In fact, we do it daily.

What used to be an apology has slowly become my mantra.

Yes…you’re working with me.

Kelly Jeanine

Writing since May 2017 · 3 stories contributed