I wasn’t seen either, until I was. My Path to Pride.

My home town in Southwest Vermont was, in a lot of ways, the best place to grow up. Small enough that everyone knew each other by name, you couldn’t really get away with anything and it was safe. On the other hand, this small town did not attract the level of diversity a person needs to have a real understanding of the world. The most diversity I experienced growing up was the gay couple who lived across the street. They owned a hair salon in my home town and were not talked about much, keeping to themselves most of the time. My access to difference was limited. I attended the same schools my parents did and kept all the same friends until I graduated high school. I even went to college in Vermont.

While in college I needed a job to pay for school so I became a tour guide in the admissions office. This was the beginning of a journey and an exploration of identity that would later change my life. Spoiler alert: the moral of the story is that when someone is not allowed or does not feel safe being their true selves they constantly remain in a defensive posture, never allowing them to experience life fully. Brené Brown talks about how since 9/11 we have all been put into a defensive position because we will forever be in a heightened state of alert which fatigues us at all times, never allowing us to truly embrace each moment, while waiting for the other shoe to drop. Remaining in a constant state of fear metastasizes. 

In my professional career, I chose to try and hide my authentic self for many years. In many ways, I was simply not empowered to bring my full self to work. Even when I was in leadership positions, I made the active choice to not discuss my identity directly because I was afraid. I had the opportunity to join the leadership team of a student affairs division when I was 25. Becoming a director at such an early age just two years out of graduate school is rare. Some may call it luck, I like to think of it as my big break. During this experience the leadership team (consisting of 5 different directors and our vice president) would meet weekly. I remember going into most meetings feeling nervous with my padfolio in hand with every question I wanted to ask. At no point was I going to deviate from this list for fear that any lack of competence would be seen as a weakness. And when my opinion was asked about something I hadn't prepared for, I gave the most hard nosed, non-emotional response to demonstrate my control and expertise. Several times after these meetings I would go back to my office and cry because I had bottled up my emotions so tightly as to not stray away from what I thought I needed to be in order to show my dominance, experience, and leadership capabilities.

While working in higher education my identity would come up often, naturally, given the field and its stated focus of supporting the “whole person”, but I made it a point to not let it be the focus. I can remember very specifically a manager years ago making homophobic comments in my presence. I can remember a time while having a one-on-one meeting with my vice president when the word “sissy” was used to describe a fellow staff member who he had thought lesser of. Needless to say, I was shocked. Even though this comment was not directed toward me, it still had a significant impact on our relationship. And, to be honest, he had no idea that the words he used impacted me so deeply.

Because of micro-aggressions like this, I chose to lead through the lens of authority because I thought that this is how I would be taken more seriously, making my identity less of a focus. I felt powerless in many scenarios involving leadership so I chose to lead in the way that I felt would protect me the most. Without emotions I was protecting myself from being hurt - Michelle Gelfand discusses this concept in a recent Guardian article, “To bring a sense of safety back into their lives, they latch on to authoritarianism and conformity.” In a lot of ways, the wound I held and still hold to this day because of being gay is deep. When your society, your community, your colleagues invalidate you for who you are you have two options: leave or protect yourself in the way you know how.

For me I chose to play a character that was leading without emotion and commanded the room to ensure that I was the one who held the most power. I used to say, “I love the taste of accountability” because for me holding others accountable meant I was in charge and people respected me. I know now that this was not the best look for me, but at the time I felt the need to protect myself. This was not me, I didn’t know this person. This was not my true style as a leader. I’m much more of a values driven leader, a leader who wants to ensure that everything is fair and that everyone has access and opportunity. This thirst for power was a shield, I was scared and felt the need to protect myself.

This leadership style led to a lot of challenges with the teams I was leading. I can remember one specific instance when I was to step into a new role managing an already fractured team, I led with accountability first, emotion last. This led to constant challenges, miscommunication, lack of teamwork, and an overall toxic environment because when authoritarian leadership is present, employees are more likely to exhibit what are known as “deviant workplace behaviors”. It was not until I started working for the largest LGBTQ and allied chamber of commerce in North America when I finally started to find my true voice as a leader. It was almost as if the universe had a plan for me. I was sitting in my office one day and the head of human resources for the organization sent me an email saying she had heard about the work I was doing and wanted to know if I was interested in a position they were trying to fill. At first I was terrified. First and foremost I had never worked for an organization like this and had no direct experience doing the job they were searching to fill. Second, I was going to be surrounded by LGBTQ folks. Even though this is a community I identify with, at the time it was overwhelming because at this point my experience with the community was limited and I was still trying to find myself. At the same time this was energizing--I was about to be surrounded by other people who identified like me, I could finally be myself. It was almost as if I had come out again. I knew I could learn how to do my job and do it well, it was the social aspect of the role that was going to be a challenge. Opposite of my childhood, I was finally surrounded by a level of difference that was foreign to me, in the best possible way.

This is when I really started to lean into finding my true self. I was 32 years old when this finally happened. I finally felt comfortable and safe enough to not be an authoritarian, but a much more emotionally intelligent human. I was able to find my power in the relationships I was creating with people. The power I cultivated was in my relationships and through community, not as a dictator. I was finally given the permission I needed to be my authentic self. I took every opportunity to explore this new sense of freedom. I went to every event, engaged with every person, learned about every resource, and put myself in scenarios I would have never thought possible because of this freedom. It was being around people who saw and accepted me for me that allowed me to open up and engage in a way that I had never done before. I was empowered to find my voice and felt safer taking risks than I ever had. In a lot of ways it was because of the community I was surrounded with that I was able to be myself, I didn’t have to “catch anyone up” on my experience because many of us had navigated something very similar, coming out. We knew inherently that we had a common bond which instantly helped us feel safe. We had our chosen family to rely on when our biological families couldn’t fully understand. This experience empowered me so much that I even got on a plane and flew halfway around the world to support the U.N. with developing strategy to achieve the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals. Needless to say, this was a once in a lifetime experience that was experienced as my whole-self, the more emotionally intelligent professional. Not the professional who was in a lot of ways was, “afraid of his own shadow.”

Fast forward to present day. I’ve been with Imperative now for 1.5 years and have never looked back. I stumbled upon Imperative through an introduction from a close friend. I will never forget the first day I met my now manager for the first time, her energy was palpable. She saw me and I saw her. She was curious about me and wanted to know everything about me. The connection was instant. She made me feel so safe that I went home after our meeting and wrote her an email saying she needed to hire me. I had never had a conversation like that before and had never been so bold. Within one hour of knowing her, I had felt more seen, valued, and heard than I had ever felt in my career. She was curious about me, asked a ton of great questions, and was truly interested in what I had to say. She made me feel safe. After this conversation I knew I needed to join the team. I so clearly saw the impact Imperative had on its own team, that I could only imagine the impact it was having on its clients. What I didn’t realize in that moment was that I had just had a peer coaching conversation without even knowing it. This was the power of our work in action. I’ve experienced the magic of peer coaching and truly believe this is a real answer to the question, “how do we help our people feel like they belong?” 

My work is no longer just professional, it’s also personal. I found Imperative, my purpose, and my passion at the exact right time. I share this story with you to reflect on my personal journey and to put words to something that has deeply impacted my life. I love my work and the impact I am able to have on society everyday. Imperative embraces me for me.