Slap in the face (I - Weaknesses)

Business Insights from Life’s Lessons

Sometimes I write articles about Product Management or business in general, but I also love telling stories. That’s how the series Slap in the Face came to life.

These are short, real stories—usually from my own experiences—that offer insights and lessons we can apply in a business context. After all, we live and learn, and there’s no tougher teacher than life itself.

The Story. Today’s slap: Weaknesses

Finasteride, retinol, and an active lifestyle help me look younger than I actually am (or so I like to believe). But in reality, I grew up in a very different world. This is even truer considering I was raised in a small countryside town.

Among other things, my environment impacted my educational opportunities, especially when it came to learning English early. I am very thankful for my parents' efforts to provide me with the best chances possible, which is why you're reading this article in English now. But back in my childhood, there was no Internet, no English content in the media, no native English teachers, no mandatory English classes at school until sixth grade, few chances to speak with foreigners, and, of course, no au pairs.

When I started my professional life, [my English s-u-c-k-e-d] my English fluency was not great. The worst part is that, thanks to my genuine interest in languages, I was better than average and therefore quite confident in my English skills. There is no greater fool than a fool with a high degree of confidence. But life shows no mercy and teaches valuable lessons with a good slap in the face.

Just after finishing my university studies, I started working at a major Telco company. Back then, the company culture was very Spanish, and English was rarely used, but I had the [bad] good luck that my first project was an international one. We needed to evaluate several products for an e-business architecture, and this meant contacting the vendors, most of whom were based outside of Spain.

It was a sunny afternoon in Madrid, and the sunlight poured through the large windows, creating a warm, cozy atmosphere in the office. I sat at my desk: a portion of a large, shared wooden table divided into four cubicles. I remember that setup well: a natural wood desk with a fixed-line phone and a desktop computer (not a laptop; yes… I’m that old).

I checked my watch, calculated the time difference, and decided it was a good moment to call our US-based provider. I picked up the phone, and a slight chill ran down my back: it was a simple task, and I’m usually a good speaker, but I was about to talk in English, on the phone, with native speakers. No faces, no subtitles, no support... I was about to use my [very limited] English skills in the most challenging context possible.

A woman answered my call, and I launched into my prepared speech with a heavy Spanish accent: “Hello. My name is Jose, and I am working for XXX. We are launching a consultancy process, and we need to talk to you to better understand your products. Your collaboration is crucial to include you in our final recommendation. Can you please help me?”

In reply, a stream of incomprehensible sounds came from my old fixed-line phone, followed by an awkward, uncomfortable silence. I tried hard to decipher the response, but I simply couldn’t. So, I politely asked: “Sorry! Can you repeat, please?” (my Spanish accent grew even thicker).

Again, I heard a sequence of indecipherable sounds. Once more, I asked, “Can you repeat, please?”

The kind voice on the other end, more than 6,000 km away, repeated the same set of sounds I couldn’t understand. I felt really embarrassed. I wanted the ground to swallow me up. I wanted to die.

I had to find a way out of the situation. Fortunately, the woman at the desk next to mine was very proficient in English. I told the woman on the phone, “Please, wait a minute. I will find another person who can talk to you” and then, with a panicked look, I turned to my colleague: “Sonia! I need your help! I can’t understand this person on the phone! Can you please, please, please help me?”

My colleague was a serious person, and I knew she was very busy. The chance of her not helping me was high, but I think my panicked expression earned her sympathy. She came over, took the phone, and started speaking with a level of English I could only envy. Out of curiosity, I asked what my caller had been saying. She looked at me seriously and said, “She was asking you to wait a minute while she contacted a salesperson.” I felt utterly stupid. I hadn’t even made it through the first sentence. I’d completely failed.

The next day, I had to make another call in English. My first instinct was to ask my colleague for help again: “Hey Sonia! I need to speak in English on the phone again. Could you please help me?” But this time, she refused: “It’s your job and your problem, so deal with it!” She was absolutely right: if she did my job, she wasn’t helping me at all.

I had to make the call, but I remembered how miserably I had failed the first time. I needed a different approach, so I tried a new strategy: I openly admitted my weakness. “Hello, my name is Jose. First of all: my English is not very good, so if you can please speak slowly and be a bit patient, I will appreciate.”

And it worked! From that point on, I managed all the calls. People adjusted how they spoke to me on the phone and actively helped bridge the communication gap. A few even found colleagues who spoke Spanish. I felt like a fool every time I admitted my English wasn’t very good, but the reality was that this honesty allowed me to do my job.

Many years have passed since that moment, and my English skills have certainly improved, but even now, a slight chill runs down my spine every time I have to speak English on the phone. That small insecurity is still there, but now I know I can manage it.

Recently, I was leading a major transformation project in my current company that required many people from different countries and cultures to shift from working locally to working globally. Many of them had only worked in their local languages and didn’t have strong English skills. It was a situation I could understand perfectly, as I had experienced it myself.

What did I do to handle that situation from a leadership perspective? Among other actions, I openly shared this story with my teams. I wanted them to realize how lucky they were to have a safe environment to improve their English. I also wanted them to know they wouldn’t be judged for not having perfect language skills, but that everyone would need to make an effort and do their best in the new global context. I received a lot of feedback after sharing this story; people felt relieved knowing that the leaders driving this change had also faced similar challenges and could relate to what they were going through.

What did I learn?

The first takeaway might seem obvious: the best way to learn something is by doing it. We need to dive into the pool to learn how to swim.

But I think there’s a more significant lesson here: when you’re not in a competitive landscape, sharing your weaknesses and vulnerabilities can be a powerful tool.

On one hand, sharing your weaknesses honestly makes others more willing to help you. I could have easily become paralyzed by my task of calling foreign providers, and I almost certainly would have if I had tried to hide my weakness with pride or pretense. By being open, I received valuable support that allowed me to complete my work successfully.

On the other hand, sharing your vulnerabilities helps build trust. By doing so, you not only reveal your human side, but you also show others that you understand their situation. This can a powerful tool when you need to lead any kind of team or project.