don't knock it till you try it: confidence

"I feel that Shannon is very confident but sometimes chooses not to show her confidence." --anonymous "360 degree feedback" from a coworker

I was recently sent off to take part in a "leadership development" program, paid for by my corporate employer. Part of the program involved soliciting "360 degree feedback" from a selection of my coworkers and then obsessing over the negative comments (while ignoring the positive ones) in a small-group setting.

"What should Shannon do differently?" asked one of the anonymous, open-response questions.

• "Shannon should consider working more on speaking up in meetings."
  
  


• "Speak up more and offer her opinion. She has really good things to say but sometimes keeps her thoughts to herself."
  
  


• "Shannon tends to be very quiet in meetings. I would encourage her to dramatically increase the amount she speaks up."

These comments came from three different people, but they basically summarize the feedback from all seven of my coworkers who were surveyed about my weaknesses. There was a consensus. I am way too quiet--so quiet it's troubling, a professional liability.

I was completely irritated by the comments--so clearly did they seem to be a critique of my essential personality. "Become an extrovert RIGHT NOW!" seemed to be the directive. And indeed, outspoken people are clearly respected and rewarded in my workplace. (Whether or not what they say has any value is secondary at best.)

But I don't like to "play the game." In fact, I have a juvenile drive to openly defy people and principles I don't agree with, and am mystified by people who don't react the same way. For example, one time a coworker complimented my new short haircut. "I wish I could cut my hair like that," she lamented.

"Why can't you?" I asked. "You'd look great with short hair!"

She sighed. "My husband would kill me," she said. "He just loves my long hair!"

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, feeling excited in a confrontational sort of way. "In that case, you should shave your entire head. Do it tonight!"

I guess what I'm saying is, I realize that blowhards are rewarded at my company, and I think that's stupid. But if I could just get over it and learn to spout off more inane comments in meetings, people would probably leave me alone. I'd earn some respect, and maybe people would stop questioning how much I "want it" (answer: not much).

"The only limits she will experience in her career are limits she puts on herself," wrote one coworker. Indeed, in true American fashion I am the only thing getting in the way of fantastic success (or my "infinite potential", as they put it). Never mind the rampant institutionalized sexism at my company, as illustrated by a quick scan of the board of directors and the "senior leadership team."

(Hmm. I'm thinking sexism--and the way I should totally not talk about it if I want to be cool--should probably be the focus of another post.)

So in summary, the comments about my problematic introversion seriously bothered me. But after giving it some time to sink in, I realized that they might have a point--that I might be doth protesting too much or whatever. It's true that I don't blather on and on in meetings, and I really believe that it's because I don't say stuff unless I have something meaningful to contribute. But is that maybe only part of the whole story?

I read through the comments again and noticed another theme that I wasn't as eagar to acknowledge, one having to do with things like "confidence" and "courage."

I have a complicated relationship with the idea of confidence. That is, I think somewhere along the line I replaced my idea of "confidence" with what is actually "arrogance." When I hear the word "confident" I picture a strutting, bragging, self-satisfied asshole. Or maybe a hip-swaying, judgemental, "won't-take-no-for-an-answer" bitch.

"Gross, I don't want to be like that!" I often think to myself when I debate whether or not I should display my confidence by, oh I don't know, standing up for myself in the face of a bitchy comment from some judgemental, hip-swaying female. "I'm just not stooping to her level," I tell myself I as I in fact stoop, prostrate myself and offer up my spine to her tasteless but effective spike heels.

It's kind of a harsh thing to realize that what you thought of as a harmlessly modest and self-effacing style is probably just a nicer way of describing what is essentially the quality of being spineless, self-hating and weak.

I mean, it's almost enough to get me to start sharing my real opinions and speaking to the injustices I see and stuff! Then again, I hate people who think their opinions are more important than anyone else's, and really, who I am to say what's right or wrong? Plus, I haven't thought things through and my judgement might be clouded by unattractive, irrational, stereotypically female emotion. Yeah, fuck it, never mind.