The Imposter in the Room

I was acutely and nervously aware of the irony of my situation at that moment. I was about to crash an exclusive seminar by passing myself off as “staff” using a defunct email address (which in all fairness, did at one time exist) to register for an event to which I was not at all invited. The seminar was actually a workshop about conquering Imposter Syndrome. Yes indeed, I was the literal imposter in the room, sneaking myself in to learn all I could about how to overcome feeling like an imposter.

How did I get here? Let’s back up. Some time ago I had read Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In, in which she describes feeling like an “imposter” in school and at work- a phenomenon where rather than taking pride in one’s achievements, she brushed them off as luck, and felt fearful that others would discover a “true” lack of talent or accomplishment. I was interested in this, mostly because her experience of putting the name “Imposter Syndrome” to her feelings, as outlined in her book, was mirrored uncannily in my own experience. The scenario she described was a scene from my own life, (if it was at UC Davis instead of Harvard and another honor society altogether) in which her mind is absolutely blown by a speaker at her Honor society’s initiation ceremony. I had to know more. From the book’s references I went and read the original research paper that described this phenomenon for the first time. More digging revealed a test (omg! a test!!) that would rank the severity of your imposter feelings on a 1-100 scale.

I was all about this: any number I could attach to my feelings made them measurable and therefore understandable, definable! I couldn’t ask for better validation. Like a dutiful researcher, I contacted the lead author of the paper asking for permission to reprint/cite her paper and test as source material for a discussion with other lady scientists I was slated to have the next week, thinking it would provide some good talking points.

Some weeks went by, and our discussion of imposter syndrome went well: consistent with the paper we read, all of us high-achieving women (save one) had experienced imposter feelings, and scored highly on the test. Reactions run the gamut from very surprised to a non-nonchalant shrug. My reaction was somewhere in between…I wasn’t surprised but I was still feeling quite shocked and at a loss at what to do.

Then, out of the blue, I receive a missed call at work. This is very unusual, everyone who wants to reach me never bothers and simply calls my cell phone. It was Dr. Pauline Rose Clance, author and discoverer of the Imposter Phenomenon, calling from Georgia. She knew I had requested to use her materials for a discussion with other women in STEM (Science, Tech, Engineering, and Math) and was following up with me, using the phone I list in my work email signature. Would you, she inquired, be willing to write about your experiences for my website and be a resource for other women in STEM? I was pretty shocked she wanted to put something I write on her website.

I couldn’t have been more intimidated, nervous, and starstruck all at the same time. Like the excited spazz that I am, I blurted out a yes- conveniently forgetting that I’m also planning a wedding and doing my PhD. And so, when I heard about an “invitation only” seminar about Imposter Syndrome at a nearby prestigious university, I had a fit of inspiration and decided to do everything I could to attend.

So here I was, feeling very off balance and doing everything I could to act like I belonged. In my mind’s eye, I could just slip in the back of the seminar and no one would notice me. However, as soon as I ascended the stairs I was greeted with a huge well-dressed crowd, mingling and enjoying a large display of catered treats: five kinds of mini-quiches, coffee, tea, juice, fruit plates, and every kind of cookie, cake and brownie imaginable. Ushers in matching suits (the school colors of course) with name tags waved guests to registration tables…where computers waited to take your name and institutional email.  I panicked, it didn’t say anything about registration on the event flier I had found! Also, somehow the title of the “seminar” had morphed into “workshop,” which to me implied a much more interactive session, meaning the chances I would be found out had drastically increased. But then, amidst the panic I felt a wave of calm descending, in which I calmly marched up to the computer and entered my information. If it rejected me, so be it! Miraculously, however…”Registration Accepted” appeared on the screen and I sort of stood there a little confused for a minute. The Usher kindly gestured me toward the food line and like a zombie I just trudged over and started grabbing whatever was in sight. I got in!

The “workshop” turned out to mean questions posed by the speaker and lots of raising of hands and audience participation. At one time there was even the formation of small groups for intimate activities, and I thought for sure my group-mates would discover the gaps in my personal experiences and realize I didn’t belong there. I played it all off, and everyone nodded in support of me, and asked to borrow my pens, and didn’t even seem the least bit suspicious. Once, an usher in the corner gave me a squinty-eyed serious look, and I thought for sure he would walk over and escort me out. As time went on, I was more comfortable, and I left still feeling nervous but also exhilarated and enlightened.

It was so worth it. I’m still waiting for the email “finding me out” and stating the consequences but so far nothing has arrived. And although it’s taken me several months to even begin composing something worthwhile about Imposter Syndrome, having an idea that I am not alone and not the only one at a loss at what to do sometimes, can make all the difference when deciding where to start. So although I literally had to turn into an imposter to learn how to cope with feeling like one, it somehow became an inspirational experience that ended with a sense of belonging.

I’m still composing something for Dr. Clance’s website, which will *hopefully* follow this post sometime soon.

Nespresso espresso: a coffee addict’s instant fix

This weekend I took a break from worrying about my qualifying exam and everything else grad school related,  and took some time to enjoy the wonderful birthday gifts my amazing friends and family showered me with. The first is the Samsung Tab2, which I’m trying to poxt from right now. It’s the best of both worlds between a computer and an iPad: I dont feel as limited in my capabilities using just apps, and the android operating system is more intuitive than other tablet interfaces. Ive quickly become quite fond of widgets, which have the convenience of the live tikes of Windows 8, while integrating seamlessly with my apps.

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But what I really want to brag about is my new coffee machine: a Nespresso.  I’m one of those people that likes good cofee, and living in Dunkin Donuts loving Boston is a little difficult for me. There is a sad lack of good coffee options close to lab that aren’t a decent hike, so image how ecstatic I was to find out my amazing friends had all pitched in to buy me a Nespresso machine! Opening the box for the first time confirmed my suspicions– this thing was a machine for coffee snobs who think they are too good for Keurigs. The sleek black owners manual and membership information made me feel like I was ingratiated into some exclusive coffee lovers society, patrons only. The usage instructions were modern and minimalist looking, and the machine itself was much smaller than I imagined. I found my judging the quality of the coffee to be based on the machine’s small stature, but as if to cast my doubts aside, the little guy roared to life when I started brewing hot water. The powerful noise it makes was extremely satisfying and I knew this was going to make a fantastic cup of coffee.

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But because Nespresso facies themselves a little bit more snobbish then Keurig, they make sure they aren’t dealing with lazy people. The Nespresso will keep pumping out hot water after you push start for as long as you desire, so you cant simply walk away. This festure makes it more customizable but requires some judgement about the size of your mug and the strength of your desired cup. Once I was finished in the blink of an eye, it was a damn good cup, almost as good as what I could achieve with my stovetop espresso maker. Most notably, I found it lacked all of the residual burned taste that some conventional espresso makers leave, and there was no mess or cleanup to do! This classy thing even removes the pods and collects them for you in a container, so there is no cup sitting in the insert place forever getting gross.

Overall,  highly recommend this coffee maker. I can’t wait to bring it to work and have delicious coffee without braving snow, sleet, rain, or most recently wind to have my cup o’jo. Also, since I’m highly addicted to caffeine it helps avoid those debilitating headaches that will ensue without my daily dose. This will make late nights in lab so much more tolerable!