In The Community
It happens to so many of us. We dream big, work hard to achieve what we want, scale every imaginable mountain in our way, and when we finally arrive, the self-doubt barrels in with an unstoppable vengeance. The thoughts and feelings of not being good enough, not learning fast enough, or not feeling as capable as those around you are often attributed to what we know as imposter syndrome. And if you’ve ever felt this struggle, you’re most certainly not alone.
As Latinas, we face many challenges in the workplace that we can directly attribute to our membership in two marginalized groups: women and people of color. We’re not here to tell you to get over it; trust yourself, you’re good enough, and otherwise, attempt to gloss over the very real feelings that we all experience. Yes, the truth is that we are powerful and capable, but it’s also the truth that these feelings arise from external conditions that create this doubt in the first place, and that needs to be acknowledged.
What exactly is imposter syndrome?
Psychologists Pauline Rose Clance and Suzanne Imes coined the term after studying the behaviors of high-achieving women who, despite their accomplishments, believed that they were not actually bright and had just fooled everyone into believing they were. It’s also been attributed to believing success happened solely because of luck or chance and not through hard work or innate talent.
Being the only Latina in the room
White, land-owning men built American society, which means that Latinas experience systemic racism in the workplace at all levels of the continuum. From silent discrimination like lower wages for equal work to loud and proud racism in the form of harassment and verbal assault, trying to succeed in a system not built for you is exhausting and breeds constant doubt.
A highly accomplished woman often knows that she is highly accomplished and talented, but what happens if her peers don’t recognize her as such? For many Latinas, the problem stems from being “the only Latina in the room” and therefore doubting if they actually belong there. Why don’t men suffer from imposter syndrome as much as women do? It’s simple; society teaches men that positions of power are where they’re meant to be.
Therefore part of overcoming imposter syndrome is understanding this reality. Getting mansplained isn’t because you don’t understand; it’s because culture and bias towards your race and gender have overinflated many white men’s egos.
Of course, the degradation Latinas experience at work and in many facets of life isn’t just limited to white men. The entire hierarchy of color means that race and gender play a critical role in creating environments where imposter syndrome runs rampant, and more so amongst women of color.
How do we defeat imposter syndrome?
An internet search will produce thousands of results and suggest many self-help books, and sure, there are things women can do to overcome these baseless beliefs, but the problem is deeper than that. Authors Ruchika Tulshyan and Jodi-Ann Burey wrote, “Stop Telling Women They Have Imposter Syndrome,” an interesting take on how imposter syndrome has to be eliminated through systemic changes and not through internal work by the individual. They write, “Imposter syndrome is especially prevalent in biased, toxic cultures that value individualism and overwork. Yet the “fix women’s imposter syndrome” narrative has persisted, decade after decade.”
So while there is always value in personal development, we must also understand that a major part of this problem doesn’t have to do with women at all and everything to do with the sexist and racist systems we are stuck in. The solutions then, seem to lie in the dismantling and rebuilding of these systems so that better, more equitable systems can foster talent rather than privilege.
I could hear the director counting down in my ear.
3, 2, 1.
It was showtime, and here I was a short, olive-skinned girl in the middle of an anchor desk surrounded by three blonde haired, blue- eyed journalism students. Earlier that semester I had the opportunity to audition to co-anchor my alma mater’s live evening newscast.
This is what dreams are made of.
I auditioned and a few days later I received the news that I was going to be co-anchoring the Wednesday newscast —then I looked at my co-anchors. They were all white.
The first thought that popped in my head was, “Oh great. I’m the token brown girl.”
Immediately I started telling myself all the reasons I got the job other than my talent. I told myself that I had only booked the gig for diversity reasons. “They just don’t want to look unbalanced or racist.” I was grateful for the opportunity, but I felt like a total fraud my first day on the desk. I had scammed my way in, and it was only a matter of time before they found out that they made a mistake.
This isn’t new for me. Imposter syndrome is something I’ve dealt with most of my life. It’s something that many people of color experience when navigating predominantly white spaces. Michelle Obama still deals with it and she’s a former first lady. We feel out of place, like a fish of water. We think that it must be a mistake or that we’re living in a weird version of J-Lo’s Second Act. Someone must have misheard me in the interview. They accidentally chose me, and now they’re too nice to say anything. Yeah, that’s it.
I’m 25-years-old, and to this day I’m still waiting for someone to figure out that I keep failing up.
One thing I do know is that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if they hired me by mistake, chose me as a token, or whatever the reason might be. Honestly, they hired me because they saw talent and potential. It was the voice in my head that tried to prove otherwise.
I’m deciding to take every opportunity thrown my way and make it work for me. If I need to put in extra hours at work to stand out, then that’s what I’m going to do. If I’m the only anchor of color in a majority-white news team, well then I’m going to be the best anchor on that team. I don’t do this to prove myself to others. I do it to show myself that I am capable and adequate. The saying is true. We are our worst critics. We beat ourselves up and listen to the voice inside of our heads that say we aren’t good enough because we aren’t tall, blonde, and beautiful. It’s stupid.
We are enough. We are brown-skinned women who know what it means to feel out of place from the moment we enter this world. We’ve had to fight to be seen. We are powerful womxn and powerful Latinxs. So, the next time you’re in a space and feel that you’re there by some divine mistake. Shake it off. Remind yourself that you’re a true Chingonx, toss your head back, and hold it high. You’ve got this and guess what…it wasn’t a mistake. You do belong, and you’re going to shine.
