#6 NO

What’s the worst that could happen if we said “no”?

Growing up, there were things no one really explained to me. I remember doing whatever my parents, grandparents, and teacher asked me to do because that was how things should be. I also know there were conversations at specific points in time about (not) speaking to strangers and (not) relying on boys first and men later. But no one told me at home or taught me at school how to set boundaries and say clearly, "No." I would love to be the only one with such an educational gap, but my experience through the years has shown me differently.

My elementary school was Catholic, a former seminary run by priests. However, my mother's choice was not linked to her faith and devotion. That was the only school that provided lunch between the morning and afternoon classes, which allowed her to work full-time when I was little, so I grew up with a single mum who taught me it is essential to do whatever is necessary to succeed, even if sometimes we don't like it. Because of her needs and choices, I also grew up with a group of men who always made clear the importance of their book, norms, and rules.

Once in university, I entered the "teacher is king" system. Basically, whatever they said, we had to do. The other option (not doing) was too painful to act in any other way. I learned math and physics, electronics, and robotics. Still, I never really knew how to behave at work since no one ever thought that should be a topic to teach about. Once more, I learned to do whatever adults told me.

When I landed my first job, I acted as I had always been told. I did whatever I was asked to and believed older people than me knew what they were doing. However, this method had a tremendous problem: what are you supposed to do when you get older? How do our roles shift and change and make us become something different? I was never (officially) a teacher, so I was no king. I was not (for many years) a manager with official responsibility or influence over others. I was one more in the teams, so how could I consider my opinion as valuable or even more important at times than others? It took me a couple of years, but I finally understood that if I didn't make clear what was important to me, no one else would. Other people could guess or expect what I wanted or what I should do in my career, but that did not mean they were right. To make it worse, I am a woman who decided to work surrounded by men in a very male-dominated business. I did not have role models in my position. No other women were around me doing what I did, and no matter how I tried, I never saw myself growing up like my colleagues. When I was young, I felt I could somehow become one of them, but time made it clear I would never become such a thing.

The first time I said a clear and loud "NO" to anyone was not because someone asked me to do something, not to a manager, and neither to an older colleague. I refused to help a trainee, too eager to use my research results for her benefit. I refused to enable her, and I told my manager later. That day was the first time someone told me I had to be careful expressing ideas to others because it could backfire (telling you I would never work with "that" person was not well received). Fortunately, that day, I learned to weigh my odds while negotiating, and gradually, it became natural to express my opinions.

Through the years, I was the one who could not lift stuff so easily, the one who changed a job in a lab for makeup and heels to meet customers, the mother who left kids with their father to travel for work, someone who changed jobs and "stole" someone else's opportunities, a too caring manager to her team, and last but not least someone who was not willing to behave as the other men around. I was as well the one who told my colleagues I was able to take care of my stuff even if it was heavy, used my heels and makeup to empower myself above whatever others thought, and left my kids with their father because we could both take care of them, and look for better job opportunities, and have a different style of managing people.

All this is not necessarily good or bad but reflects how I grew professionally in a specific working environment. I understand I've been privileged by the part of the world I was born in, those who raised me, and some luck in my choices. Some people might think they never had or will have such an option. Once upon a time, I thought the same, and now, I don't anymore.