Having a sense of humor about what I don’t know is curing my imposter syndrome.
The story of “Dog Playing Monopoly” begins in the early 1990s, in one of my first technical jobs. As a brand new hire, I thought I’d found a bug, and I proudly shared this with my manager.
“Yes, it’s kind of a bug,” he said, “but the rest of us have learned to work around it.” This made me feel like crap. Clearly there was a huge iceberg of insider knowledge floating below the surface, and I would be bonking into the tip of the iceberg for the foreseeable future. I didn’t last long in that position, by mutual agreement; I knew my technical skills just weren’t there yet.
Fortunately, I found a gentler on-ramp into the computer industry as seasonal technical support, and got technical training from the ground up. Then I moved into employee communications roles, which played to my strengths, and I had a long and productive career before switching to technical writing. I was upfront about what I did and didn’t know, what I’d done and what I hadn’t. Most important was what I could learn: anything.
My complete lack of coding experience didn’t matter much to the firmware developers in my new lab. In fact, developers LOVED to demonstrate their expertise and experience. I learned a lot, mastered new software, and started sharing what I’d learned.
I needed that confidence to apply for a new technical writing opportunity. It sounded perfect, but I had zero exposure to some important technologies. I felt uncertain, but I believed I now had the ability to navigate around that iceberg…and do some good in the process.
“Don’t be scared,” said the hiring manager, laughing, when I accepted the job. What a big difference from that long ago early tech position! Here, my complete beginner status was an asset, not a liability: my first assignment was to learn about a service from scratch. And that first investigation returned more business value than any of us expected. Beginner mind, curiosity, and questions have fostered relationships, projects, and insights in ways I never anticipated.
The dog in the original meme looks a little uncertain, don’t you think? And yeah, I bonk into the iceberg frequently, unable to proceed until I understand something new. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed, or can’t seem to wrap my brain around a completely unfamiliar, abstract concept. I discover something else I need to learn every ten minutes. Sometimes I’m embarrassed by the silly, obvious beginner questions I have to ask.
Then I think of the dog playing Monopoly, and I laugh at myself instead of staying frustrated. And I know that I will eventually grasp the concept, and I can do it.
“Dog Playing Monopoly” helps me see my limitations as something other than a liability. Like the dog, I don’t know the rules. I don’t understand everything people are saying. I don’t even have opposable thumbs to move pieces or dish out cash. But I am IN THE GAME. I’m being a good sport. And I’m having fun. In fact, I think we’re all having fun. So it’s all good. And that’s what’s important.
A story behind one of the cards in The Tarot of Michelle. Follow the developmental art as a Patron on Patreon.
michelle rau 