Glug

When I was a kid, my mom had bottled milk delivered to our house.  My siblings and I loved the first pour, the sound of the milk bounding out its vessel and into the waiting glass like a dam just released.  My brother was always adamant about his being the first glass. “I want to hear the glug!” he would say insistently, as if it was a sound audible only by the bearer of the glass.   He was relentless, complaining mercilessly when my mother chose to pour into someone else’s glass first.  His incessant whining often ignited a big, ridiculous argument, and then more crying on his part when he missed the glug amid the ruckus he had created.  As the oldest and the practical one, I was just annoyed.  Didn’t he realize that even if he was relegated to second or third pour, the very fact that he was in the same room gave him the opportunity to experience the glug?

As an adult, I can now understand my brother’s need to be first, especially growing up in a family with five children.  Competition is a natural phenomenon among siblings. As I raise my own children in today’s world, there doesn’t seem to be anything left in life that is not competitive.

We can’t always be first.  But we sometimes forget there is tremendous value to be gained just by being in the room. 

I remember a point in my career when I wanted so badly to be on one of our client leadership teams.  I’d spent almost 10 years in various team leader positions, but this was the “senior” team.  You needed to be at the top of your respective service line for this spot.  It was exclusive, where breaking news was announced, strategy was outlined and all the decisions were made. This was the table I needed a seat at if I was going to move up, and I wanted in. 

It took two excruciatingly painful years to get there.  During that time I was beside myself.  I felt stifled, like someone had a thumb pressed firmly on the crown of my head. I jumped on any opportunity to get in front of that group, volunteering to present learning from a training session, or options to more efficiently organize my team. I became a sounding board for my manager, and the go-to person for the team and client.  I soaked up everything there was to know about the client’s business and goals. And all the while my frustration simmered just beneath the surface.

I look back on it now and marvel at how much I absorbed just by being curious, driven and wanting so badly the seat at the table.  In those years when I believed I was stagnant, I became a subject matter expert in my line of business.  I came to understand our business as a whole and how the parts work together in seamless integration.  My internal network grew exponentially.  I was so well prepared for my role on the senior team, that in my first year I took my group from the worst performing to the best performing.

All that and I didn’t think I’d heard the glug.

I’ll never tell an ambitious woman leader to stop fighting for a seat at the table, or to patiently wait her turn in second or third place. What I will tell her, is that while she is casing the room for an opening or the opportunity to bring her own chair in and sit down, she should never discount what can be learned from another vantage point.

The funny thing about the glug is that you’re the only person who can prevent yourself from hearing it.  Don’t let your impatience and frustration get in the way.