I Don't Think I Belong In Corporate Software Development

Have you ever been in a room, looked at the people around you, and thought to yourself, "In no way do I belong here"?

I was in a remote meeting with executive-adjacent managers and a few high level individual contributors. All I could notice were polished, curated backgrounds: plants that perfectly hung in view of the camera; haircuts and beards trimmed to the perfect length, not too long nor too short; grand bookshelves panning across the background; cameras positioned at the perfect height.

An obvious truth: there exists a discordance between the life I live and the life they live.

I do not have the energy or stability to curate a Pinterest-worthy background, developed solely for the performance of status and alignment. I hardly have the will to bear the weight of this world and withstand it, let alone transcend it and signal upper-middle class stability.

Weil noted in her On The Abolition of All Political Parties that organized structures tend to prioritize continuity and become self-reinforcing over time. There is a similar system, even in miniature, at play in the higher ranks of American corporations. As you ascend in the ranks, perception management becomes the dominating determinate of your success. The curated backgrounds and impeccable presentation of themselves act as a signal that you belong.

It just so happens to be that those who belong in that circle tend to be from supportive, but sometimes dysfunctional, families. They often went to solid but not extraordinary state schools. They have a support network in the form of family. If they have a mental illness, it often is the kind that can be compartmentalized.

I am not any of that.

I think the greatest tragedy is that even if I performed, even if I walked my way upwards in class, I would be described as "one of the good ones", reduced to an example of the moral and personal failures of people from my background.

The most miraculous equalizer across men and woman is suffering. Both me and those people in the call are humans, and through that we all experience the cross of affliction. Any separation between me and them is that of imagination.

But the reality is that the corporation itself is not human, and it does not suffer in the way I do. Although my leaders can speak of being an accommodating, thoughtful workplace and truly believe it, the core truth remains: the system itself was never built for people like me.