Home Sweet Home

Lately I've had a number of conversations center around my home state.

Last night I did my usual thing -- rode my bike downtown to join a few hundred other wildcards in the throngs of the Thursday Night Social Ride. A stranger struck up a conversation and asked me where I grew up. It turned into a guessing game.

"Are you from California?"

"Nope -- think Deep South."

"Florida."

"No, but the state I came from does have beautiful beaches."

"Er...South Carolina?"

"And my hometown is known for NASA and defense contracting."

"Georgia? Louisiana? Mississippi?"

"Roll Tide!"

It still didn't click that I'm from Alabama, but it turns out not everyone follows SEC football.

Just last week, My CEO and I got to talking about how people just don't give Alabama enough credit. Not all of us Alabamians are toothless, incessantly drunk NASCAR fans, and even those who are might night be the nimrods they are made out to be. In fact, the city in which I was born, Huntsville, otherwise known as the "Rocket City", hosts a plethora of rocket scientists, bio-tech researchers, and other engineering types (at one time this included both of my parents. .

I have definitely heard my fair share of negative stigmas about the Heart of Dixie, which seem to be perpetuated by stereotypical representations that reflect a minority who exist in every state. Political controversies and historical injustices aren't to be ignored, but they shouldn't lay claim to Alabama's entire reputation -- nor should the notion that Alabamians are idiots. I can say firsthand that I received an awesome education in Alabama public schools and benefited from good ol' Southern values.

Southern charm should not be mistaken for ignorance, and I wouldn't give it up for the abrasive cultures I've experienced elsewhere. Plus, pecan pie and sweet tea aren't a half-bad combination.

The older I get, the more I appreciate my Alabama roots.

Confidence is key

Six years ago, I was terrified to speak in public. I had also gotten into a bad habit of mumbling and staring at feet whenever I was forced to talk, and I apologized all the time for no real reason. 

Working in Sales has pretty much beaten all of this shyness and timidity out of me. Now I give presentations to groups of people far above my rank. It's pretty cool -- but I would never be able to do it without confidence.

My confidence levels have started to build within the past few years thanks to encouragement by mentors, personal growth, and greater knowledge of my industry. I am by no means where I want to be, but I feel like I am heading in a good direction in terms of being assertive.

Here are some practices that have helped:

• Making eye contact. I look directly at people when speaking to them and make it a point to spread my gaze when among a group.

• Finding a solid tone of voice.  I think back to the few acting lessons I took as a kid. We were told to speak from our diaphragms and project boldly and loudly. This is the tone I strive for in a professional setting, and it does wonders for communicating effectively and captivating the attention of others.

• Knowing my shit. I take pages and pages of notes and seek to have a thorough understanding of any situation with which I am involved. The more research and preparation I do, the more confident I feel.

For more tips on confidence, I'll hand it to WikiHow's How To article.

As a side note, what I never want to be is cocky. There is a song that I keep in my head to remind me to stay off of a high horse:

Spinning Plates!

This is how I feel all the time -- except less bored and less bald. 

Working in Sales constantly makes me feel as if I'm on the spot in a flashy variety show like America's Got Talent or, if it were 50 years ago, The Ed Sullivan Show.

I imagine bright lights beaming down with a brass band playing in the background. An audience stares while I spin metaphorical sticks and place delicate plates to balance in elusive motion.

The act is a tough one that requires coordination, urgency, and ambition. I must turn each plate into a forward revolution as it starts to slow.  If I don't, it will topple off and smash to an untimely end. If I keep it and all of the other plates spinning, I win the prize.

In real life, the plates are deals. The spinning sticks are all the conversations that make opportunities move forward, and my prize is the close. If I stop, so does my chance of winning.

So what's a girl to do to keep those plates moving?

Pick up the phone, ask the tough questions, and make people think about what's in it for them and and their bottom line. There are exchanges of pleasantries, provocations, and decisions made along the way.

To put it in the words of a mentor, "It ain't easy -- and it it were, we wouldn't be doing it."

Quote of the Week