Editors’ note: It is common for students to attend business school for the purpose of making a major career change, and there are myriad programs and support staff in place to help facilitate this sort of transition. But a second year at Owen, Danielle Piergallini, is undergoing a much more profound change. OwenBloggers is proud to present the first in a series of lifestyle pieces written by Danielle chronicling her experience as a transgender student at a major American business school.
It started with a long, uphill walk under the glare of the late morning Atlanta sun. Wearing a black suit might have been a mistake, especially since it was unseasonably hot for the end of March. But the heat wasn’t why I was moving slower than molasses – I was walking in three-inch heels to the hotel where I’d interview as female for the first time. This was the only interview attire I’d brought with me since I didn’t want to give myself the option to chicken out, and I was starting to question whether that was the right decision.
The entire walk I thought people were “going to know” (and by “going to know” – they’d also probably say or do something to suggest as much). So naturally, I freaked out the night before. “Just breathe” a classmate said via text, “You’re self-conscious.” And I was, apparently wrongly so, because the woman at the counter of my hotel wasn’t fazed when I checked my bag with them. The man who asked me for directions to his hotel wasn’t either. And the woman who pointed me to the check-in area for interviews did so with a smile. Was it really that easy?
“You look good” she said with a broad smile and bright eyes. I had no idea who this stranger sharing a look with me in the mirror of the women’s restroom was, but I returned her smile as I finished fixing the damage the humid Atlanta wind had done to my hair on the walk over. She gave me the boost of confidence I desperately needed.
“Is that Danielle or Danielle-ah?” the recruiter asked as he greeted me for my first interview. “Dani is fine.” I was nervous, but not because of my voice. The format of the interview didn’t lend itself to my strengths and I was having trouble finding examples to use for his questions. I left the interview with an expression that a classmate described as, ‘not good.’ He asked how I was doing, and I explained what I was going through before interviewing and how I thought I hadn’t done my best.
“No I mean with the transition overall,” he said. Oh. So I told him that I thought things were going pretty well and people were being supportive. It was a friendly, casual conversation that ended with him remarking: “You look happy.”
That’s when it hit me. Last year I did pretty well getting interviews. I submitted dozens of applications to companies and had 21 first round interviews (I think). However, I didn’t make it to the second round until around my 11th or 12th interview, since it took me a while to warm-up and ‘get it right.’ Between that first and second interview in Atlanta, I remembered those lessons. What I needed to rediscover was how to display energy and self-confidence in an interview. I feel better now than I did last year, so I should be even more engaging now. Right? Right!
The next recruiter received all that benefit, as our conversation felt completely natural. I knew what to say and when, built a fantastic rapport with her, and she brought up next steps before I did. I’d found my mojo again.
Over the weekend I asked myself how much I want this transition to be something that defines my life, rather than just another side story. And I think the latter is ultimately what it is. I’m a fantastic job candidate for several reasons, and if someone doesn’t want to hire me because I am trans (or appear trans, or sound trans, or whatever) – then I don’t want to work there period.
So when I walked into a nearby restaurant for a late lunch, I briefly wondered what the bartender thought when he asked for my ID (which still has my old name and picture on it). But I didn’t really care anymore. I was starving and I wanted lunch and a beer (or two).
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