INTRODUCTION Kevin, a junior associate at a large consumer brand, entered his boss's office, burdened by an overwhelming feeling of dis- appointment. He was unable to comprehend why he had been passed over for a promotion he had been eagerly anticipating. Determined to get to the root of the matter, he approached his boss, Ben, and asked the question that had been weighing on his mind: "You liked my work; how come I didn't get the promotion?" Ben, who had been busy juggling several pressing matters, turned to Kevin and responded, "Let me show you something." He strode over to the whiteboard in his office, took hold of a dry-erase marker, and drew several circles. "Within each circle are the things going on in my life right now," Ben explained. "I'm thinking about my own promotion. I'm thinking about my client who is upset at me. I'm thinking about my wife who wants me to go to a dinner event with her. I'm thinking about my dog that just injured his leg. I'm thinking about my kids and their upcoming baseball game. I have thirty employees, three of whom are always coming into my office, making small talk." He paused, then continued, "You don't come into my office, so how often do you think I'm going to think about you when I have all these things occupying my brain?" Kevin stood there, stunned. He had never thought about it that way. He figured his work would--and should--speak for itself. "I like you a lot," Ben added. "I know you have a lot of potential, but you need to proactively come into my office and make your presence part of my daily brain." This story was shared by my friend Michael Chen as we were chatting on Zoom one afternoon about what it takes to find workplace success today. Chen is the former president and CEO of General Electric's Media, Communications, and Entertainment division. As Chen shared this story, I couldn't help but reflect that I could relate to Kevin's plight. Growing up, I was never taught the importance of making myself visible, of continually following up as a way of staying top of mind. I was never taught the importance of being proac- tive or how to speak up with tact. Instead, I was taught to work hard, hit my key performance indicators, and not cause trouble. The expectation was that as long as I did these things, promotions and raises would follow, like clockwork. However, as with Kevin, it didn't take long for me to see that this formula wasn't actually what was needed to be successful in the workplace. What actually mattered was the ability to showcase myself. Not only that, communication and being visible were required -- and rewarded. Thus, a paradox started to form. How was I supposed to be "loud" when I was only ever taught to embody more "quiet" traits? I've discovered there's a group of us today who were raised in what I call a Quiet Culture. People like us are told from an early age to follow instructions, listen to others, talk less, and let our work speak for itself. But those raised in a Loud Culture are taught to do virtually the opposite: share their opinions frequently, make a lot of noise, and carve out opportunities for themselves. One is not better than the other, but when one cultural context is placed in another, the ability to get noticed in a way that feels right becomes difficult. Early on, when I started to feel stuck at work, I immersed myself in learning, listening, and reading all the communication and leadership content out there to glean insight into how to become more loud and visible. While insightful, many of the teachings didn't address my most pressing question: Could I still hold on to my Quiet Culture values, or did I need to mold myself and become a loud person to fit in? And if I didn't, would I just become utterly forgotten? As I began to look around, one of the most surprising things I found was that I wasn't alone in feeling this way. Many people, like me, who were raised with Quiet Culture values felt unsure about how to chime in or show up in a Loud Culture working world. They also felt like they didn't know how to do it without acting a certain way. It's why I have dedicated this book to talking about Quiet Culture and Loud Culture. Specifically, this book is for those who were raised with Quiet Culture traits and are now working in a Loud Culture world. Because the truth is, this friction goes beyond just being an introvert or extrovert; it's something deeper. It's the values and beliefs we have been taught in our most formative years that have shaped who we've become, what we know, and what behaviors we find comfort in. This book is a guide, a dedication, and a personal reflection of sorts that explores the question I hoped to answer years ago. Over time, I have discovered that it is possible to be noticed exactly the way we want to be without complete acculturation. We can still honor that Quiet Culture part of our nature while expanding what we know, how we act, and how we communicate, so we can better express ourselves in the workplace today. This is what part 1 of this book is about. We will dive deeper into the two worlds of Quiet Culture and Loud Culture, and we will unveil what each looks like. We will also talk about how to find a cultural balance through what I call our Cultural Reframes, which will help us rethink how we en- gage with others, spend our time at work, handle wins, and manage conflict. I don't discount the fact that there is such a thing as a Quiet Culture bias that exists in the workplace, so we will spend time talking about it, including sharing tips on how to overcome it--specifically the things we tell ourselves. Because, as the saying goes, we can't keep doing the same thing over and over and expect different results. We need a new road map. From there, we enter part 2 of the book, which takes our reframes and gives them legs. I call this step implementing our Quiet Capital Framework, a three-pillar structure that allows us to be seen exactly the way we want. The three pillars are: shaping our career brand, establishing credibility, and advocating for ourselves. We will go over, step-by-step, how to apply these pillars to our daily work. Because the truth is, if we don't control the narrative of how people perceive us and what others think of us, the opportunities we get will be left to chance. With every great plan comes hopefully even better execu- tion. Part 3 is where we will talk about communication skills. This section will feel very tactical, and that's the intent. We will go over practical communication strategies and show you what to say and how to say it at work. It's also set up so that if you ever need tips for giving presentations, using body lan- guage, or refining your speaking, you can just turn to the right page. Because in my work helping people build their communi- cation confidence, I have discovered that even though we may know the techniques for getting noticed, if we can't deliver well, then our impact is much less powerful. In other words, no matter how much we know or how much we plan, none of it will matter unless it lands. PRIOR TO STARTING my global communication training company, Soulcast Media, I was a broadcast television journalist for nearly ten years. Winning an Emmy Award at ABC in San Diego was the culmination of my career in news, and it was the catalyst that propelled me to start my own company. One of the reasons why, after I left TV, I entered the risky world of business was because I saw that many of the tactics I learned about communications and speaking up at work could be applied in the broader professional world. Witnessing the most eloquent speakers present seamlessly, navigate tricky conversations with tact, and eloquently advocate for themselves was like taking a master class in effective communication. It was a mindset shift coupled with tactics, both of which pointed to being smart, not loud. So in studying the great TV journalists and applying the strategies myself, I found the answer I was looking for: you can absolutely be noticed for all the right reasons without needing to be loud. Since starting Soulcast Media, I have heard from countless leaders and professionals who have appreciated the acknowledgment of Quiet Culture traits while existing in a Loud Culture workplace, and the point of friction this has created. I frequently receive notes like this one: "I too grew up in a culture that emphasized modesty, keeping your head down and working. But, as you've pointed out before, those are not necessarily the best tips when you're trying to succeed at the office. I've read books and taken courses about how to overcome these mental barriers, but I've never heard the acknowledgment [of this cultural friction] and have never taken advice from someone whom I related with. I think that was the key. I took [your advice] to heart and simply applied some of these 'gold nugget' tips." Those gold nuggets are now in this book, and they're meant to give you a new way forward too. In fact, even if you were raised in a Loud Culture household but resonate more with Quiet Culture traits, this book will provide a road map for how you too can build influence. It can also be for those who identify as having been raised in a Loud Culture but want to better understand the thinking of those raised with Quiet Culture values. Perhaps, in reading this, we can also begin to shift how people perceive those raised with Quiet Culture traits to create a more inclusive workplace. It is important to note, though, that this book is not meant to be the one solution to a complicated and layered workplace experience. But it will shed light on some of the unspoken and often silent dynamics at play. Today, I am honored to have impacted millions of people around the world. My courses on LinkedIn Learning are consistently ranked among the most popular and have been watched by more than two million people, many of whom are global leaders. I'm frequently invited to speak at Fortune 100 companies to teach and inspire teams to better show up, engage, and stand out in a hypercompetitive business environment. When I reflect back to that person who struggled with showing up and sharing her ideas at work, I can still see her, because it's not about completely changing who we are. Rather, it's about taking our Quiet Culture values and reframing them so we get noticed for all the right reasons. Now you will be able to do that too. CHAPTER 1 FRICTION AT WORK Stuck between two cultures One of the earliest memories I have of growing up is being sprawled on the carpet with the ten o'clock evening news playing in the background. My brother is next to me, and my parents are sitting on the couch behind us attentively watching the news. For years, this nightly ritual was somewhat of a family tradition as we all ended the day watching television together. "Jessica, when you grow up one day, you should talk on the news just like them," my mom said, pointing to the reporters on TV one night. "But why?" I responded. "So I can see where you are and make sure you are safe every day," my mom replied with a half smile. To a six-year-old, this seemingly innocent, lighthearted comment didn't mean much at the time, but fifteen years later, I found myself exactly where my mom had hoped: in TV news. In the years leading up to graduation, like many young college students, I was beginning to think about the question What do you want to do for your career? For students around the world, this loaded question induces sleepless nights of stress and anxiety. But for me, the moment I started exploring the possibility of journalism being a career, I was convinced it was the right path for me. Everything about it--learning about different industries, being at the heart of the action, and telling stories in hopes of making the world a better place--pulled me in like nothing else could. So, that spark of an idea my mom planted in me that fateful night had now grown into a roaring fire. This career felt like destiny. Just a few months after finishing school, I landed my first job in Reno, Nevada, as a television news reporter. It was the beginning of what I anticipated would be a storied career in journalism. However, as proud as I was to have locked in what became my dream job, I knew there was a lot more work to do. Because I not only wanted to be a journalist, I wanted to be the best journalist. So, I spent every waking hour learning, studying, and practicing. At work, I attentively listened to everything my bosses told me to do, soaking in every bit of advice they gave. After work, I stayed late to dig through documents in hopes of finding hidden stories that were overlooked. On the weekends, I picked up books written by former journalists to glean insight into how they had succeeded. And if I really wanted to feel inspired, I would watch and rewatch my favorite TV anchors on air because I was convinced that if I worked hard enough, I would be just like them one day. I lived and breathed journalism. However, it didn't take long for me to see that a paradox was beginning to form. Despite working hard, I was still not getting the bigger and better opportunities at work. I was getting stuck doing the most basic projects, and I couldn't figure out why. For example, when an exciting story came into our newsroom and I expressed my interest, I would immediately see it be handed off to someone else. Initially, I chalked it up to being new, but as newer employees joined after me, I noticed I was still being offered the less desirable projects. That feeling of being slighted, left out, and even invisible started to creep in. I thought, if I'm doing everything I am supposed to do, including putting in the hours and listening to all the instructions given to me, why am I being overlooked? The balance between what I was expecting and what was happening was off, and I needed to figure out why. This conundrum came to a head in 2010, a few months after I started my first job. One day, our newsroom got notice that in two weeks, the US Air Force Air Demonstration Squadron, the "Thunderbirds," would be coming into town. They were hosting an air show, and as part of their PR campaign, they would allow one reporter to fly with them. Excited about the prospect of flying in a high-speed aircraft reserved only for those in the military, I raised my hand and mentioned to my boss that I would love to do the story. "OK, noted," he said. I walked away from the meeting with a smile on my face, and I mentally patted myself on the back for finding the courage to express what I wanted. For two whole weeks, I fantasized about how I would put the story together and what an extraordinary opportunity this would be. On the day of the air show, reporters and producers filed into the conference room to start our daily editorial meeting. I sat in my seat and waited for my boss to announce the plan for the air show. "As for who will be covering the story, Bella will be riding with them." Immediately, my head swiveled to my boss. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I was sure my face showed it. Without even looking at me, my boss continued on with the day's agenda as if I were completely invisible. The feeling of "my'' story being handed off to someone else was gut-wrenching. At the end of the meeting, despite feeling incredibly uncomfortable, I mustered up the courage to ask my boss why someone else had been assigned the story. "Just curious," I said in my least disappointed-sounding voice. "Why is Bella covering the story? I was really hoping to do it." My boss looked up at me, seemingly confused. "Oh, that's right," he responded. "I forgot you had mentioned it! Bella was interested in it, and she was just talking about it all week, so she was top of mind. Sorry--next time!" I knew there would be no next time, but nothing could be done now. As I walked back to my desk, I kept ruminating over his words: "top of mind"; "talking about it all week." In the two weeks leading up to the air show, I had thought about following up and reminding him of my interest. But because I hadn't wanted to intrude or bother him, I'd decided against it. Moreover, I didn't know how to approach being top of mind without seeming pushy. Therein was the friction: because I didn't know what to do or how to do it, I simply did nothing. As I walked back to my desk that fateful day, ruminating over my manager's words, I knew something had to change. So I put on my journalist hat and started investigating. I asked myself a multitude of questions, like: Why did I think asking for something once was enough? Why did I assume he would remember? Why did I default to thinking I'd inconvenience him if I followed up? The more I looked into it, the more I realized my attempts at being noticed, remembered, and recognized were futile. Not only that, I was getting in my own head, creating a narrative of what I thought would happen, including being negatively perceived as pushy or annoying, or even getting downright rejected. The question of "What's there to lose?" was, for me, imagining the pitfalls, consequences, and risk. But it wasn't just that; I felt myself, more often than not, suppressing what I wanted to say in meetings. My mind would race with negative thoughts, causing me to doubt myself and my expertise. At first, I attributed these feelings to my personality. Maybe it was because I was more introverted, shy, and timid; therefore, it was harder for me to communicate. However, the more I looked into it, the more I began to see it was more than personality alone. For instance, I didn't consider myself soft-spoken or anxious when I was around my family and friends, but when I was in a professional environment, it was like I suddenly was. Deep down, I knew there were bigger forces at play that caused me to stay quiet, downplay my thoughts, question my capabilities, and acquiesce. Over time, I discovered it was because I was showing up in the workplace exhibiting the Quiet Culture traits I had been raised with, but the workplace was expecting something else. QUIET CULTURE VS. LOUD CULTURE In my years working with professionals to help them communicate more confidently in the workplace, I have discovered that there is indeed a group of people who gravitate toward thinking and behaving with "quiet" traits. For example, listening rather than talking in meetings. Following directions rather than engaging in discussion. Advocating for others, but not advocating for themselves. Deflecting attention and praise. Having a more risk-averse mentality, in which they tend to stay within the confines of what they know. Those of us who come from Quiet Cultures are often seen as "the quiet one" at work. On the flip side, those who come from Loud Cultures often prefer speaking over staying silent. They are taught to engage in discourse and to see rules, processes, and structure as open to interpretation. They don't consider confrontation disrespectful, but think of it as a way to show their thought pro- cess. Those who behave with "loud" traits also don't shy away from talking about their work, their impact, and their ac- complishments. In the Western world, corporate workplaces tend to reward those who exhibit "loud" behaviors, because work emphasizes individualism, self-determination, and au- tonomy. But how did it become this way? Why do Western companies, as well as many global workplaces, now value Loud Culture traits? It helps to look at how Western society was formed thousands of years ago. The philosophical underpinnings that shaped Western democracies are rooted in Greek ideology. From the likes of Aristotle to Plato, these philosophers talked about individualism--one's ability to carve out their own path, speak their mind, and create their own future. In fact, the ability to express one's ideas, discuss them openly, and challenge others was not only expected, it was rewarded. Psycholo- gist Richard E. Nisbett writes in his book The Geography of Thought this poignant example: "The Greek sense of agency fueled a tradition of debate A commoner could challenge even a king and not only live to tell the tale, but occasionally sway an audience to his side." If we translate this into work- speak, we can see a young employee rise up fast in the corporate world because they're not only good at what they do, but they're not afraid to challenge the status quo, seize opportunities, and take on projects others might not want to do. They speak their mind and put themselves out there and are not discouraged from doing it; rather, they are praised for it. In fact, we don't have to look very far to see where these characteristics are embedded in Western companies today. The importance of successfully making oneself known can be found in the value statements of some of the most renowned businesses. Amazon's core leadership principles outline an expectation for employees to think big, which means being able to communicate a bold direction that inspires results. They want their employees to have a "backbone" and to openly "disagree and commit." The payroll-software company Gusto lists "De- bate then commit" as one of its five values highlighted on its website, and the fintech company Enova has on its culture page a quote from an engineering lead saying the company's ability to innovate is because of the motto "Be Bold and Move Fast." In 2009, Google conducted a study that showed the mark of a great leader in today's world is not technical expertise, but the ability to converse, ask questions, and help others solve problems. Specifically, in American culture, we see companies push their team to enter the market quickly to gain what experts call a first-mover advantage, in which people and organizations vie to be first to the marketplace to gain a competitive advantage. While there is research that states being the first is not as advantageous as one would think, people still push their teams to be the most innovative, and the market elevates those who are the most disruptive with awards and accolades. In other words, if we want to succeed in the Western workplace, we have to embody what these companies expect: be assertive and communicative. However, for me, being bold and unapologetically forthright in a professional setting was not an easy thing to do. I grew up in an environment where the overarching sentiment was to keep to oneself and become invisible as a means of survival. When my parents emigrated from Taiwan to the US, they carried with them little to nothing. Their move to a new country was a fresh start, but the only guarantee was that they might be able to build a better future for themselves and their family. So, from day one, they got to work quickly, quietly, and diligently. Values such as stability over risk-taking, saving over indulgence, and safety over unpredictability governed everything they did and the decisions they made. It was also what they expected of us, their kids. When my brother and I were growing up, they taught us to embody their same mentality and beliefs. They reinforced that these were the traits needed to succeed. Whether our Quiet Culture values come from the community we were born into, our ethnic background, or even the temperament of our parents, many of us get our first inkling of the Quiet and Loud Culture difference the moment we start working. This is what researchers call organizational socialization, and it's the process by which we begin learning new norms and the behaviors and skills that are expected of us. As we experience things like onboarding training, being paired with a workplace mentor, or just observing how people carry themselves in meetings, we start to internalize these spoken and unspoken rules. Soon, we begin to see there are a set of behaviors that feel contrary to what comes naturally to us. Excerpted from Smart, Not Loud: How to Get Noticed at Work for All the Right Reasons by Jessica Chen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
