Status and Fitting in vs. Belonging
Tiffany Chang
April 21, 2022
Do you ever feel like you're undervalued at work? What about feeling like you have no place in the industry no matter how hard you work?
I've felt both for the majority of my career. For a long time, I've kept this my little secret.
It may be difficult to imagine that I'd even feel a tiny bit of this. From the outside, it seems like I've "made it," having been a conductor at brand-name music schools and gained a few professional accolades. I felt embarrassed and entitled saying I'm not happy.
The reality is that I've always struggled feeling like my work has no value and feeling like I don't belong in our industry.
A bit of background
I conducted an orchestra of non-performance majors at Oberlin. At the start of my time there, I heard from existing members about how they've felt "unwelcomed walking down the halls" or that the "Conservatory looked down upon them." While acknowledging musicianship hierarchy was inevitable in any institution, I was determined to resolve the "feeling unwelcomed" part. I wanted to turn that around to improve inclusivity for the institution.
I worked my butt off, and I made some progress. But it never felt enough. Then I realized something: I was feeling the same thing as a faculty member. I struggled to belong, to feel welcomed, to feel wanted by my institution. Now, this was interesting because unlike my students, I had a place among the rest of the faculty, but why didn't I feel I belonged there? Why did I feel like I needed to prove myself in order to fit in or be accepted? Why did I feel like I wasn't a worthy collaborator unless I had conducted at The Met or won a Grammy?
I've tried to understand why I feel this way. I quickly realized I wasn't going to find those answers in our own industry. So I went looking elsewhere.
Here's what I've learned along the way - how fitting in is not the same as belonging, what honesty has to do with it, and how status plays a crucial part.
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Belonging is about status and affiliation
A reputable conservatory (or really any organization) seeks to maintain or improve their status by finding affiliation with something of equal or higher status. This is human nature, and as organizations are led by humans, we can't discount that factor. When humans think about affiliation, we ask ourselves,"Who's next to me? Am I like them? How do I rank? Do I want to be associated with them? Does the affiliation help improve my status?" Affiliation often equals status.
I began to see that simply being affiliated with a group of non-performance majors lowers my status in the eyes of the institution, regardless of my actual artistry and ability. It's difficult to separate the leader from the group. I could possess artistry and skills that surpass the abilities of my ensemble, but usually I am judged first by my affiliation. The Conservatory aims to belong to a certain status. And they protect themselves from anyone who threatens that endeavor, such as my orchestra. And the fear of losing status via affiliation drives behaviors to distance themselves from any undesired affiliation, resulting in my orchestra and I being categorized as an "other."
As a product of traditional conservatory training (I went to Oberlin), I subscribed to these status stories that ended up governing my professional life as universal truths - what I should feel proud about, what I should feel ashamed about, and how I should define my own worth as an artist. I believed in these so much it's no wonder that I craved the belonging I'd feel from being categorized as an "us" rather than an "other."
Here's something interesting: I heard from an interview with Ron Carucci that "when we get categorized, our amygdala gets triggered, and we feel unseen, unknown, and unsafe." The amygdala is the part of the brain that deals with fear and responds to danger. When it gets triggered, our defenses go up and we feel the opposite of belonging.
I always hated the fact that I'm so easily triggered and go on the defensive to prove my worth at Oberlin and within the industry (or worse, to automatically label myself and my ensemble as "less than" to make some people feel more comfortable). I know that most people are genuinely supportive and well-meaning, and it's only a few people that feel their status is threatened. But having that amygdala triggered makes it less likely for me to trust anyone in the institution, and I recognize that as unhealthy. Understanding that there is a biological reason for this defense response is actually quite helpful and can help me regulate and reflect on my own default responses, which may not always be rational.
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Being honest with Ron
Ron Carucci's work explores the importance of honesty in the workplace. He shares that people don't trust a company's purpose until they see it activated and put into action. And when actions don't match stated intentions and values, we feel a lack of trust - and belonging.
In my situation, the Conservatory has put initiatives in place to promote inclusivity and accessibility to musical opportunities for non-performance majors. The available course offerings, resources, and opportunities are abundant and amazing, yet students still feel like they don't belong. On paper, students should feel strong belonging because they have access, but the actions and mindsets aimed to protect status prove to be incongruent with the promise of accessibility.
An example of such an action is my being told to remove an institutional tag in a social media post showcasing my orchestra's class work. The subtext? Fear that the affiliation with a lower-status ensemble would damage its image. An instance of such a mindset was revealed by a remark about my orchestra by an administrator, "what comes out of their instruments doesn't matter." The subtext? What's the point - they will never be good enough for us to care.
Regardless of good intentions, actions and words quickly override them. And I'm more convinced that promise and action are two different things. When we don't see things being done in alignment with what's been promised, we become frustrated, less likely to trust and feel belonging.
It is perhaps preferable for the Conservatory to say, "We are exclusive; we don't serve you; you don't belong here," and follow through with actions that protect status, than to say, "We want to open our doors to every kind of musician," and demonstrate actions and mindsets that go against it.
Here's more from Ron Carucci on being who you say you are.
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Fitting in vs. belonging with Brené
Considering status and how we wrestle with it reminds me of how Brené Brown distinguishes fitting in from belonging: fitting in is changing who you are, and belonging is being allowed to be yourself.
In order for my orchestra to fit in, it meant being more like them (the performance majors). Only when you play as well as the performance majors will you matter. In order for me to fit in, I must help maintain or elevate the institution status. Only when my professional affiliations will boost their status through association will my work matter.
Chasing status is inherently hoping to fit in.
And I realized that I have been focusing on fitting in (Brené Brown's changing who we are) rather than belonging. I've been trying to change who my orchestra is fundamentally in order to get them the recognition (and belonging) they deserve. But the reality is they don't need to achieve equal status as the performance majors. And for myself, I've been putting an unhealthy emphasis on chasing status symbols to be worthy of fitting in my own institution. But ultimately, they're the ones who get to decide what is worthy, which may not be aligned with how I define worth for myself.
Seeking belonging in terms of being allowed to be who you are is very different. It requires you to think hard about who you are fundamentally and your values. For my orchestra, it could be reframing "not good enough like them" to "good enough within the context of our goals." For me, it could mean chasing work and affiliations that help me define my purpose and implement the changes I seek to make in the industry. Neither requires us to insert the Conservatory and its status needs in our narrative.
Here's a long, but worthwhile, interview with Brené Brown.
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A quote from Seth about status
I'll end with sharing a quote from Seth Godin about status roles: "Shame is the status enforcer. What we have done is orchestrate a culture, that if you're surrounded by people with more status than you, we've instructed you to feel shame. To avoid shame, we make bad decisions, decisions that honor marketers or those that would manipulate us as opposed to what's best for us..."
The fact that I don't feel like I fit into the institution (or industry) status brings shame. The fact that I feel like I'm not contributing to elevating the institution (or industry) status also brings shame. This shame conveniently protects the status of the institution (or industry), and keeps me out of it.
Understanding that was powerful.
I play a role in this problem too. My shame led me to make the poor decision to continue seeking approval of the industry (and enable this culture of status chasing to continue).
Here's the podcast from Seth Godin on status roles (cued to 3:17)
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My takeaways
It's been a pleasure to share this journey of reflection and discovery. I hope you got something along the way.
Here are my 5 key takeaways:
Status drives actions and mindsets. Affiliation equals status. Recognize when this is working for you or against you.
There is a legitimate biological response when we are categorized. Our guard goes up and we are less likely to trust or feel belonging.
Alignment between what's promised and actual actions leads to trust, safety, and ultimately the space to feel belonging.
Seeking status can result in fitting in, but not necessarily belonging. It can drain us of our energy and prevent us from being our best selves. Belonging does not require you to change who you are fundamentally.
Feeling shame leads us to make poor decisions to fit in and seek status - only to cater to other people so we feel like we can belong.
I'm still a work in progress, but understanding all this helped me gain more clarity and feel more grounded in navigating my own career under my own terms.
This post was adapted from a "Conductor as CEO" post at www.conductorasceo.com
