Walking into my first Emerging Women Leaders meeting (now Emerging World Leaders), I felt every inch of my difference. I was the only man in the room and a member of a historically underrepresented minority navigating a new professional landscape. I didn’t come to challenge the space — I came to learn. My goals were honest and straightforward: find my voice, communicate more clearly, connect with a mentor, and understand what mentorship really means. What I discovered went far beyond skill-building; it reshaped how I think about leadership, belonging, and the responsibility of allies.

If growth happens at the edge of comfort, I deliberately stepped there. I wanted to break out of familiar echo chambers and sit with perspectives that weren’t my own. I hoped to learn what resilience, collaborative leadership, and strategic communication look like when they’re forged in rooms where women — often solving for extra barriers — lead with clarity and courage. So I listened first. That choice changed everything.

Listening to Find My Voice

I used to assume that “finding my voice” meant speaking more. This group taught me otherwise. The most powerful voices in that room spoke after listening — they validated others, built on ideas, and reframed conversations so everyone could move forward. Rather than rush to respond, I focused on fully understanding each speaker’s point before contributing. I listened to understand, not to respond.

The result was simple and surprising: when I did speak, my words carried more weight. They were more transparent, more precise, and more connected to what was already being discussed. Authenticity, I learned, isn’t about being the loudest — it’s about being relevant, thoughtful, and rooted in the conversation.

Redefining Mentorship

I came looking for a single mentor who would chart my course. The group offered something richer: mentorship as a mosaic.

  •  Peer mentorship. Fellow emerging leaders became my immediate sounding board. Their feedback was practical and timely, and their shared challenges felt directly applicable to my own growth.
  •  Reverse mentorship. I realized I had perspectives to offer as well. My experiences as a member of a historically underrepresented minority brought a viewpoint that enriched discussions. Mentorship became two-way learning.
  •  Collective mentorship. Over time the group evolved into a living “board of advisors,” where collective insight, practical tools, and mutual accountability were available when I needed them.

That shift changed my approach: mentorship, I learned, is plural and iterative. Instead ofsearching for a single guide, I started building a network of mentors — peers, senior professionals, and learning communities that together offered the guidance I needed.

Allyship as Active Practice

Being the “only” in the room gave me a vantage point and a responsibility. Allyship, I learned, is not a label; it’s a set of daily practices.

For me, that meant:

  •  Amplifying. When a colleague made a strong point, I repeated and credited it in larger forums so the originator received visibility.
  •  Creating space. I paid attention to who wasn’t speaking and invited quieter voices to share.
  •  Challenging assumptions. When biased language or blind spots appeared, I called attention to them gently and used my position to advocate for equity.

My presence in the group shifted from personal development to collective support. The work of finding a voice became the work of helping others be heard.

The Way Forward

My journey with Emerging Women Leaders (now Emerging World Leaders) is ongoing. It has been humbling and transformative. I entered hoping for clearer communication and a mentor; I leave this chapter with a stronger, more authentic voice and a community of mentors. More importantly, I gained a clearer sense that leadership is not a title or a gender — it’s the courage to be vulnerable, the wisdom to listen, and the commitment to lift others as you climb.

If you’re considering stepping into an “unlikely” space to grow — because of gender, background, or experience — know this: the places where you feel most out of place are often where your greatest lessons live. Lean in. Listen well. Be ready to give back. Your
presence can expand not only your own horizons, but the possibilities for everyone in the room.