Stories

Perspectives

Three continents, three different worlds: From the densest human capital pool in the USA, to the remotest rural village in South Africa, to the highest mountain in Austria - three weeks worth a lifetime! A photo-story to come soon...

Why equal access to opportunities matters (so much to me).

Or “Why it’s important that normal people can do great things, and doing great things isn’t reserved for exceptional people”

Or “The day I threw yoghurt on the floor when I was 7, mam got angry because it’s disrespectful to the starving children in Africa, and I decided that my yoghurt won’t solve starvation in Africa, but I will.”

Or "I can't pick a title"

From a research perspective, I could cite a lot of studies and show even more empirical evidence to make a strong case for the statement. Per my training and profession, that is my default methodology. Instead, today I’m shifting methodologies and am telling a personal story instead. I hope the case will be as compelling.

My sister and I grew up with a single mother with a minimum-wage job (an exceptional woman, to be clear. Anyone who knows Karin would agree that she truly is one of a kind). I had a happy childhood, not worrying about the big things in life. We lived for many years in a small apartment, I slept in the living room, and my mother and sister shared a bed. We didn’t live under the illusion that we didn’t have money issues compared to many of our peers and friends. They wore fancier clothes, they didn't need to be as careful with money. Yet, we never lived significantly different lives than them. We had access to the same amenities (schools, school trips, hospitals, food, neighborhoods), the same sports clubs, the same friends groups, and the same social life.

We grew up without any perception of limits to what we could become in life. We had no upper limitations, no lower limitations, and no sideways limitations. “We’re poor so you can’t become a lawyer or a doctor unless you bend the circumstances in crazy ways” - would have been a ridiculous statement to us. We were oblivious that in many (most!) other contexts, such limits are the reality of (too) many families.

Our mother always pushed us to do our school work properly, but without any expectation as to what we would become in our professional lives. She raised us to become strong independent women, to push through even if things are temporarily unpleasant ("beiss lai bissl die Zähne zom, geat schun"), and to have fun with it all. But she never had expectations nor pushed us to any specific career or into any specific life trajectory. Whether we’d want to become a hairdresser, a lawyer, or a professional skier truly did not matter. The only metric that defined our future was “do what makes you happy as long as it brings money for food on the table" (living on someone else’s pocket was not on the table for obvious reasons: you can't live on empty pockets). We started working early on during the summer vacations and alongside our studies to have some pocket money, but mam’s little money and government aid never had us too worried about paying for university fees or university housing. I finished a full cycle of studies (including PhD) without ever asking for a bank loan.

Out of my high school class (a vocational high school for commerce and tourism), three people went to university. My other class mates went into a vast variety of different careers, from secretaries, to hotel managers, to tour operators, to teachers, to accountants, to insurance brokers, to business owners, to mechanics, to electricians, and the list goes on. They all live well without a university degree, as do the three of us with a university degree.

We didn’t have, and neither did we need, a hero in our lives who helped us become those exceptional children who make the leap out of lower middle class. We were not exceptional in any way, we studied normal amounts in school just like the others. We didn’t have a teacher recommend us for special schools, scholarships, studies, or whatsoever. We graduated our normal schools in normal ways. And the we graduated our normal universities in normal ways. And then gradually and steadily worked our way up to exciting careers that fulfill us. Me as the development economist I wanted to be when I was 7, my sister a medical doctor.

Only much, much later in life I realized how unusual it is to have doors that are so open, and opportunities that are so equal, that normal children doing normal things can truly become whatever they want.

And only much later in life I realized that, had I been born in a different country in the same circumstances, I would never have been able to build the career and the life that I am building. At least not in a normal way. It would have been through some exceptional pathway - in some countries closer to something like a miracle.

I want every person everywhere in the world to grow up like the great chance I had to grow up. (*I grew up in Northern Italy, for those who don't know me.)

Seats at two tables

Earning "a seat at the table" is, ultimately, what many of us strive for in our professional development: a professional home where we work for what we are passionate about, and where we get to use our voice to be the change we would like to see in the world. 

Just recently, Claudia Goldin won the 2023 Nobel Prize in Economics for studying women in the work force, uncovering reasons for gender gaps in labor force participation and earnings. Getting a "seat at the table" (at whatever table, really) is - still today - harder for women than it is for men. Women have to work harder, be tougher, and be more driven to get these seats.

Meanwhile, there is a trend in my generation of building more flexible careers. Careers that allow for more frequent and faster switches, or for careers built on multiple pillars. This is true somewhat across the geographic spectrum: in prosperous countries by choice, in less prosperous countries by necessity. These lives - whether voluntary or involuntary - require even more drive, rigor, strength, and stamina.

So, if it is harder for women to earn our seat at the table, how hard is it to earn a seat at two tables? 

I lately learned about the inspiring story of two alumni of our Outing Club: the Gilbertson brothers. Both brothers have thriving intellectual careers, while climbing the highest point in 144 countries across the globe. One of the brothers also has a family. I found their stories inspiring and fascinating, and posted on my IG story about it. The reactions I got from female friends across the board was "Well, yes, you can do that. If you are a man". Indeed, thinking of examples of people with "seats at two tables", I could mostly think of men.

I find myself in the fortunate position* (*my therapist says I should recognize that most of it is hard work rather than luck) to have a professional home that I love and where I earned my "seat". And, at the same time, I get to volunteer for an amazing outing club in the weekends, leading hiking and skiing trips and as a club officer. I recognize that this isn't a little achievement - it's a quite big one. Am I "the best" at both tables? I am not. But I think I am good at both. And the goal here is not to be the best, but it is to earn my chance to have a seat at both tables. And, I think, as woman especially, it is important that we share our stories on how we get to these tables, how life feels like being at these tables, and how we can enable each other to have more of these seats (important at this point: infinite thanks to my support network!).

As a challenge to myself - and because I love skiing - I decided to sign up to a legendary ski mountaineering endurance race in February 2024: https://skithewhites.com/pages/last-skier-standing. I got a spot in the race and now I am beyond excited! Also terrified. But also excited. The goal, again, isn't to win the thing and not even to train to win the thing. The goal is to train hard, go beyond my limits, and prove yet again that I can earn my seat at the table.

I am planning on launching a little "Road to Last Skier Standing" - likely with IG as platform - that will accompany me in my day-to-day as development economist and as mountaineer for the next few months. If you'd like to engage on that, I'll be excited to have you along on the journey! Stay tuned here for more to come soon... :)

Fast forward to February 2024: I successfully participated in Last Skier Standing 2024! I am proud of my achievement (though not even close to the dream of the 24 hour mark), I made it out without an injury, and I had such a fun weekend. See here for results. I did 11 laps. I climbed and ski'd the same mountain 11 times in a row for 11 hours - around 30 miles (50 km) and 13,000 feet (4,000 m) of elevation. Some things I learned: 1) I really did train as much as I could, but there was a limit to it if I didn't want to neglect my job, and if I didn't want to totally neglect my social life. I truly have no idea how people train that can actually make it beyond the 12-hour-mark. Kudos! 2) The best part about it was my crew and the vibes. I loved the energy and the support! 3) It is incredible how far I can go beyond what feels like a physical limit. It really is. Is it healthy to go so far beyond? I'm not sure. I don't think so. 4) It is also incredible how much fancy nutrition can help. Energy gels and such. They are like liquid fuel. But, again, it is possible but my body was not happy with it. 5) While I love long outdoors days, I enjoy doing them slowly and enjoyably. And I like doing them to the extent that feels strenuous but healthy on my body. I learned that I do not enjoy ultra endurance races. Because I can do them, but they just don't feel good on my body.