An Immigrant's Journey Through Corporate America

A story of blending in, leaning in, and getting out.

Photo credit: Christopher Burns on Unsplash.

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Editor’s note: During Yi Xue’s 25-year corporate career, she worked hard to rise through the ranks. But at a certain point she realized her status as a “double minority” was impeding her progress—no matter how much her employer presented her as an example of the company’s commitment to diversity. With devastating clarity, Yi describes her earnest attempts to blend in and lean in—and what finally convinced her that it was time to get out. — Sara Eckel

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Part 1: Identity

On a cloudy winter day in the Bronx, I arrived at a major healthcare organization’s headquarters to meet with its Information Technology leader, a client of the company I worked for, to discuss an upcoming project.

In a windowless room with fluorescent lights, a middle-aged man sat at the end of a large conference table looking at his laptop.

“I am Yi,” I said, extending my hand. “I am the manager who will be leading our team to support your data center project.”

He looked up from his computer screen, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Hello!” he said. He remained seated as he took my hand, his palm cold and his grip firm.  “You are a double minority leader!”

I swallowed hard, smiled back, and took a seat. For the duration of the meeting, he never introduced his name.

This happened early in my management career, but the scene has stuck with me. These two identities of mine—female and non-white—were front and center when he first saw me. The words popped out of his mouth without a thought. It left me wondering: How many times have I been labeled with these two identities in people’s minds or subconsciouses, even when the words were not uttered out loud?

Part 2: Executive Presence

Eight years later, I was leading the services development portion of the company’s latest flagship project. I spent much of the year working out of the company headquarters in California, living out of my suitcase and flying around the globe. (On one flight, a United Airlines flight attendant delivered his congratulations to my “Million Miler” status while in midair.)

The hard work paid off. The year the product launched, we broke a company record by delivering over $100 million in bookings. So when I met my boss for my annual performance review, I was eager to discuss this success and my prospects for promotion.

I sat across the table from my boss, an executive who championed meritocracy and integrity as the top measures of leaders. I felt confident that I had delivered on these fronts. I had been in a middle-management position for several years. I had crushed the targets set up at the previous year’s review and nailed the meritocracy and integrity requirements.

I had my pen in my hand and my notebook open. We went through everything—my numbers, my targets, my feedback. But the subject of my promotion never came up.

As we approached the end of our allotted meeting time, my boss started to collect his laptop accessories. I looked down at my notebook, the page full of new initiatives and new numbers for the next year. I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

“What are your thoughts on my career development? Do you think I am ready for the next level?”

“Oh, you are not ready for the next level yet.” The answer came out quickly, as if he had been anticipating the question.

“What should I be working on to get ready then?”

“You need to work on your executive presence.” With that, he closed his laptop, signaling the conclusion of the meeting.

The compliant Asian-American immigrant in me—the one brought up in a culture insisting on humility being a virtue—wrote “EXECUTIVE PRESENCE” in block letters in my notebook, with a pen that felt warm from being held for too long.

The gritty, hard-working business leader in me screamed silently: Executive presence? You mean I need to be white and put on a suit?!

I walked out of the meeting room, deflated and tired.

Part 3: Brotherhood

If you’ve worked in corporate America, you’ve probably heard conversations like this one, which I walked into at an offsite leadership meeting:

“That home run at the end of the ninth inning was just unbelievable!” said Joe, whose voice was even bigger than his 6-foot-3-inch and 200-plus-pound physical presence.

“I was already in bed!” said Bill.

“You had another drink after I left the bar, didn’t you? Or was it more than one? You know you can’t handle the good stuff without me!”

“Big Joe can handle his drinks no matter how late it is and still manages to beat us to the meeting in the morning. That’s a special talent!” said Bob. He never wanted to miss a chance to throw a soft punch at Joe.

Other than the meeting host, who was everyone’s boss, Joe, Bill and Bob were the most senior leaders in the room.

For a corporate manager, this is a familiar scene. It only took a few leadership offsites for me to learn that team bonding was done over game-talking and bantering.

The compliant Asian-American immigrant in me wrote “EXECUTIVE PRESENCE” in block letters in my notebook. The gritty, hard-working business leader in me screamed silently: Executive presence? You mean I need to be white and put on a suit?!

I was never good at sports or swapping playful barbs, but I could learn this, I told myself. It could be fun.

One day, I arrived at a management meeting where people were discussing the Rose Bowl. It seemed like a good opportunity to join the conversation. I had lived in Lincoln, Nebraska, home of the Cornhuskers. I knew college football. Or I thought I knew.

“It is going to be a passing game,” I ventured. “Both teams are from the South, and teams from warm weather tend to utilize passing instead of running.”

“Wow! Look who knows her football games!”

A friendly laugh erupted. Before I could enjoy my moment, the topic switched to last night’s baseball game, and then a baseball game that was part of a senior leadership event that had occurred years before I joined the company. I had no knowledge of baseball.

I looked around the room and caught the eye of the other newly promoted manager. She smiled, and we both shrugged.

I realized that bantering was meant to be conducted within a small circle—of men. It was meant to showcase the bond of brotherhood, of a shared history, of male power.

Part 4: Diversity

In early 2022, the senior staff met over a video conference to discuss the company’s diversity initiative. The man who had been recently promoted to lead the organization joined us. He first recited the company message and diversity metrics assigned to each leader. Then, to my astonishment, he started mumbling about how frequently he dined at Indian-American restaurants in his town. Loving Indian food was his support for diversity? I looked across the video screen and saw blank expressions with a few nodding heads.

I switched off my camera.

That year the annual Women in the Workplace report published by McKinsey & Company and LeanIn.org focused on what the authors called “The Great Breakup.”

The report found that in 2022 women leaders left their companies in unprecedented numbers. For every woman at the director level promoted to the next tier, two women directors left their company. Those who did stay faced the “broken rung”: Fewer women than men were promoted to the first step to management. The combination of both resulted in fewer women rising through the ranks.

At the entry level, women are “almost equal”—at 48%. But women hold only 40% of corporate management positions and 28% of C-suite positions.

The statistics are even worse for women of color. In 2023, for every 100 men promoted from entry-level positions only 73 women of color were similarly promoted. Women of color hold only 6% of C-suite positions.

In my 15-plus years working in corporate management, I attended many management trainings on DEI—Diversity, Equality and Inclusion—and joined regular company-sponsored conferences focused on supporting women and minorities. At company-wide meetings, attendances were often tallied and shared. The company conducted surveys,  gathered statistics, and showcased up-trending numbers as proof of progress. More than once, I was introduced as a female leader who had “made it.”

All the while, women remained the minority in high-level leadership roles, and competent women leaders were leaving the company.

In July 2022, I joined them. After devoting 25 years of my life to the corporate world, I realized that no amount of “leaning in” was going to change things.

Part 5: The Rearview Mirror

When I look back at that windowless room in the Bronx, I want to tell my younger self that I am proud of her grace in the face of that callous “double minority” comment, proud that she let the success of the project define her true identity.

When I look back at that manager in her performance-review meeting, I want to say “brava” for leaning in instead of checking out, for showing up instead of giving up, and for pushing forward instead of retreating at every opportunity.

When I look back at the bantering men at the offsite, I want to tell my eager-to-belong self that it is okay if you don’t always feel like you belong. And I am proud of her for trying to cut through.

Looking back, I now see the long road ahead for the younger me, and for everyone who looks like me. We will have to overcome the limitations imposed on us by simply being who we are. Our gender and skin color will always be identified before our capability, despite the optimistic DEI statistics our employers present. We must acknowledge how we’re identified and how we’re treated, but we must never accept it.

In Interior Chinatown, Charles Yu writes, “Working your way up the system doesn’t mean you beat the system. It strengthens it. It’s what the system depends on.”

Sometimes it is more powerful to quit than to stick around, to leave a toxic environment than become complacent.

Women, especially women of color, must never lose sight of what we are striving for. We must work together to build a network that enables us to connect, support and empower each other.

I’m glad I have the opportunity to write my stories and share my experiences of navigating corporate America as an Asian-American woman, and I look forward to building a community of people with open minds and caring hearts.

The system can no longer depend on me.

How has your identity affected your experience of working in the corporate world?