I arrived at the banquet hall alone. I was sure there were plenty of people from my company there, since we were the ones hosting it, but I saw no one I knew. I was seated at a table near the back with seven strangers from companies with names like Insiqlo and Polecat.
They were all a little on the meek side—engineering types—so I took one for the team and started a robust conversation.
“Hi, tablemates! Rachel Weiss.” I jabbed a finger at my name tag. “So nice to meet you, Katelyn, Dan, Edgar…” I inclined my head at each of them as I read their names, smiling warmly. Their little faces broke into relieved grins. Edgar in particular looked like he couldn’t believe his luck in being seated next to an extrovert. Truth be told, he also seemed delighted by my choice of attire. While the others were wearing drab button-downs and khakis—even poor Katelyn—I wore my beloved green wrap dress with black tights and booties. A pineapple charm necklace drew attention to the oodles of cleavage spilling from the dress’s low neckline.
“So,” I said as people took their seats at the tables around us and waiters began filling wineglasses. “What did you all do to get invited to this shindig?”
“Well,” Katelyn began timidly, shaking her head no at the waiter’s proffered options of red or white. Poor Katelyn. I indicated to the waiter that I would have the white, including Katelyn’s portion. “I led a company-wide initiative to go carbon neutral by2024. We decided to go off the grid… wind and solar… and reduce garbage and recycling waste to zero. We actually ended up beating our goal and going carbon neutral quite a bit earlier than expected… but it is a pretty small company, so…”
I stared at her open-mouthed, my wineglass halfway to my lips. Dan asked her an interested question, which I completely missed as I was suddenly feeling intensely inferior. But I gathered myself, took a bracing sip of wine, and practiced my active listening as the rest of my tablemates told us their accomplishments.
Note to self: Ride bike more. Try zero-waste lifestyle. Use hair dryer less.Who was I kidding? My diffuser gave me life.Try guided meditation aimed at banishing impostor syndrome. I wonder if that would work if I actuallyaman impostor.
“And what about you, Rachel?” Trey turned to me after explaining his project to transform a local landfill into a park.
“Me?” I beamed at them, my mind working hard; how could I spin “I bought some mugs at Goodwill” into something big and impressive? And then I was saved by a woman tapping at the microphone onstage. “Oops, looks like they’re starting.”
“Hello, hello, everyone!” The conversation rumbled to a halt as everyone turned their attention to the pretty blonde in a truly excellent floral dress. As a fellow woman in tech and wearer of excellent dresses, I found myself eager to know who she was—an environmental consultant or even a CEO perhaps? Had she once used meditation to cure impostor syndrome? But after a gushing introduction, she handed the microphone over to a lanky, bald nerd in a black suit—my company’s CEO. Ugh. I should have known. What I wouldn’t give to hear more speeches from women at events like this.
I turned my attention sulkily to my wine as Mr. Wonderful droned on about how proud he was of everyone here todayrepresenting local companies doing great things. Thankfully, a distraction arrived in the form of dinner. Several steaming dishes were placed on our table; it was family style, each dish carefully labeled. I glanced at the options: beef ragout, chicken parmesan, shredded pork and beans, and three-cheese zucchini casserole. I rolled my eyes, but no one else at the table seemed to notice the irony. With a sigh, I helped myself to some ragout and casserole, tuning out the sound of my CEO’s self-congratulatory spiel about how hard his company worked to leave a smaller footprint—I’ve seen no evidence of this—and how much he personally loves the planet.Doubt it.I noticed he did not see fit to mention that most of his own money was going toward a penis-shaped rocket that was decidedly not carbon neutral and would serve as his personal escape vehicle when the rest of us burst into flames.
I snagged a passing waiter and held out my empty wineglass for a refill as a spokesperson for another company was introduced next. This one was, if possible, even balder. I could tell it was going to be a long night.
Several speeches later, it was time for Q&A with the people who had spoken, all currently seated onstage. Audience members stood one by one and asked sycophantic questions, like whether the tech sector could be considered a leader in sustainability, their voices dripping with desperation at the chance to address this panel of visionaries. Poor Katelyn surprised me by asking a question with a bit of backbone: whether any of their companies would consider joining a pact to go carbon neutral within five years. My CEO gave a patronizing chuckle and tap-danced his way around what was, essentially, aHell no.Katelyn was trembling when she sat down. I think it was this that made me stand up, or perhaps the way the smug millionaires had been making my blood simmer all evening, or maybe it was just all the wine I’d had.
“Yes, you in the green dress,” floral maxi dress called out.
The traveling Q&A microphone was handed to me.
“Hi.” My voice lingered sweetly on the word. “Thank you so much for this fabulous event.” My CEO gave a hearty “You’re welcome,” eyeing me appreciatively.
“The food was delicious, but I couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t exactly on theme.” A prickly silence followed; I could tell they weren’t sure where I was going with this. “Beef, chicken, pork, and dairy.” I ticked each one off on my fingers. “Beef alone produces nearly thirty pounds of carbon dioxide per pound of food. That’s three thousand pounds of CO2for the amount of beef in this room alone, and the other options aren’t far behind in emissions.” I paused, looking around. Edgar was gazing down at the crumbs on his plate, aghast. “That’s a bit ironic for a sustainability event, don’t you think?”
“Thank you, Miss…,” my CEO began.
“Rachel Weiss.”
“Thanks, Miss Weiss, but people gotta eat.” He laughed and added, “Am I right?” as the crowd laughed with him.
“People caneatplant-based foods.” My smile felt forced now. Floral dress woman was watching the panel closely, frowning.
“Listen.” Mr. Wonderful leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.Ugh.“I appreciate the point you’re making. But let me ask. Areyoua vegan?”
There were titters throughout the room.
“No, I am not. But I feel guilty about eating animal products. Isn’t that the unspoken agreement we’ve all made? To feel guilty about it?”
People laughed. One person clapped. And then I noticed Katelyn’s downcast eyes and empty plate.
“Was there even one vegan dinner option?” Floral dress womanlooked like she might cry. “Wait. This is a room of smart people who care about the planet. Raise your hand if youarevegan.”
At least a dozen arms shot up in the air. A round of applause followed.
“With all due respect,” I continued, “I think we could have showntrueleadership in this area if the dinner had been mostly plant-based.”
Whoops and cheers followed my words.I could get used to this.
It took a while for the noise to die down this time, but when it did, my CEO said, “That should be a personal choice. We wouldn’t serve a roomful of people alternative food that they didn’t consent to.”
