It’s the first work Monday of 2024 for me, as auspicious a Monday as the one the ball dropped for on January 1, 2024. And so I will honor it with a post.
It’s nothing short of amazing to me that at this time last year, I was struggling to be found as a coach. In July of 2021, I had stepped away from my full-time safety net with the very real hope that finally, I could and would dedicate more time and energy to this work that means so very much to me. I was already certified, my credentials and coursework up to speed, my motivation as potent an engine as when I first began. But after walking away from Corporate America and pounding the proverbial pavement for a year and a half, of creating my own website, social media accounts, and business cards, of telling friends and new connections that I was up and running, of being put on hold by promising but not-yet-ready recruiters, I was beginning to lose steam.
My clients thus far had provided me with encouraging feedback about my services. My course and client work were as fulfilling to me as anything I’d ever engaged in in my entire life. (There is no happier student in a coaching class, no happier a coach on a Zoom call, than me.) But the hustle of finding new clients, of creating a life as a coach that could sustain me, was wearing me down.
Throughout those months, as friends checked in and asked what I’d be up to for the week, I’d often say the same. “Network, post, apply. Lather, rinse, repeat.” But on the inside, the doubt began to bubble and trouble.
Am I actually meant for this coaching thing? Is the market saturated? What do clients need me for, when they have thousands to choose from?
Then July of 2023 happened.
I applied for and was hired by a company that provides coaching to clients as a work benefit. It was the second company of the kind I would join. Upon setting myself up on their platform, I took a moment to review the bio I’d crafted and used everywhere else. Nothing was missing, I thought. My credentials, personal mission, and niche were clearly stated. I knew that being fluent in Spanish was important, an audience I wanted to reach, and that was in there too. We all have a blind spot, though, so I talked to my business coach about it, because she’s a powerhouse.
The truth emerged quickly. “How will people find me,” I said, “a first-generation Spanish-speaking Latina, with this face?” In case a picture of me has eluded you, I am white. Very white. Nothing about my physical appearance looks even remotely Latina, or at least that’s what I’m told at every turn when I open my mouth and speak Spanish. “¿Pero tu no eres gringa?”
“What to do about this face, mama,” I said to my coach.
“Is the fact that you’re Latina in your bio?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s in that last line.”
“Well, make it the first line.”
Oh.
That afternoon, I changed my bio across the board. It begins, “As a first-generation Latina…”
And that. Changed. Everything.
In days, my clients found me. Many clients. Across all channels. Almost all of them are immigrants or first-generation American.
As if partnering with them weren’t its own gift, they’ve also given me answers to some of those troubling questions I was grappling with only 365 days ago. I share them here with every connection I have, service providers of every kind, be they coaches, lawyers, mentors, financial experts, health professionals, entrepreneurs, or educators, be they immigrant or first-generation themselves, be they established or aspiring. Because here’s the thing:
Immigrant and first-generation people of all walks need services from people who understand them.
So am I actually meant for this coaching thing? According to many of my clients, apparently, I am. Not because I’m the second coming of Tony Robbins, but because I’m the daughter of immigrants.
Is the market saturated? If it is, I don’t really know, but I’ve learned that there is a serious gap in Latinx representation in the coaching world. I am certain that other immigrant and first-gen representation is also seriously lacking.
What do clients need me for, when they have thousands to choose from? They need my, “I get it, Mija.”
Because things are not the same for immigrants, even if they’re fluent, even if they’ve secured a living at a decent company, even if they’ve landed a leadership role. An adult making a new life in a foreign country is up against unfathomable odds. They’re trying to fit in, to belong, to find their voice, their rhythm, their center, against another language, another dance, another force of gravity. Beyond them, alongside them, the American workforce is full of young, hardworking first-generation sons and daughters with brilliant and innovative ideas that they struggle to voice as they navigate two worlds.
This is the reality. And it’s one that I have a burning desire to validate. Shed light on. As a first-generation Latina…
You learn a lot about yourself as a coach. It’s the nature of this beautiful beast. The interchange between coach and client is symbiotic. That I’m learning doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me are the lessons themselves. Like…
- There is boundless grace in a struggle acknowledged.
- There is endless heartache in a struggle undermined.
- There is no stronger force in this world than the resilience, integrity, courage, and hope of an immigrant.
- We’re all looking for support from people who understand our specific challenges.
- Everything we bring to the table, be it the comfort of a word in someone’s native tongue, or the judgment-free nod of a cultural norm expressed, is a gift.
I have no words for the gratitude I feel for having found this particular part of the coaching world…or for it having found me. I feel like I’ve stumbled on a spectacularly cool corner café that I’ve passed a million times but never truly noticed.
In the year ahead, I promise myself and the people I serve to find more coaches on this corner, to look for ways to connect us, make us all more visible, for you.
To making this corner a whole BLOCK in 2024, kids.
Light of Day Coaching LLC 