cheryl
Administrator
Staff member
Introverts are excluded unfairly in an extraverts’ world - Psyche
Life as an introvert is rarely easy. Ever since I graduated, I’ve been compelled to work in open-plan offices. It’s exhausting. Imagine being engaged in a task that requires high concentration, such as looking for a lost earing in the middle of a tennis court. Now imagine that an automatic ball launcher keeps shooting balls directly at you. Wouldn’t you get tired quickly, and be much less efficient in your search? This is how I feel during my work, when sudden and repeating distractions are ‘shot’ at or near my desk.
I wish I could say these types of challenge are limited to the work environment, but that’s not the case. For my most recent birthday, a friend bought me a dinner at EatWith – a meal-sharing platform. You’re invited to dine in the house of strangers who cook for you and other participating guests. I would enjoy the food and cultural experience if I didn’t have to go through the excruciating labour of small talk with random people. ‘Sounds like fun,’ I said politely to my friend, but privately my immediate sense was that this was yet another ill-designed platform for introverts.
The struggle of an introvert doesn’t end in the office. Networking at conferences, some with thousands of attendees, is a central part of an academic career. Picture yourself entering a huge hall, with bright neon lights, hundreds of people in each aisle, and a background din that forces you to yell to be heard. In a typical two-hour poster session, you’re expected to acquire the information you need while also efficiently introducing your own work to colleagues. As an introvert, the experience is equal to riding a terrifying rollercoaster while having to maintain a big smile on your face.
Life as an introvert is rarely easy. Ever since I graduated, I’ve been compelled to work in open-plan offices. It’s exhausting. Imagine being engaged in a task that requires high concentration, such as looking for a lost earing in the middle of a tennis court. Now imagine that an automatic ball launcher keeps shooting balls directly at you. Wouldn’t you get tired quickly, and be much less efficient in your search? This is how I feel during my work, when sudden and repeating distractions are ‘shot’ at or near my desk.
I wish I could say these types of challenge are limited to the work environment, but that’s not the case. For my most recent birthday, a friend bought me a dinner at EatWith – a meal-sharing platform. You’re invited to dine in the house of strangers who cook for you and other participating guests. I would enjoy the food and cultural experience if I didn’t have to go through the excruciating labour of small talk with random people. ‘Sounds like fun,’ I said politely to my friend, but privately my immediate sense was that this was yet another ill-designed platform for introverts.
The struggle of an introvert doesn’t end in the office. Networking at conferences, some with thousands of attendees, is a central part of an academic career. Picture yourself entering a huge hall, with bright neon lights, hundreds of people in each aisle, and a background din that forces you to yell to be heard. In a typical two-hour poster session, you’re expected to acquire the information you need while also efficiently introducing your own work to colleagues. As an introvert, the experience is equal to riding a terrifying rollercoaster while having to maintain a big smile on your face.