Most women my age (if I said 25 would you believe me?) remember the Carrie-Mr. Big saga fondly: the she-loves-him-he-loves-her-he-marries-Natasha-etc-etc back and forth that tormented us until Sex and the City went off the air in 2004. Hidden between Carrie’s sometimes painful puns and Samantha’s sexploits were nuggets of wisdom that teenage girls like me in the late 90s and early 2000s used to guide us through love, life and friendship. One such nugget I still often recite came courtesy of season 3, episode 3 (“Attack of the Five-Foot-Ten Woman”) where Carrie receives a thank you note from Big’s wife, Natasha – who used the wrong spelling of “there.” In a typically pensive moment, Carrie reflects: “I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it, and chair committees, and write thank you notes, and I can’t feel bad about that.”

“Dang,” I remember thinking. “Carrie is so spot on. I will never have perfect hair, and I can’t feel bad about that!”  The realization that we all have to accept our shortcomings, flaws and imperfections to embrace who we are was liberating. Unfortunately, that feeling was fleeting – and over the past decade plus since season three of Sex and the City, I’ve often struggled with accepting myself for exactly who I am.

Entering the global health sector was intimidating to say the least. My first foray into this “space” (that’s global health speak) was in graduate school, when I began to take global health classes to fill the void left by my MPA required core courses. I’d grown up surrounded by family in the healthcare world, worked in domestic healthcare as a marketing and fundraising professional for years and missed being in the healthcare world on a daily basis. I was so familiar with the pediatric hospital and domestic healthcare system – how different could global health really be? Turns out a lot. Global health was a whole new world. (See what I did there? World? Global Health? Carrie Bradshaw and I have so much in common.)

My new classmates were doctors—and not just regular doctors. I actually had one classmate who was a neurosurgeon who had also started a non-profit in Peru. What? Who were these people? I began to feel vastly under qualified, out of place and unintelligent in the sea of doctors, nurses and students with years and years of experience in remote settings and far away locales. Who was I kidding? My most extensive “international experience” was a trip to Europe after I graduated college. What role did I have to play in global health?

Being a GHC fellow sometimes feels a bit like those first few weeks in my global health classes. How did I get here? Why did you choose me? I’m a communications specialist—how am I contributing to health equity? Has there been some sort of mistake?  I struggle to connect my work with my passion for reproductive health equality, even though my placement organization does amazing work in the field. Sometimes it feels that as someone with a desk job and administrative skills, I have no place in global health. Often I feel envious of my co-fellow, Sruthi, and her research skills. “That’s what a global health practitioner looks like!” I’ll think. Or I’ll read a blog by a fellow in Africa and see the hands-on work they get to do and again feel that my work isn’t as important.

Last night, I read an article that was assigned for our mid-year retreat called “In Praise of the Incomplete Leader” by Deborah Ancona, Thomas W. Malone, Wanda J. Orlikowski, and Peter M. Senge. While reading it, Carrie Bradshaw popped into my head (I’m assuming most of my co-fellows had this same reaction). Instead of aspiring to be a complete, perfect leader or global health professional, we should aim to accept ourselves and seek out our strengths and discover what we have to offer our placement organizations, our communities and the global health space.

I was excited to see GHC embrace the idea of “Uncommon Roles for a Common Goal” in their recruitment process this year. I think this campaign captures what our sector needs: diverse, inter-disciplinary teams of leaders who can work together to conquer problems in global health. Much like the four leadership capabilities outlined in “In Praise of the Incomplete Leader,” each of us brings a unique set of skills, life experience, background and outlook to our fellowship and to the global health sector. Each is as important as the next. Without capacity, structure and processes, direct services can’t be provided to clients. Conversely, all those systematic resources mean little without clinical resources and providers to administer services. We all have a role to play to reach our common goal.

So, as Carrie Bradshaw so eloquently said way back in Season 3, you may not be the woman with the perfect hair, or the one who can wear white without spilling. You may not be a clinician, or a researcher, or a sense-making leader. But you can’t feel bad about that. Because you are you – and global health needs you.

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