I’m not an expert. However, I repeatedly find myself in situations that require I play the part of one. Whether it’s leading an Audubon nature camp through a forest I’ve never been to, teaching a water sport that I’ve never tried, working as a sous-chef under James Beard nominated chef Ryan Roadhouse, or founding a global teen entrepreneurship launchpad, I find myself in places where others assume I am a specialist.
Stepping into Nodoguro, a renowned Japanese omakase restaurant, was a leap of faith. With no professional cooking experience, a pair of new slip-resistant shoes, and my nicest black T-shirt, I was in no way ready for a job of this caliber. As time passed, my nervous anxiety slowly became cautious optimism. That is, until Ryan casually asked if I wanted to help run their first-ever ramen pop-up; I said yes, the adrenaline and anxiety flooding back into my veins.
Those first few weeks at Nodoguro made me realize how little I knew. The staff only use the Japanese names for ingredients, Saba, Negi, and Katsuoboshi. I do not speak Japanese. Every day, I made a new dish, with only a brief demonstration. Things intensified as I prepared and plated the 22 courses in front of guests, providing a full description of each dish while serving. I was anxious that the high paying diners would see through my feeble display of confidence.
I later learned that what I was feeling is called imposter syndrome. I came upon this term while working in the world of entrepreneurship. Imposter syndrome is the persistent fear that if you miss a beat, your whole facade will come crashing down.
At nine AM sharp on the day of the ramen pop-up, I arrived to find the head chef, Ryan, stirring a huge pot of broth with dark circles under his eyes. He had slept at the restaurant, stirring the broth each hour through the night to ensure it was perfect. I asked where the rest of the staff was. “It’s just us today” he replied. I threw on my work clothes and immediately got to cooking, preparing and setting up for the rush. We were expecting 150 customers. As opening neared, my anticipation, excitement, and anxiety grew, each person lining up outside only adding to it. I opened the doors to audible cheers of excitement. It was a whirlwind. Taking orders, delivering bowls, cooking, prepping, refilling, without a moment's rest; we barely hung on. As suddenly as it began, it was over. I sat down to catch my breath, counting the number of bowls served. Three hundred and six bowls of ramen in five hours. Every order through me. Throughout the entire experience, I felt as though I was barely able to manage. Sitting together recovering from the ordeal, Ryan grinned and said “you ran that like a pro Kai, I couldn’t have done it without you”.
It was then that I realized I had performed like those I admire. I realized the people I admired and sought guidance from have been in the same place I was, and continue to be. They don’t know everything, no one does. They maintain a growth mindset, and actively seek to improve; they embrace the discomfort of the unfamiliar. That same adrenaline that makes you sweat in a cold room heightens your memory and reactions. The need to seek out answers to questions that haven't yet been asked gives you knowledge others will appreciate and value, and the fierce desire to perform keeps you at your peak.
I am not an imposter, but a dedicated learner. No one has all the answers. Embracing the unknown and confidently charging into new territory draws out my very best self, helping me perform as an expert, even when I’m not.
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