Tiffany Jachja

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In a room where I'm often the "only one"


I live my life full of wonder, opportunity, and recognition. It drives me to create amazing projects, content, and opportunities for others. I’m never the same after those experiences. I’m further along, and sometimes that’s a lonely feeling. Sometimes I go first. I’m the only one from my company, age group, and identity in spaces where I decided to just “go“ for it.

I often feel so inspired yet equally frustrated in a room full of people just doing it already. I felt that way at The International Conference on Machine Learning (ICML) 2022 this year. Of course, if I had a bigger team and the same opportunities and support as other leaders, I would take those chances and run with them. Far far away, and I would do so many amazing things.

These people in the room have reason to be here. I count my shortcomings. How I’m close and far from my goals at the same time. I noticed how I don’t know how to answer the questions I pose to myself, like what can I do today?

I was networking at the conference in July when the size of my team came up as part of a discussion. I said that my team is the size of 2 engineers knowing full well that we had many great wins over the last year in delivering ML products. Someone smiled, asking if I was included in that team size. They talked about how they had led over 20 researchers on a project. I nodded along. Not getting to talk about the scale or impact of our team's work.

What I know now

Some people will only look to measure your impact through the size of your team or the longevity of your career. That’s unfortunate. I’m not going to be the kind of person that looks at things that way. Despite being ridiculed, bullied, or questioned into thinking what I have is not enough. I look at it as magic.

What I have now, I’m grateful for. I won’t forget that there’s magic in the whole process. I’ll never forget the magic that is me in every moment. I do the best with what I have right now. I empower myself and choose to be wholeheartedly welcomed in spaces where I’m often “the only one.” I’m not looking to forget or push away the pain of “yes, I could do more if I had more,” instead of wishing it away, I hold it closer to me. It’s my power.