INTRO – Deborah
Let me introduce an extraordinary guest author Amanda Peterson. I have had the privilege of watching Amanda grow up as she lives right next door. I remember how both her parents were overjoyed with the arrival of this beautiful little towhead. Amanda could not have had a better start in life as both her parents are incredibly kind and loving. I’m so honored to have Amanda share her experiences as “The Youngest Woman in the Room” on this platform. She, in such a short period of time has experienced more personally and professionally than I had in my first 40 years of life. You will be so amazed when you read Amanda’s trials and tribulations as a young professional woman, all before her legal age of 21. So without further ado ponder and revel in Amanda’s story.
AMANDA
My introduction to the workplace was not exactly traditional. I officially began a career in Massachusetts state politics at 17 years old and, at the time, gave little thought to what it would mean to navigate that world as a woman. I was young, ambitious, and genuinely in awe of the world I had entered. Call it naive, but as a proud Conservative American, I believed that if I worked hard, showed up prepared, and proved myself, that would be enough – I would be enough.
In many ways, I still believe that. Experience has simply made my understanding of the workplace a little more complicated. And this was never more true than when my so-called political peers accused me of sleeping with my married boss. As a 19-year-old running for a State Committee seat, I expected my age and prowess to be questioned, not my integrity. Yet suddenly, the conversation was not about whether I was qualified. It was about my character. A whole different ball game I was now forced to analyze and play.
If the intention was to embarrass me into withdrawing, it had the opposite effect. I worked harder, gradually becoming less intimidated, and learning quickly that allowing other people to determine whether I “belonged” would make it impossible to survive in politics – or anywhere else. I also learned something from the people who defended me as well as the people who attacked me. Some barely knew me. Others gave me opportunities to defend myself publicly. It was an early lesson that politics can reveal both the worst and the best in people.
A month after winning that election, I ran for Secretary of the Massachusetts Republican Party – still a teenager. During that election, my opponent looked directly at me and announced that I was simply too young to do the job. But I made my case, and I won. Evidently, others disagreed with my oh so seasoned opponent.
I was walking into political meetings with people who had decades more life and career experience than I did. Within a short time frame being the youngest person in these prestigious rooms became routine, even while the rest of my life was fairly ordinary. I was in college, living in Boston, going to class, building friendships, and figuring out adulthood. Unsurprisingly, however, those worlds did not always jibe.
It was pretty ironic being told I was too young for responsibility while finding myself in such “adult” situations. I wasn’t even old enough to drink, yet I frequented events where alcohol was the centerpiece which was also very commonplace. On occasion, I took care of people twice my age who had overindulged. There is something uniquely strange about being considered too young to start a career but old enough to manage the consequences of adults who already had them.
But at any age, politics also rarely stays within the boundaries of a traditional workplace. Colleagues become friends. Friends become allies. Mentors become confidants. Meetings become dinners, fundraisers, conventions, and of course shouting above the music in bars. Every professional relationship can quickly carry personal and political consequences.
As a teenager, distinguishing between friendship, mentorship, loyalty, and political convenience was not always easy. Part of me thinks this never gets any easier, even as an adult. Someone can genuinely care about you and still disagree with you politically, just as someone being friendly does not necessarily make them your friend. Alliances can feel deeply personal until circumstances change. Learning those boundaries required an adeptness that was foreign to me when I started.
And as professional boundaries were crossed, and those around me commented on my appearance before they cared to hear what I knew, what I had accomplished, or what I could contribute, the reality of being a woman emerged as yet another challenge. Thankfully, my parents raised me to see the vanity in a victim mindset, so I learned to recognize iniquitous behavior, address it directly, and not allow other people’s assumptions and insolence to overshadow my valuable work. In fact, some of these experiences challenged my own assumptions about women in professional environments.
I once assumed working alongside more women would naturally mean greater understanding and support – a “sisterhood” of sorts. Instead, I found that gender does not guarantee solidarity. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of women have supported and advocated for me tremendously. Others have shown me that women are just as capable of competition, exclusion, and political maneuvering as anyone else, and many times just as ruthless.
Perhaps most frustrating is being assigned motives that were never mine. I don’t enter relationships looking for conflict or viewing people as adversaries; my instinct is to treat people with kindness, give them the benefit of the doubt, and respond to conflict cordially. But in my line of work, someone – “adversaries” and “allies” alike – may decide you are their opponent before you’re even acquainted based entirely on whispers and clichés. You know, like middle school.
In a similar fashion, I’ve watched people justify behavior they would condemn in someone else, bend rules when they became inconvenient, and treat ethics flexibly when the stakes were “justified.” Principles, regrettably become negotiable when power, victory, and money is involved. Sharing a political affiliation with someone does not mean you share the same moral compass.
But I cannot know the motivation behind every dispute, nor can I attribute every setback to sexism. There were opportunities I thought I had earned that went elsewhere and moments when I questioned whether my age or gender influenced how I was perceived. But sometimes, you simply did not get the job, you find yourself in the wrong, or someone else was better qualified.
However, there remains the reality that women are sometimes evaluated on things that have very little to do with their work – even in America.As a conservative woman, that realization initially made me uncomfortable – especially when supporting ideologies are supposed to value women highly. I did not enter professional life expecting to interpret my experiences through gender, and I still do not believe gender explains every difficult interaction. Some of the people who have respected and advocated for me most strongly have been men. Some of my hardest experiences have involved women. Reality is more complicated than either narrative allows.
In my teens, I thought being strong meant proving that nothing could get to me. If someone questioned my age, I would prove them wrong. If someone spread a rumor, I would work harder. If someone underestimated me, I would make sure they eventually had a reason not to. I still have that instinct, but I no longer believe professionalism requires tolerating everything simply because you are capable of handling it.
Being so young in this field made me continuously aware that an ordinary night out, a photograph, or an offhand comment could be taken out of context and used against me. While my college friends could simply be 20-year-old girls in Boston, I often felt like I had to think several steps ahead. I understand now that being respected, being liked, and being useful to someone are three very different things. And politics has a particularly effective way of confusing them.
I became more private, more selective about who I trusted, and more aware that comradery and convenience can look remarkably similar.I made mistakes. I trusted some people too quickly. I underestimated others. I got stabbed in the back. I learned that titles do not automatically create respect, friendships do not automatically survive politics, and loyalty is an underrated virtue.
But I also met extraordinary people, found mentors who expected nothing from me except that I work hard, developed true friendships I deeply value, and had opportunities I never imagined I would have at this age or any. For all its complications, I would never tell another young woman to stay away from politics. I would tell her to walk into the room fiercely.
But I would also caution: pay attention to who respects you when you have nothing to offer them, learn the difference between a friend and an ally, establish your boundaries early, and never confuse becoming less naïve with cynicism.
My experiences, though arduous, clarified what I wanted beyond the political sphere. Watching rules be bent, boundaries crossed, and principles become negotiable gave me a greater appreciation for structure and integrity. Those experiences led me to pursue a paralegal certification and strengthened my determination to become an attorney – to take the advocacy skills politics taught me into a field where evidence carries weight and accountability is more than a talking point. In an unexpected way, the experiences that made me question whether I belonged in certain rooms also helped me decide which door I wanted to burst through next.
I entered Massachusetts politics believing that working hard would be enough, and I still believe hard work matters more than almost anything. But I have discerned the formidable value of character, even when – especially when –compromising it seems like the easy way out. Politics taught me how to advocate for myself. The law is where I hope to use that instinct to advocate for others.
I walked into my first political room at 17 without considering what being the youngest and a woman there meant. Knowing what I know now, I would still walk into that room again. I would just command it differently.
OUTRO–Deborah
When I look back at my early days as a young professional I can relate to having to experience challenges that I thought were conquered with the 2nd wave of feminism which began in the early 1960s and lasted through the 1970s. At that time they focused on issues such as equality in employment, politics, and sexuality, unlike the first wave which primarily aimed at securing women’s right to vote.
I learned quickly that they had not been conquered through many episodes of sexual harassment and income inequality. Fast forward to Amanda and she eloquently points out that as of the 2020’s it is still a work in progress. The movement would go through two more waves. The 3rd emerged in the early 1990s as a response to the perceived limitations of second-wave feminism. It sought to address a broader range of issues and embraced diversity and individualism among women. The 4th wave began around 2012 and focused on issues like sexual harassment, violence against women, and gender equality, using digital tools and social media to drive activism. It gained momentum from high-profile scandals and movements such as #MeToo and the Women’s March. This fourth movement seems to me more like a rehash of all the waves combined but accentuated through social media on steroids.
Feminine Findings looks at the history of Women’s challenges in all arena’s of life. Amanda’s content focuses on the political world which politics in itself covers almost every aspect of our lives. I commend Amanda’s fortitude for not letting the “system” defeat her. The “system” will always present with good and evil whether male or female, young or old. The lesson is to be true to yourself and always strive to discern the honorable from the unethical. Always be on your guard, and pursue truth. Amanda, you have proven yourself a force at such a young age and I look forward to watching your journey as you endeavor to Command the room .
