Falling Into Myself: How PW’s Culture Changers Program Helped Me Grow Inwards and Outwards
By: Andrea Panaligan
As eloquently put by Gen Z online nomenclature, I do not want to be perceived. I had a birth chart reading a few weeks ago that told me the same thing (full disclosure: I’m a Taurus sun, Aries moon, and Taurus rising), but I didn’t need the stars to tell me something I already knew; that I squirm at the idea of being seen, being known. Perhaps that explains why I always come back to writing, regardless of how much I complain about how difficult it is. At least through writing I can control what people know about me and what they don’t—I’m honest and vulnerable, but at a comfortable distance.
Before my onboarding session as the newest Training & Development Intern at PW, I warned a blockmate who got in the program with me that she was about to see my Intern Self: a faux-confident facade I typically put on in professional situations; the manifestation of faking it ‘til I make it. I think it’s a near-universal experience, feeling embarrassed whenever our different worlds collide. I simply do not have faith in my own true self to be sufficient in all kinds of social contexts, so when I have to appease two kinds of audiences at once—in this case, my internship and my blockmate-turned-co-intern—it can easily feel apocalyptic.
But of course it wasn’t the end of the world. In fact, it was the complete opposite.
I knew I wanted to intern for PW the moment I heard they had open positions (or likely even before that). I was in my first internship then; Nikki, one of PW’s co-founders, held a positive psychology webinar that we were all required to attend. And while I normally detest required webinars—it was late 2020 and Zoom fatigue was getting very real very quickly—Nikki’s presentation was unlike any webinar I’ve attended before. I was bitten by the PW bug; in the next six months I would spend with the organization, it became evident that anyone who gets close to PW falls in love with it, and I was no exception. Nikki told similarly smitten attendees to email her if they were interested in interning for PW, and reader, I was in Nikki’s inbox in no time.
I think what pushed me to join PW was curiosity. I wanted my hands on the secret sauce; I wanted a glimpse into the utopic positive workplace. I admittedly had my doubts. After all, no one is more disillusioned about work than a college student. But come my interview, Chloe, PW’s then Learning & Development Associate, actually read my application. Come my onboarding session, John, PW’s other co-founder, actually remembered the task I submitted as part of my application. The elusive secret sauce, it seemed, was just as simple as that: remembering names, acknowledging the work being done. It made me feel like the work I would do was meaningful.
And first impressions do last. Every task I did for PW felt enriching, like the organization was helping me grow as I was helping it grow. At the time of my internship I’ve worked as a freelance writer for about two years, and while it’s something I’m extremely passionate about, there are moments where I feel like a disgruntled aspiree working to the bone in the name of a pipe dream. It was easy to feel stuck, and the constant scrutiny my work went through made me a bit averse to feedback. Objectively I understood that feedback and being edited were important, but it can also be frustrating, looking at my pieces and only seeing the things I had to correct. PW’s practice of positive feedback felt like a reprieve, reminding me that feedbacking is a collaboration, not a haranguing that I had to hold my breath to endure. The thick skin I developed as a survival mechanism in my industry of choice was peeled away; PW showed me that strength can also be found in vulnerability.
That was another thing that surprised me about PW: they encouraged us to be the best versions of ourselves. Interns are stereotypically known as the corporation’s unpaid serf, drowning in thankless work and menial tasks. But PW is concerned with the individual growth of their interns, cultivating an environment of learning that I continue to look for in other job opportunities. I always looked forward to the check-ins and check-outs we do at every meeting, which, as simple as they seem, really make a difference.
But it was the individual consultations with team members that I really came to appreciate during my internship. We were encouraged to reach out to anyone about anything, from chika sessions with PW’s Tactical Marketing Associate Kelly to career advice with John and Nikki. It was these consultations that I personally found most difficult—I wasn’t used to asking for help, or being honest about what I wanted. There were consultations where I wasn’t even sure what exactly I wanted to ask, yet somehow they would always figure it out. During my first IC with John, where we spoke about being intentional with my personal goals, I was in a coffee shop with a friend, and I transferred to another table because I didn’t want my friend to hear me admit the things I wanted to achieve. Frankly, I wanted to be a writer, but the word always got stuck in my throat, as if my body knew it was never going to happen. Why admit something that was likely unattainable? But there I was on Microsoft Teams, telling the CEO of the organization I intern for that okay, yes, this is what I want. And he listened, and agreed, and helped me unlearn that self-sabotage. “That was the CEO?” my friend asked when I returned to our table. “‘Kala ko tropa mo lang, CEO na pala.”
I never really called myself a writer because I’ve always felt I didn’t have the guts to back it up, but hearing the people at PW call me a writer, even just in passing, was incredibly affirming. I think it was the first time that I actually believed it—I spent years denying myself authenticity, and here they were, seeing me, perceiving me, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. I’m sure everyone got so sick of me talking about PW all the time, but it was so unlike the toxic work cultures we’ve all been used to that I wanted everyone else to experience it as well. I wanted to spread PW’s ethos far and wide.
As my six-month placement neared its close, it became clear to me that this opportunity to work with something like PW was rare. I don’t know where else I can meet mentors who are masters at their craft but are not hesitant to guide my growth; or people who are genuinely interested in what each other has to say even if it doesn’t necessarily involve work. I didn’t know any other organization that would let me spearhead a major project, who valued my input even when I myself couldn’t find value in what I had to say.
I definitely carry the positive work culture with me, still. I used to do the check-ins and check-outs with blockmates before delving into our meeting agenda, and I actively apply positive feedback in my work as an editor. But it’s the self-belief that I hold closest: by giving me room to grow, PW opened me up to a world of possibilities I wasn’t able to see on my own. Had I kept downplaying my writing, or the goals I wanted to reach as a writer, I never would have had the courage to write for my dream publications, or interview the stars of my favorite Netflix show. Apparently all it took was for someone to believe in me—and somehow I got a roomful of them.
Positivity is a ripple, as they say, so perhaps a workplace like PW doesn’t have to be as rare as it is now. I hold the belief that the work is not done until PW is no longer the exception; and as part of that ripple, I hope I can do unto others what PW has helped me achieve.