My First taste of networking in tech, and the courage I didn’t yet carry
No one really tells you how disorienting networking events can be; the buzz of conversations, the weight of name tags and expectations. For someone who doesn’t thrive in big crowds, it can feel like stepping into a room where everyone else seems fluent in a language you’re still learning.
In 2024, I went to my first networking event. I went, if I’m honest, because I felt behind. I was in my fourth year of university, and everywhere I turned, I kept hearing the same refrains: “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” “Opportunities come through people.” These phrases echoed until they felt like fact, and I measured myself against them, always coming up short.
The event was the ALX Career Fair. I didn’t realise it would involve a whole afternoon of networking. Booths filled the room, recruiters ready to meet students, companies showcasing opportunities. Around me, conversations unfolded easily: introductions, career stories, lighthearted exchanges over food.
I wouldn’t call myself a techie, at least not in the way many people there seemed to be. My studies lean more toward engineering, the tangible side of things. I had taken AI Career Essentials at ALX, which helped me personally, but in that room of developers, data scientists, and cloud engineers, it felt like I was walking in with a single GitHub repo while everyone else had entire organisations to their name.
Normally, I enjoy conversation when it’s about something I know or something that sparks my curiosity. But that day, I couldn’t find an entry point. The thought of saying the wrong thing or having nothing meaningful to add weighed on me. So, I made the safest choice: I had the complimentary lunch. Quickly. Almost too quickly, before it turned into the kind of social moment people use to bond.
The room seemed alive with energy, people got conversations going with so much ease. And me? I felt the urge to retreat, convinced I wasn’t in the right room. That what I needed was not conversation, but the quiet of my own space.
Or so I thought.
Looking back, leaving early didn’t protect me. It only delayed the discomfort of learning how to belong in spaces that don’t feel built for you. Networking, I realise now, isn’t about fitting in right away. It’s about staying long enough to discover that you have a place, even if it takes time to find your voice.
Late in 2024, I attended another event. This time, it felt different. It felt right.
IEEE’s annual KSYP conference turned out to be my kind of space. The people I met shared interests close enough to mine that conversations flowed more naturally. It wasn’t effortless, it still took nudging myself out of my comfort zone but it no longer felt like swimming against the current.
I began with the networking “template” we are often taught: ask about the other person, let them talk about what excites them, then follow the threads of connection from there. To my surprise, it worked. Not perfectly, not without nerves, but it opened doors to genuine conversations.
One of the people I met, someone I deeply admire, said something to me recently that has stayed with me: not every networking event is meant for you. The words landed with unexpected clarity.
I think that’s the truth I was missing earlier, that networking isn’t a one-size-fits-all playbook. Some rooms will drain you; others will feel like home. The trick is figuring out which ones are worth showing up for. And if all else fails, at least the free snacks make it a decent trade-off.