When I fell in love with Hip-Hop (I mean Insurance)

I was the “nerd” in school. I was the girl who earned an ABC scholarship in my sophomore year to attend private school for the latter half of my high school career. I was the girl who was mercilessly teased for being “too tall”, “too skinny”, “too black” and for “talking like a white girl”. I was also the girl who became a mom at the age of 16. And again at the age of 18. 

Fast forward to 1984. Now a single mom of 20 without a college degree and badly bruised self-esteem, I took a job as a file clerk in a small independent insurance agency in Union, NJ. When they discovered I could do more than put things into alphabetical order, I was promoted to Customer Service Rep. I loved my job because I was learning and helping people understand the wonderful world of auto insurance (buy me a glass of wine and I’ll tell you stories of the wild times in our industry in the 80’s. But I digress………………………). It felt good to have a job with my own desk.

I never intended to build a career in insurance but it was all I knew. As my daughters grew, so did their needs along with my need to make more money. I moved on to work for two other agencies and finally landed a job as a Service Representative with a local insurance company. Proud to have a slightly larger desk, I made friends with the underwriters who were happy to explain to me how they did their jobs. But without a degree, advancement was not an option for me. I connected with a recruiter who sent me on an interview with an insurance company in Madison, NJ. I interviewed for a position as what was then called an Agency Service Representative. I put on my navy blue suit, white blouse with a bow, nylons and sensible heels. I was confident I had interviewed well. But I never heard back.

After a few weeks of playing the interview over and over again in my mind, I called the recruiter’s office only to find that the person I’d been working with was no longer employed there. So in a move that was totally out of character for the person I was then, I sent a handwritten note to the person I’d interviewed with. Imagine my delight and surprise when I heard back within about a week. He remembered me and explained that the position they planned to fill never became available. But he asked if I’d be interested in interviewing for a position as an Underwriting Assistant. I calmed my heart palpitations and agreed to the interview. Who got offered the job on the spot, at the end of the interview? This girl!!!

And that’s when insurance magic started to happen. Still operating in a world where if you were not a white man with a degree from the right school, your advancement options were limited, I focused on learning as much as I could. I need to especially thank Olivia Redd and Joe Kinsey for the generosity of spirit with which they took me under their wings and taught me everything they knew about personal lines underwriting. 

So here is the really good part……………..

In 1992, I began my CPCU journey. My employer offered on site classes so I signed up. I have always been a sit-in-the-front-and-ask-questions kind of chick. This brought me to the notice of the VP who was teaching the class. Unbeknownst to me, my department needed another underwriter. This VP suggested that I be considered. My boss called me into her office to tell me that I’d been considered, that they were going another way, but that I was going a good job and should continue to do so. Something about the conversation wasn’t sitting right in my spirit and a few days later, I realized what it was. She hadn’t seriously considered me. She was just doing damage control by telling me that. But the really wild thing was that until that moment, it had never occurred to me that a promotion to underwriter was an option for me. 

Even now, when I think about that situation, my mind is blown that I really allowed what others thought (or what I thought they thought) influence how I defined my possibilities. When I tell you that it was on and popping from that moment forward…..

That conversation lit a fire inside of me and I was determined to become a full underwriter. I went to her boss (I think she was on maternity leave or something) and had a conversation. I thanked him for considering me and asked for guidance on what things I should work on so that I would be a more viable candidate for the next opportunity that came along. He told me that I was doing a great job, that I didn’t need to do anything other than to continue doing the great job I’d been doing. So what does one do with that information? 

Well, I’ll tell you what I did. I wrote a note to thank him for his time and I recapped that conversation (yes, my “thank you note” was my Trojan Horse used to document that conversation). Some months after that, not one, but two underwriter spots were available. Now married and pregnant with my third child, I knew it would be a challenge but I marched (probably more like waddled…) into his office and asked for one of those positions. I was able to demonstrate that not only had I maintained the same level of performance but I’d also done some extra cool stuff like gone back to school part time and received numerous accolades from producers for my underwriting prowess (my favorite being when an agent told my underwriter that I’d done a “yeoman’s job” engineering a risk to get the deal done).

He told me that if I could be back from maternity leave by a certain date, one of those spots was mine. Being young, I shared my good news with my work friends. Let’s just say that I didn’t get the response I expected. Rather than congratulations, I got folks who felt I should take to the streets with a torch and a pitchfork because if I was a “white girl, they wouldn’t have put that restriction on it”. I considered that. And yes, it would mean cutting my maternity leave short by about a week or so. But barring any health issues, I was determined to not let this opportunity pass.

I returned to work as an underwriter and from there, moved upward an onward in my career to amazing positions with amazing companies where I continued my love affair with insurance.

I’ll tell you another time about “The Lost Years” between 2007 and 2014 and how I reinvented myself.  Suffice it to say that I am well in touch with my inner TraciDiva, Queen of Insurance.