The Most Ignorant Interview Question I’ve Ever Been Asked
- Dorothy Mashburn
- Jul 23
- 3 min read
The stupidest thing I have been asked in an interview?
“Have you managed internationally?”
It was asked with some amount of smugness. I almost laughed. I almost over-explained.
I’m an immigrant. I’ve built my career in a country I wasn’t born into. I’ve succeeded in a language I didn’t grow up speaking. I’ve navigated corporate systems that weren’t designed for someone like me -systems that quietly assume leadership looks and sounds a certain way (not my way!).

And yes, I do manage internationally.
Every. Single. Day.
Even defined in the narrow, traditional, “American executive working with Europe from a cushy corner office” kind of way. Even defined by the default assumption baked into so many of these questions -the one shaped by a white, male, U.S.-centric lens.
I was already doing it.
I was managing across time zones. I was leading vendor relationships in Europe and Asia. I was aligning strategy with Canada, Costa Rica, Mexico, and South American teams.
And I was doing all of it while navigating unspoken expectations and power dynamics.
But apparently, that wasn’t obvious enough.
But what bothered me wasn’t just the question. It was the bias underneath it. It wasn't a genuine attempt to understand how my experience would help create impact for his organization. It was a sorting mechanism.
It was clear that no matter what I said, he would not see my experience as valuable.
The Immigrant Executive is Already Managing Internationally
If you're an immigrant building your career in a new country, you're managing internationally by default.
You've translated the language, the expectations, nuance, power structures, and corporate culture.
You've led teams without shared history. Built trust without shortcuts.
You've adapted faster than your peers because you didn’t have the luxury not to.
That’s international leadership in its purest form.
But unfortunately rarely recognized that way.
What HE Should Have Asked
I understand (or try to) what he might have been getting at. But the framing could have gone a lot differently.
A better question might have been:
“How do you lead across cultural and geographic lines?”
“How do you build alignment across different working styles?”
“What’s your approach to cross-border collaboration?”
Because the answer would be:
Let me illustrate how I thrive in environments most people find overwhelming.
How I lead without assumption. How I adapt without losing impact.
How I’ve succeeded in two (or more) systems simultaneously and delivered results that outperform.
But he did not ask that.
The Lesson (For Every Immigrant Woman Who’s Been Doubted)
This is what I want you to hear if you’ve ever had to explain your value twice just to be seen once:
You don’t owe them an explanation for your global experience.
You’ve lived it. You’ve built it.
You are the evidence.
You don’t need to mold your story to fit someone’s limited frame.
You don’t need to make them comfortable in order to be credible.
If they can’t see the value of someone who’s led across cultures, languages, and system -that’s their limitation, not yours.
The Real Question Is: Are They Ready for You?
Because what I’ve learned after years of playing down my story to sound more “digestible” is that no amount of proof matters to someone who doesn’t understand what they’re looking at.
So I stopped explaining.
At first, not entirely. The people-pleaser in me still hung on tightly.
I wanted to be liked. I wanted to be accepted, validated, seen.
I thought: maybe if I framed it better. Maybe if I softened my tone. Maybe if I listed more bullet points. Maybe if I smiled more.
But that only got me further from myself. And it never changed the outcome.
Because the truth is-some people refuse to see what doesn’t fit their definition of leadership. They expect a version of confidence that looks and sounds like them. They hold up a mirror and call it objectivity.
Chasing that was an exhausting, impossible goal.
So I started doing something that felt rebellious at first: I stopped bending.
I started editing less. I started naming things plainly. I started showing up with my actual voice.
And I started shifting my own expectations.
I stopped expecting them to "get it." And I started expecting me to own it.
And slowly, the shift happened. Not all at once. Not without fear. But it came.
I stopped over-explaining and started over-positioning. I stopped hoping for validation and started commanding respect. I stopped aiming to fit in and started choosing spaces where I could lead.
I started owning.
And everything changed.
I help women of color (and allies) find their voice, own their worth, and negotiate with confidence. If you're done explaining and ready to start owning, I can help.
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