The Hidden Game of Getting Ahead at Work

I grew up believing a simple truth: work hard, keep quiet, and success will follow. My mother raised me alone, working double shifts to keep us afloat. She'd come home exhausted but proud, telling me that honest work was the ticket to a better life. When I became the first in my family to graduate college, I carried that belief with me like a talisman into my first real job.

What a shock that was.

The Baseball Bat at a Hockey Game

Picture this: I'm at my desk before anyone else arrives, leaving after the janitors start their rounds. My work? Flawless. My reward? Watching colleagues who arrived at nine and left at five get promoted ahead of me. It felt like I'd shown up to play hockey with a baseball bat—swinging hard but playing the wrong game entirely.

The thing is, I was useful. Really useful. The person everyone dumped last-minute tasks on because they knew I'd get them done. But useful isn't the same as impactful, and it took me far too long to understand the difference.

The Dinner Table Advantage

Here's what nobody tells you when you're from a working-class background: professional success isn't just about the work. It's about understanding a whole set of rules that nobody writes down, nobody explains, and everybody else seems to know instinctively.

I started noticing patterns. The colleagues getting ahead? They had older siblings in the industry. Parents who worked in offices. Mentors who'd casually mention over coffee how to navigate office politics. These unspoken rules got passed down at dinner tables I'd never sat at, in conversations I'd never been part of.

Meanwhile, people like me—first-generation professionals, minorities, anyone without that built-in network—we were dropping like flies. Not because we couldn't do the work, but because we didn't know the game.

The Four Questions That Changed Everything

After one particularly frustrating experience where I spent three nights redoing a project because I'd misunderstood what my manager actually wanted, I developed a system. Before starting any task, I now ask four questions that seem obvious but aren't:

Why are we doing this? Not the surface reason, but the real objective. Is this about solving a problem, impressing a client, or something else entirely?

What exactly do you need? A quick email with bullet points? A formal presentation? A rough draft for discussion? I learned the hard way that "a report" means wildly different things to different people.

How should I approach this? Should I work solo or loop in the team? Do you want creative solutions or safe, proven methods? Are there political landmines I should avoid?

When do you really need this? Because here's a secret: every deadline has a shadow deadline. The official due date might be Friday, but if your boss has a Thursday morning meeting where this comes up, Wednesday afternoon is your real deadline.

These questions felt awkward at first. I worried about looking incompetent. But you know what? They made me look thorough and professional. More importantly, they saved me from countless late nights fixing work that missed the mark.

Hidden Doors Everywhere

Once I started understanding these unspoken rules, I began seeing opportunities I'd been blind to before. That casual conversation by the coffee machine where a new project gets mentioned? That's not small talk—it's a chance to volunteer before the official ask goes out. The optional team lunch? Not really optional if you want to be part of the inner circle where real decisions get discussed.

I used to eat lunch at my desk, thinking I was being productive. Now I realize those "wasted" thirty minutes building relationships were worth more than an extra half-hour of spreadsheet work.

The Outsider's Edge

Here's something that took me years to appreciate: being an outsider isn't just a disadvantage. Yes, we have to work harder to decode the hidden rules. Yes, we make mistakes that people with more privileged backgrounds might avoid. But we also bring something invaluable.

We see things differently. We question assumptions that everyone else takes for granted. We bring perspectives shaped by struggles and experiences that make organizations stronger, more innovative, more real. The very thing that makes us feel like we don't belong is often exactly what our teams need.

I remember proposing an idea in a meeting that seemed obvious to me, based on my background. The room went quiet. I thought I'd said something stupid. Then my director said, "We've been trying to crack this problem for months, and none of us thought of that." My outsider perspective had become my superpower.

Making Peace with the Game

Do I wish the workplace was truly meritocratic? That hard work alone was enough? Absolutely. But wishing doesn't change reality. The game has rules, spoken and unspoken, and we can either learn them or let them defeat us.

These days, I still work hard—that's not negotiable for me. But I also make sure the right people know about that work. I build relationships intentionally. I ask those four crucial questions. I speak up in meetings even when my voice shakes. I've learned to play the game without losing myself in it.

The truth is, mastering these unspoken rules isn't about becoming someone you're not. It's about understanding the full scope of what professional success requires and deciding how to navigate it on your own terms. It's about taking your unique background—the very thing that might make you feel like an outsider—and turning it into your greatest professional asset.

For those of us who didn't learn these rules at family dinners, the learning curve is steeper. But maybe that makes us hungrier, more observant, more appreciative when we finally crack the code. And maybe, just maybe, as more of us rise through the ranks, we can start making some of these unspoken rules a little more spoken for the next generation coming up behind us.

Because everyone deserves to know what game they're playing.