Many years back, when I could barely imagine starting a company, I was invited to the first analyst day for Greenhouse Software. It was hosted in the penthouse suite of some fancy hotel - a room I certainly never would have seen before without an invitation from someone else. I could touch all the walls in my hotel room for that trip from the bed. 

I was sent as a replacement for someone else on the team. He was double booked. Apparently the other obligation was more important, so I - the most junior person on the team - was sent to represent our recruiting blog. 

As I walked into the room and recognized many faces, I wondered what the hell I was doing there. Most of these people were folks I followed online. I read every blog they shared, but never had a meal with them.  Most of them had no idea who I was. I had been in the industry working for HR technology companies for almost 10 years at that point. 

When I introduced myself, I tried to make a joke. I said something along the lines of “my name is Katrina and I’m a replacement for someone else.” I laughed, they laughed. I thought I nailed it. 

During the lunch break, featuring a buffet of appetizers and snacks, everyone clustered off with their closest friends in the group. I stood there awkwardly. Alone. Probably thinking too hard about something I said earlier in the day. Just a guess, I don’t remember what I was thinking. But I remember what happened next. 

A short blonde lady marched straight up to me and said, “Hi Katrina, I’m Laurie.” The urge to say “yeah, I know” was real. It was PunkRock HR - Laurie Ruettiman. I was already a big fan. Then she said bluntly: "Never ever introduce yourself as a replacement. Ever again."

Her final act of kindness? She personally introduced me to every person in the room.

Every time I go to an event, I try to pay that kindness forward. I think it’s the exact kind of community effort we all need right now. We need connection. So many people I spoke to this week have been feeling "it." Alone. Like they’re standing in a room watching the world, the friends, the news. They don’t know how to interrupt this feeling. 

Maybe we can be the kind guides that make the introduction and interrupt the loneliness it’s so easy to fall into when it feels like everything is uncertain. I feel it. I get this cowboy complex when everything feels uncertain, like I need to do it all alone. I need to work, focus more, pour all my energy out, and that's not real. 

Now isn’t the time to pretend that uncertainty isn’t always part of the equation. Instead, I think we face uncertainty by bringing people along. Making the introduction. And reminding people they’re not just some replacement with some extra kindness.