The Interdisciplinary Round Table: Professional Reflections, Volume 2
Why I Started The Council on Interdisciplinary Advancement:
Building What We Needed and Wish Existed When We Were Starting Our Careers
By Harish V. , MBA, SRFSPE
Executive Chairman - The Council on Interdisciplinary Advancement
I was on a board call with two close friends, comrades I met in the trenches of our careers, discussing a challenge most organizations don’t talk about in year one: what we were building was working, but not yet coherent.
There’s no manual for building a nonprofit from the ground up. I’ve watched strong ideas build momentum, only to stall out before takeoff. And like many organizations, it didn’t take long for some familiar dynamics, politics, side conversations, unnecessary noise, to start creeping in.
I’ve never loved speaking “on behalf of an organization.” It often feels less like clarity and more like noise. I’m no spokesperson, and early in my career, I couldn’t even speak on my own behalf to advocate for my needs, wants, and best interest.
From a young age, I was wired to go above and beyond for others; no questions asked. Not just help when needed, but keep going, keep adjusting, keep giving. Whether it was enough was almost beside the point.
I grew up around parents and grandparents from The Forgotten Generation (one earlier than Baby Boomers) and The Lost Generation (born in the late 1800s). My great grandfather and mother were from the Transcendental Generation (late 1700s). It is safe to say, the mindset growing up was excessively old-school. Even The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd were as new age as you could get, and you would still get eyebrows. Respect was automatic. Authority wasn’t questioned. And of course, “Yes, sir,” “Yes, ma’am,” “respect your elders,” and “thank you, very much,” were second nature long before I even stepped into preschool.
At the same time, I landed right in the middle of a massive shift. I had an analog upbringing and then watched everything flip to digital in real time. Dial-up internet, early cell phones, Napster, the first wave of social platforms before they turned into what they are now. So, I ended up with this hybrid perspective, old-school expectations paired with a completely new operating environment.
And for a while, I just assumed that was normal. That the answer was to adapt, push through, and not spend too much time questioning whether the rules themselves still made sense. We’re part of a generation that experienced massive shifts, analog to digital, stability to volatility, certainty to constant change. Many professionals in the current workforce between 30 and 65 years of age have struggled and still do struggle with this paradox between upbringing, expectation, and the fast pace of technology & efficiency. The rules we were taught early on didn’t always hold up in the environments we later entered.
Trauma, Both Family and Workplace, is Generational
We hear the term “generational trauma” used more and more frequently these days. More often than not, it reflects patterns, such as beliefs, behaviors, and expectations, that get passed down without much scrutiny. What may have once been framed as resilience or toughness can, over time, become something else entirely. And it doesn’t just show up in families; it shows up in the workplace.
Early in my career, I experienced this firsthand. My father was battling Stage 3 cancer, and the guidance I received (both at home and professionally) was consistent: keep your head down, work harder, don’t push back.
At work, that translated into absorbing everything: criticism, offhand remarks, and at times, behavior that crossed the line. When I tried to make sense of it, the feedback I received was often reframed as something I needed to fix: be more positive, more agreeable, less affected. So, I internalized it. I convinced myself it was part of the process - something to endure rather than question.
I remember a moment during a performance review when a manager, in a matter-of-fact tone, said: “If something happens to your dad, you still need to pull your weight.” I didn’t respond. I didn’t escalate it. I didn’t even share it with my family. At that stage in my career, I had been conditioned to believe that speaking up would reflect poorly on me, not on the behavior itself.
I experienced firsthand what happens when outdated expectations collide with real-life challenges. At times, the workplace rewards endurance over humanity, and many of us internalize that as ‘normal.’ What I didn’t realize then was how common that experience is.
At that point, it didn’t feel like I had much of a support system. I felt isolated, like I was operating in an environment I didn’t fully understand and didn’t yet have the language to describe. Terms like burnout, boundaries, or even gaslighting weren’t part of the conversation. The expectation was simple: push through, don’t complain, and, if I was afforded the luxury of time, figure it out.
After decades...I started to figure it out.
I kept my head down and absorbed everything, the pressure, the criticism, the occasional cheap shots, and, more often than expected, deeply unprofessional and personal shots, assuming all of it was just the price of admission. And when something didn’t sit right, the default response wasn’t to question the environment; it was to question myself. Maybe I needed to be tougher. More agreeable. Less affected. More appreciative just to have a job. More like those who came before me.
That mindset has a way of compounding. When you suppress enough over time, it doesn’t disappear, it just builds. For me, it came out in moments of frustration that weren’t always directed where they should have been. And I carried that guilt with me.
What I didn’t fully understand then (but see much more clearly now) is that a lot of these environments run on inherited playbooks. People aren’t necessarily trying to create bad experiences; they’re repeating what they were taught.
“Suck it up.” "Put in more hours even if the work is done," "It's not about pay, you should be thankful to work for someone," “Pressure builds character.” “This is just how it works.”
And to their credit, many of them did endure it. They pushed through, adapted, and succeeded within that system. The issue is, they often expect everyone else to do the same without questioning whether the system itself still makes sense.
That’s where things start to break down. Because at a certain point, it’s not about resilience anymore; it’s about whether feedback becomes dismissal, whether expectations ignore reality, and whether boundaries are treated as optional rather than necessary.
That’s the cycle. And once you see it, it’s hard to unsee.
Why The Council on Interdisciplinary Advancement Exists
I wished there was an environment where a network of folks in similar situations were willing to listen and directly help, without some secret language of covert quid pro quos that you’d find in Bohemian Grove. You can’t even really get that at an alumni event unless you went to one of those schools or exclusive clubs where you belong as long as your parents were on the Epstein files. Camaraderie with co-workers usually ends the moment someone changes jobs.
The Council on Interdisciplinary Advancement (TCOIA) was conceptualized as a think-tank for the rest of us. We aren't a group for high-level executives or nepo-babies. We focus on the mid-level managers, directors, and VPs who don't have a trust fund or a C-suite relative.
We provide confidential workshops and mentoring for those with anxiety, neurodivergence, or trauma; barriers that traditional corporate leaders have ignored for decades. We are building our own version of "nepotistic facilitation;" not by being related, but by developing real relationships and camaraderie. If you can’t advance in your company, we help you find a sector that will respect your boundaries. I wanted an environment where people in similar situations could actually show up, listen, and help each other, without the unspoken rules, transactional undertones, or “who you know” dynamics that tend to define traditional networks.
Because the reality is, access isn’t evenly distributed. Many professional communities, whether alumni networks or industry circles, work exceptionally well…if you’re already inside them. If you’re not, the path in isn’t always obvious.
And even when you do build strong relationships at work, they often don’t travel with you. The moment someone changes jobs, that sense of camaraderie can disappear more quickly than it formed. The Council on Interdisciplinary Advancement (TCOIA) was built to address that gap.
At its core, TCOIA is a network for operators (mid-career professionals, managers, directors, and emerging leaders) who are navigating growth without a built-in advantage. People who are capable, driven, and looking for something more intentional than surface-level networking.
We focus on:
Creating meaningful, cross-industry connections
Providing practical mentorship and guidance
Offering structured, confidential forums to exchange ideas and experiences
Supporting professionals navigating challenges that aren’t always addressed, actively ignored, or persecuted in traditional corporate environments (such as anxiety, phobias, neurodivergences)
Assisting with transitions to other industries using the skill-set you worked hard to curate
In many ways, we’re building the kind of network people assume already exists, one based on trust, shared experience, and a willingness to help each other move forward. Not because of proximity or pedigree, but because of intention.
One Year Anniversary of "Our Thing"
The Council on Interdisciplinary Advancement celebrated its one year anniversary this past week. I didn’t start this with some grand, polished vision or a team of people behind me. It was a simple idea; build the thing I wish existed when I was coming up. So, I did it the only way I knew how: piece by piece. Filed the non-profit paperwork, worked through the 501(c)(3)-exemption, handled the USPTO side, built the site myself. No shortcuts, no handoffs, no outside funding. It’s not perfect, but it’s real. And it’s ours.
I’ve always thought of this as our thing. Not the closed-door, you-need-an-invite kind. The opposite. Something built by people who didn’t have a built-in network, didn’t have strings being pulled for them, and got a little tired of waiting around for access that may or may not come.
So, we started building it ourselves, and here’s what I’ve realized: when enough people show up with that mindset, people who are capable, curious, and willing to help each other, the dynamic shifts. The network stops being something you chase and starts becoming something you’re a part of.
For most of my life, “what’s next” felt like a moving target; something to chase, second-guess, or brace for. This past year didn’t magically solve that, but it changed how I think about it. Things feel more deliberate now. More grounded. Still a work in progress. Probably always will be. But for the first time in a while, it feels like forward motion on my own terms.
I’ve been trying to lean into that; taking things day by day, pay attention, learn, adjust, and give myself the space to think instead of just react. That’s what I hope we’re building with TCOIA: not just another network, but a place where people can actually show up, think clearly, connect meaningfully, and move forward with a little more control over where they’re headed. If that resonates, you’ll fit in just fine.
-HV, Exec. Chairman