The first culture I ever truly admired was punk. It shaped me more than any formal training ever could. Punk wasn’t about perfection; it was about action. You played guitar even if you didn’t know how. You didn’t fake it till you made it; you simply did you. That spirit has stayed with me through every stage of life and leadership. In hindsight, it probably saved me from ever falling into impostor syndrome.
As an immigrant from Argentina in the UK, I wasn’t sitting around wondering if I belonged. I was being told I didn’t, while also being asked, time and again, to prove what I could do to earn my space. Even with a strong track record, I had to justify my worth repeatedly. So instead of doubting myself, I found myself in the exhausting cycle of constant assertion. If anything, I learned to survive without the luxury of doubt. I like to believe that this awareness has shaped the way I lead.
I’ve also come to value the strength of diverse teams. Mine include women, immigrants, and many resilient individuals from the fringes. People who’ve had to fight harder just to be seen are often those who bring extraordinary perspective, grit, and creative force. I feel most energised when surrounded by voices that don’t fit the traditional mould.
One of the clearest signs I look for in my team is the urge to say yes too quickly, or to over-deliver before even being asked. That eagerness, especially when performative, is a quiet warning bell. It doesn’t always point to current burnout, but it often signals a path leading there. I’ve seen it particularly in women and people from minority backgrounds, those who feel they must constantly prove their worth just to justify their presence. Anyone operating from that place will eventually hit a wall. I know the rhythm, and when I see it, I try to help them unlearn that mould, using humour and personal perspective, as they challenge, reshape and push culture forward.
I strongly believe in the power of old-style inputs. Books, films, music, and dance. Always dance. When we allow ourselves that kind of nourishment, the output often takes care of itself. Even in environments where productivity is treated as the ultimate metric, no one gives their best when they are depleted. Stillness is not a flaw. Even when punk songs tend to be fast (and I’m a fast thinker), in leadership I have taught myself the value of slowing down.
There will be harder moments. Unavoidable ones. Difficult conversations. They also need time and space. The three minutes of a song. Used not as an excuse to avoid them, but as a pause to face them with clarity.
There’s a phrase I love: What does it take to be happy? Decisions. It takes decisions. The decision to take your time, or to mosh-pit yourself. Whether it’s about self-worth, supporting a team, or navigating a tough call, the thread that runs through it all is intention. Grab the guitar, even if you think you don’t know how to play it. Not everyone will be comfortable with directness, but it’s a style you’ll come to appreciate and trust. Leadership isn’t about doing everything; it’s about doing what truly matters to you, and doing it in a way that keeps you whole.
About the author:
Paula Alvarez Vaccaro is the founder of Pinball London, an award-winning production company that challenges traditional storytelling in film and media. With over three decades in the industry, she is known for her bold approach to leadership, pushing boundaries and amplifying diverse voices through her work. Paula is also a Women Emerging Guide.
