I had almost forgotten Furman Hall. Almost. And I had almost forgotten the painful experience of earning a D in Econ 100 in that very building. As a Vanderbilt freshman 26 years ago, I hated Furman Hall. Yet there I was, walking past Furman to go speak to undergraduates about my career since graduation.

As a student, I was the poster child for mediocrity. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life, but it didn’t matter much at the time. As I saw it, my poor grade point average would likely prevent me from doing it anyway. 

One thing I was good at was daydreaming—I had always been a creative person. I searched out creative outlets on campus such as WRVU, where I hosted a radio show for a few semesters. I was also a hopeless car enthusiast. Much of my creative output appeared as sketches of cars on classroom desks or in the margins of my Econ notebook.

As I progressed through the College of Arts and Science, I figured out the whole college thing. My grades improved, and I graduated with a major in psychology and a minor in business administration. I felt that a good, well-rounded liberal arts degree from Vanderbilt might open doors my otherwise lackluster GPA could not. I moved to Boston where I landed an entry-level position in a mutual funds company. I loved Boston, but this was not a step toward a satisfying career.

Still, I could afford to buy a few things. One of my first purchases was a drafting table so that I could pursue sketching. That was when I finally figured out what I wanted to do … and it had nothing to do with mutual funds. 

I wanted to be a car designer. It took me six months to assemble a portfolio of original automotive designs to send to Detroit’s College for Creative Studies (CCS), one of the world’s premier industrial design schools. To my surprise, I was accepted.

Since I had never taken an art class, CCS was a unique experience for me. It was an absolute pressure cooker. My freshman class had 75 students who would compete for 20 transportation design positions available for sophomore year. Eventually, only six got jobs with automobile manufacturers. 

After my second year, I was hired as a design intern with ASC Inc., the industry leader in convertible top and sunroof design and noted builder of specialty vehicles and concept cars. There I was exposed to manufacturing techniques and experienced how a real design studio worked. Combined with my Vanderbilt degree, this gave me a critical advantage over my classmates as we entered our third year, when auto manufacturers begin to scout the latest wave of car designers.

In 1992 Chrysler was the hottest design studio in the industry. The automaker had introduced a series of fantastic concept cars beginning with the Dodge Viper, and the production lineup on the horizon was incredibly fresh. I was fortunate to be picked up by Chrysler as a summer intern. Because I already had a bachelor’s from Vanderbilt, I was offered a full-time position at the end of the internship. I accepted it and worked with CCS to complete my design degree at night.

I was now competing with some of the finest automotive designers in the world—and the competition was stiff. All designers want their designs to be chosen for production, but many spend entire careers designing little more than door handles or wheels. In late 1993, I worked on my first production car, the 1998 Dodge Intrepid. I also worked on the Dodge Intrepid ESX concept vehicle (car talk for prototype). The ESX was a diesel-electric hybrid developed but never produced in conjunction with the government-sponsored Partnership for a New Generation of Vehicles. It was engineered to deliver fuel economy of 80 miles per gallon. 

In 1997 I became lead designer for the 2002 Jeep Liberty. A year later, I received the Automotive Hall of Fame’s prestigious Young Leadership and Excellence Award. During this time I was promoted to manager, and later, chief of Chrysler’s Advanced Product Design Studio, the birthplace of all Chrysler’s future projects. Two notable initiatives to come out of our studio were the rear-wheel drive Chrysler 300C and the industry’s first minivan Sto-N-Go seating system. I loved working at Chrysler, but by 2003, I felt at odds with the company’s design direction. General Motors offered me a position as director of advanced design, so in January 2004, I joined GM.

The size of General Motors and its global product range were remarkable. I was immediately thrown into the deep end and tasked with designing the GM Sequel, a concept vehicle powered by fuel cells. Fuel-cell vehicles are essentially electric cars that use hydrogen to create electricity for propulsion. The project was a success and became the first vehicle to demonstrate a driving range of 300 miles with zero emissions. Our studio was also charged with bringing the Camaro back to life. As a car enthusiast, I consider developing the new Camaro one of the highlights of my career. (Fellow Vanderbilt graduate Mark Reuss, BE’86, also worked on the Camaro project.)

Proposed production version, Chevrolet Volt, 2011

Three years ago, I began design on what could very well be one of the most important vehicles in General Motors’ history, the Chevrolet Volt. Unveiled at the North American International Auto Show in January 2007, the Volt concept was the hit of the event. The Volt has a sports car stance and a groundbreaking electric powertrain, which allows drivers to travel up to 40 miles on a single electric charge. If driven beyond 40 miles, the Volt also has a small onboard gas engine that continually generates electricity and extends the range by several hundred miles. The Volt is to go on sale in late 2010.

Walking around the Vanderbilt campus recently gave me time to reflect upon the years since graduation. My Vanderbilt degree provided opportunities that I could not have imagined as an undergrad—it opened doors, made me stand out from the crowd, and gave me the tools to compete in design school and corporate America. I use it when I manage a team of designers and engineers, oversee budgets and integrate scientific principles in my designs. My background in psychology helps me understand why consumers love their cars—and how to incorporate that knowledge into designing cars they’ll love. I know now that my liberal arts education wasn’t about a GPA.

Now I even like Furman Hall.

My first year out of the College of Arts and Science was an exciting, amazing and scary time in my life. It was 2000–2001. My personal play-by-play: First, with the NASDAQ at 5,000 and headed to 10,000, I moved back home to the Bay Area with the hope of joining an Internet company and becoming a participant in the “Technology Revolution.” There I joined a 20-person online payment start-up that—we thought—was destined to revolutionize commerce (this company was not PayPal). I began dating my now husband, Bryan Kelly, BA’00. The NASDAQ dropped below 2,000, my start-up cratered, and I found myself jobless. I was advised to seek employment with a real company. (I took this to mean a company entirely unrelated to the Internet.) I shied away from the advice and joined another young Internet company, one named Google.

When I joined Google as employee no. 230 in early 2001, the online search engine had great technology and highly talented people, but a nascent business strategy. Google had just launched AdWords, its advertising program that pairs an advertiser’s online ad next to appropriate search results, with me as the second employee in AdWords’ Online Sales and Operations (OSO) division. Initially my job entailed supporting and growing the program and advertiser base. Success meant trying, failing, learning, iterating, failing again and trying again. Oscar Wilde said, “Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.” By that standard I was gaining experience rapidly, and I loved it. The lack of benchmarking and guideposts in Google’s new business was daunting, but I thrived in that environment. I found that I loved working with and leading others, and creating business strategies and practices. 

I was a fine arts major in the College of Arts and Science—not the first major most people think of when they think of Google—and it provided a great foundation for me. I have always been passionate about art, both creating my own work and appreciating the work of others. My liberal arts studies taught me how to think, analyze problems, brainstorm about solutions and articulate a perspective. They also taught me the importance of working hard to achieve good results. Finally, my experience as an art major rewarded and reinforced my instinct to pursue what I am passionate about.

The Vanderbilt campus, as seen from Google Earth™ mapping service. Image U.S. Geological Survey © 2008 Goggle

 Great professors such as Leonard Folgarait and Helmut Smith created a wonderful environment in which I learned to overlay attention to detail and an analytical approach to my natural creativity. Professor Folgarait brought a depth and vibrancy to his work and our conversations. Encouraging mental flexibility, he taught how art is usually the byproduct of several different influencing factors and often there is no right answer in determining the relative importance of these influences. 

Professor Smith demonstrated the importance of seeking out and being open to differing viewpoints and ideas. In one instance I recall he sought student critiques of his book, The Butcher’s Tale: Murder and Anti-Semitism in a German Town. I remember how impressed I was with his receptiveness to our critiques. Professor Smith also introduced me to Google in spring 1999 when, on the lawn outside the library, he walked our class through a handout detailing how to use Google for primary research.’

The past seven years at Google have been amazing for both the company and me personally. Google has become the worldwide leader in online advertising, and we now have 19,000 employees, with more than 3,000 in the Online Sales and Operations division alone. I have been fortunate to grow with Google, each year taking on more responsibility and enjoying my job more with every new challenge. 

I am currently a director of OSO, heading Google’s online sales and operations for the Asia, Pacific and Latin America regions. I find immense gratification working with others to build what I believe is a truly great organization of innovative people, from whom I learn every day. 

Four key things keep me motivated. First, I’m passionate about Google’s mission—to organize the world’s information—and this makes me eager to help out any way possible. Second, I have had, and I continue to have, wonderful mentors and colleagues, from whom I have learned so much and with whom it is a joy to work. Third, I really believe that our AdWords product is a great solution for our advertiser customers. Finally, I realized from my first start-up experience that having lots of customers is a very good sign.

I travel internationally a lot, which has provided an amazing opportunity not merely to read about but actually to participate in globalization. The jet lag is tough, but the experience of working with smart, hard-working, creative people from different cultures and countries, all dedicated to a common goal, is a wonderful opportunity. Without a doubt, being at the right place at the right time has been a huge factor in my career thus far. As they say, “Timing has a lot to do with the success of a rain dance.” Along with the luck has come a lot of hard work and determination. Just as I learned to work hard as a Vanderbilt student, I have worked hard, in particular, to become a domain expert in online advertising, a very exciting space in today’s business world. I have also learned much from my colleagues about being an effective leader, and I work very hard at that, trying to help bring out the very best that our talented, creative team has to offer. My time at Vanderbilt was critical to the success I’ve been fortunate to achieve up to this point.

As daunting as our world’s challenges are today, I am optimistic about the future because I truly believe that the more people from different backgrounds around the world work together, and the more inter-connected our economies become, the more we will find common solutions for the benefit of all.

It’s been a long time since that day on the lawn in Professor Smith’s class. I never imagined I would be where I am today. Since then I have traveled around the world, worked with extraordinary colleagues, interviewed thousands of people, and learned to relish forging my own path. My ability to do these things was buttressed by the foundation that the College of Arts and Science and amazing professors and classmates helped me build. For that, and the opportunities that I have experienced since then, I’m feeling very lucky.

It’s 8:30 on an October morning on the trading floor in New York City. Fifteen people share a conference call to decide whether to announce a $1 billion bond deal for Brazil’s largest oil and gas company, Petrobras. The markets have been turbulent since July, but as I look at my computer screens, I see Asian and European stocks are “flashing green” (meaning stocks are up) and U.S. Treasuries are stable. I advise my Brazilian client to go forward with the launch…and fast. Three hours later, we have almost $3 billion in orders from investors—a major success! It’s exhilarating…I never imagined in college that I would work on Wall Street—in New York City—for almost 20 years!

With a major in history and a minor in English from Vanderbilt, I did not necessarily have the background one would expect for a career in finance. I was born in Brazil and lived there until the age of five, when my father got an offer to teach at the University of Texas and later at Vanderbilt. I grew up most of my life in Nashville. As my father was a professor of Portuguese and comparative literature at the university, it was a foregone conclusion that I would go to Vanderbilt (although there weren’t many Vandy-bound students from my public high school, Hillwood, at that time). 

I had always enjoyed history, and the quality of the professors in the department made it an easy choice for a major. The overall liberal arts discipline allowed me to take a variety of courses and explore options. During my four years at Vanderbilt, I studied history, English, philosophy, languages and economics. I learned from enthusiastic professors and developed the ability to reason and analyze. One of the best things I did at Vanderbilt to prepare for a financial career was to take several accounting and economics classes. I developed an interest in the building blocks of finance and gained confidence that I could succeed in a quantitative environment. 

Upon graduation, I took at job in undergraduate admissions at Vanderbilt, which was one of the best times of my life. I traveled the country extolling the virtues of a liberal arts education, meeting new people and making hundreds of presentations. I became skilled at speaking to large audiences, thinking quickly, and dealing with a variety of people. I then got an MBA at Duke University, and in 1988, received an offer to work with Citibank in New York, a dream job for someone who had always wanted to work in an international environment.

Although my three siblings and I grew up in Nashville as a fairly American family, having a Brazilian mother and Portuguese father always made me feel different. Our summer vacations were often spent visiting family in Brazil, Portugal or Germany, or hosting assorted relatives and friends from these far-off places. What I did not appreciate at the time was the benefit of speaking another language. By the time I got to college, I’d forgotten most of my Portuguese. At Vanderbilt, I took Portuguese classes to improve my language skills, which have come in very handy during the last 12 years working with Brazil and other Latin American countries.

During my first few years with the bank, Citibank afforded me the opportunity to live and work in the great financial cities in the world—New York, London and Hong Kong. After my father passed away, however, I wanted to be closer to home. In 1994, I returned from Hong Kong to work on the Brazil capital markets desk in New York. This experience opened a whole new world to me. 

Three years later, I was hired by Lehman Brothers to help run their Brazil bond efforts in New York before moving to Deutsche Bank for a similar role in 1999. I returned to Citi in 2003.

Traveling overnight to Brazil about 20–25 times a year is thrilling and exhausting, but it rarely gets old. The flight attendants on American Airlines certainly know me by name. 

I visit clients such as the Brazilian National Treasury in Brasilia, and large and small companies and banks throughout Brazil. My job is to help my clients raise funding in the international debt markets, some of them for the first time. It is very rewarding seeing the CEO and chief financial officer of a company raise money overseas so their company can grow and create jobs in Brazil. I have visited my clients’ steel plants, breweries and petrochemical facilities; seen their vast green oceans of sugar cane and soybean fields; and surveyed their eucalyptus tree plantations in neatly formed rows extending for miles. 

I have accompanied my clients to Asia, Europe, the Middle East and the U.S. to tell their stories to once-skeptical investors who now flock to invest in Brazilian companies. I can be in Geneva for a breakfast meeting, London for a lunch, and back in Manhattan with my wife Sheri and two daughters, Isabel and Caroline, by the end of the day. I speak English to investors, then turn around and clarify a point in Portuguese to my Brazilian clients, putting them at ease that their story is being told correctly. 

As an undergraduate at Vanderbilt, I didn’t know what my future held, but already the seeds had been sown for an international business career. My liberal arts curriculum taught me to research, to write clearly, to question and to problem solve—all skills I utilize every day on Wall Street. Outside the classroom, I was exposed to vibrant, intelligent students, each with an equal desire to succeed personally and professionally. The overall Vanderbilt experience prepared me, ultimately, to set off on a journey to fulfill a life-long ambition of helping Brazil, long known as “the country of the future.”