If anyone’s rewriting the playbook for what it means to be a woman in media today, it’s Emily Austin.
A bold and multifaceted force in media, Emily is a sports broadcaster, founder and entrepreneur who operates at the intersection of sports, culture and business — and she’s doing it entirely on her own terms.
She launched her media career in college, turning a scrappy Instagram Live series into Daily Vibes with Emily Austin, a self-built platform that quickly drew the attention of major networks.
From interviewing world champions to covering boxing for DAZN, hosting NFL events, anchoring live for MTV and launching her own NBA podcast, The Hoop Chat with Emily Austin, she’s carved out a bold, unfiltered voice in a space that often sidelines women who don’t follow the script.
But Emily’s influence extends far beyond the mic. She became the youngest judge in Miss Universe history, built a gender-neutral Korean-inspired skincare brand called People’s Beauty and served as a media consultant for Israel’s mission to the United Nations. She’s also remained vocal about her Jewish identity, often using her platform to address antisemitism and advocate for Israel.
Emily represents a new wave of media leaders: self-made, culturally fluent and unapologetically ambitious. She’s not just building a platform — she’s redefining what access, influence and visibility can look like for women at the forefront of public life.
As the first voice in our Fluent in Shattering Glass Ceilings series, Emily shares the mindset shifts behind her rise and the values that have anchored her through every risk, pivot and breakthrough.
“Shattering glass ceilings isn’t about one dramatic swing. It’s about walking into rooms you weren’t expected in, carrying your faith and identity with pride, embracing the pressure and betting on yourself again and again until the cracks finally give way.”
Stop Waiting for a Seat — Build the Table
I was 18 when I decided I wanted to break into sports media. No one opened a door for me. I expected other women in the field might reach out a hand — that’s what we always preach, right? But instead, I often felt invisible. At one point, I almost quit.
Then legendary broadcaster Jim Gray told me he’d been rejected hundreds of times before the one “yes” that changed his life. That line snapped me back in.
I launched The Hoop Chat from my bedroom during the pandemic, booking NBA players myself until networks finally started calling. A few years later, at 22, I acquired People’s Beauty, seeing potential in a small skincare line and deciding to bet on myself again.
I learned early on you can’t wait for someone to hand you a seat at the table. You build your own table and make the invitation list.
Some of my proudest moments came with the highest stakes.
At 22, I stood backstage at Barclays Center, about to go live on DAZN to interview a world-champion boxer. My hands were shaking on the mic. I reminded myself: “If it feels this intense, it’s because you earned your way here — use it.”
That mindset carried me when I was invited to the Oval Office as a thank-you for my work during the election, and again when I interviewed President Trump solo at the FIFA Club World Cup. It was a surreal full-circle moment for the girl who once couldn’t get a press pass.
I’ve learned pressure isn’t something to fear. It’s a signal you’re standing where the work matters most.
This year I walked the Emmys red carpet as part of the media world I once looked at from the outside.
That milestone wasn’t about luck. It was the result of years spent building genuine relationships: athletes who trusted me with their stories, executives who remembered my follow-ups, publicists who knew I’d always show up prepared.
I’m naturally a people person. I remember names. I check in even when I don’t need anything. That’s been my greatest strength. In this industry, talent gets you noticed — but relationships get you in the room.
At 21, I became the youngest Miss Universe judge in history. Standing in an evening gown beside global icons reminded me that my background didn’t make me less qualified — it made me unique.
For a while, people told me to “pick a lane”: sports girl, beauty founder, outspoken Jewish woman in media. But the power came when I embraced all of it: the Long Island Jewish girl who can debate boxing stats, run a skincare brand and challenge double standards on live TV.
I don’t try to shove my identity down anyone’s throat, but I refuse to hide it. That’s why I wear my Star of David proudly. My faith keeps me grounded. My full story makes me real.
My first viral clip was shredded in the comments section. I almost deleted it.
After Oct. 7, I spoke out against antisemitism and for Israel, assuming that opposing terrorism would be the most nonpartisan stance imaginable. Instead, I saw friends and colleagues back away, invitations dry up and critics attack me for both my stance and for revealing I’d voted for Trump. I was even fired from a network job for refusing to stay silent.
That season forced me to decide whether I’d let others define my voice or keep going. I chose to keep going. Respecting others’ opinions doesn’t mean they’ll respect yours, but I refuse to let that silence me.
Breaking into sports broadcasting at 18 meant betting on myself before anyone else believed I belonged in that space. Later, buying People’s Beauty at 22 was another leap of faith, proof I was willing to put my own skin in the game.
The hardest test came after Oct. 7, when losing a job for standing by my values could have ended everything I’d built. Instead, I doubled down on myself again, trusting that if I stayed true to who I was, the right doors would open.
Betting on yourself isn’t just financial. It’s about refusing to let others decide your worth. Every leap forward in my career came from that choice.