It could be worse.
I was always more interested in the math and science fields, even from a young age, but I didn’t really start specializing in that direction until high school. I was very fortunate to attend a technology magnet school, so as you can probably guess, I took a lot of programming and computer science related courses along with the usual hard sciences. The way the schedules lined up, I was more often than not the only female in my tech courses. As expected, my peers would often challenge me and force comparisons, but what really stuck out to me was the difference in how my technology-focused teachers treated me. I had one teacher that I can honestly say impacted my entire career path in such a positive way, but unfortunately there was another teacher though that seemed to hold my gender against me. At one point I even offered my solution to a programming exercise for class discussion, and his response was, “typical of a woman to have sneaky code.” To this day, I still don’t know what “sneaky code” means.
The summer before my senior year of high school, I was recommended for an internship at a local company. Ultimately three of us were hired as interns for our senior year and subsequent summers in college. I was again the only girl of the group. While my opinions and recommendations were often ignored by my peers in the usual odd-woman-out dynamic, and I still dealt with the same challenges I experienced in my high school tech classes, not one of my mentors was making gendered comments about my work or favoring my male peers. This is what started the pattern within myself to think, “It could be worse. It has been worse.”
At the same time, I was majoring in Physics during my college semesters — also a very male-dominated field. Even though the professors in the department were outstanding and always wanted to foster a healthy environment, they weren’t always around, meaning they definitely didn’t see or hear everything that happened. While there, I frequently heard things from my male peers like, “Oh, well the good grades you get are because you’re a woman, and they want to encourage women in the field.” When senior year came around, and it was time to either find a job or apply to a graduate program, the comments changed to, “They’ll hire or accept you to meet a quota." It was never my ability to succeed on my own merit. That was secondary to my gender in every instance. I worked my butt off, but that didn’t matter. In the same token, I was also dealing with some class dynamics where the boys would brag and joke about the latest women they were seeing and compare themselves through it. It was stereotypically a “boys’ club” where I had to ignore those comments to be accepted. Again, I just kept thinking to myself, “It could be worse. Here, my professors are beyond encouraging, and I have opportunities because of it.”
As I started my professional career, the shift in respect was incredible. Suddenly my peers weren’t explaining away my position as meeting a quota! The relief I felt! Since then, I can honestly say I have never once had a fellow engineer outright judge my ability to complete my work based on my gender, but as time went on, I did start recognizing vaguely implicit sexist attitudes or reactions from my peers. Things like judging female tech presenters for their choice of outfit and anxious stumbling words, but at the same time listening to what similarly anxious male presenters were talking about instead of how they were saying it. It felt wrong. Beyond that, no one was speaking up even when they recognized explicitly sexist comments. On occasion, I heard things like I was “in charge of fun,” or my contribution to my job was being a woman. Even amidst all the positive comments I received, these still had long-lasting effects on my own imposter syndrome, and the lack of peers speaking up in the moment made me feel like it simply wasn't a battle worth fighting. I felt like I was on my own in this, so again, I was telling myself, “It could be worse. These comments aren't malicious. I'm supported where it matters.”
Now recently I made a decision that altered the professional circle I was working in, and I was pleasantly surprised by the change in my experiences because of it. I have one short story that sums up the shift perfectly. I received a call a few weeks back from the assistant to the CEO where I work explaining that someone had posted something in one of our Slack channels that could have been seen as potentially derogatory towards women. I was pretty confused in the moment because I hadn’t seen anything like that when I checked Slack that morning. It turns out the post was removed. The call was requested by the CEO, handled by his female assistant, and served a few purposes:
Give us a place to express concerns and reactions to the post if we had seen it before it was removed,
Give us a place to talk about any possible instances of concern if we had experienced them,
Reiterate that sexist views are not accepted and this is a safe place,
Ensure we knew how to contact the independent Human Resources representative and remind us that all conversations with them would be confidential.
I was FLOORED. I had NEVER experienced that level of respect and advocacy without having to speak up. Even better, the peers I shared this with recognized how positive the experience was. It was a pretty powerful moment for me. I wasn’t thinking, “It could be worse.” I was thinking, “This is what true respect feels like.”
My message for any woman navigating a male-dominated STEM field is to always advocate for yourself, and be open with your peers about the level of advocacy you need and expect. DO NOT settle or keep quiet just because it could be worse. As with anything, aim to be respected completely and honestly. It will be difficult and can at times seem unachievable, but never devalue yourself to meet others’ inability to grow. Demand others grow to accept you as yourself.