Alone

In the past few years, I've read stories from many other women in the sciences, little bits and pieces of their experiences that I've learned from, taken heart from.  Part of the reason I wanted to starting writing is that I wanted to share my story, so that I might help some other woman of science in the same way I've been helped.

I also want to be honest.  And I feel like I wouldn't be telling my story honestly if I didn't write about the bad experiences with the good.  And right now, I'm finding it hard to be my normal cheery self.

I don't want to be an angry feminist. I don't want to be mopey and depressing. I would much rather be a hoorah cheerleader for LOVING my science. But dang it, this week... I'm tired.


I'm tired of being the only female in my office.

I am tired of not fitting in because I'm not a tomboy and I don't mountain bike or climb or ski.

I'm tired of being unable to participate in conversations about cars.

I'm tired of only being able to drink one beer if I want the slightest chance of being able to function after.

I'm tired of the whole office clearing out for lunch, and no one thinking to so much as pop their head in my office to let me know, before I raise my head from my work to suddenly notice how quiet the office is, and how empty the lunch room is.  

I am tired of dealing with a capricious boss who will sing my praises as a genius one day and effectively call me an idiot to my face the next.

I am tired of seeing every person who comes in for a job interview be male.

I am tired of torturing myself wondering if this new (male) geophysicist they hired, who has a bachelor's degree to my master's, is making more money than me and will eventually replace me before I had planned to leave.

I'm tired of being the one who doesn't quite fit, and of the treacherous fantasy that whispers that if I just changed the way I dress, researched cars, learned to mountain bike, then, then I'd have my in.

I'm tired of the nagging fear, thinking on how many female geophysicists I know who are my age (maybe two?), that this environment I encounter now will be the only environment I will ever know in my career.

I know in many ways I've got it crazy easy.  No one is sexually harassing me, no one is questioning my right to be there, and I do happen to like the work I'm doing – a lot.  But all these constant reminders of how I don't fit and how precarious my position is in this world.... that drags on a person.

Thankfully, there's a light at the end of this tunnel.  I'm getting out.  I know for sure now I'm starting my PhD in the fall.  I know there's at least one other female in my research group, and from what accounts I've heard thus far my future adviser is one of the nicest in the department.  I can have some hope that my life past the PhD would be different than my situation now, as I'm currently in the strange situation of a geophysicist working in what is effectively an engineering company.  In reality, I have yet to experience what working at a true geophysics company would be like, so I'm holding out the hope that working with geophysicists might be better than working with engineers (or at least these engineers).  I have to hope in the power of statistics – that my sample size of one is not statistically representative!

I find that my awareness of my situation as a female in a STEM field is something of a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, I am that much more aware of the negatives I face.  The gender disparity in my workplace and all it creates is all the more vivid for my awareness.  On the other hand – I can see around the negatives, I can know it's not just me.  This situation doesn't have to be "just the way it is".  Maybe I can't make it better, for myself, right now, but I can hope that in some small way I can make it better for the next female engineer or geophysicist or technician who walks through the doors.  I'm here.  I'm not going away.  I'm damn good at what I do.

And yes, I am wearing pink.