By Sataja Parulekar
In seventh grade I was geek material. A skinny Indian, brace-face with oversized glasses and a ridiculous fascination with computers, destined to be an engineer. Since then I’ve lost the thick glasses and learned how to dress like a normal teenager. The only problem is, I still love computers.
Many teenagers strive to convince their peers that they’re cool. On the contrary, I struggle to convince the tech geeks that I’m one of them. As a senior, I am forever bombarded with the probing question, .What major will you pick in college?. I told an admissions officer at a college informational evening that I planned on majoring in computer science, and proceeded to describe my thoughts on the future of HTML (responding to a point his colleague made in her presentation). He smugly responded, .Well, you don’t look like an engineer.. After concisely explaining my experiences with the growing popularity of newer web page programming languages, all he could do was comment on my appearance. I should have worn my glasses.
On September 9 I volunteered at the Anita Borg Memorial Celebration at Stanford University. When I arrived at the auditorium, women everywhere buzzed around booths of big-name companies such as Sun Microsystems, Google, and Hewlett Packard. .Free stuff!. was my initial reaction, but after raiding the complimentary pens and magnets, I realized what the conference was all about. Most of these women were engineers and supporters of an organization founded by Anita Borg called the Institute for Women in Technology. Women shared their battle against stereotypes and difficulties in rising to the top.
One woman stood out. At the beginning of the discussion she flopped her sandals off and sat cross-legged, folding her bright colored, flowing skirt under her. The skirt was lime green and her sleeveless blouse had just enough purple to complement her fiery red hair.
.Hello, I’m Justine Cassell, and I’m a professor at Northwestern University and a former associate professor at MIT,. she formally introduced herself and then chuckled. .I’m a big fan of throwing lavish dinner parties, and oh, I’m also an engineer.. She winked. Engineers wink?
As the panel discussion continued I realized that Ms. Cassell was not only an engineer, but a social connoisseur, a poet, and a social activist. Her diversity was inspiring. After a few more panel discussions I realized she was not alone in her rebellion. I wasn’t alone.
Much like the Carnegie Mellon admissions officer, my parents’ friends love to ask what I’ll study in college. My confident answer is still computer science. They usually look at me once more and smile in disbelief. One even asked if my parents had told me to be an engineer. After asking why, the reply followed: .Well, you don’t look like an engineer.. I guess I shouldn’t have worn my black stilettos that day. God forbid that an engineer look nice at a dinner party.
No one has ever taught me to be interested in computers. No one told me I had to love programming. The bottom line is that I do love it, but I also love shopping and hanging out with my friends. Just because I want to work in technology does not mean I have to be a hermit and come outside only when I finish editing a website or designing a new graphic. My computer is my friend, but I think I enjoy my human friends much more.
What many people don’t realize about engineers is that they have other interests. Technology is just one. Computer programming is one of the dozens of things I like to do. I’m a dancer, a singer, a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, a lame storyteller, a mall-lover, and a web-page nut. And I will wear the dorky glasses and scrubby clothes on my own time, not when I have to .look like an engineer..
Sateja Parulekar is a senior at Presentation High School in San Jose. Article appeared in the Presentation High School newspaper The Voice. Reprinted with permission by the Anita Borg Institute for Women and Technology.