I’m a current junior majoring in Computer Science and I have seriously considered changing my major at least five times. I would feel that my love for the field wasn’t enough for me to stay. As a female-identifying student, the male-dominated field of Computer Science felt exclusive, isolating and draining. My relationship with science has almost always been shaped by society's notions of gender. Looking back at my academic journey, I find it absolutely ridiculous when I realize how much influence it has had on me and my gender-marginalized friends in STEM.

I first began to notice this when I opted to study Computer Science in high school. The number of girls who chose this field hit an all-time low at my school with a total of eight students from the girls wing, compared to over 60 students from the boys wing. Most of my relatives and teachers "advised" me to choose medicine, saying that it’s "more suited for girls" and that the field of technology would be a misfit since I was a woman. The reasoning was that the long hours required would force women to sacrifice their roles within the family if they prioritized their career. While these statements open another discussion about the absurd double standards set for different genders, these experiences strained my relationship with Computer Science. I found myself putting my work related to CS at a much higher standard compared to other subjects. Reflecting on this now, I think something in me believed that if I didn’t succeed, all the assumptions about women in tech would suddenly be true. There was an anger thriving in me to constantly prove these remarks wrong, which was very draining.

At NYU Abu Dhabi, this gap became all the more clear. My CS classes felt incredibly isolating, from having fewer female faculty members in technical disciplines than I could aspire to be to having fewer female-identifying students in my class. It was hard to feel welcome in a space where there were male-identifying students who would flex how they’ve been coding since the beginning of time. I caught myself avoiding doing stereotypically feminine things like wearing pink or dressing up for class. It made me feel less of a CS major because, unfortunately, when I picture a computer engineer, I do not see a woman. So, I pulled away from expressing myself. Moreover, a notion I held onto for some time was that I, as a woman, would inherently find it difficult to use hardware. I stayed away from anything related to physical computing for a long time, thinking I would be bad at it. Even now, I get incredibly nervous when it comes to handling hardware because of the overwhelming narrative that society has pushed in my head about women finding engineering less intuitive.

The gender gap extended beyond NYUAD as well. I was almost always the only girl in internship meetings and interestingly, I was the one chosen to take care of "fun" events for the group. I have had many male-identifying students argue with me over how "diversity jobs make them lose their valuable opportunities" and how "women are better at being creative and making things pretty." In all these arguments, they attribute women’s achievements to gender and in the process, erase their talent and work. It comes as no surprise that I have seriously considered changing majors to a non-STEM field.

It was weSTEM and my parents who pulled me through this tunnel of insanity and still continue to do so. weSTEM gave me the gift of community and support that made me feel safe to be my most authentic self and geek out about the tiny things in tech that excite me, without feeling like I was being judged. I have met multiple peers through it who have had very similar stories to mine. It is unfortunate how common these experiences are on a global scale — to feel like an outsider in a field you have loved and to constantly get bombarded with comments questioning your very existence in that space.

Even though spaces like weSTEM exist on campus, it is still important to address the struggle of being a woman in STEM. The work done at weSTEM is emotionally taxing and it is unfair to expect gender-marginalized communities in STEM to put in the labor to educate. Despite weSTEM’s efforts to create programming to spread awareness and celebrate gender-marginalized people in STEM, rarely do male-identifying students attend such events. Frustratingly, there have been multiple occasions where people have questioned me about the very existence of the struggle when events like these exist. I want to call out the convenience that my male-identifying peers enjoy in STEM — understand your privilege and show up for events, educate yourself, speak up if you see a friend discriminating against someone and use inclusive language. These are tiny steps you can take to foster a more inclusive and healthy community in STEM.

Often, when I go through something uncomfortable, I’ve caught myself saying it will all be worth it in the end, remembering the struggles other famous women scientists have gone through and the idea of the struggle being an integral part of my success story as a woman in STEM. Even in recent celebrations related to the International Day of Women and Girls in Science, posts and programming often glorify the struggle people have gone through. This inherently implies that without struggle, there’s no achievement and leads to a spotlight on the struggles, not on the resilience and talent of the individual. The fame of Sheryl Sandberg’s "Lean In: Women, Work and the Will to Lead" and its adherents reveals this mindset. Sandberg’s message to women is to face hostility in the workplace and move forward and this is an incredibly problematic idea. It not only places all the work to be done by the community that is marginalized, but also encourages women to continue struggling in the unhealthy environments of male-dominated fields for eventual success.

Celebrating gender-marginalized communities in STEM is necessary, but there is a need to make sure that we don’t forget the gravity of the struggles they’ve been through. And in remembering the struggles, we need to be careful to not feed into the idea that the struggle is inherent, because one can easily go down a rabbit hole of romanticizing painful experiences.

Ultimately, I’ve loved working in the field of Computer Science because of its constant play between logic and creativity. I love that I can build things from scratch and the only bounds to it is my imagination. But still, I’ve wanted to leave CS because of the dynamics of power and prejudice in the field. In honor of the International Day of Women and Girls in Science, I want to celebrate the unique community of scientists from gender-marginalized communities I know and love — through knowing them, I’ve learnt to embrace my several identities and my love for STEM.