Women in STEM

Author: Andrea Duhon PhD, Marshall University

“You will be the first Latina in our college to be inducted to Phi Beta Kappa”, Dr. Hill exclaimed.

“Phi Beta who?” I thought.

You see, at that time, I did not know what that meant. I had only been in college for a few days, and I had gotten there by the grace of God. I had gone against my parents will and left Miami to go to school in North Carolina. I was convinced that leaving the state made me better. My perception of success was skewed, and I wanted nothing less than to be in different circumstances. You see, growing up I learned all too well how to disguise myself into what others’ perception of me was. In many ways I was ashamed of the person I saw in the mirror every day and I yearned to be like my white peers. Their world seemed flawless, without a worry in sight and always thinking big. I tried to think like them and did well pretending, yet my internal insecurities attacked me all too often.

In 2001, when I came to North Carolina to attend NC State University my world changed. Being alone, so far away from my family forced me to rely on others more than I was used to and let them know a side of me that I was afraid to share. For 18 years I had been able to hide my fears from “the public”. No one outside of the walls of my home knew the things that caused my insecurities. While I was unsure of the consequences of my decision, I was confident that despite the obstacles it brought, it would be the catalyst for a different outcome for my life.

“What are you?” was the most common question I was asked. As if I was from a different planet, I somehow stopped being a “who”. My ethnicity became the forefront of who I was and suddenly I found myself in a new world, representing an entire culture. I always knew I was Colombian, yet I never felt the pressure of being the spokesperson for all the Latino Culture. But at NC State and in my field, it was quickly apparent that I did not look like the rest of my peers in the major. I had chosen to be a Mathematician. Inspired by my attendance at the Duke Talent Identification Program (TIP) during my formative years, I wanted to learn about advance mathematics. I had been briefly introduced but never had the opportunity to dive in - I yearned to learn more. If you asked me when I was 9 years old what I wanted to be, my answer would have been the same then as it is today: A Mathematician. What I did not know then, which I know now, is that becoming one would be the most challenging journey I would face in my lifetime.

They say, "Choose something that you absolutely love so that you do not have to work a day in your life."

I say, "Love what you choose so deeply that you are willing to continuously work on it, sacrifice for it, simultaneously overcome disappointment and experience joy. Go into it with an expectation but maintain flexibility. Be willing to bend but never break and trust that your journey is always about the process and never about the result. There will always be a better result. There will never be a better process."

My relationship with Mathematics required that and much more. There were many days that I felt defeated. Days in which the lack of preparation from my childhood was evident and triggered me to want to give up. In days like that, where doubt overshadowed my skillset, the love I had nurtured over the years, the sacrificial love that needed persistence, reminded me that I could and would make it. I had to actively work on silencing the voices in my head that said I was not good enough. The ones that tend to creep in when you are weakest, like when you just cannot get the answer to the problem.

The more involved I became with mathematics, the harder the relationship became. The world did not see me as part of its definition. I was not the white male archetype of what mathematics stood for in their eyes. I often had to prove myself, even with a degree... even with multiple degrees. It often felt like I was on trial. I knew the material. I studied the material just like the next person. Yet in some ways I still felt less than. I had to rely on my faith and those who believed in me to silence those doubts and continue pushing forward.

What I realised over time is that my story is not unique. There are many brown and black women in STEM who often feel out of place and less than their peers. This is partially due to the system in which we live and partially due to our inability to break generational curses of false beliefs that limit our thinking. What I know now is that we have the power to change that for the next generation. One brown woman before me, held beliefs so transformative she refused to let me quit, held me to the highest expectations and supported me in spite of the circumstances, thereby changing my outcome. Her doubtless approach to my success led me to believe in myself. I had never made straight A’s prior to college and somehow, I managed to achieve it semester after semester and became the first Latina in the College of Physical and Mathematical Sciences to be inducted to Phi Beta Kappa, the highest of academic honor societies. She did not know me from the next when she met me, but she believed with every ounce of her being that I could be whatever I wanted to be - even a Mathematician. Today, as I encounter hundreds of college students each semester, I remind myself of the importance of believing, empowering, and supporting the next generation. The difference in their future is made one person at a time, one comment at a time, one belief at a time. For me that person was Dr. Hill, and as she has reminded me before: “to whom much is given, much is required”. Now, it is my turn to pay it forward.