Don’t Give Up: A reflection on “Why Women Don’t Code” and my own personal experience.

When I was 19 years old, I took my first programming class. CSE 142 taught by Stuart Reges. This class sparked my love of computer science, problem-solving, and making things. As with other important decisions in my life, I had a sudden, indisputable gut feeling about exactly what I wanted and what I should do. Six weeks into the class, I planned on majoring in Computer Science. It just had that ‘right’ feeling.

Stuart was a good teacher. He invited me to the honors seminar for the course, discussing technology and society in a small group. His assignments built up over time and didn’t assume prior knowledge. He brought a cookie for every single student on the day of the final. I had him again for the next class, and years later he remembered me and agreed to be a reference for my application to the department’s Masters degree program. He helped me discover not only something I loved, but a means to achieving my goals and dreams for my life. I will always be grateful for that.

Last week, Stuart published an essay concluding that diversity programs for computer science had ‘tapped out’ all the women who could be brought into technology, and that we have already achieved peak women in computer science. He argues that women have access to all the same opportunities as men, and are simply choosing other professions due to biologically-driven differences in interests and responses to the economy. Summed up: “Women can code, but often they don’t want to.” This stance hit me strongly and very personally.

I am a woman who did not want to code. For all that I love about my education and my career, this was not the plan. For all the equal access to the opportunity to take CS, I was only sitting in that CSE 142 classroom because I was forced to. It was a prereq for an applied math program I was considering. I was there to get it out of the way.

I remember an aggressive desire to be anywhere else at first. I was certain I could do it, I simply didn’t want to. Up until that point in my life, I had only used computers to type essays and browse social media. I literally thought that computer science was watching green text scroll past on a black screen. I thought it was dudes with neckbeards who hung out in basements. I did not identify with nerd culture. On the first day of class, Stuart raffled off Star Trek action figures. It was meant to be fun, but it confirmed every preconception that I brought with me into that classroom. It’s lucky I was stuck, and soon discovered that computer science is actually just puzzles and creativity.

My story is not unique. I’m sharing it here mostly because it is so common. I’ve heard countless variants from my female peers who did not originally plan on becoming engineers, including younger women who had the same hesitations much more recently than I did. It’s impossible to say how many we missed out on, who could have had the same life-changing experience as me. Even in the course of discussing this reflection with my friends, I learned that one of them had been told they were only in an intro CS class because their boyfriend was taking it too. Crap like that is so unacceptable. My friend decided CS wasn’t worth the vibe and is now incredibly successful in a different field. It’s our loss.

I am a person who was on the threshold of not being in tech, and that’s terrifying because I have everything going for me. I’m smart, driven, and analytical. I had one of the best high school educations. I am from a multi-generational family of college graduates and scientists — my grandma even became a programmer when problems with her vocal cords forced her to leave her teaching career. I have an extremely supportive and empowering family, partner, and community of friends. I am set up to succeed. Yet even with every advantage, when I arrived on campus I had no exposure to what computer science as a discipline was like and couldn’t envision anything other than what I’d seen in media. If I only ended up in tech by chance, how can anyone claim universally that women are just choosing not to be here?

Many things happen before a person graduates with a computer science degree (or not). While graduation data is attractive to use if you work at a university, it is still only one piece of the larger, complex story. Stuart mentions about half of the female CS grads are “interest changers” like me, but only about 20% of the men are. That’s interesting and I wonder if he’s dug into why. Stuart also talks about different genders responding to economic incentives, and again this explanation seems too conveniently simplistic to me. When I was in college, I assumed I could figure out a way to support myself with any STEM degree and I was more motivated to do what I enjoyed. From a different angle, Beyonce released Independent Woman pt. 1 more than 15 years ago. Women like money too. Culture and humanity is complex, and I am highly suspicious of any explanation that wraps up the gender equity question with a cute, easily-digestible nugget.

Many things also happen after a person graduates with a computer science degree. I wish that 20% female computer science graduates meant 20% female principle engineers and CTOs. We hear about the horror stories, but more often people deal with subtle experiences that will never make news. My own uncomfortable moments have been the mild kind. I have attended literally hundreds of meetings as the only woman in the room. The vast majority of them are fine, but some have absolutely made me feel that lurking imposter feeling. At one conference, I wore a blouse and pencil skirt to look professional and a much older attendee I didn’t know came up and told me I looked like a model; he didn’t ask about my work. I’ve thought deeply about whether I would rather be successful or likeable in my career (I chose successful). I have personally known several software engineers I later learned had very creepy behavior toward women. I have felt anxiety about accepting promotions when I realized how much lower the ratio of women would be in that role. I’ve spent hours writing and editing and convincing myself to post this very essay, which is a level of openness and vulnerability I don’t usually share online.

But in almost a decade in computer science, there is no moment that made me question my career path. There is no moment that made me question if this is a place I actually belong. A huge factor in that conviction is the solidarity and support I know I have in the Women in CS community and larger Diversity and Inclusion in Technology movement. I went to my first Women in Tech event during my first quarter in computer science. Today I have lifetime friends I endlessly admire and respect that I met through these programs. Efforts to increase diversity and inclusion are not just about attracting people to tech. They are also about helping those same diverse people feel welcomed and valued so that they stay in tech, and it’s working for me. I like being in a diverse community and I’m not leaving anytime soon.

I hate hate hate when gender is used as a stand-in for all diversity. Diversity is broad and we do ourselves a disservice when we narrow the conversation to just gender. We end up in a weird place where people can say things like “maybe it’s just biology” or “they prefer not to be in tech” that sound like tempting explanations when we talk about gender, but become distinctly uncomfortable when you try to expand the argument back to the wider spectrum of humanity underrepresented in tech. Can you imagine a manifesto that says black people just aren’t as biologically suited for programming? Maybe the Nazis have that already, I haven’t checked.

There are some conversations about diversity in tech that I’m tired of wasting my time on.

Arguments about the target percentage for any minority group within tech are ultimately not that useful. It’s just a guessing game. What if women could be 45% of engineers but we give up at 30%? If we stop trying too soon it creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. This type of defeatist thinking is also very weird when we think about underrepresented populations other than women. Is anyone ok with saying there’s a fundamental reason Latinos will never be proportionally represented in tech? That attitude is awkward and not helpful. How does this type of thinking help each person build a more inclusive industry when they go about each day? It doesn’t.

Arguments about nature vs. nurture and inherent traits of gender are also ultimately not that useful. As I observe myself slowly becoming my parents, I’m more convinced of the role nurture can play. But maybe nature really is key and there are some qualities that I have simply because of my biology. Who cares? Either way, I’m a whole person and tech is lucky to have me. I actually attribute many of my career accomplishments to my “girlier” qualities like listening, organizing, teamwork, and thinking a lot before I phrase ideas. I value my soft skills as much as my technical ones. And I want my teammates to use all of their own best skills. Inclusivity means making room for all sets of strengths in our industry, and I’m less interested in a circling debate of where they came from.

So instead of those endless arguments, what is actionable? What actually is useful and constructive?

It can be easy to dismiss research that shows swapping Star Trek posters for nature posters creates a more inclusive environment as too trivial, as Stuart does. If we’re down to posters, haven’t we hit a wall in our diversity and inclusion efforts? Puns aside, the details matter. Things like posters matter. I felt those effects that first day of class. It’s the same feeling I imagine when I think about a recovering alcoholic going to a work event that forgot to have mocktails. It’s the same feeling I imagine when I think about a native person hearing the phrase “have a pow wow” thrown causally around a corporate discussion. Every single day that we show up, we have the option to create a welcoming and respectful environment. For women, men and genderqueer individuals alike.

My thoughts about diversity and inclusion sum up to this: don’t give up.

Stuart, maybe we’ve reached peak women in cs, maybe not. Either way, your class changed my life. Inclusivity, however, will never be done and I hope you choose to spend your efforts working to build it into every class for your future students, especially those threshold ones like me. Don’t give up on them. Don’t give up on me.