How did I get into Engineering?

Because being an adult doctor is scary.

So for those of you guys who don’t know, this summer I’m working with Amon Millner (an Olin professor) in his lab the EASE Lab (Extending Access to STEM (Science Technology Engineering Math) Empowerment). A lot of what the lab does is related to STEM outreach for K-12, and in an effort to understand how to get young people into STEM I figured that it’s probably important for me to examine how I personally got to the place I am today.

For our preschool graduation they had each one of us stand up and tell our captive audience what we wanted to be when we grow up. I said pediatrician. I was a kid, of course I would want to be a kid doctor, being an adult doctor is too scary. Throughout my K-12 education it wasn’t really a question of whether or not I would take the honors class: I was going to take the honors class, I was going to test into the gifted program, I was going to test into a prestigious private school. I felt like if I wasn’t taking AP or honors then I was stupid. And though I could point to external pressures like my parents, after middle school I was the one enforcing this on myself. In terms of purely academics, it wasn’t difficult for me to switch from the doctor path to the engineer path, after all it was just a matter of declaring a different major when I got to college.

Anyway. I always really liked art, but I also always understood that I could not do art. Kinda like how some kids are discouraged from taking upper level math classes, I was discouraged from being an artist. That’s not to say that I wasn’t allowed to take art classes, or go to art camp, I just had to understand that art was a hobby, not a career. It’s easy to understand why my parents (or any other parent) would do this. Most artists are not in it for the bling. My parents were poor kids growing up, and they didn’t come this far to let their daughter sink into the dredges of poverty.

I actively kept a sketchbook in 6th and 7th grade, this is probably the only time I’ve ever actively kept a sketchbook. I would bring it to class and instead of listening to the teacher I would draw in my sketchbook. I was also fiercely protective of my sketchbook, I didn’t like people rifling through it lest they found some naked people, *gasp*. I stopped drawing as frequently in 8th grade when teachers would start calling me out on blatantly not paying attention to their sleep inducing lectures. The summer of my 8th and 9th grade year I went to this pre-college art program called NYSSSA. There I took college level classes in sculpture, figure drawing, printmaking, and mixed media. And for those two magical summers I was allowed to fantasize about going to art school.

In 8th grade we had this technology class. It’s all kinda fuzzy in my head, but I remember the wood working unit the best. I made a Bleach napkin holder,

The bleach on the left not the bleach on the right.

and a combination lock out of wood. I thought it was the coolest thing ever, and for me it wasn’t like technology, it was like art. When I started high school it became increasingly difficult to fit “recreational” classes into my schedule. It seemed like year after year I would have more and more AP and honor classes vying for a golden spot in my seven period day. One class I did wind up taking my sophomore year was Woodworking I. In that class I was finally allowed to use the big machines: the table saw, the jointer, the sander, and there was a certain pride that I held because I was able.

Sophomore year also happens to be year I moved to Kansas. I was a new kid who desperately needed extracurriculars (and friends). The only people I kinda knew were on the robotics team and I ended up joining the next year.

FIRST robotics PR stories usually go something like: “she joined the robotics team, got exposed to more STEM than she could ever dream of, became a core member of the leadership, and decided to pursue engineering.” For me it was more like my woodworking knowledge was useless, the cool kids were all operating alien technology (read: laser cutter and CNC router), and there were too many people with too little to do. All the time I spent watching instead of doing ultimately lit a fire in me. I was going to go to college for engineering, to do all the things that I never got to try.

When I got into Olin getting trained on all the machines was somewhat of an obsession I had.

Including all the shiny eevees.

I got trained on, in this order,  the band saw, sander, drill, mill, lathe, MIG welder, laser cutter, 2-axis CNC mill, 3D printer, TIG welder, and sheet metal benders & breakers. Having a row of checks next to my name on the “who’s trained” spreadsheet outside of the shop was so gratifying, it was the same feeling that I had in elementary school when I had a line of gold stars.

Machine shop aside, I was never quite certain what I wanted to do. By the end of our sophomore year when a lot of my classmates decided what they wanted to major in I was still in this searching phase, trying out different classes. I ended up declaring as General Engineering with a concentration in Design, but even now I don’t feel like I have a concrete story to tell when I’m explaining who I am and what I do. I guess the scariest part is what’ll happen a year from now when I graduate. Things that always worry me are things like, will I find a job? Will I feel challenged? Will I be inferior? Will I be happy? And what if I’m not?

I’ve kind of just followed this path that has been lain out for me but it worries me what will happen when I can no longer see the road.