I have always loved science. As a child, I looked at the stars and saw my future. I dreamed of finally being able to learn about real astronomy in school. I dreamed of being able to take physics. I figured everyone knows astronomy research these days is mostly physics, so as soon as I can start learning physics, I’ll be on my way to being a scientist. I thought I would be the best physics student my high school had ever seen and I would know for sure that physics was my future.
Instead, I failed a test for the first time in my life. I was heartbroken. I was too dumb for physics. I wouldn’t be a famous scientist. My dreams were over.
Physics was the first class to ever challenge me. I knew, in theory, what you were supposed to do. You ask the teacher for help. Except, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I couldn’t do physics on my own. I wanted to be perfect at it right away.
Time passed. I became used to physics. I got better. I moved back to being the top of the class, and I considered myself good at physics. However, I still struggled. I struggled to ask for help. I sat next to a boy who was very smart. I thought if I asked him for help he would think I was stupid. I thought it would mean I was stupid.
I did improve, to be fair. I had an amazing physics teacher who welcomed questions. She never made me feel stupid for asking. I could trust her. She made me feel like I would be successful. She encouraged me more than anyone else.
To be honest, physics boys scared me. I didn’t want to be seen as some stupid girl who didn’t know anything. Once, during a project, I disagreed with a boy who everyone saw as very smart. I felt like he wasn’t listening to me because he knew he was smarter than me. Maybe because I’m a girl. But maybe just because that’s how he was. I was right about our disagreement. I felt so frustrated that I had been ignored, that I didn’t push hard enough, that I had fallen silent.
I am not perfect at physics. And I am not some physics prodigy. I’m okay with that.
But I’m still scared of physics boys. I’m scared that because I’m not perfect, they’ll see me as some stupid girl. They’ll think I don’t know what I’m doing. They won’t respect me or anything I say.
I’m in college now. I’m studying astronomy and physics. It’s what I always wanted to do. So far, I don’t enjoy it.
I took honors physics courses both the fall and spring of my freshman year. They were interesting, we had plenty of opportunities to ask questions, and my professors seemed to want us to succeed. But my class was overrun by boys. The second semester there were only 5 girls in my class. I estimate 20 boys made up the rest of the class. The boys controlled the class. A kid in the front row was constantly slowing down progress by asking fringe questions. Another, sort of a friend, shushed me. Others didn’t really listen to me. I felt like they were constantly telling me I was wrong without even stopping to listen to what I was saying.
I felt way in over my head. Everyone knew about scientists and concepts and theories I had never even heard of. These boys exuded confidence, sometimes without anything to back it up. They spoke with big words just to make themselves feel better.
I stopped studying with larger groups of the class. I only had two friends who I felt I could ask questions about physics. One of them told me that he was going to work on a difficult problem with other members of the class, and asked if I wanted to come along. I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit in front of those boys and tell them I didn’t know anything. I wanted to be successful and make friends, but these boys felt like poison.
I don’t know if these boys thought I was dumb because I’m a girl, or just because of the way I am. I don’t know if they thought I was dumb at all. But I do know they think they’re smarter than me. Maybe they’re right. But maybe not.
Both of my professors were male. The first struggled to answer questions in a way the asker could ever understand. The other constantly spoke as if electricity and magnetism were obvious. I couldn’t ask questions in class. I couldn’t reveal that I didn’t know what was going on.
The only one who allowed me to be stupid was our TA. Even then, I could only reveal what I didn’t know at office hours, with no one else around. One time I cried to him after class. The math expected of us was out of line with the math requirements of the class. I was totally overwhelmed and felt like I would never be able to catch up. He eased my worries.
But at the exact same time, a kid from my class rambled behind me about how it wasn’t that hard and I shouldn’t be worried. I felt totally patronized. It’s not that I couldn’t do the math, it was that I didn’t know how. No one had ever taught me it before. Later, my friend confronted him about showing off in front of the class. This kid didn’t seem to understand what was wrong with his actions. He laughed it off. He didn’t care to take stock about how it made any other student in the class feel.
These boys didn’t think before they spoke, ever. Another student made a condescending comment about how not everyone in the class was on the same level mathematically. Shaikly (and with backup from my friends), I confronted him. I told him it sounded rude, to which he replied that he didn’t mean it that way. I told him that he should think before he speaks. I don’t know if that affected him at all.
Another boy in my class told me that the Astronomy and Physics degree was fake physics. He held an air of superiority because he was just a Physics major—no astronomy included. He also bragged because he was Pre-Med. I don’t know how someone decides that physics is the right major to get them to med school, but to each their own.
In general, I feel like I have to prove myself to these boys. I need evidence that I am not stupid and that I deserve to be taken seriously. Meanwhile, none of these boys have a single problem with each other. They are easy to accept each other’s expertise. They are allowed to make mistakes. I am not.
Even when I write, I constantly feel the need to prove myself. I fact check every little thing. I find only the most credible sources. I can’t have anyone thinking that some stupid girl is sitting behind her computer sprouting nonsense.
This isn’t, of course, to say that all physics boys are bad. My best friend constantly tells me I’m not stupid, and he helps me with all my questions. Another reassured me when I cried on an elevator about a less than ideal test grade. Another once complimented a difficult calculation I had done.
Unfortunately, they’re not enough. I always have to be on guard. I can never show weakness. What if this new boy isn’t one of the good ones? How can I know before it’s too late? The boys outnumber me. Who will be on my side?
I don’t enjoy physics like I used to. I still love astronomy. My wonderful (female) astronomy professor made me hopeful again. I might change my major to just Astronomy. I would have to take fewer physics classes, and I would have the opportunity to explore writing.
But what would these boys say? What would they think of me? I’m afraid they’ll think it’s a cop-out. That I couldn’t handle physics. That I’m stupid.
I know it doesn’t matter what they think. I’ll pick what’s best for me.
I’ll never be free from the fear they’ve instilled within me and how it affected my life. However, I don’t want them to be free to continue this behavior.
There is a constant debate about girls in STEM. Why don’t more girls choose STEM fields? This is why. They’re asked to prove themselves to their peers while their male counterparts sit by, out of the spotlight. It’s exhausting. And I can’t do it. It’s spoiled my relationship with science. STEM has lost me.
I still love astronomy. I still love looking at the stars. Maybe something will change, and I’ll go back to wanting to do research. For now, I’ll stay out of the spotlight. But I won’t stop looking at the stars.
madison brewer 