The #ilooklikeanengineer campaign prompted me to reflect on what it has meant for me to “look like an engineer” and how my concept of the relationship between my interests, the degree I hold and who I am has changed, and continues to change.
When I looked like a toddler, I would spend hours in my dad’s garage sorting a huge drum of random nuts and bolts he kept next to his work bench. Finding the ones that fitted together and those that didn’t. I enjoy working with my hands and I have always taken pleasure in ordering and sorting.
When I looked like a high school student, I was strong at maths and science. In my final years I wanted to join the airforce and study through the Australian Defence Force Academy. I was also the type of person to be involved in a wide variety of extra curricular activities and took great pleasure in helping others succeed. I did not at the time recognise the strength of this as a leadership quality. It was unheard of for girls at my school to join the defence force, the type of engineer that I hoped to be did not conform to the engineer that my peers imagined.
When I looked like a university student I was one of five girls in a year level of 120 students. I found myself in an environment where I did not physically look like my peers. So I dressed like them, I spoke like them and I tried to take an interest in the cars and computer games which my peers enjoyed. We mirror what is around us to minimise the threat we feel when we do not fit in, these were a group of future engineers, but again I did not look, or feel, like them.
To me, the #ilooklikeanengineer campaign has diversity at its heart, and the unique value that we all have to contribute regardless of our physical appearance, demographic, interests, or qualifications. According to the Grattan institute, female workforce participation, only one element of diversity, has the potential to contribute an additional $25 billion to the Australian economy. Imagine what opportunity exists across the range of demographic features.
When I looked like a graduate engineer I again pulled my hair back and invested in dark coloured pants. It took me 6 years to be comfortable wearing a skirt in the manufacturing environment. Admittedly, an outfit of skirts, high vis, and safety boots is quite a statement. It was only when I left this environment that I began to appreciate just how the male dominated culture around me had influenced my dress, speech and leadership style. Particularly, I had continually told myself that I had not achieved success, because the qualities I was using as my benchmark - the qualities around me - were so far from my own.
While I now look like an engineer who has left the engineering sector, I do not consider that I have left. I am now privileged to work at Engineers Without Borders Australia, where engineers are directly involved in the type of work that the engineering profession evolved from; providing basic services in health, sanitation, clean water, energy and shelter to those who need it most. Everyday I use the logic, systems thinking, and change management skills that will define my career. These are the skills embedded in me by my engineering training - these are the skills that have enabled me to thrive in dynamic uncertain environments.
I believe, we are too often introduced by the degree we achieved and subsequently defined by the stereotypes of the profession. A career as an engineer can embody so many different skills, qualities and outcomes - engineers should not look the same. Like many other professions, engineers are a diverse range of people of many races, both sexes, and many different backgrounds. We all look different.
I am Jane Hadjion. I live in Melbourne Australia. I care about reducing my communities’ impact on the environment. I value openness, thoughtfulness, people who are willing to have a go, I love wearing colour and high heels.
And regardless of where I am working, or what I am wearing, #ilooklikeanengineer.
