Finding My Voice

Recently, while transitioning between jobs, I’ve found myself reflecting deeply on my professional journey, especially on some early experiences back when I was still an engineering student.

I remember one class in particular where I was the only woman among about twenty students, most of us in our late teens or early twenties. This was in Colombia, a country that, at the time (and still today), is quite conservative politically and religiously, where traditional gender roles are still deeply rooted.

So, there I was, a young feminist woman stepping into a world designed largely by and for men. The only woman in a room full of Mechanical engineering students.

In that class, every time we had to present, the lecturer would sit and listen attentively to my male classmates near the front of the room. But whenever it was my turn to speak, he would quietly stand, walk to the back of the room, and shout:

“Manuela, I can’t hear you! SPEAK UP!”

It drove me crazy. I was convinced he didn’t like me, that he was being unfair or even discriminating against me. It didn’t make sense because at all, outside of that, he was always kind, encouraging, and supportive.

AI generated

One day, frustrated, I confronted him. I told him he was being rude and unfair. He laughed gently and said,

“Manuela, I’m preparing you for the real world.

In a male-dominated field, you’ll sometimes have to raise your voice to be heard.

I was just waiting to see how long it would take you to stand up for yourself.”

This was an eye-opener; I learned to appreciate the lesson behind his actions, and our relationship improved.

In another class, the lecturer had an insistence on challenging language norms. Spanish, as you may know, is a gendered language; we have ellas for “they (feminine)” and ellos for “they (masculine or mixed),” with the masculine form used as the default. My male lecturer never agreed with that. So, whenever I was in class, he would deliberately use the feminine form,  calling everyone ellas, “girls,” or some variation of it.

At the time, I thought it was hilarious, especially because my male classmates would get so upset and blame me (not the professor) for it. But looking back, it was another subtle way of making a point: representation matters, and sometimes, small gestures can shift perspectives.

I didn’t fully appreciate those lessons until much later when, in professional settings, I had to literally raise my voice to be heard or noticed how uncomfortable some people became when a woman confidently shared instructions or opinions.

My message today is simple:

If you’re a woman: look out for yourself, but remember you’re not alone. Seek out those leaders who will stand beside you, advocate for you, and cheer you on.

If you’re a man: call things out when you see them. Support the women in your network. Remember, they are someone’s colleague, partner, daughter, or friend, and your support matters. You'd want someone to stand up for your daughter, wife or niece, too.

We don’t need your help! We need your allyship.

Because together, we’re changing the world.