Honestly, the main reason was probably because I was tired: I'd just finished my first week as an intern, my first experience in a full time job. Although I had worked long hours in the library and had been conditioned by school to sit in one spot for several hours, there was something about the social energy I had to give in a brand new environment for eight hours that wore me out.
There was something else I couldn't shake though: many of these people were essentially queer as their job. I think Gaby Dunn and Cameron Esposito discussed on a podcast called Queery something along the lines of "professional gay people," which is a real concept describing the artist's responsibility to represent the queer community. And it's true: queer artists, writers, performers, journalists, and internet personalities all dedicate a portion of their lives to interpreting their identity. Having had a taste of what my life will be like after college graduation, I was a little jealous. It wasn't that I didn't want to do something technical, or even that I was upset about the lack of freedom. I was envious of the connection they had with the queer community that I was almost giving up by deciding to be an engineer.
Despite the fact that there are millions of queer people in different career paths, queer scientists and engineers are often underrepresented. This makes sense because engineers and scientists are not a cultural entity to society, but a functional one, and the celebration of a community often does not appreciate its functional aspects because they go unseen. However, because queer folks go underrepresented and often face oppression in STEM workplaces, it's easy to feel jealous of someone who, despite often having a less lucrative or socially acceptable career, has a more consistent connection with the community (not to say that it is by any means easier).
I think, for me personally, there are two parts of this solution. One is building a community around queers in STEM. This past semester, I was able to experience reviving my university's chapter of Out in STEM, and since we are a STEM heavy school, it was amazing to bring people together who fall under both of these labels.
Second, I think, is to keep a connection with art. To be honest, until college, I had always had an artistic outlet in some way: I have been writing since I could hold a pencil, I used to draw(until I realized how much better my friends were at it then I was), and I was in programs like musical theater and marching band. I didn't know I was queer until I was sixteen, but I was always socially anxious and an over-thinker and these outlets allowed me to let go. And, although I still write in my journal pretty regularly, it's a solitary hobby. When I was dabbling in my artistic outlets, I was posting online and performing, which forced me to interact with others and connect.
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| A digital painting I made when I was fourteen, before I knew that I was queer, during a time when people were changing their Facebook profile photos to the equality symbol. |
I think it's important for us, queer or not, to have some sort of artistic outlet. Even for the most technical minded, "right brained" people, there's a certain freedom found in making and sharing something, whether you perceive it as beautiful or not. It's something that makes us human and helps us grow and reach out as people.
