Truly successful by traditional standards, Nevada is a well-paid computer scientist and mid-level manager. A blazing contradiction of the stereotypical “computer nerd,” she is a highly skilled professional with superb communication skills and professional presence. She is charming, poised, well dressed, and respectful. Typically, she is also the only Spanish-English bilingual and multicultural employee, and for the past 14 years has been assigned to sensitive international contracts. One would think that Nevada’s superiors would do almost anything to keep her. But, as she has come to expect, they don’t really try very hard. Companies such as these just can’t see that their future success is in the hands of people like Nevada.

The challenges Nevada faces are a little recognized facet of what computer scientists often refer to as the “Crisis in Computing” – that for decades, all people, but especially women, have been dropping like flies from computing education and careers.

As of 2007 an estimated 30.3% of the San Diego County population was Hispanic. By 2042, it is estimated that Hispanics will make up the majority of Californians as a whole. Yet in spite of these demographic trends, there are few Hispanic-Americans working as technical professionals in the hi-tech industry. In fact, there are virtually no Hispanic women studying university level engineering or computer science, even in San Diego. At one of the city’s large prestigious public universities, of the 290 undergraduate computer science students this year, only 46 are Hispanic and just 5 of those are women. Future trends are also not good: graduation rates for Hispanic women computer scientists are so small (in the low single digits) as to be statistically meaningless.

Given the integration of computers in virtually every aspect of our modern global economy and society, Nevada should be in high demand. Instead, it has taken years of stubborn determination and sacrifice for Nevada to be recognized and valued by mainstream education and the corporate world.

Born in Mexico to one Mexican parent and one US American parent, Nevada calls herself “an American born abroad,” though most would just classify her as Hispanic. She dropped out of high school in Mexico when her father lost his job. After obtaining US citizenship, she attended community college, obtained her GED and then transferred to one of San Diego’s premier research universities to study computer science. Being away from her home and large family for the first time was wrenching. “There wasn’t a program for transfer students. So at 21, I found myself in a dorm with 18-year olds who had never lived with a person of color. Some of them avoided me because they didn’t want to associate with an immigrant who had an accent…I cried that first night.”

Nevada found that people all around her had little faith in her abilities – even those she first might have turned to for support. “I quickly realized that many Hispanics in other programs ostracized us [engineers and computer scientists]. They viewed us as uppity and sell-outs…I know of two girls (one Hispanic and one Black) who dropped out of computer science because they wanted to have friends in their cultural community.” Even relations with some educators and staff were strained. “Some people assume that you don’t know how to write well because English isn’t your first language.”

But where cultural clashes were painful, family ties and cultural values came to the rescue. Nevada’s family supported her educational choices, bringing her groceries when a part time engineering job combined with school loans still didn’t cover her expenses. Finally, after two years of putting her nose “to the grindstone,” she found a social group among other international students.

At the same time, Nevada actively sought out mentors and found a program to help her prepare for corporate America. The program took its toll. “Sadly, out of the 12 people of Mexican origin who started the program with me, only 4 of us persevered until graduation.” Often feeling isolated and torn, nonetheless, persevering is a decision she has never regretted, even though today she has few cultural ties to the Hispanic community.

When Nevada graduated, her family expected her to stay in San Diego. Wanting to see the world, she instead accepted a travel intensive position with a global software company based in North Carolina - facing down tears, “heartbreak,” pleas, and one family member who threatened a hunger strike.

Even after overcoming this painful parting, more challenges lay ahead in her professional life. “Men will assume they are to lead the programs we are in, just because they are men. I have to be assertive, which isn’t always easy because I don’t enjoy confrontation, but over time I have learned that if I don’t speak out, I’ll get passed over for promotions,” she explains. Nevada adopted the American “whatever it takes” attitude which included, until recently, accepting frequent travel assignments lasting six weeks or more.

Excessive travel prevented serious romantic relationships, and Nevada now regrets that she spent most of her 20s and 30s on the road. To rub salt in the wound, she has to deal regularly with “men [who] think I must be a hot blooded Latin woman.” As a result, she says she never goes out for drinks with her male coworkers, especially while traveling.

When several close family members became terminally ill, she realized that she had left behind, perhaps forever, her non-professional hopes and dreams. Like many women approaching middle age, Nevada has begun reflecting on what she has accomplished and what she wants to do with the second half of her life. Being of mixed heritage and raised with multiple cultural influences only complicates the situation.

Nevada’s cultural upbringing tells her that family comes first. As there are no nearby relatives to care for her elderly great-aunt, Nevada, now back in San Diego, crosses the international border three times a week to provide comfort, physical care, and financial support. She loves being a computer scientist but she always just assumed she’d be married and have children by now – just as most of her male colleagues do. “As a single woman, I am expected to put in longer hours than my married colleagues. I use my great-aunt obligations to bring sanity to the equation.”

The emotional stress of juggling work with these obligations has deepened her introspection about whether to keep working at a career that she has fought so hard for. Now 39 and single, Nevada looks in the mirror every day as she puts on her business suits, checking for wrinkles while she puts on her makeup and wonders.

I ask Nevada to tell me how she would counsel young women, in particular underrepresented ethnic groups, about a professional career as a computer scientist.

“I only have two [women] acquaintances that are still doing direct technical work and both are single,” she says. “Our society expects too many hours from a technical person, more than 40 hours a week…that is incompatible with raising a family or caring for elders.”

Not very encouraging comments, but Nevada also says that professionally she has found her niche, and is proud of her accomplishments. Her success enables her to be financially independent and to meet an exciting diversity of people. She often credits her many professional mentors and personal friends for providing a sort of second family, for advising and supporting her over the years.

Clearly, Nevada is an unusual woman - she embodies an incredible drive to succeed, and resilience in the face of multiple obstacles - all while prioritizing obligations to family. But she has also sacrificed much: connections to the Hispanic community, a romantic partner and children (at least so far), and socializing with friends.

There is a critical need to look beyond dominant cultural viewpoints and more directly at the perspectives of our fastest growing demographic population: Hispanics and Hispanic-Americans. Rather than making assumptions, we should ask them how they view themselves. In hi-tech in particular, we should identify ways of acknowledging women and embracing them fully as respected professional peers. Together we must follow those side trails and descend scary canyons. We will sometimes get lost, endure bruised and bloodied knees, but we must have faith that our mutual journey will ultimately lead to marvelous discoveries.

Lisa's article is part of our focus on Technology & Innovation. - Ed.

About the Author
Lisa C. Kaczmarczyk is interested in the interactions between computers, people, and sustainability. She holds Masters degrees in information systems from Northeastern University and computer science from the University of Oregon, an interdisciplinary Doctorate from the University of Texas at Austin and a handful of post graduate courses in intercultural communications and systems science.

Lisa publishes a twice yearly column called “Percolations” about interdisciplinary issues in computing education in ACM SIGCSE Inroads, a magazine for computing educators. She has written for the Austin Texas Sierra Club, and has an extensive list of academic research publications. She is active in the international computer science education community.

Lisa lives in San Diego, where she is an avid traveler, hiker, amateur naturalist and photographer.