A Rebel’s Journey into Engineering
The most rebellious thing I did as a teenager was to choose a profession in engineering.
When it came time for college, I had two options: pursue a degree in chemical engineering at the University of Florida, following my then-boyfriend into what was the 16th best chemical engineering program in the country, or live at home and commute to the local university.
My family believed the second option as a “no-contest.” The local university gave me $1,000 in scholarship money, and living at home would avoid residential housing costs. So in defiance, I followed my then-boyfriend to the University of Florida.
For years, I heard from my family that “engineering will be too hard” and “what if you drop out?” and “what if you run out of money?” It was a bittersweet moment when, finally, at graduation, my family approved of my decision when I accepted a six-figure salary offer right out of college.

To understand why I faced this resistance, it is critical to explain that I was born and raised in Moldova, an Eastern European country. Two issues were at play: Gender norms in Moldova were conservative, with women often serving as the caretakers and discouraged from participation in the labor force, and there was no concept of “credit” or “good debt” — only cash. My family’s priorities for college were first to avoid going into any debt, and in support of that priority, to ensure that getting the degree was achievable. By choosing a degree that no one in my family had earned before, in a location where I would expend more money than was believed necessary, I was violating those priorities.
What my family did not know, however, is that higher-paying jobs are more likely to be found when graduating from higher-ranked universities. Expending a little more money for a top engineering program enabled me to be recruited by top companies. And while I could have done the same by transferring from a local college to a major university after a few years, I would have lost the support of people who believed in my capability to complete a STEM degree and likely would not have pursued engineering.
My experience reminds me of the importance of identifying and nurturing talent from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds. By volunteering with organizations like the Society of Women Engineers and FIRST Robotics, I look forward to continuing to provide perspectives to families who have not considered what their children’s futures could hold. And in sharing my stories, I hope to pave the way for future generations of girls and young women to reach their full potential. — AB

Following My Dad’s Lead
My dad, who died in 2011, wasn’t perfect, but he was the smartest man I have ever known. Growing up, he gave me lots of good advice. As is typical with fathers, much of it was unsolicited; as is usual with daughters, much was, at times, unwelcome. But almost all has served me well over the years. I wish I could tell him that now.
I was raised in the 1970s in a traditional middle-class enclave in Springfield, Massachusetts, about 90 minutes west of Boston. Molded by stretches of childhood poverty and a cold, hard upbringing, Dad was a “school of hard knocks” kind of guy and a strict head of household, typical of my generation. His word was law. As an adult, he worked hard to support our family of five and advance his career in finance, earning bachelor’s and master’s degrees at night under the GI Bill.
While we toed the line as kids, my dad supported me, my younger sister, and my brother in every way. He wholeheartedly threw himself into our art and science projects; coached us in basketball, softball, and baseball; and taught us how to paint, repair appliances, garden, and more. The values and standards that he held dear and true are indeed mine; the work ethic I pride myself on was his. I idolized him.
It is, therefore, no surprise that my dad influenced my decision to study engineering. Although not an engineer himself, he came from a family of engineers. He believed that engineering required and developed marketable skills in demand in any economy. An engineering degree showed the world that you could learn or do almost anything and reinforced our idea of intelligence as the family currency. Good grades were mandatory. Dinner table quizzes were competitive. My perception of engineering as a “smart” profession was formative — and a way to gain his approval. To my dad, it was the family business.
He had no qualms about pushing his two daughters into a nontraditional field like engineering in the late ’70s and early ’80s. With his pragmatic view of higher education as nothing more than preparation for the workforce — especially for women — he was firm about our choices of college majors. Engineering or accounting, he offered; with any other major, we were on our own financially. Both my sister and I earned degrees in engineering. She entered the field as an industrial engineer. With civil (structural) engineering degrees, I followed a somewhat circuitous path into engineering education.
It is well-known that a lack of women as role models, a lack of parental support and encouragement, limited cultural beliefs, and gender stereotypes — sometimes reinforced by parents — present barriers to girls’ pursuit of engineering.
In his way — with his singular motivation — my dad rejected stereotypes and norms on my behalf while supporting and encouraging my pursuit of engineering before it was common or acceptable.
As I work with young women and men of different backgrounds, cultures, and circumstances — aspiring engineers all — I am repeatedly reminded of how significant this was in my life then and in the years that followed.
The older I get, the more I realize my dad was the most important influence in my life. I thank him for so many things. I hope he’d be proud. — BMcG-C