Summary

A mature woman with an engineering degree grapples with the internal conflict of not being able to re-enter the STEM field after leaving her job to raise her family, questioning societal norms and her own choices.

Abstract

The author reflects on the challenges of returning to a STEM career after a significant absence due to family commitments. Despite possessing an engineering degree and a desire to contribute to the field, she faces both internal doubts and external barriers. These include the inflexibility of STEM workplaces, the devaluation of her professional skills after a long hiatus, and the societal expectation to maintain a continuous presence in the workforce to be considered employable. The article delves into the emotional turmoil of accepting the consequences of her decision to leave her career while also questioning whether the onus should solely be on her, given the systemic issues that contribute to the difficulty of re-entering the STEM workforce as a mature woman.

Opinions

The author feels that the STEM field lacks flexibility for women who balance motherhood with their careers.
There is a perception that women who have taken a career break are not taken seriously and are often relegated to lower-paid, non-degree requiring positions upon re-entry.
The author suggests that there is a stigma attached to the term "stay at home mom," which is seen as trivial when mentioned in a professional STEM context.
The author challenges the notion that a significant gap in a STEM professional's work history should automatically disqualify them from consideration for esteemed positions.
The author questions whether it is reasonable to expect women to maintain a presence in the workforce, especially when part-time or flexible professional roles are scarce.
The author is conflicted between accepting her current situation as a result of her own choices and advocating for a path back into a meaningful STEM career.
The author ponders whether she should continue to pursue opportunities in her field or resign herself to the idea that her STEM career is a thing of the past.

Is it Right to Complain about Career Loss when You’re the One Who Left?

Some of the voices (inside my head) say I don’t deserve a job in STEM. But others say that I do.

So, I have been thinking about using this platform to talk some about my growing indignity at not being able to find a job in STEM as a mature woman who is the proud owner of an engineering degree.

But, the thing is, every time I try to figure out just what little piece of this issue I might want to write about next, one thing keeps holding me back. One thing continues to derail me from expressing my opinions and sharing my views and life experiences.

It’s that little nagging voice in my head that no amount of meditation can seem to quiet (no, I don’t actually meditate, but I did just read a great article about the benefits!).

Sometimes this voice actually shouts that I have no right whatsoever to hem and haw about how unfair the “world of work” is for people like me. Those women (and men) who once-upon-a-time left their promising jobs in a STEM field to focus on their families.

I mean, what right do I have to fuss about my predicament when it was me who chose to give it all up? I am the one who stepped away, the one who gave my notice, all those years ago (admittedly even after receiving a paid maternity leave) to stay home full-time with my newborn child.

Whatever predicament I currently find myself in — this voice tells me — it’s my own doing. I have no right to cast blame elsewhere.

Or do I? This thought nags at me just as much.

The thing is, that first voice, it is not my friend. Maybe it thinks it is, but it’s not. This voice just wants to quiet me from dragging out these painful expressions even one more day. Like an overprotective mother, it wants to guide me to accept the lot in life I have been given, and make the best of things.

Acceptance is alway the first step, right? Just as one heals after any loss, in order to move on, you have to first accept the realities of what has happened. Am I right?

I just need to accept the fact that I left the STEM workplace over 20 years ago (yes I said 20), and because of that choice I made, I will never (ever) be able to re-enter into that world again. Period. Simple cause and effect. My choice. My consequence to deal with. Aim for closure.

But….

Might we also consider the following:

The world of STEM has not historically been a flexible one. Not all women who become mothers want to work to 50 or 60 hours a week that their “good” job may require.
Many women who leave fairly high-powered STEM jobs do actually try quite hard to dip at least one toe back into this world. What many find, however, is that they must demur and accept the very lowest-paid administrative jobs instead. Ones that do not even require a college degree.
A substantial gap in the work history of a scientist or engineer is a death knell. The words “stay at home mom” uttered during an interview for a highly esteemed position sound “cute,” as in “Aww, isn’t that cute, she still thinks she can be an engineer!”

There are a myriad of reasons that many women engineers and scientists choose to leave their professions — inflexible schedules, work culture, lack of respect, and lack of meaningful work — to list a few.

But, just because one left, does that mean that she cannot re-enter? What is the time limit on such things?

Should a mature lady hang her head in shame when daring to ask to be considered for a “real job” when she clearly chose to leave the world of the employed? (I hate to say “mature woman.” This is a loaded term, but why not mean it in a good way, as in “knowledgeable,” “responsible,” or “not flighty” or “capable of making good decisions”. Why does it have to, instead, mean “old” and “useless?”

We all know that it’s common wisdom that you have to keep “one foot in the workplace” to keep a career from dying, but what if that just wasn’t an option?

What if “no one” or rather “no company” ever offered such a relevant part-time job in the lady’s neck of the woods? Would it have helped for her to agree to empty wastebaskets or take phone messages for those who stayed at full time work (in professional and scientific pursuits) over the years?

Perhaps that last question was rhetorical. Of course it wouldn’t have helped. But maybe there was something else that could have been done? (Like sucked it up and worked 50 plus hours a week for all of those years while my kids were growing up, I guess).

So, in the spirit of the old, but cool song, “Should I stay or should I go?” my own brain asks a similar question — Should I continue to try to find a way to use my dusty STEM degree, or should I just find a rocking chair, and settle in to the comforting idea of “that was just something that I used to do!?”

Which one would you choose?