By MissGradStudent
They told me, when I was young, that education is the great equalizer. I could overcome my circumstances with thought, dedication, and handwork. So I worked. I took AP and IB classes. I went to a great college. I took the right internships and landed the right jobs. I isolated myself from my community as a result of my increasing knowledge. Then I got into Harvard, the land of privilege. And I felt like I had made it, that my struggle was over, and a great relief washed over me. I was then offered an enviable position at a top firm, and I took it. Then I was made inferior.
My first assignment at my new position was a long research assignment. I enjoyed my work, read all that I could, and made a detailed report with creative arguments that I was proud of. It took me months of work and long hours. But in the end, no one ever read that assignment. I turned it in and spent weeks asking for feedback. Then without notice, my project was reassigned to my white male colleague. My work sat in my boss’s inbox, untouched, unread, disregarded.
I was given another assignment. It was reassigned to my white male colleague. Then another, same result. And another, same thing.
Every time I spoke up in meetings, my opinion was shot down. Someone would then make my same point in a slightly different way at a later time, and that stolen idea was lauded.
My contributions to other’s works were left out of the final project.
I spent days staring out the window of my office uninterrupted, disregarded. In a sea of white faces, I was one of the only brown ones, and I blended into the background.
I felt worthless and stupid. I felt as though maybe Harvard really did only accept me because of affirmative action, and I’m simply not as smart as I thought and was told. I started to feel like I didn’t belong there.
So I stopped speaking up during meetings. I stopped giving feedback and asking for work. And I just sat in my office sometimes crying, sometimes in a cloud-filled daze. And there was no one for me to speak with about this. I felt so alone. I feel so alone.
The loans I took out to pay for my Harvard education ensure that I never quit my job. I’m stuck stupid.
Then an opinion was released by a field expert yesterday, which in part relied on two of the arguments that I had made to my team, ones that they ignored and left out of our own argumentation. And I felt better for a moment because I’m not dumb. My intelligence was again validated, and I cheered.
But what does it matter when no one will hear my voice until a white man speaks? I’m nothing until he tells me different.
Invisible Womanhood 