Networks Full

One of the primary functions of Grace Hopper is to facilitate networking, but I was still surprised by the density of the connections. Two of my fellow Medians, Jean and Tess, seemed to know or have heard of everyone: “I took a couple of classes with her”; “A few of my friends tell me she’s super smart”; or “I did a hackathon with her a few months ago.” The same story was true at most booths I saw.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised by this; in the same way that other minority groups form tight bonds, so too have the women developed a close-knit community in an industry where 85 percent of technical jobs are filled by men.

Throughout the conference center, young women clustered together, renewing past acquaintances and discussing their work, their studies, and their futures. Their body language and demeanor made it clear, politely, that my presence was not required. A multitude of closed-off conversations, the antithesis and equivalent of an old boys’ network, impenetrable to one who does not belong.

I wasn’t dismissed, per se; just ignored — surplus to requirements.

Do women see clusters of men talking at overwhelmingly male-dominated conferences and feel the same way? Do they feel tangential or ornamental? No matter one’s self confidence, it’s disheartening to feel separate from the group, to be on the outside looking in. I can easily see how it would become damaging and demoralising when repeated, ad infinitum.

As a white man, the feeling is rare enough for it to register as more novel than hurtful, and I didn’t resent it one bit. Grace Hopper is explicitly not about people like me.