I WAS AN ARTIST, A POET, A MATHEMATICIAN—AND A GIRL. What made me think I should go to engineering school? Back in the late 1970s, engineering was considered an ironclad, old boys' network.
For starters, my mother, an artist herself, had already discouraged the creative route, since from her experience I would have few opportunities as a woman. (I didn't know then what I know now about defying limitations, or I might have challenged that one.) So, encouraged along the math path by both my parents and teachers as a talent that could be used to earn a living, I applied to a prestigious engineering school—and got in. My high test scores prevented the school from outright refusing me, so they invited me for an interview, where they told "the girl" that she would in no way fit into the program. Even though I left in tears, the encounter galvanized me, and I enrolled at the college.
Well, they were right. Engineering school had huge obstacles. Not only did I find myself in a totally male environment, but most students weren't American, so along with the prejudices in my own culture, I faced the global ones, as well. Try being a "girl" assigned to do a group project with guys from cultures where it was unacceptable for a man to even look a woman in the eye!
But one good thing came during this time. I discovered Christian Science. Working with the physics department on a large proton-decay experiment, I began to actually doubt matter's existence. As I delved deeper and deeper into quantum physics, looking scientifically into matter, I literally found nothing concrete or substantial there. Closer scrutiny repeatedly yielded the same conclusion. Now, up until that time I had held vehement doubts about God's existence based on simple logic. I didn't believe both matter and God could exist, because they were inconsistent. Since each was the antithesis of the other, I reasoned that they couldn't coexist, because one denied the other. I had always accepted matter as real, since it seemed obviously the substantial one of the two. But now, matter was being proved to me as the insubstantial one, and I resolved to find a satisfying answer to reality. Obtaining my first copy of Science and Health at a lecture on campus, I was taken by the book's beautiful mixture of poetry and logic. Once I picked it up, I've never put it down. I had found the scientific, metaphysical answer to my query.
In the book, Mary Baker Eddy wrote about a right motive having its reward (see P. 453). I began to see that my motive to work and thrive in a field previously reserved for men must have been the right one, since everything suddenly began to open up. I went from being resented in school as a woman to being sought after, and sometimes preferred, in the job market because I was a woman. Employers were just beginning to fill gender quotas, though, so this was not the individual progress I was looking for. I still yearned to be accepted and valued on my own merit.
I decided to take a job on a public works project in New York City and was given 40 public buildings—and $40 million—to make whatever renovations I saw as priorities. Immediately there were "male/female" factions—except I was the only female! My bosses, who were government appointees or elected to their positions, had only a political agenda—to placate their constituents with promises of money allocated to move forward. These bosses delegated the whole process to me without practical support or honest expectations of the work actually being accomplished. The hands-on crew I was in charge of—the low-bidders and their laborers—resisted my enthusiasm and commitment to follow through on a job well done, since they were in the habit of getting paid for doing as little work as possible.
The typical male model I was confronted with on regular basis was the one where whoever had the biggest ego and was best at throwing their weight around won the day. I was supposed to be calling, the shots, but I knew that going head-to-head with my male colleagues wasn't the answers. And from my growing study of Christian Science, I knew my clout had to come from a higher source, which meant seeing the whole situation in a radically different way. Still, I had nightmares of big construction thugs backing me off of unfinished skyscrapers and waking in free fall.
I read in the first chapter of the Bible that "God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them" (Gen. 1:27). And Mrs. Eddy stated in Science and Health, "Union of the masculine and feminine qualities constitutes completeness" (P. 57). If this was true, I could know that God created my bosses, the laborers, and me, all of us with both masculine and feminine qualities. God certainly expresses the whole range of His qualities and attributes, and therefore so do all of us as His children, made in His image.
I saw that we all possessed the masculine qualities of strength and courage, while each one of us equally expressed the qualities of tenderness usually attributed to women. As I distilled individuals down to their essential qualities (the way we used to do with particles in physics), I realized the inherent similarities that were present in each person. A woman's complete list of God-derived qualities looked very much like a man's. Also identical were the lists for boss and employee. My increased understanding of this divine equality went a long way in eliminating the concept of competition, comparing myself to others, or looking for my worth in the opinion of others.
Transforming outward appearances into qualities derived from God was tremendously freeing, because I now understood that we all manifest God's complete set of attributes, not by any virtue of our own, but because God is imaging forth these qualities in every individual. I started on a treasure hunt to acknowledge every shred of this truth wherever I saw it.
I came onto the site each day determined to see His image and likeness at work—instead of a belligerent crew. I was able to recognize and nurture the same qualities in both laborer and client that I was endeavoring to recognize in myself. All of us were equally capable, patient, fair, and strong. The ideas I was learning about in Christian Science were helping me cultivate an environment of genuine loving care—which was being returned to me in many practical ways. The laborers began to anticipate my requests on how to improve their work and started to enjoy "wowing" me by going beyond the call of duty. And one contractor even designed a special harness for me so I could go safely out onto scaffolding while I was pregnant—much to the fascination of gawking pedestrians on the street below.
The added benefit of identifying with this divine equality was discovering that we all have vast resources and attributes that are gifts from God—resources beyond any human imagining—which we can tap into at any moment. As we access a greater range of these gifts, we not only perceive them in ourselves, but we amplify them in others. As a result of doing this, contractors competed vigorously to get the jobs I was involved with, because they saw that their employees were working beyond what they thought was their maximum capacity. This in turn made for satisfied clients, since their projects came in on time and under budget, which is rare in the construction industry.
As I moved from job to job, eventually running my own firm, I found Christian Science consistently helpful in my work propping up skyscrapers in New York City. When people are looking for excellence, it doesn't matter to them what gender this quality stems from. Ironically, it was the qualities that we traditionally label as feminine that overwhelmingly contributed the most to my success. I thrived in my job because I worked to bring all of God's attributes to bear—not only the typically male ones—in a "man's world."
I had come to see engineering as what I called my playground for Christian Science. There were always opportunities for solving problems, very few of which had anything remotely to do with engineering, and everything to do with Christian Science. I started specializing in historic buildings that were legally designated as landmarks, and found that the stubborn red tape accompanying that work dissolved quickly through prayer. Boards hired me as an engineer only to warring parties in their co-ops. I become a "leak sleuth" (an activity that relates to corroded steel) following divine Mind's unerring leading. Even when physically we couldn't see the solution, I knew that the answer was there since divine Mind included it. And each time the solution was revealed. Also, in a city notorious for corruption in the construction business, my spiritual study supported my stand for integrity that went way beyond gender lines.
Eventually, the study of Christian Science simply overtook the engineering, and I went on to take up the public healing practice of Christian Science. I haven't looked back. Witnessing God's power to renovate lives is far more rewarding than my earlier career renovating steel. If engineering began as a quest for practically applied theory, I've found Christian Science to be the epitome of theory, practically applied. And it's a joyous, poetic art, as well.
But most importantly, I've come to know myself, not as woman, or a professional, but as God's beloved idea, beyond stereotype or limitation, complete with all of God's qualities of compassion, strength, and humility. I found that I was worthy simply because God made me that way.
