This article was taken from the February 2013 issue of Wired magazine. Be the first to read Wired's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by <span class="s1">subscribing online.
How can we get more women into tech? Mentorship programmes? Sensitivity training for venture capitalists? I propose a simpler solution. In the workplace, women should start calling themselves women, not girls.
It sounds silly, but hear me out. If all women refer to themselves as women in the sausage party that we call the tech world, we'll have at least double the number. This may be a case of semantics, but words are powerful. How we speak reflects how we see the world, and in turn, how others see us. Word choice can have as much of an impact as choosing to wear a wool poncho instead of a suit to your board meeting. (Though, truth be told, I could never hold anything against someone wearing a poncho.)
Girls are young, girls are pretty, girls are bubbly, but most importantly girls aren't threatening. Research shows that women often sabotage themselves in the workplace by starting sentences with "I may not be an expert..."
This works like a disclaimer, stopping people from taking women as seriously as they should. Referring to yourself as a girl makes you approachable, but does it say you're here to do business? Does it say: "If you 'forget' to invite me to the strategy meeting again I'm going to invite myself, and don't even think about taking another one of my yoghurts from the fridge or it will be your last"? However you define "woman", I don't see why it needs to be sugar-coated. Women are women, just as they may be software engineers, mothers, product managers, fans of 50 Shades of Grey or Arduino buffs. We shouldn't have to call ourselves girls at work to be liked or to make a place for ourselves.
The tech world is awash with "girls in tech" events. These are important -- they create spaces for women to congregate, share knowledge and build a supportive community. However, I don't understand why they need to use the word "girl", when the events are clearly for women.
I'm not alone. US-based writer and web developer Gina Trapani tweeted: "Every time I get invited to an adult gathering with 'geek girls' in the title, I want to light myself on fire." While I don't think that self-immolation is the answer (it rarely is), there is clearly a need to question why so many groups choose to identify themselves as "girls" rather than women. In a political sense, using the word "girl" for a woman doesn't make sense if it's not confronting sexism or inverting power structures the way the riot grrrl movement did in the 90s.
Today "girl" feels a long way away from Bikini Kill, Sleater-Kinney or lovingly photocopied fanzines handed out at punk shows. The Spice Girls' appropriation of "girl power" was the zenith of commodification. It lifted young female emancipation from the world of the righteous, ass-kicking Buffy the Vampire Slayer and deposited it in a cupcake shop run by some Manic Pixie Dream Girl (a treacly cinematic trope created to serve the vapid emotional needs of the male hero - think Natalie Portman in Garden State). Although the debate surrounding calling yourself a woman was a hallmark of 70s feminism, it is relevant again. Using the word "girl" can be revolutionary. Yet in most contexts in today's tech workplace, it isn't.
I'm not talking here about any of the much-needed solutions to physically getting more women into tech. Thinking about the language and how it shapes our lives is by no means the whole answer, but it's something anyone working towards equality should consider. To quote a certain material woman: "Express yourself, don't repress yourself."
Caroline Drucker (@Bougie) lives in Berlin where she is an active member of the startup scene, working for companies such as SoundCloud and Etsy. She has spoken at numerous international events about women in technology and works closely with the Berlin Geekettes, a grassroots organisation dedicated to supporting women in the tech scene through mentorship, classes and events
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
