In the minority

The vast majority of times, I am not in the minority. I am a white woman of Irish heritage, of Christian (complicated Christian but Christian nonetheless), with brown hairs, blue eyes, an average build and height. But for two years of middle school in among the toughest schools in town, I have always been clearly among my peers. Through undergraduate, where I slowly picked up the traits and styles of those around me (Queen's - where you to go act like a sheep at times. Baa). In my Masters, I worked with two girls who looked and acted so much like me we were commonly mistaken as sisters.

I have worked in several environments, with people of all types and backgrounds and never have I felt so out of place as in the past few months.... working with 50 year old men.

I have nothing against fifty year old men. I have several uncles of that era whom I adore. My dad is no longer quite in his fifties but he is still pretty awesome. I have had bosses before of that vintage who were great guys, and we got along great.

Why the issue now?

I am now in a sector which has been traditionally, a sector dominated by men. The guys I work with have on average (I think) put in at least 15-20 years into this topic. They are incredibly knowledgeable and engaged, motivated and have been incredibly welcoming to me. They're not really used to women being around, and that I am soon to be the equal (rank wise) to them, but they are trying and I give them props.

Yet, they are at times so out of touch I want to scream. They ask me to do tasks better fitting to an administrative assistant - which I am sorry, but I am not. Check my title, and the letters behind my name.

They are incapable of the simplest technological tasks, including dialing into a conference call, copying a piece of paper or not having to print out an Excel spreadsheet to look at it. I spent my morning on a conference call listen to several men berate (in the nicest of ways) a poor (female!) technological specialist that when they printed out the spreadsheets she prepared, they looked different. I am sure they have no clue how to set up the printing areas. I have never met this girl but was sending her a psychic hug. Thank goodness no one can see the faces I make while on teleconferences! (Though I have to be very careful on the days we do videoconference...)

They give me very well meaning advice but they do it, stopping by my cubicle for a friendly chat, when I am actually doing work. I really don't care about your collection that much (and I can fake it pretty well after years of assuring my father the blues is indeed, SO interesting).

I know I will adapt. And we do get along. Our corny senses of humour line up very well, my boss's jokes do make me laugh. Just stop getting 'Twitter' wrong OK?

(Eesh - my poor 60 year old father, this loss tonight is going to hit him hard. Next year boys. I, however, am quite pleased I declined to go out tonight and spend money, rather stayed in, made awesome soup [post to follow] and am going to bed on time.)