Turbulent Flow

‎'When I grow up I want to be an engineer just like you Mama!'

A warm fuzzy from my 3-year-old on the anniversary of the tragedy at the École Polytechnique. On December 6th 1989, 14 women were separated from their male classmates and murdered for simply being at an engineering school.

I graduated from high school the same year most of the victims were scheduled to complete their mechanical engineering degrees. Now a mechanical engineer myself, they are women who would have.. could have.. should have been my mentors. I didn't know any of them personally, but I do know that this male dominated profession is lesser without them. I can only imagine how much they are missed by those who did.

First we mourn. Then we work for change.

Geneviève Bergeron
Hélène Colgan
Nathalie Croteau
Barbara Daigneault
Anne-Marie Edward
Maud Haviernick
Maryse Laganière
Maryse Leclair
Anne-Marie Lemay
Sonia Pelletier
Michèle Richard
Annie St-Arneault
Annie Turcotte
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz

I've worked as an engineer for over 15 years. Unfortunately, I've felt the hostility some express toward women in this male dominated profession. Thankfully, I've worked with many many others who clearly welcome my contribution.

I follow the CorpGoth blog which recently put a call out asking 'What's your work 'uniform' or go-to outfit?' Engineers are not a demographic known for their fashion stylings. Most of us are easily identified by the khaki pants and a polo shirt worn day, after day, after day… Sadly, I'm pretty guilty of dressing to type.

I work as a machine safety consultant. I review equipment to determine whether it meets safety codes to prevent workers from getting hurt. Most days are some combination of in the car driving out to a client, out on a factory floor looking at machines and in the office typing out reports. My clients make a wide range of things so I could be looking at an assembly machine for car parts or robots stacking ice cream tubs depending on the day.

A life long inability to match colours provides me with an excuse to feed my own preference for wearing too much black. My casual and work wardrobes rarely venture very far from my black/gray/burgundy safety zone which is exactly what I am wearing here:

Along with the burgundy top and plain black pants, I'm wearing steel-toed safety shoes and safety glasses. I usually carry a black leather bag with a tablet, camera, measuring tape and smartphone. Normally, my hair is pulled back into some sort of bun-like pile to prevent it from getting accidentally pulled into the equipment. Different factories have different safety requirements so depending on the client I could be adding any combination of ear plugs, hairnet, hard hat, shoe booties or more rugged safety boots to the ensemble. Most places don't allow jewelry on the factory floor, so I never accessorize beyond the engineering iron ring I always wear.

I've learned the hard way that black is a poor choice to wear to a paper mill and white should never be worn in a chocolate factory. Skirts of any kind pretty much guarantee that I'll find myself climbing a ladder or walking across an open grating platform so I don't. Some high security facilities have 'metal free' requirements which limit clothing options to something resembling workout wear (can't even wear a bra with hooks or pants with a zipper). One particular facility even required a strip search on the way out; thankfully, I only visited once.

So there it is. Not exactly fashionable, but the bar is set pretty low to begin with. I try to wear clothes that look professional but are simple and comfortable enough to allow me to get down on a dirty floor to look under machinery.

It is Thanksgiving weekend up here North of the 40th parallel and I've got a case of the sniffles. I know I've got a lot to be thankful for when a minor cold is my biggest problem.

To the best of my knowledge everyone I care about is healthy or on the mend. All of our parents are doing well. Simon's Dad made it through a quintuple bypass last month and is improving daily. My own father continues to defy the odds and has a clean bill of health over 12 years after a stage 4 cancer diagnosis and Portia's paternal grandparents are healthy as horses. Kids, babies and friend's baby in progress are growing. What more could I ask for?

Simon has taken charge of T-day dinner while I break out my kitchen assistant skills. One of my part-time jobs in undergrad was as a dish-pig at a local pub. For minimum wage I prepped food, mixed salads, washed dishes, worked the deep fryer and learned to make everything on the menu. Back in town for my 10 year reunion the owner confirmed me as holding the title of only female to work that kitchen, both then and since. I've claimed that title in every engineering job as well. Seems I have a well established tradition in that regard.

I've been marvelling at how much has changed over the last few years. Seemed like a good time to capture a snapshot of what things look like right now.

5am-7:30
Kid is singing 'I'm ready to get uuuuup' over and over. Drag self out of bed, climb into hers and convince her to remain vaguely horizontal for another hour by allowing her to lay on top of me. Finally give up and proceed with the usual shower, breakfast, kid circus that we like to call our morning.

8am
Drop kid off at daycare and hit the highway myself. The workday has begun. I schedule a time buffer in my appointments to allow for traffic jams and toddler morning delay tactics. The extra early wake-up combined with light traffic gets me on-site a half hour early. Normally I'd hunt down a coffee, but this client is located next to a grocery store so I pick up a few things left on my Thanksgiving prep list. Take a phone call in the store to field a client question and then check email before driving across the street.

9:30am
Safety shoes on, hair tied back and into the factory. Drop off reports from my last visit, meet with client, pick up a copy of the electrical drawings and look at the machine. I've reviewed this one before, so I just need to look at the modifications. Make a few notes, take pictures and back in the car.

10am
Laying in the kid's bed this morning reminded me that the extra pillow is flat and the blanket (that she refuses to sleep under) too thin for the cold nights. The new house has us needing random home goods so I detour into IKEA on the way home and power shop. 20 minutes later I'm throwing a duvet, window sheers and a bathmat into the car and back on the road.

11:30am
Unload the car, leash up the dog and head down to the local butcher shop for this weekend's turkey. Alternate dog walking activities include report mailing and bank runs. Throw a load of laundry in and with errands and chores officially complete I carry lunch up to the office and settle into an afternoon with the computer. I'd rather not say what lunch was exactly, but let's just say it involved process cheese and far too many nitrates.

12pm
Download photos, review electrical drawings, emails, phone calls, report writing, quotes, accounting, blah, blah, blah. Thought I'd be doing that for the rest of the afternoon, but a surprise call from another client has me heading out again… oh wait, nope, we'll do that tomorrow. Okay, back to the original plan… this happens a lot.

4pm
Meet Portia's daycare group at the park. Play for a bit and continue to ride this unusual shopping tear by walking to the nearby plaza to get winter boots for the kid. Then head home just as the rain starts and washes away any residual guilt I was feeling about taking the car for pick-up instead of the bike trailer. Feed the kid a snack, make dinner, play and unpack the rest of the shopping. Simon rolls in around 5 and family dinner at 6pm. Roast brussels sprouts and chicken counteract the less than stellar lunch choice.

6:30pm
Dinner gets cleaned up and the TV goes on for 30-45min. Kid gets jammied-up, teeth brushed and story time. A few additional glasses of water, trips to the bathroom and finally down for the night.

8pm
Pour a beer and flake out.

10pm
Goodnight!

I recently came across the New Domesticity website discussing our cultures current fetishization of all things domestic especially when combined with parenting. Fascinating stuff. I've been reading mommyblogs for years and most definitely show signs of having drunk the blog-porn koolaid. Knitting, home diy, organic food eating, and blogging definitely top my favoured leisure activities list.

My problem though, is that I cannot figure out where everyone else is finding the time. For me, having a kid pushed all that stuff not just onto the backburner, but right off the damn stove. Judging by the funk of organic baby spinach mixed with alpaca, I think it spilled down the back and may be decomposing onto the floor... Daycare dropoff and pick up, work, dog walking, dinner and playing with the kiddo quickly use up the weekday with maybe an hour left over to drink a beer and catch up with Simon. Maybe it is just proof that I'm not a super mommy. When the kid heads out to spend time with her Dad/Grandparents and free time does appear I selfishly spend it picking at the pile of books or catching up with this century (aka any tv show produced after 2008).

The logical part of me is okay with that and knows that aiming for just being a decent parent who loves her kid and keeps the mortgage paid. But there is something about the current media that says I should also be harvesting tomatos, sewing quilts, planning elaborate harvest feasts, raising chickens in the back yard and documenting it all with perfectly curated photoshopped images that get posted to the blog more than once a season....

Ultimately, what this is probably telling me is that media could use a few more voices beyond those making it seem like all that is doable for those of us living in the real world. But who is going to blog/facebook about heating up frozen pizza and having family dinner in front of Netflix?