How to start as a female in a male dominated industry

A woman starting out in an almost exclusively male environment may sometimes feel the need to impose herself and to be aggressive in order to avoid coming off as “weak”. We often hear “you must have quite a character to work in this sector!” That is the attitude I myself adopted when I first started, which I’ll describe and explain in further detail. This will also allow me to give you a few key elements on a successful entry into a new company (spoiler: don’t behave like me at 22).

I started at Schlumberger in the training center – we spend four months there, before going on the field. The formation allows you to learn about the job, but also serves as a method of selection, with only half of the applicants staying. Stress is at its paroxysm and we all look at each other wondering who will make it.

Being the only woman, I feel like I need not only to succeed, but to succeed brilliantly, to prove that the presence of a woman is not a mistake. In 1989, women only account for 1% of recruits. Thus, I have the impression that I am under a microscope, as a part of a laboratory experiment called: “What can a woman do in this role?” Failing would show that the trust invested in me was not deserved.

Added to this is a deep belief that a woman has to prove herself, show that she belongs here. Perhaps the vestige of a mother with the baccalaureate, working at a time where most women were full-time housewives? An unconscious bias that originates from our societal system? To be honest, I don’t really know, but it’s clearly a bias that resisted to the past decades and that I find in a lot of women today still.

Thus, during this training, I constantly have to do more. Except that these beliefs, this feeling of having to legitimize my place, aren’t without consequences.

I automatically consider every sign of attention towards me as a sign or paternalistic sexism. I bite every hand that comes my way. And quickly, it backlashes and hits me back in the face, in boomerang mode. My colleagues stop talking to me. They are tired of my constant anger and have better things to do tan to take care of an irascible woman/hungry lioness in a cage.

It’s a vicious circle. I’m very aggressive, the others answer hostilely, comforting me in the idea that I was right to be that way… Etc.

And then, one day, I start questioning myself. I realize that, although I’m always right (of course), the fact that everyone is against me shows that it might actually maybe, possibly be my fault… and that I need to change my behavior – especially since isolation is weighing me down.

In doing this analysis of conscience, I realized that I became very unpleasant to live with, so it’s not surprising that others hate my company.

After deciding to change mindsets, it became easier than I thought. How did the change occur exactly? First, I had to stop comparing myself to others. In the end, no one but myself had asked me to be the best. Secondly, instead of attacking every colleague offering help – to show that “no, sir, I can manage on my own! It’s not because I’m a woman that you should think I can’t do it!”, I kindly accept any good soul willing to help me. Thus, my colleagues quickly become friends, and I become a part of the group.

Being a woman in a male-dominated environment is hard enough, there’s no need to make things more complicated. Companies offer a job to a collaborator because they think he/she is the most qualified for the position. They usually don’t do it out of the goodness of their heart. Once the person has accepted the position, all that’s left is to work and excel at the job, as expected. But the person has nothing to prove, and just needs to focus on doing the job to the best of his or her ability. It’s by doing the job well that people show everyone that they are the right person for the mission. Thus, wanting to prove your worth as a woman, as I’ve done in the past, is completely counterproductive and unjustified. If she’s been offered the job, then she’s entirely legitimate.

Unfortunately, this trend isn’t dead yet. There’s still a long way to go before it disappears fully. Women still are (or feel) more tested than men. It’s important to resist and not get sucked into the game of colleagues, who have no right to judge our credibility and capacity to fulfill a position that company executives have trusted us with.

At 22, having the strength to question myself is what allowed me to continue and find my place and eventually end up where I am today. But for one person that finds a fit, how many give up? How many end up depressed?

Just like me, maybe their erratic behavior kept others away, without having the chance to fix things. Or a lack of confidence in their legitimacy got the best of them. That’s why it’s important to take a step back and remember that if you are in this seat, it is because qualified people believe that you belong there. An endless comparison won’t get you anywhere. Keep your head high and work with confidence and pride!

My first steps on a platform – part two

I was telling you in a previous article about my first steps on a platform, explaining the little hassles I faced. Today, I would like to discuss with you the notion of human relations. As you can imagine, being the only woman amongst 80 men wasn’t always simple.

During the first trips, I stay in the shadow of my tutor. I try to remain unnoticed, I make myself as small and possible and don’t go anywhere without him.

Being in training, I am not sure I understand what is happening around me, which doesn’t help me to assert myself. I’m not ready for the slightest confrontation; I don’t feel armed for that.

Nevertheless, my skillset expands rapidly. I become increasingly comfortable and start to gain in confidence.

And then one day, my tutor is called urgently on another mission. Ours isn’t finished, but what is left is easy enough for me to take over the project. There I am, alone for the first time.

A few minutes after his departure, while the helicopter is still in sight, the phone of our work unit rings. A voice, obviously a man’s, tells me that he’d like to get to know me better. My answer is icy : « this phone call is a mistake and I will forget it. But if you call me again, I will file a complaint against you to the head of the platform. »

You might be wondering, why such a violent reaction to this request ? Because this innocent request occurs in the middle of the sea, and I’m the only woman on board. I need to establish the rules from the start. And what might come off as a nice introduction in a normal environment cannot be allowed on a rig.

Thankfully, positioning myself from the first day was enough to build my reputation and no-one bothered me from that day on.

What happens if you don’t react like that? Actually it happened when a young intern joined us. She was much more polite than me, so she quickly became overwhelmed with requests of all kinds. Once again, nothing aggressive or mean, but it made her very uncomfortable and I had to intervene to make it stop.

A first clarification from the beginning is enough. Once the rules are established, it becomes possible to have friendly relations with colleagues, very nice indeed, because any kind of ambiguity has vanished. Again, I’m talking about an extreme environment. A woman who works in an environment that is almost exclusively male often understands the rules of the game as a result of an unpleasant experience. To avoid that, it is better to be firm from the start. Observe for a while, step-up and don’t let ordinary sexism shake you.

A few weeks later, once my training period is over, my first mission begins. It is a disaster. 30 years ago, we were constantly juggling with tools that take measurements at the bottom of the well, tickling the limits of that technology (> 120 degrees…etc.). Breakdowns can happen and our formation teaches us how to deal with them. My first solo job… and my first failure. This is a rather minor one, which doesn’t affect the hydrocarbon reservoir area, and therefore has no real impact. However, I submit a file with inconsistent results and erratic measures. The client, angry, seizes that opportunity to try and switch engineers to get « rid » of me. Long story short, he’s not willing to do me any favors and is certainly not ready to accept the inconveniences resulting from my inexperience. Having a woman on board is already complicated to manage, so he doesn’t tolerate any mistakes on her part.

I haven’t often been confronted to this kind of sexism, which requires women to be better than men and which doesn’t forgive anything. My boss supports me and I return to the same platform shortly after. This time, the mission runs smoothly – so much so that the client later asked my boss not to replace me. Once I had been accepted, he started appreciating what this feminine presence was bringing to the overall work atmosphere.

The first steps are difficult, to better walk the next ones.

My first steps on an oil rig

I’m 22 when I land in Nigeria (see my previous articles). I leave the comfort of the student life to enter that of the expatriate life. Another kind of comfort, but still a comfort, since we’re taken care of outside of work.

I share a room in a house with three other engineers. For lunch and dinner, we eat a delicious meal prepared by the company cook. A housekeeper, hired by the company, often comes to clean the house. Let’s just say that Nigeria is not going to turn me into the perfect housewife, despite my genes, which should make the learning process easier.

In town, when going to work at the base, I’m the only woman, surrounded by engineers. It doesn’t change from my mechanical engineering school, where we were only 5% of women. But the heart of my work, the missions, take place on the rig, where I spend on average 20 days a month.

The apprenticeship of the job takes about ten months. We start with four months in the formation center in Italy, followed by six months where we work in pairs with an experienced engineer. The formation ends when we take a real life test to make sure that we’ve reached the autonomy necessary for us to be entrusted with the operations of a rig.

On each trip, I’m the first woman to set foot on the rig that we’re going to, and they’re never prepared. On my end, I’m jaded by the third rig.

Their reactions? Always the same…

At first, the surprise. Even if my name appears on the helicopter passenger list, they don’t necessarily identify as it being woman’s name – I had to include somewhere that we go to work in a helicopter – pretty cool, no?

Once the surprise is over, the questions begin. Of course, I can’t avoid the interrogation. I know it’s nice curiosity, but it’s a little tiring to systematically have to justify yourself (why a woman chooses to do this job… etc.).

And finally, after recovering from the shock, the customer freaks out at the idea that a woman may disrupt his well-oiled machine. However, I have never experienced the excuse of “juju”. Unlike boats, women don’t seem to be a sign of bad luck on a rig.

First issue, where is she going to sleep? The rigs didn’t have female quarters in my time. At first, they insist on finding me an individual room – either the infirmary or the VIP room – but I don’t like that much. I’m noticed enough to begin with, I don’t need to receive extra preferential treatment.

The standard rooms have four bunk beds. I find a way to create a little cocoon in one of the bottom bunks with extra hanging blankets. This solution not only avoids hassles and « normalizes » me a little, but above all it allows me to stay with my team. Sleeping is no longer a problem… even if I still have to bear with the men’s snoring. But we sleep so little that we tend to crawl into our beds, rocked by the permanent purring of the rig’s engines.

The main issue is the bathroom. Once again, no female bathroom. It doesn’t necessarily bother me to share it with men. The only problem is that they tend to forget that I’m here, so they often get out of the sower naked, as usual… Which could lead to pretty embarrassing moments for us all.

I quickly realize that there’s an individual bathroom – the boss’ one. During every mission, I manage to convince him to share it with me, which he does happily, until the day he finds himself surrounded my lingerie (the legend says he still hasn’t gotten over it).

This leads me to the last issue, the washing of my underwear… Apart from the fact that I don’t really trust the machine made to wash our blue jumpsuits, the rig employees categorically refuse to touch these « impious » objects… So I have to wash them by hand. Washing them is alright, but what about the drying? Putting my panties to dry in a room that I share with my team is not very tempting – so the bathroom it will be!

No life lesson today! Just some funny little stories, reflecting some of the small difficulties that a woman sometimes faces in a male environment. It seems pretty minor when told like this, but sometimes it doesn’t take a lot more to dissuade women from coming. Each of these little disturbances can give the impression that one doesn’t belong there.

Next week, a few more indiscretions about my life on the platform.

 

Chapter 5 – Un travail pas comme les autres

Un travail pas comme les autres

Je suis la seule stagiaire de la base et les ingénieurs se donnent le mot pour m’emmener sur le rig. J’effectue de nombreuses missions en un temps record. Cela a pour conséquence de m’aguerrir et l’ingénieur en titre me laisse de plus en plus d’opportunités de travailler directement sur l’ordinateur.

Continue reading → Chapter 5 – Un travail pas comme les autres

Chapter 1 – Et tout commençât…

Je suis arrivée un petit peu en avance, pas trop, juste assez pour être polie. Surtout, ne pas leur laisser voir ma nervosité.

Je me retourne. A côté de moi un jeune cadre dynamique, caricature du jeune loup aux dents longues, costume gris et cravate à la mode. Un peu plus loin, emprunté dans ses habits du dimanche, un Indiana Jones qui ne tient pas en place. A ma gauche, l’éternel premier de la classe, auquel ne manquent même pas les lunettes. Je continue mon petit tour, nous sommes douze en tout, moyenne d’age, environ 22 – 25 ans. Tous en veste et cravate. Que des cravates? Quelle surprise ! Pas d’autre “elle” à l’horizon. Une contre onze. La bataille va être rude

Continue reading → Chapter 1 – Et tout commençât…