I am a student. My field of study is library and information science. It’s been 15 years since I was last in school, finishing up my degree in computer science. During those 15 years, I’ve been on teams made up almost exclusively by cisgender heterosexual white men. And while I am white, those other labels don’t apply to me.
The statistics are clear: almost all librarians outside of administrative roles are white women. 90% of the faculty I’m studying under are women. Most of my classmates are women. But just as I’m not a man, I’m not a woman, either.
As far as I can determine, I am the only non-binary person in my LIS student cohort, just like I was the only non-binary person in the last 5 companies I worked at. Even in places that have effusive DEIA statements and a strong social justice commitment, I look around and I don’t see people like me. It feels isolating.
But there are other people out there like me, whose gender doesn’t fit in either of Western culture’s two rigid gender boxes. They need to see other people like them in software engineering roles. They need to see other people like them when they visit their library. They need to know that their experience is valid, that there are others out there, that we can survive and thrive.
I pursue this because I’m fascinated by it, passionate about it. I want to grow into the person I see at the end of this road. Even if I’m one of the few blazing the trail. Because there are non-binary people who don’t realize that we can become software engineers and librarians, who look at these fields and don’t see themselves and can imagine the isolation they would feel walking the same paths that I am on. And I don’t want them to feel that way, because I can remember how it felt for me. How it still feels for me.
I want non-binary librarians and non-binary programmers to be more common. We have a lot to offer from our unique experience and perspective, especially to other non-binary people. I want to be a part of that.