In worship this morning, I was reluctant at first. It's hard to be without your child on a holiday, especially Christmas. My church family was loving and understanding, and after a few minutes of feeling the care of this family of faith, I was singing, joyfully. Every element reminded me that no matter how dark things feel, the light will always shine brighter. Always.
After church, I was delighted to share a Christmas feast with dear friends from church who welcomed me and several other friends to their home. This couple is so full of love, in a way that brings people together. We shared conversation. We were honest, in ways rarely done among people who have just met. It was beautiful. Lunch felt like communion, like the Kingdom of God breaking forth among us.
After lunch, I saw Hidden Figures. This is a must see. I laughed. I cried. I remembered. I dreamed. I hoped.
Though I am now a historian and minister, in a previous life, I was an engineer. I lived, breathed, ate, and slept mathematics. I used to do extra self-assigned math homework for fun. While other kids were at football games or sleepovers, I was reviewing Trigonometry or practicing my Differential Equations. I carried engineering paper like most people carry chapstick. I still do extra math homework for fun, because I enjoy it.
Hidden Figures tells the story of Katherine Goble Johnson, one of the finest mathematicians (called "computers") in the history of NASA. Her parents advocated for her to have appropriate education for her mathematical brilliance. Through hard work and a supportive family, Katherine belonged to a team of Black female computers, resourcing the space program.
As a former engineer, I savored the chalkboards filled with equations, the pencils always in hand, the constant desire to fix things yourself because you can. It took me back to late nights in the study lounge of my college dorm, frantically trying to solve my Physics homework. Did you know that throughout my undergraduate degree, I created a poster of math formulas? As I completed each class, I'd add "must know" formulas such that by the time I graduated, that poster was a gal's best friend. People would want to study in my room just so they could be near the poster. I am so disappointed that I did not keep it.
As one of the only women in a large engineering program, I appreciated the way the movie depicted women's second class citizenship. I remember professors addressing "gentlemen" or "you guys" even though there were women in the room. I remember people assuming I was incompetent at programming and computer hardware, just because I was female. I remember the satisfaction of finishing my lab project first, and correctly.
There were two white women on faculty in my department, but they primarily focused on their research labs. The professors who were taking initiative to encourage minority students were Black faculty, and that's where I found my home.
Dr. Kendall Harris coordinated summer engineering camps for teenagers, which I attended twice. Once I was a college student, Dr. Harris, whom I now affectionately call "Uncle Doc," hired me as a camp counselor for four years. Engineering camp is one of my fondest memories of college. These camps were particularly designed to promote minority interest in STEM programs. The kids visited research labs, worked on team projects, and even visited companies to see real-life applications of what they had been learning. My favorite was the tour of Six Flags, where we learned from the engineers who designed the rides. We walked the track, and they taught us about electromagnetic propulsion and how to calculate which seat on the ride would feel the most Gs. For that week of camp, everyone was a future engineer. Everyone's ideas were important and encouraged. There was no place for "but I'm ___" because we were too busy designing the future.
I didn't realize at the time what an impression engineering camp had made on my life.
Watching Hidden Figures brought back these memories in a wonderful way, reminding me of my past, and connecting it with my future.
The movie honestly depicts the third and fourth class citizenship of Black women. Though they have the same credentials as other employees, they were relegated to a satellite campus with substandard facilities and inferior compensation. Throughout the movie, there are opportunities to better understand how systemic prejudice, not just individual acts of bigotry, operate. There are scenes of dialogue that expose stereotyping, entire story lines necessary to convey the extent of prejudice against people of color, and witty one-liners that resist oppression. My favorite at the moment is one by Katherine herself, in conversation with a man who doubted her employment with NASA: "Yes, they let women do some things at NASA, Mr. Johnson. And it's not because we wear skirts...it's because we wear glasses."
Throughout the movie, there are women who resist oppression in search of true equality and freedom. They know what they are made of. They know what they are capable of. They know what they deserve. And not only are they excellent on the job day in and day out, but they are even preparing for the future from their own vision and insight, proving that they were brighter than the leading minds at NASA. Bricks without straw, and they kept on building, higher and better.
My engineering days are behind me, and I am now a professional historian of race and gender. I think that my engineering background, particularly my experiences being mentored by Dr. Harris, has a lot to do with why my historical interests center around the Civil Rights Movement and the religious leadership of women.
In my line of work, I often have conversations with well-meaning people who believe that because they do not commit personal acts of bigotry, that those prejudices no longer operate in our society. The fact that you can opt out of awareness of prejudice demonstrates your privilege. If you are in the groups against which prejudice is directed, you cannot opt out. You have to navigate the system and somehow find ways to still be true to yourself. Sometimes that means that you take the risk of speaking truth to power.
I am white, and I grew up in a middle-class family in which both parents earned graduate-level degrees. I have privilege. I am also a woman who has experienced marginalization in both the engineering and religious fields. I am also a divorced mother. I experience prejudice against me fairly regularly. As a white person, I could isolate myself in white circles and turn a blind eye to what the rest of the world faces. As a woman, I have realized that I will never be equal until all other forms of prejudice are eradicated: racism, sexism, classism, homophobia, xenophobia, ageism, etc. Unless we are all free, none of us are free.
Hidden Figures beautifully painted the complex landscape of prejudice in America, a land which prides itself on freedom but does not deliver. Certainly it did not address everything, but if you're watching carefully, you can learn a lot more than you might think. These women had to be excellent to be taken seriously, in a way men do not experience. As parents and spouses, these women relied on supportive families to share in household responsibilities, which continues to be a difficult balance for working mothers. As people of color, they had to fight for their right to education and necessary resources to do their jobs, including things most white people would take for granted.
Prejudice is not just committed person-to-person. It is also, and mostly, committed by systems. It is deeply enmeshed in our cultures, our language, and our traditions. It is so present that we do not realize how much we engage in prejudicial acts.
Stereotypes thrive unless personal experience exposes the inaccuracy of our prejudices. Reconciliation cannot happen until we see and treat every single person as made just as much in the image of God as we are. It means change, especially for the comfortable, but it is necessary and righteous.
I have been feeling the weight of this present darkness, and Hidden Figures reminded me of the light, which is always brighter. Always.
This Christmas, give your family the gift of seeing Hidden Figures. Talk about it together. Reflect on ways that you may be complicit with prejudice against women and people of color, and talk about what changes you will make to see and treat each person as made in the image of God.
Lord, in your mercy, may there be peace on earth, and may we love each other as you love us.
[Uncle Doc and Me, 1998] [Uncle Doc and Me, 2015]
