I have always been interested in tech since I was young. I was the kid who wanted to understand how every button worked, who opened apps just to see what would happen, who felt a spark of curiosity every time a computer screen lit up. So when I walked into my first CS class, I expected to feel excited and ready to learn. What I did not expect was to feel invisible the moment I sat down.

I understood the code. I did the work. But the way people looked at me, and the way they reacted when I spoke, made it clear that they did not see me as an equal. It felt like I was being treated as an object in the room rather than a student with ideas and potential. My perspective felt undervalued before I even wrote a single line. That feeling shook me more than any coding challenge ever could.

There was one moment that stayed with me. We were working on a debugging problem, and even though I had the right reasoning, no one listened until someone else repeated the same idea I had just explained. Watching my voice get ignored made me feel powerless in a way that had nothing to do with Java. It made me question whether people like me truly belonged in computer science, despite my love for technology having been with me for years.

But I made a choice. Instead of letting that moment define my place in the field, I stayed after class, asked questions, kept speaking up even when people talked over me, and kept showing up every single day. Through that process, I learned something important. Power in tech is not about already having the respect of the room. It is about refusing to shrink yourself. It is about continuing to learn, continuing to try, and continuing to take up space even when others would prefer that you did not.

That experience opened my eyes to something bigger. This is why so many girls do not go into computer science. It is not that we cannot understand the content. It is that our voices are dismissed before they are even heard. We are underestimated, interrupted, or treated like we have to prove our worth twice as hard. Once I felt that pressure myself, I understood the invisible barriers that push so many girls out of STEM before they even begin.

And my experience is not unique. Many students, especially girls, students of color, immigrants, and first-generation kids, walk into STEM classrooms wanting to learn but end up feeling unheard or undervalued. That reality goes against the values we share. We believe in curiosity, opportunity, fairness, and community. When even one student feels silenced, all of us lose ideas, creativity, and potential.

Right now, we are facing a challenge. Too many students are still entering STEM spaces and feeling small, isolated, or unwelcome. But we have a choice. We can ignore that problem, or we can change it.

So here is my call. Let us create a mentorship program that connects older students with younger ones, a space where questions are welcomed, experiences are shared, and confidence grows. Let us build a community where no one has to walk into a CS classroom feeling alone, where every student knows they have someone who understands their challenges and believes in their potential.

If we build something like this together, we can create a future where every student, no matter their gender, background, or identity, feels valued and seen. And maybe the next girl who walks into a CS class won’t feel invisible at all. She will feel supported from the moment she walks in.