He turned his back to me before I could correct him, tapping aggressively on his screen.
My name is Elena. I’m 45 years old, and I’m a high-voltage utility line worker. I climb utility poles, wrestle with live electrical wires, and keep the regional power grid running.
I was at this prestigious, ivy-covered East Coast university because my niece, Maya, had begged me to come. Maya is a brilliant engineering student, and her department was hosting a massive career day. They wanted a diverse range of “infrastructure professionals” to speak to the students.
I felt completely out of my element. The auditorium was filled with venture capitalists, software developers, and hedge fund managers. The air smelled like expensive cologne and fresh dry-cleaning.
I smelled like ozone, black coffee, and old leather.
I took my seat on the stage next to the man in the tailored suit. He visibly shifted his chair a few inches away from mine, clearly uncomfortable with my presence.
When it was his turn to speak, he commanded the room. He ran a massive tech startup. He talked for twenty minutes about “disrupting the digital landscape,” “leveraging cloud-based synergies,” and “gamifying the user experience.”
He used a lot of corporate buzzwords. The students scribbled furiously in their notebooks, mesmerized by the promise of corner offices and massive stock options.
Then, the moderator—a polished university dean—called my name.
“And now, representing our regional energy infrastructure sector, please welcome Elena Ramirez.”
The man next to me nearly dropped his tablet. His head snapped toward me, his eyes wide with sudden realization.
I stepped up to the podium. There was a polite, albeit confused, smattering of applause. The students looked at me like I had wandered in from a different planet.
“Hi,” I said into the microphone. “I don’t have a slideshow today. And to be honest, I don’t know what a cloud-based synergy is.”
A few kids chuckled nervously.
“Before this panel started, someone in this room assumed I was part of the janitorial staff because of how I’m dressed,” I said. I didn’t point at the tech executive, but I saw him swallow hard out of the corner of my eye.
“There’s absolutely no shame in being a janitor,” I continued. “The people who clean your dorms and empty your trash are essential. But that’s not what I do. I am a journeyman lineman. I maintain the physical grid that powers your entire world.”
