The Nuts and Bolts of Being a Migrant Professional Women

Being a woman is not easy, since we are babies, we are tied to prejudices, and as we grow old these ties become stronger. We are thought to remain quiet, and silent, to accept our role in society, and to avoid trouble.

In developing countries like mine, we are told to avoid careers that make us look less female, jobs that might affect our availability as mums or make us less attractive wives. Fighting all these ideas and beliefs is hard, and usually involves being isolated.

I’ve felt isolated since I mentioned I wanted to be an engineer; it became worse when I said I want to occupy a major global company's leadership position. And I definitely cannot say it became better when I moved abroad.

Back in my school days, I remember my passion for numbers, exact sciences, and anything related to tech. My learning hunger was insatiable, so I wanted to attend the best schools. Nonetheless, life obstacles have been always in place. Although I started and finished school earlier, I could never attend the best school. My mom raised me alone and our budget was always limited, so some things needed to be prioritized while others required to be left aside. My mom is a strong and smart woman, even though she could not afford to give me the best of everything, she did provide me with the most practical survival tools. I’ve learned different languages and acquired skills that help me to be more efficient and competitive. In fact, these tools allowed me to enter the best universities in the world.

Nonetheless, despite my qualifications, skills, and experiences finding an opportunity that could allow me to grow and become the leader I want to be, has been a pain in the ass. Indeed, I haven’t landed the role that exploits the best of me yet. When talking with other women with similar backgrounds, I’ve found out that being a professional migrant a woman involves facing not only racism but condescension. Even though we have as many qualifications as any local, and in many cases, even more, our visa constraints and society’s prejudices towards developing countries make our race harder.

We are not only seen as a cheap workforce but are usually offered positions far below our calcifications. Our experiences are not considered, and our need for visas makes us vulnerable to accepting poor working conditions.

When I arrived in the UK, I had only 900 euros in my account, which is nothing considering London prices. Luckily, I had a friend who could host me and although my company offered me two weeks’ accommodation, they were not happy about me asking them to pay for that. I ended up in London not precisely because it was my choice but because another company made mistakes with my visa application in Spain. Even when I accepted a lower salary than my classmates just because I am a migrant professional woman. My situation in London is not the best either, I had to accept a job that is below my qualification with a salary that only allows me to survive in the city.

Despite my efforts, prizes, and recognitions, I still had to accept a position that was below did not matched my experience and skills, nor my expectations. In the era of inclusiveness, equity, and diversity, this is surreal. What’s worse, these sorts of situations are more common than expected. As part of different forums and groups of women, I’m constantly reading stories of females who are having a hard time finding a job, getting an acceptable salary, or being recognized for their achievements. In most cases the visa is the main constraint, either companies are not open to sponsor them, or they disregard their qualifications and offer them trainee positions.

So, how can we talk about inclusion, diversity, empathy, or resilience? Are these only trending concepts that cannot be applied? How can we tackle this problem?