By Emily Stonehouse

My husband is an engineer. I remember asking him once what his dream job would be. 

“I’m doing it,” he replied, with confidence. He works hard and enjoys the challenges and wins that come with the career. 

Naturally, his eldest daughter has been inspired by his passion for the job. She’s coming up on 12; the world laid out ahead of her, and the possibilities rolling as far as her dreams can take her. 

“I want to be an engineer,” she said, one day not so long ago. Of course, we would be supportive of anything that makes her heart sing and her mind thrive, but at the piqued interest of potentially following in his footsteps, my husband beamed. 

But I stopped. Caught off guard. Frozen in headlights. 

Because all my mind was screaming was December 6. 14 women. 

Because they were women. Because they were women. Because they were women. 

Every woman has pictured herself in the shoes of one of those women at École Polytechnique on December 6, 1989. The Montreal Massacre. A shooter enters the room, and barks out orders. 

Men on one side, women on the other. 

December 6. 14 women. Because they were women. 

And every year, we remember them. Like many significant events in human history, their deaths set off a domino effect of changes: national access to firearms was altered, emergency protocols shifted, and suddenly, violence against women found itself a spot on an international stage. 

And while many take the time to reflect, how far have we really come in terms of lessening the gap that so many fell through? Engineering is still a male-dominated industry; with over 86 per cent in the field identifying as male. 

Journalism is also an area where men take the lead, and while I deeply respect and admire my male colleagues, I find myself bumping against a glass ceiling on a regular basis; a moth chasing a light through the window. 

And for the women who are in these fields – elbowing our way through the masses and clawing at splintered glass – the gender wage gap still exists. As of July of this year, in Canadian private sector positions, men make an average of 10 per cent more than women, with an hourly average wage gap of 13 per cent across the country. And that’s just skimming the surface of the gendered disparities that run rampant in our society. 

All because they were women. 

It’s these discrepancies, these blatant examples of misogynistic imbalance, that force women to feel less. That drain us; using our energy to continually bump up against that glass ceiling. Again and again. A moth to the light. 

We need to scream from the rooftops that we need change. Create a world filled with people who understand empathy, who strive for equity, who fight for fairness. The next generation is dependent on that. We can always do better. For them. For December 6. For 14 women. Because they were women. 

So that one day, when our daughters tell us they dream of being engineers, or anything else on the other side of that glass ceiling, may we all be able to beam, with the possibilities rolling as far as their dreams can take them.