The Harmful Myth of "This Isn’t for Me" – IEEE/ACM CHASE 2025 Conference on Connected Health

My first academic conference shattered a myth, and I finally understood why representation isn’t just a buzzword. 

The Wake-Up Call

I recently attended the IEEE/ACM CHASE 2025 conference on connected health. As someone from Africa, I used to imagine presenters at these events as superhuman geniuses – aliens operating on a level I could never reach. Their papers seemed like cryptic manuscripts; their presence felt untouchable. But after three days immersed in this world, my naivety was peeled away like old paint.

The Revelation
The room was filled with brilliant minds – 80% Asian, 20% White, and a scattering of others. Including me, there were nine Black attendees among 140 participants. As I listened to presentations, something struck me: Their work was identical to what I’d done in my graduate classes. The same formula:

1. Pick a topic (like we do for projects).

2. Find a dataset (hello, Kaggle!).

3. Identify a problem (standard research 101).

4. Propose a solution (often untested in the real world).

5. Package it neatly (add graphs, polish slides).

No magic. No superpowers. Just time, resources, and institutional support.

Why Representation Matters
Here’s what hit me hardest: If I’d never shown up, I’d still believe "these things aren’t for people like me."
Growing up, pop culture taught us:

• Asian kid = math genius 👓

• Black kid = basketball star 🏀
  But MIT’s Nancy Kanwisher and Stanford’s Robert Sapolsky remind us: We’re born with the same hardware. We all enter the world crying and hungry. Everything else is learned. Yet society whispers:

“This lane is yours. That one? Not for you.”

The result? Talented Black students (like my peers back home) dismiss opportunities. “IEEE? Too complicated,” they say. “Not my thing.” But it’s not about ability. It’s about:

• Exposure (Have you seen someone like you here?).

• Investment (Did a professor mentor you?).

• Resources (Could you afford the $1,000 conference ticket?).

The Hidden Cost of Underrepresentation
At CHASE, I saw papers on mental health tech – topics I’d researched deeply. Some felt less rigorous than my own class projects. But those presenters had something I lacked:

• Professors who championed them.

• Labs that funded their work.

• Institutions that said, “You belong here.”

Meanwhile, my past work was dismissed as “just a school project.” Bias isn’t always malicious; sometimes it’s a failure to imagine someone as a protagonist.

The "AI" Elephant in the Room
Yes, AI dominated the conference (I drank every time someone said “model” – Homer Simpson would’ve been proud ). But beneath the buzzwords? Standard research workflows any undergrad could replicate. The difference? Someone paid for the ticket.

Your Takeaway: Show Up
Obama once said: “Walk into these rooms. You’ll realize they’re not that special.” He was right. Genius is rare; persistence is common. The formula isn’t secret:

1. Start small (class project → conference paper).

2. Find allies (professors, mentors).

3. Claim your seat (apply, even if you feel unqualified).

The Real Complication? Time + Access
It’s not about being “gifted.” It’s about:

• The professor who invests weekends guiding you.

• The department that funds your prototype.

• The conference that waives your fee.

Final Thought
To every student eyeing IEEE, Nature, or ACM: You’re already doing the work. The gap isn’t your intellect. It’s the runway beneath you. So:

• Ask for help.

• Submit that paper.

• Show up.

Because 90% of success is walking through the door – and realizing you’ve always belonged there.