Hidden Figures: The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians Who Helped Win the Space Race

by Margot Lee Shetterly

Just as islands—isolated places with unique, rich biodiversity—have relevance for the ecosystems everywhere, so does studying seemingly isolated or overlooked people and events from the past turn up unexpected connections and insights to modern life.

Some scientists speculated that if a pilot succeeded in pushing his plane through the sound barrier, either the plane or the pilot or both would disintegrate from the force of the shock waves.

But on October 14, 1947, pilot Chuck Yeager,

flying over the Mojave Desert in an NACA-developed experimental research plane called the Bell X-1, pierced the sound barrier for the first time in history, a fact that was corroborated by the female computers on the ground who analy...

From 1941 through 1945, Doris Cohen published nine reports documenting experiments conducted at the frontier of high-speed aeronautical research, five as the sole author, and four coauthored with R. T. Jones (whom she would eventually marry). It was the kind of prodigious output that even aspiring male engineers could only hope to replicate. Getting one’s name on a research report was a necessary first step in the career of an engineer. For a woman, it was a significant and unusual achievement.

As a seasoned test pilot, Glenn knew that the only way to remove all danger from the mission was to never leave Earth. The former Marine was the first pilot to average supersonic speeds in a transcontinental flight. From Project Mercury’s outset, the NASA engineers had the delicate task of balancing the drive to get into space as quickly as possible with the risk they felt they could reasonably ask their human cargo to accept.

February 20 dawned with clearing skies. No one who witnessed the events of the day would ever forget them. One hundred thirty-five million people, an audience of unprecedented size, tuned in to watch the spectacle as it unfolded on live television.

The city of Hampton changed its official seal to depict a crab holding a Mercury capsule in its claw, adopting the motto E Praeteritis Futura: Out of the past, the future. Military Highway, the town’s main drag since Hampton’s days as a war boomtown, got a new name: Mercury Boulevard.

By recognizing the full complement of extraordinary ordinary women who have contributed to the success of NASA, we can change our understanding of their abilities from the exception to the rule. Their goal wasn’t to stand out because of their differences; it was to fit in because of their talent. Like the men they worked for, and the men they sent hurtling off into the atmosphere, they were just doing their jobs. I think Katherine would appreciate that.

Christine was the sole author. The code she wrote as an aspiring engineer is still the core of sonic boom minimization programs that aerodynamicists use today. It was an important contribution and a career-making achievement, but the road from that breakthrough moment to becoming an internationally recognized sonic boom expert with sixty technical publications and presentations under her belt and a member of NASA’s Senior Executive Service was still not direct.

By the mid-1980s, Christine had moved up to GS-13, but even with the doctorate, she was having problems breaking into GS-14. On the other hand, a white male engineer who had started at the same time, with similar quality performance reviews, had already hit the GS-15 level. Gloria knew the Langley way: “Present your case, build it, sell it so they believe it.” She created a bar chart and showed it to the head of her directorate—a manager one level down from the top of Langley—who was shocked at the disparity. With Gloria’s efforts, the promotion came, and after it, the renown and the mobility for Christine that should come to people with such outstanding abilities. It was one of Gloria’s proudest moments. Christine had already done the work; Langley just needed someone who could help it see the hidden figures.