We Are the Oscillograph

To take us to the sky,

We study the celluloid film,

The oscillograph paper enfolded in our hands,

The numbers are reduced again.

Reels of paper pool at our feet,

It requires careful observation,

All that we are is a computer of women.

We weave the punch cards,

Gentle copper threads dance around towers of circles,

Dancing in,

And out,

Forming a structure of strength,

Of memory,

Of information.

We were weavers and spinners,

Delicate thread between index and thumb,

This copper,

It indents,

It does not make a shawl, a rug, or a sail,

This copper:

We are coding.

The paper is of no use to us,

The holes - they are fragile,

They hold little power.

This is not a loom,

This is a computer.

We weave,

They calculate,

The sums are complete,

The weaving is done,

And we are heading for the stars.

Words by Georgia Warrington, they/she