A Fireside Chat with Professor Anne-Marie Imafidon MBE 

Professor Anne-Marie Imafidon MBE on curiosity, community, representation and creating a STEM sector that works for everyone. 

Professor Anne-Marie Imafidon MBE has spent much of her life challenging assumptions about who belongs in science and technology. From an early fascination with computers to founding Stemettes, she has helped open up STEM to girls, young women and others who might not always see themselves represented in these fields.

 

Her story is not only about personal achievement. It is also about opportunity, representation and making sure the next generation can see a place for themselves in the industries shaping our future. Through education, advocacy and the communities she has built around STEM, Anne-Marie has helped turn possibility into something practical and visible.

As part of Honouring Black Britain 2026, we spoke to Anne-Marie about curiosity, confidence, community, representation and what lasting change in technology really looks like.

You entered the world of STEM at a very young age. Looking back, what shaped your confidence and curiosity?

My confidence and curiosity were shaped by my parents’ willingness to indulge my curiosity. I was allowed to use my dad’s computer, which he was supposed to use for research, to type out Little Red Riding Hood. I also infamously broke the VCR player because I wanted to see what was inside a VHS tape. 

My curiosity was really encouraged in that way. 

In terms of confidence, I think there are elements of being the oldest child. But more than that, I don’t think I have particularly high or low self-esteem—I just have esteem. 

There is an assumption that I was confident in doing those things, but it was more that I was willing to give things a go. It wasn’t about being overconfident; it was the absence of fear. If something worked, great. If it didn’t, it didn’t. 

When things did work, that naturally gave me more confidence going into the next challenge. 

As for my confidence being tested, I do not really remember that being a defining part of my childhood. I tended to manage my own expectations before starting something, so setbacks did not really knock my confidence. 

“It wasn’t about being overconfident; it was the absence of fear.” 

Who helped shape your sense of what was possible in STEM?

I did internships and joined programmes like the Windsor Fellowship, which allowed me to see that these careers and jobs actually existed. That influenced my path because I could finally see what people were doing in all these offices I had been aware of. 

In terms of technology itself, people like Tim Berners-Lee were visible influences. I also remember reading an American tech magazine featuring women entrepreneurs and thinking, “I’m a little bit like them. That’s something I could do.” 

More than anything, though, my engagement with STEM came from loving maths and computer science rather than knowing there was a career attached to them. 

It was not until I was around 13, when we had careers advice at school, that I discovered roles like systems analyst and management consultant. I initially pursued management consulting because it sounded interesting, and through work experience I realised I could be a management consultant for tech companies. 

I often say that I started Stemettes, but I got into the industry without having had Stemettes myself. 

For some people, “If you can see it, you can be it” is absolutely true. For others, they do not even know the career exists until much later. I certainly did not always know STEM was something I could pursue professionally. 

Through Stemettes, you have supported thousands of young people. When did you realise the significance of what you were building?

The first significant moment came after we started Stemettes in February 2013. By December that year, I was invited to a meeting at Number 10 with Michael Gove, who was Education Secretary at the time, and David Willetts, who was Universities Minister. 

I had not started Stemettes fully understanding the scale of the problem, but within 11 months I was sitting at the heart of government discussing it. That was the moment I realised, “Wow, this is a big deal.” 

The second moment was receiving the letter about my MBE. You associate MBEs with people who have worked on something significant for many years, so it was meaningful that the work had already been recognised. 

But the work continues because there is still much to do. 

Much has been said about widening access to STEM, but perhaps less has actually been done. There are still many people being left out, whether across gender, class or ethnicity. 

It is not just about entering STEM. Remaining in STEM often becomes untenable because the environment can be so hostile. 

We see this across academia, industry and entrepreneurship. Around 2% of venture funding goes to female-led businesses. Only around 22% of people working in AI are women. We see gaps between engineering students and those who actually enter engineering careers. 

The reason people are still being left out is because systems continue to do what they have always done. If you do what you have always done, you will get what you have always got. 

We do not consistently value talent in all its forms. Talent is evenly distributed; opportunity is not. 

“Talent is evenly distributed; opportunity is not.” 

This year’s theme is “Honouring Our Communities”. What does community mean to you?

Community is people. It is connection, understanding, sharing, the ups and the downs. 

Community has shaped my work because there is only so much you know or experience as an individual. It is when you connect those experiences with other people that they become meaningful. 

Until you know someone else is experiencing the same things, it is hard to understand what needs to change at a systemic level, within institutions or across communities. 

Community continues to shape my work by refining what our impact needs to be, what programmes should look like, what policies are needed, and what messages need to reach people who are not already connected to these communities. 

Whether that is listening to young people through Stemettes, shaping advocacy work, or working with government to ensure community voices are represented in discussions around digital ID or the future of the UK’s technology industry, community remains central. 

For me, honouring your community means being in service to it and doing your duty to help it thrive. 

What does meaningful representation look like in practice?

Representation is the first step. 

Meaningful representation is when people genuinely have a sense of belonging and organisations operate equitably. It is not just about having different people in the room. It is about those people being reflected in policies, decision-making, ways of working, and how people enter and leave organisations. 

A few years ago, we worked with the Institute of Education on youth equity and developed an Equity Compass, which I would recommend people look at. 

For me, meaningful representation enables organisations to move towards equitable practice—doing things with people rather than to them or for them, thinking about long-term change as well as short-term outcomes. 

Meaningful representation changes the nature of what an organisation does and what its norms become. That is what I have been working towards throughout the 13 years of running Stemettes. 

Real change happens across systems. It depends on the nature, scale and timescale of the change you are trying to achieve. The issue of women in tech is not one problem; it is many interconnected problems requiring different solutions. 

You can make significant short-term changes within your own organisation. But if you are aiming for long-term, systemic change, then institutions have to be part of the solution. 

What would lasting change in STEM look like?

Lasting change would mean technology genuinely solving more problems than it creates. It would mean different kinds of people being better enabled and better supported by the products, services and systems that exist. 

It would also mean better representation across every part of the sector. It would mean pay equity, greater flexibility, and workplaces where people can take time out when they need to. 

Ultimately, when someone asks, “What does an engineer look like?”, the answer should simply be: “What does a human look like?”