In this edition of Channel Women in Security, we sat down with Ginger Chien — retired patent engineer, trans advocate, and rock musician — to explore her legacy at AT&T, the evolution of cybersecurity, and why engineering is ultimately a service to humanity.
Listen to the full interview on YouTube (above), Spotify, and Apple Podcasts.
You’ve recently retired from a long, impressive career at AT&T. When you look back, what are you most proud of?
The thing I’m most proud of, though I wouldn’t have said this early in my career, is my representation. Being a trans woman of color in tech is still uncommon, especially when those identities intersect. I didn’t realize how impactful it was until people started sharing how my presence allowed them to imagine new possibilities for themselves. That authenticity created space for others. Yes, I contributed to patents, standards, and innovation. But the legacy I value most is showing up fully and letting others do the same.
You’ve had a multifaceted path in engineering, storytelling, advocacy, and music. How has that blend shaped your approach to innovation?
When I started out, I was following a path defined by cultural expectations: get a good job, don’t make waves, stay secure. But as I matured, I began asking deeper questions. What am I building? What impact do I leave?
Engineering, at its best, is in service to humanity. Whether I was tinkering with hovercrafts as a kid or working on smartphone protocols, my curiosity was always about solving problems that help people. That mindset, combined with advocacy and creativity, allowed me to innovate not just in tech but in how we build spaces where people feel safe to show up fully.
In your time at AT&T, how did the cybersecurity landscape shift? And what should the next generation be preparing for?
The stakes are higher now. In the analog days, risk was local. Reputation, trust, damage—these could be repaired in person. Now, a single breach can be life-altering, and it’s often invisible until it’s too late.
We need to think beyond binary authentication systems. Zero trust is a start, but I believe we need federated trust networks, similar to the redundant systems used in space shuttles where multiple nodes vote on next steps. That kind of resilience could reshape how we think about digital security. It’s not just about protecting systems. It’s about preserving humanity.
That’s a powerful insight. So, what story do you think cybersecurity still needs to tell better, and who’s missing from that story?
We’re still telling a story that treats users as monolithic. But humanity is a rich, complex tapestry. Just like early medical data failed women and people of color by being based almost entirely on men, our cybersecurity strategies often fail to serve everyone.
If we say we’re optimizing systems, we can’t ignore the diversity of the humans in those systems. Inclusion isn’t just a feel-good idea. It’s an engineering imperative. Until we account for the full range of human needs, we’re not truly secure.
Last one. What brings you joy these days, and where can people find you?
I play in an 80s cover band called The Nasty Habits. We’re mostly trans, totally squeaky clean, and seriously fun. When we perform, it’s the toddlers who dance first, unbothered by judgment. Then the parents join in, then the elders. That’s what authenticity looks like when it’s supported—contagious joy.
You can find our music at thenastyhabits.com, just maybe not on your work computer.
Follow Chien’s journey and reflections on authenticity, engineering, and storytelling. Stay tuned for more episodes of Channel Women in Security.
