We have completed an initial period of testing, revising and re-testing of our interview schedules. The results are a medley of voices, women's and men's, students at the top of their classes and students struggling to persist, but already certain themes are beginning to emerge. There are no conclusions to be drawn, but meaningful glimpses of some of the attitudes which these young people bring with them to ' the study of post-secondary physics.

One of the points on which all the students seem to be agreed is that physics is a gateway subject to an elitist culture which they very much want to enter. It is seen as a "hard" subject, requiring "a lot of work," presenting "a real challenge" and imposing a kind of "discipline" or "structure" to the student's work habits. They are conscious that these are the very reasons why many students do not want to do physics, and they see this rejection as a failure of commitment to educational aspirations. Being able to fulfill these rigorous requirements is a virtue ("no pain no gain," said one young woman), and students talk about getting very positive feedback from both peers and parents for "working until you get it." This language is used indiscriminately by both males and females.

There are, however, some subtle differences between male and female descriptors of personal connections with this elitist culture. Without exception, the males we interviewed talked about hard work as an automatic door-opener: those who had not done well faulted themselves for not having worked hard enough, or, very occasionally, cited inappropriately high: or low standards of teachers. The female students talked about their choice of physics as "wondering whether I could do it" and their success as "Hey, I can do it too."

There is a sense among some of them that sometimes a person just "doesn't get it", despite great effort. These comments suggest that the girls feel a certain talent is required, an attitude the males tend not to reveal. The female comments also suggest, to us, a lesser degree of confidence if also a greater sense of realism. These young women talked about the adjusting their career goals if they didn't "make it in the sciences", whereas none of the males spoke about this possibility.

Not only did career goals among males appear to be stronger incentives to continue in physics, but so did general interest in the subject. When asked "Is physics connected to your life?" some of both the males and females talked about the way in which physics "explains things." But for the males, these "things" included concepts such as speed, magnetism, and gravity, whereas for the females it was just as likely to be the application of electricity or lasers to some specific technical process that they single out as interesting.

Some of the young women expressed a sense that chemistry and biology are "more connected to life": "why vinegar is acidic is more real to me than the speed of a car," said one young woman. Several of the females stated baldly that physics is "boring" and that they take it only because they "have to." All the males in our sample said they "like" physics. Early socialization seems to be responsible for this area of difference, and some of the young women openly acknowledged the fact.

One of the emerging realities that most concerns us is the way these young women describe their learning process within the context of the physics class. Their sense that the teacher is all-important (and that without teacher explanation learning physics is impossible) is no different from that of their male peers: all our post-secondary subjects have described their learning as extremely teacher-dependent. They are also in agreement that the immediate goal of their learning is to arrive at correct solutions and that this process is very competitive among the students. How they see themselves within this dependent, isolating, and competitive context is very problematical, however, for many of the girls.

Where the boys usually admit enjoying the competition, the girls either "don't mind it" or "don't like it." They tend to see them selves apart from this arena, saying "I'm not really like that." It is clear that students do consult each other occasionally when they have problems with their work. But some of the young women experiencing difficulty with the subject talked about the problem of finding someone "who knows enough to help you," as if many of the better students are unwilling or unable to share their expertise, and that there is no sense of collaborating with someone of their own level.

Indeed, the entire learning process is seen as so hierarchical that it is sometimes hard to learn even from the teacher because "he's on such a higher level." These female students envision teachers preferring to talk with students who are "on their level." Classroom discourse is, for them, divided between apparently teacher-pleasing exchanges with bright students who are invariably males, and teacher-exasperating exchanges with students like themselves.