Where is the encouragement needed?
Oct. 8th, 2013 03:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So, I wrote a few posts back about some of the emotional components of the job application process. Shortly thereafter, the New York Times Magazine published a lengthy article about the continued gender gap in the sciences. Versions of this article are appearing on a regular basis these days, which is both heartening and disheartening: there's recognition that there's still a gender divide in the sciences, we know many of the causes, and yet we still lack a good, clear, widespread strategy for addressing the gender divide.
As the NYT article points out, we need to use more than just anecdotal evidence to change a systemic problem. And yet, this is a change that requires action on a personal level - direct encouragement of young scientists by their higher-ups.
Here's the story of things that have been lifelines for me.
1. Going to an all-girls high school. In an all-girls high school, the girls cannot sit back and let ambitious boys run everything. My AP Physics class contained half of the women in Washington State who took the AP exam; there were eleven of us, and nobody told us we couldn't do physics (that seems to be a statement out of a different era). HNA provided an atmosphere where we were all encouraged to be at the top. I think all-girls schools wind up being way more important than all-boys schools because so much of the rest of society is already implicitly centered around males (male power structures).
2. Working with supporting undergraduate research mentors. Two stories here:
I spent three years doing research in Psychology at my undergraduate institution, under an abusive male supervisor. I went home in tears on more than one occasion, despite putting in a tremendous amount of effort into work in the lab, and had to have a serious meeting with the department chair about some of the ridiculousness. It was one of those cases of a person who knew how to skirt the line between appropriate/inappropriate, so he could never be called out on things, but could make life pretty miserable. When I got ready to apply for graduate school and decided I wanted to apply for an NSF predoctoral fellowship, I was told, "You're never going to get one. Don't bother applying." When I decided I wanted to study animal behavior instead of psychopharmacology, the reaction was, "Pfuh!" (which is to say, if what you're doing next isn't exactly the same as what you're doing now, it's going to be useless!)
I spent one undergrad summer working at the Joslin Diabetes Institute. I got an internship through my high school; my professor/research mentor was an alum of my high school, and accepted me into the program by way of a simple phone interview - a pretty big leap of faith. In that lab, everyone helped out everybody else, and the whole lab benefited. I distinctly remember my research mentor turning to me at one point and saying, "I think you should consider earning a Ph.D." That one moment made me decide to apply for graduate school.
3. Finding supportive graduate mentors. Graduate school involves learning how to create an environment for oneself that allows one to thrive. This isn't an accidental process, unless a person is insanely lucky; it takes reflection and action. There were points in my graduate career where my advisor was an absentee advisor, for many reasons. It was good for me to have to consciously say to myself, "How am I going to go out and ask for help to get things done?" Many informal connections in grad school - friendships with other faculty members and graduate students - were critical to my graduation.
4. Support in postdoc/faculty transitions. A single line uttered by one of my graduate committee members has stuck in my head and resonated. He said, quite simply, "I think the big difference for a lot of women scientists is a lack of confidence." When I think about this line, I think - I have to have faith in myself, that I can keep going, that I can do good science and make good contributions to my field. Confidence is an internalized source of encouragement.
I can tell that my support system here in Texas is weaker than the support system in Arizona. There isn't a chapter of the Association of Women in Science at this institution; really, this institution is about 10 years behind the times, culturally. Overall, that weakness is still inherent to most postdoctoral positions; the postdoc is separated from the system that created her and must stand on her own two feet and navigate the academic world independently. My supervisor mostly leaves me to my own devices, and is as supportive as he can be. But I most strongly feel the positive effects of the unequivocal support I receive from my co-advisor at UNL. I'm kind of amazed, actually, at how good he is at respecting young scientists and just emanating a sense of support. That doesn't mean he makes things easy or cuts anybody any slack; he's just excited to see people do good science, and makes it clear that he's invested in helping others succeed in whatever capacity they wish to succeed.
5. Family support. Let's just point out I got very lucky on this front. My family is academically-oriented, so my parents have always been supportive of their childrens' efforts to further their education. Additionally, my older brother has provided what support he can.
Sometimes, when a person is fumbling around in the dark, even the flicker of light from a match can make a big difference.
As the NYT article points out, we need to use more than just anecdotal evidence to change a systemic problem. And yet, this is a change that requires action on a personal level - direct encouragement of young scientists by their higher-ups.
Here's the story of things that have been lifelines for me.
1. Going to an all-girls high school. In an all-girls high school, the girls cannot sit back and let ambitious boys run everything. My AP Physics class contained half of the women in Washington State who took the AP exam; there were eleven of us, and nobody told us we couldn't do physics (that seems to be a statement out of a different era). HNA provided an atmosphere where we were all encouraged to be at the top. I think all-girls schools wind up being way more important than all-boys schools because so much of the rest of society is already implicitly centered around males (male power structures).
2. Working with supporting undergraduate research mentors. Two stories here:
I spent three years doing research in Psychology at my undergraduate institution, under an abusive male supervisor. I went home in tears on more than one occasion, despite putting in a tremendous amount of effort into work in the lab, and had to have a serious meeting with the department chair about some of the ridiculousness. It was one of those cases of a person who knew how to skirt the line between appropriate/inappropriate, so he could never be called out on things, but could make life pretty miserable. When I got ready to apply for graduate school and decided I wanted to apply for an NSF predoctoral fellowship, I was told, "You're never going to get one. Don't bother applying." When I decided I wanted to study animal behavior instead of psychopharmacology, the reaction was, "Pfuh!" (which is to say, if what you're doing next isn't exactly the same as what you're doing now, it's going to be useless!)
I spent one undergrad summer working at the Joslin Diabetes Institute. I got an internship through my high school; my professor/research mentor was an alum of my high school, and accepted me into the program by way of a simple phone interview - a pretty big leap of faith. In that lab, everyone helped out everybody else, and the whole lab benefited. I distinctly remember my research mentor turning to me at one point and saying, "I think you should consider earning a Ph.D." That one moment made me decide to apply for graduate school.
3. Finding supportive graduate mentors. Graduate school involves learning how to create an environment for oneself that allows one to thrive. This isn't an accidental process, unless a person is insanely lucky; it takes reflection and action. There were points in my graduate career where my advisor was an absentee advisor, for many reasons. It was good for me to have to consciously say to myself, "How am I going to go out and ask for help to get things done?" Many informal connections in grad school - friendships with other faculty members and graduate students - were critical to my graduation.
4. Support in postdoc/faculty transitions. A single line uttered by one of my graduate committee members has stuck in my head and resonated. He said, quite simply, "I think the big difference for a lot of women scientists is a lack of confidence." When I think about this line, I think - I have to have faith in myself, that I can keep going, that I can do good science and make good contributions to my field. Confidence is an internalized source of encouragement.
I can tell that my support system here in Texas is weaker than the support system in Arizona. There isn't a chapter of the Association of Women in Science at this institution; really, this institution is about 10 years behind the times, culturally. Overall, that weakness is still inherent to most postdoctoral positions; the postdoc is separated from the system that created her and must stand on her own two feet and navigate the academic world independently. My supervisor mostly leaves me to my own devices, and is as supportive as he can be. But I most strongly feel the positive effects of the unequivocal support I receive from my co-advisor at UNL. I'm kind of amazed, actually, at how good he is at respecting young scientists and just emanating a sense of support. That doesn't mean he makes things easy or cuts anybody any slack; he's just excited to see people do good science, and makes it clear that he's invested in helping others succeed in whatever capacity they wish to succeed.
5. Family support. Let's just point out I got very lucky on this front. My family is academically-oriented, so my parents have always been supportive of their childrens' efforts to further their education. Additionally, my older brother has provided what support he can.
Sometimes, when a person is fumbling around in the dark, even the flicker of light from a match can make a big difference.
no subject
Date: 2013-10-08 09:04 pm (UTC)I keep running across this in a lot of articles and from things I have heard from other women who work in the sciences. It is such a strong aspect of cultural conditioning. Women tend to down-play their work/abilities so it doesn't make for a natural inclination toward thinking, "yeah I am pretty awesome. I should totally do this." (obviously this applies to A LOT of other environments, but seems pretty heavy in the scientific/academic community.)
It says a great deal that a man on the graduate community noticed this and articulated it so clearly.
no subject
Date: 2013-10-08 11:07 pm (UTC)It was interesting when I started rewriting my materials for job applications. I had a brief chat with my brother towards the beginning about some of the major metrics - numbers of publications and such - and had a depressing moment where I wondered whether I would ever be able to catch up with him (I've got 9 papers compared to his 20; he's 2 years ahead of me, but there's no way I could write/publish 11 papers in a year; plus, many of his papers are in splashy-dashy, high-profile journals).
But then I thought, no. My publications reflect completely different things, in different fields. I still believe in my teaching philosophy, and I have mentored WAY more students than he has. My work is just as important and substantive, even if it isn't as flashy as hummingbirds. Also, I suspect that I will fit in better in a different institution type than my brother; an institution with slightly lower obsession with fame, but still excellent science.
There was a point where my brother remarked that he could see me being happy at a teaching-focused institution, and that was kind of crushing because it rocked me back to, maybe I'm not good enough to keep doing research. But the more I think about it, no. I AM good enough, I LOVE research, and I'll be a great asset to wherever I wind up working, not just because of my science but also because of how I work with other people. And I want to continue making substantive scientific contributions because there are interesting things to explore in my field!
All I need to do now is make the job happen.
no subject
Date: 2013-10-09 02:12 am (UTC)