Usually I don’t find it too sucky to be a Woman in Science™. This is the third in a series of 3 posts on why this week, it was a bit sucky.
When I started my PhD almost 4 years ago (oh dear lord please let me finish soon please) I didn’t anticipate that one of the most satisfying aspects would be the sense of community that came along with it. I suddenly became part of not only a formal multi-institutional academic centre, but also the broader analytical chemistry community in Australia. Conferences, events and meetings felt welcoming, convivial, egalitarian and I began to understand why academics were so obsessed with their academic genealogy. In many ways, it is like being part of a family. Sometimes better than your real family because they share your excitement about low limits of detection and when correlation coefficients are greater than 0.999.
So when I saw that one of our upcoming conferences was advertising a lineup of nine male keynote speakers I was pretty upset. Even amongst the invited speakers only one of the ten is a woman. And although each speaker is an accomplished and eminent scientist, the invited speaker list is certain to not reflect the diversity of the conference attendees. I thought my people knew better than this. There are many outstanding women in my field, particularly early career researchers, and the absolute worst thing about an all-male line up is the message that it sends to the ECRs. When we know that “you can’t be what you can’t see”, conference lineups like this all but shut the door in the faces of the younger women trying to establish themselves as independent scientists.
It’s easy to criticise gender imbalanced conferences when they are removed from you and when the organisers are strangers. When you know them personally, the politics and relationships makes everything a little more tricky. I also don’t feel like boycotting the conference is a viable option. It’s virtually impossible for me to attend conferences overseas, and the options locally are very limited. If I don’t go, I miss out and nobody will care that I’m not there and why. There are still many months until the conference, and I know I’m not the only one who is disappointed with the lineup so there is still time for changes to happen. But for now it is quite sucky.
Usually I don’t find it too sucky to be a Woman in Science™. This is the second in a series of 3 posts on why this week, it was a bit sucky.
My employer had a quasi-open day* thing, with senior staff delivering presentations and generally hanging about talking about science things and being quite visible. Turns out a lot (nearly all) of these senior staff are men. Something I obviously knew, but had slipped out of my consciousness somewhere along the way.
From the second I walked in the front gate, it was immediately obvious that it was more of a sausagefest than an Australian primary school on election day. And I’m no stranger to this type of workplace. I’m used to being in male-dominated environments. I’ve worked in 4 other science joints and 2 hardware shops for flips sake.
So anyway this place is next-level XY, but this post is not about that. This post is about how I was pretty dang surprised to feel so ashamed about the gender inequity situation and tell you what, that was a surprise and I did not expect that at all. I spoke with a lot of people and while I was proud to show them the cool stuff we’ve got and the interesting and useful science we do, I couldn’t escape the uneasiness I felt when we looked around and all we could see were Dudes in Suits.
I’m also used to people sometimes being critical of where I work for reasons other than diversity, and it can be hard to not be defensive about it. But when folks commented on the lack of diversity at the quasi-open day, I felt sad and helpless and embarrassed. Overwhelmingly I felt really embarrassed.
So I wondered, why did I feel this way? The inequity is not my fault! I don’t hire people, I have no influence on policies. I think I am genuinely doing what I can – being in diversity groups and committees, talking to people from peers to management about gender issues, trying hard to be a kick-arse doer of science who kicks arse while also having ovaries. I can’t think of a good reason why I should feel ashamed or in any way responsible for the lack of women representation but despite that I still did.
The next step for us is applying to the SAGE program and I do hope we are accepted, and that it genuinely improves representation and career paths for my current and future women colleagues. Because I do not want things to be sucky.
*”quasi-open day” because it was invite only so not really open and went for four days so also not really a day.
Usually I don’t find it too sucky to be a Woman in Science™. This is the first in a series of 3 posts on why this week, it was a bit sucky.
I was sufficiently peeved by this Grade A sexist bullshittery that I also wrote a letter to the editor. I received a prompt response and the online version of the article has had the offending sentence removed. I’m waiting with keen interest to receive a follow-up from the editor and to see what the official response from the RACI will be.
Since joining as an undergrad I’ve had a love/hate relationship with my professional society. At the grassroots level, I’ve found RACI run and sponsored events to be excellent learning and networking opportunities, and fulfilled many of my expectations of what being part of a learned society should be. I’ve made many connections and drunk many beers and had a generally grand time at most of them.
But after 12 years of membership, I’m seriously considering not renewing this year. This issue could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. While I’ve had many positive experiences with individual members, the organisation as a whole has never felt entirely welcoming to me. It’s always felt male and I’m a woman. It’s always felt old and I’m young(ish). It’s always felt ivory tower and I’m outside academia. And I no longer feel like I want to try be a part of it.
I’m struggling to think of any benefits in continuing to be a member of this organisation. The aspects of the RACI that I find valuable, the events and conferences, will continue to be accessible and affordable even if I cease my membership. But the aspects of the RACI that I find deplorable and disappointing show no signs of changing and I’m no longer convinced that I want to support it with my membership dollars.