Dr. Shellie

In my "real" life, I increasingly find myself in a position to give my opinion on issues surrounding women and science. This scares me. For as much as I have thought about the matter, I am never sure what it is safe to say. Suppose that you were in a room with three senior, white male professors in your field, ones who were variously former presidents of your professional society, chairs of your department, and members of the National Academy. Would you really want to describe to them how many of the women you know in science have problems with lack of confidence? Or describe how the drop in women’s fertility at age 35 makes it almost impossible to wait until after tenure to have a baby? Inevitably, the question follows: "So, is that a problem for you?" Say "yes," and you are taking a big risk, hoping that they will not interpret what are really systemic problems as something that is wrong with you and your commitment to science– possibly impacting upon your career.

I am using this blog to work out what I am willing to say, to whom, and how. While I write under a pseudonym, the opinions I express in my posts often come up later in real conversation. Having worked out already what I believe, it is much easier to take a stand– and it turns out that most of my opinions aren’t terribly controversial after all.

One of the categories on this blog is "Socially-useful science and technology." So far, this category has gotten short shrift. I have mostly used it to talk about socially useful psychology, in particular work that impacts on gender issues in the sciences. In part, this is due to the giant backlog of women-in-science stories in my head that wanted to get out– see for example "boiled frog." But as I head into this fall’s application and hiring cycle, I’m hoping to give give the question of how science and technology impact society more serious thought, and to figure out where I want to be on the basic science v. applied science continuum.

Seated to my right, in the aisle seat, was a 50-ish year old man with what I thought was a British accent. He looked with some interest at the journal article I was reading. "Are you a scientist?" he asked. "What do you study?" I tried to give him the brief and interesting version, but he looked a little bored. "How long have you been studying that?" he asked.

"Hmm… over 12 years, if you include undergrad," I answered.

"My daughter just finished her medical training and is getting a real job," he said. "We’re very proud of her." (I tried to explain how a postdoc is a real job–we get paid– but he wasn’t buying it.) After telling me where his kids went to school, we got into a discussion of the US educational system and culture in general.

As it turns out, he was not from the UK. He and his wife, both Afrikaaners (Dutch-speaking, white South Africans) had immigrated here over 20 years ago, at the beginning of the South African race riots. Proudly he pointed out his US citizenship and praised the American way of life. "My kids have done great here," he said. "The US system is fantastic. You go to college, get your degree, and you can get the entire package– they have jobs, own a home, and have a nice life. This is really the best country on earth. Look at it. Everything works. You came to the airport today, you went through security, you got on the plane– the plane flies. It’s not broken. It’ll get you to your destination. The last time we went to South Africa, we flew in early in the morning, and the customs staff just wasn’t there. We walked into the country without showing anyone our passports. It was too early in the morning, and they just hadn’t bothered to show up for work."

He went on to say that FIFA was crazy– "they think they’re going to have the World Cup there in 4 years? With the crime in South Africa? All the fans will get carjacked, mugged, or killed."

But most interesting was his perspective on Mexican and Latin American immigration, a mix of conservative and progressive strains. "Something has to be done," he said. "They’re flooding the schools where we live in Arizona. And by law, you can’t turn them away." I asked what he thought about the proposal to build a fence on the border, as well as Bush’s guest worker program. He was in full support of both. "I hire Mexicans to work for me in my landscaping business," he said. "I’ve tried hiring white Americans, but let’s face it, it’s hot outside. They can’t take it. And anyway, for an American to be in the situation where he wants to that kind of work, something must have gone very wrong– either he’s a felon, or mentally unstable, or alcoholic. Mexicans work hard. And let me tell you, their kids learn English, and are going to grow up to be successful. They aren’t going to be working for someone like me. And that’s fantastic– that’s the American Dream!"

In the airplane, the older man seated next to me was reading a copy of the New Yorker and looking out the window from time to time. "It always surprises me," he said, "that with all the uncultivatable land down there, there is no oil." 

Later, he overheard me talking to the man on the other side of me about Africa. "What is it about Africa, that they never managed to figure things out over there?" he said. "Is it a tribal thing?"

Those are two big questions for the skies over Utah. To the first, I said: not the right kind of rock. To the second: uh, which country? African countries are very different from one another… and then was left silent when the two men started talking to each other about how the "black [African] psyche treats women as chattel." 

An assortment of amusing comments on being female, from my recent conference. See also Woman Science Professor’s phrasebook post!

Said by an illustrious, older male in my field to me:

"Isn’t it funny that you and [Famous Woman Professor also at the conference] would choose to wear almost exactly the same shirt today?"

Her shirt was vertically striped in magenta, grey, and blue. My shirt was vertically striped in pink, white and black. His shirt was vertically striped in pink, blue, and white. I laughingly pointed out that they all looked roughly alike– though no more than any other striped shirt!

Said by a conference attendee, after my microphone acted screechy during my talk (interference with another microphone, it turns out):

"You’ll have to take lessons from those girls that sing…" (the national anthem at football games???? I don’t know. He didn’t finish)

I said, "Or from you, if you know how to use the microphone correctly!"

And said by a middle-aged professor in my field, at the end of the conference– he had read my papers but not remembered meeting me in person:

"It was nice to get to know you better. It took me a while to figure out that this [Dr. Shellie’s Last Name] person was a woman!"

It is a common myth among grad students that people Out There know your name. There is no better way to explode that myth than to go to a research conference.

No sooner than you have sat down, you notice that the guy next to you has written Recent Important Paper in your field, and moreover that his paper even cited yours! Enthusiastically you introduce yourself.

"Hi, I’m So-and-So."

Famous Guy* stares at you blankly, then stares at your name tag.

"You’re at University X," he says, reading it from the tag. "And you work with…?"

"Professor X," you say.

"AAAH, yes. Professor X. And which project do you work on?"

"Well, uh, I work on such-and-such which is related to your recent paper on such-and-such."

"Ah, yes," he nods. "I suppose your name looks familiar."

In (my part of) the world of science, most papers are viewed as the work of the professor in whose group they are done. In part, this is because the problems are usually formulated by the professors. The work is technical enough that a grad student can’t even hope to find an original problem to solve on his or her own, but must depend on the professor to point one out. And out there in the scientific community, no one really remembers the grad students’ names– not until they grow up and become professors themselves. If you want to break the rule, you have to be VERY outgoing at conferences.

*I could say FamousWoman, but they are in short supply at the conferences I attend.