While surreal politics both near and far may have ushered in a new era of feminist activism, women’s struggle for equality has long been a work in progress across all facets of life. The role of women in science, celebrated this week , is no exception, with women making up less than 30 per cent of researchers worldwide and still facing unequal pay, sexual harassment and more subtle forms of discrimination, as evidenced in a special issue of The Lancet this month. It gets even worse if you are a woman and a minority.
As a predominantly female research lab (15 women and 4 men) focused on issues of urban environmental justice and social equity, and co-led by a distinguished female researcher, we feel we have a lot to say when it comes to fighting for gender equality in science and academia in the way of our own personal experiences. We believe it is crucial to add our voices to the ongoing discussion of the gender gap in STEM in order to continue to raise awareness by calling out injustices, demanding a level playing field, and seeking recognition and support from our male counterparts.
Below, 10 of our female researchers share their own anecdotes of sexism both blatant and subtle over the years, as well as what it means to currently form part of a lab comprised of so many smart women within such a highly privileged institution and male-dominated sphere.
Isabelle Anguelovski
I have always felt frustrated by the structural and deeply-ingrained pressures to always do well, or even excel, on all fronts. It is what we are expected to do as women in academia in order to be valued, recognized, and visible and at the same time, always be present at home, where failure is not acceptable. This has felt particularly challenging because our research at BCNUEJ has tried to open new theoretical and methodological connections between fields and conduct reflective research at the intersection of urban environmental justice and urban development, which requires us to work outside traditional standards and expectations. We confront fields and practices that tend to be quantitatively driven (in terms of the number of published papers, methods, design) and male-dominated. I was once told that if I join a certain research institute as tenured faculty, I would have to “start publishing good research in relevant journal,” even after having received a prestigious ERC EU grant. This insidious, in-passing remark still shapes my “resistance” to this approach but also my self-esteem, still making me feel somewhat invisible and inferior despite having a consolidated research position. It conditions my obsession to prove that I am worthy.
Yet, I feel privileged because of the many opportunities I’ve received thanks to the achievements of other researchers in our lab. We care about processes—thoughtful research, writing, and compassion—which I feel very lucky for. In terms of research, I might be the “token woman” on panels, but I try to take full advantage of them by contributing my original scholarly or personal angle and also meeting young female scientists and practitioners. At the very least, I try to contribute to building new pathways and motivations for female researchers in academia, and make them also be part of this growing recognition and visibility.
Helen Cole
I transitioned to being an academic after years of working in a more administrative role in research project management, earning my doctorate degree while working full time. In meetings, often as the only woman, it was often assumed that I would take notes for the group, make sure the powerpoint was loaded properly, take care of the catering, or even that I should have reminded my male colleague who often forgot about meetings, insinuating that I was the reason for his absence not his own failure to do his job. Despite working with many great intellectuals who regularly show their ability to think outside of the box and who can easily discuss feminist theory from an intellectual standpoint, things are not that much different now on the academic side of things. I regularly feel disregarded by male colleagues, and doubt myself often wondering if it is more my own characteristics than my gender that make me seem less competent than my male colleagues. In specific instances of blatant sexism, I often wonder how it is best to respond so as to not be seen as the bitter female, so in the end I sometimes say nothing, which also makes it easier to be stepped over and perceived as invisible.
Working in a predominantly female group, I am largely protected from these experiences when working with my closest colleagues. Discussing our experiences within the patriarchal academic world is a great support and relief as we can help each other to brainstorm responses to these experiences, blow off steam by sharing our frustrations, and feel understood rather than ignored.
Margarita Triguero-Mas
A few years ago a male researcher was asking me work-related questions while looking at my breasts. It was summer, I was wearing a brown tank top and I felt completely uncomfortable. I wanted to stop the conversation and leave. But I felt powerless and stood there answering questions for about ten minutes. I also had a PhD interview once where I was told I was not allowed to have children during my PhD. It took me about two years to realize how inappropriate that comment was. Over the past three years I have felt frustrated, angry and disappointed that I have been asked to participate in certain activities because I was a “young female”. How much time and effort will it take before research can be valued independently of who performed it?
Moving to a predominantly female research group has given me the space to raise my ideas and concerns, where they are recognized and taken into account. Even if they are not the answers the project or the group is looking for, the group takes the time to understand my views and ideas and discuss them. I also feel highly informed and included in the group. We are all more aware of working with people and not just with “researchers.” We share experiences and encourage each other. That empowerment is a first step in changing the treatment of women in academia; realizing that we are not alone, that our feelings and sensations are validated, and making others aware of discriminatory practices and behaviors is a way forward.
Lucia Argüelles
As a female PhD student, I attend conferences and workshops where mostly men from the audience talk or ask questions. Men usually feel more entitled to express their opinion and show more self-confidence. At times I have felt regretful and doubtful of my abilities as a scientist for not intervening in public, know how important it is to assertively express my opinions. I know now that this pattern has a lot to do with gender issues.
Being at a female-majority lab has made conversations and discussions more humble, balanced and dynamic. I feel more comfortable giving my opinion or to asking questions. While more women are getting positions in academia, the sector has also become more precarious, and I am afraid this has to do with the feminization of the university. We need to be conscious of the multiple pressures we are facing and fight both sexism and precarity in the workplace.
Galia Shokry
I have had the privilege of working with men that have taken me seriously and treated me with equal dignity. But this has not always been the case. As a female student, senior male academics—sometimes younger than me—have talked over me and literally told me to speak less and smile more, all the while some young men go on in loud voices and confident tones without interruption. I think if I were a young male student speaking with confidence—rather than a younger-looking female student speaking with confidence—I would have a very different story to tell.
But the truth is that female academics have been disempowering and demeaning too. This is where I think that much like structural racism, having more women in leadership is only a step. Relationships, opportunities and interactions need to change so that traditional hierarchies, competitive attitudes, notions of authority and modes of decision-making in academia change too, taking on more of the egalitarian attitudes and practices that social scientists have tried to adopt toward research. It’s not enough to want it for everyone else! I am grateful to be a part of BCNUEJ because, here, we strive to do that work on both the inside and the outside. It takes time to cultivate and we learn with each step how to be more empathetic and supportive. I feel we are doing it conscientiously, and that matters a lot.
Fulvia Calcagni
Despite an initial resistance and skepticism towards feminism (yes, even as a woman) , I have realize how embedded I was in such a patriarchal system and how powerless I felt in coping with its inherent injustices and inequalities. Until recently, then, I had been blind and deaf to the forms of violence and power abuses that I have personally or indirectly experienced. During my school years, I can clearly recall my parents and (mostly female) professors distinguishing girls from boys with regards to school productivity, concentration and good manners, an attitude that has contributed to reinforce, legitimize and perpetuate such binary, uneven framing across generations. Similarly, I frequently witnessed alarming evidence of woman-as-commodity in the annoying comments directed at female professors or fellow students jugding their physical appearance rather than their competence or personality.
Now with so many fellow female researchers at BCNUEJ, I experience inclusion, collaboration and empathy and rather than competitiveness, superficiality and authority. I believe this transition, happening in many other contexts around the world, to be essential in addressing the drawbacks caused by a patriarchal, capitalist and individualistic system.
Panagiota Kotsila
As a young female lecturer I felt I was not being taken seriously because I was “too friendly.” When I tried to maintain formalities regarding homework and students obligations, I was considered intimidating and distant, although intelligent and knowledgeable. The university still seems to be a place where men call the shots, and this shapes behaviors and expectations. I have continuously observed male peers dominating discussions in colloquiums, seminars and conferences. I have heard comments about female academics who reach a high-ranking position being considered “lucky” while male peers with similar achievements simply considered “smart”. This leitmotif in discursive practices has made me feel belittled in my abilities, hesitant to apply for competitive positions or to express myself in an assertive manner in public spaces.
Being part of a predominantly female lab for the last three years has helped me progress as an academic, as I felt recognized and assisted by a supportive environment. I feel I belong to team rather than fighting alone. I believe we also need to defend a slower academia and a more diverse academic appreciation, where excellence is defined not only by productivity but also by work ethic, respect, and caring for others. We also need to start including more of the excellent work of female peers in teaching curriculums, citations, and collaborative projects.
Madeleine Wahlund
In the beginning of my training, I remember commenting on the large majority of men at the department of geography, to which one of my male professors responded that not enough women apply for positions, despite doing their best to “attract” more women. Figuring that things would be better at other universities, I completed my master at one of the more prestigious universities in Sweden, where gender was slightly more balanced and a there was a group of very hard-working female professors. Their lectures always seemed to be more well-prepared, structured and packed with information in relation to their male colleagues, some who could simply walk into the classroom, put their feet on the table and start a monologue about their own research. One time, one of my female professors experienced a tragedy in her family. None of her male colleagues stepped in to support her to fulfill the responsibilities of administering the course and as a result she was later transferred to another department. It is frustrating to see how male colleagues still fail to step up and take responsibility for their part in producing these conditions.
Sara Ullström
As women, we must often struggle more than our male peers to make our voices heard and our opinions valued. One example from my own experience is when I did fieldwork for a research project, and a man I interviewed suddenly asked me: “So, are you a paid researcher?” The question was completely out of context and I could not stop thinking about why he asked me that. I felt that he undermined my role within academia, for no reason at all. As women in academia we constantly face situations where we are not taken seriously, so it is not surprising that many of us spend a lot of time thinking about what is expected of us, often with the consequence of hesitating to speak out.
Marta Conde
A recent story that comes to mind is in the context of our participation in a European-funded project with the municipality of Barcelona. The project was mostly managed by men and so were its quantitative assessments. The qualitative assessment, by chance, was mostly managed by women. When we tried to push for certain aspects that were key for our research we got constant opposition. One day, after a steering meeting, I was cornered into a room with five men and was aggressively asked why I was pushing so much for that research. It was a horrible, unnecessary experience. Instead of leaving and asking for a new meeting with an established agenda, I broke into a sweat and stumbled my way through the questioning and lost some of the data for our research because of it. This experience has been starkly different from my last two jobs with the BCNUEJ and with an NGO where gender, equity and camaraderie are at the core of these projects. Another experience involved being pushed to give a talk in order to avoid an almost all-male panel. At the end our male colleague gave the talk but we discussed what had happened: in order to keep gender balance we had been discriminated. Whilst I agree that we have to give more opportunities to women and we have to ‘put ourselves out there more’; we also need to be aware of the consequences and limits of this emancipation.
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Whether it’s in academia or the broader field of science, even seemingly progressive, equitable departments or centers remain a profoundly unequal and inequitable playing field for female researchers. Attitudes, opportunities, and support systems need to change to ensure that the voices, contributions, and excellence of female scientists rises to the top of political, research, and civil society agendas. Through our own work and by sharing our experiences, we hope to contribute to that change.
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To learn more about our lab members, visit our About page.
This post was co-authored and edited by Ana Cañizares.
