Permission to be here

One thing that surprised me about the change from grad student to professor is how shy I felt about doing "faculty" things. Checking my department mailbox. Using the copier. Going to meetings.

When I was in high school, I once knocked on the door of the faculty break room during lunch hour, in search of a teacher. Nobody shooed me away, but there was still the feeling that students were verboten from the break room. (And why not? Some of those teachers seriously needed a break from students, if only for a few minutes.)

The first time I went into the Briggs break room I had the same feeling. Like I'd trespassed in Grown-up Land. Except I'm a grown-up too. And I'm a professor too. And I'm totally allowed—even expected—to be there.

I consider how I would feel if there were no other women, or if I were some other minority in the department, or if my college and colleagues were not so supportive. This is how many people do feel, and it's not just in their heads—many workplaces are not welcoming and inviting, people are made to feel uncomfortable and othered. I am lucky that most of what I face is internal. Nobody's actively pushing me out. In fact, they keep welcoming me and encouraging me. They want me to succeed.

I realized I was asking everyone around me for permission to be there, and that was undermining my confidence. I don't need anyone's permission to do my job. I'm the real deal, not an impostor.

Like the spy movie cliché, people tend to assume you belong and you know where you're going. You just have to act like it. Do it long enough, and you might just fool yourself.

So when I feel uncertain now, I just act. I pretend confidence, and the confidence becomes real.

The chemistry Nobel should go to a woman

It's Nobel Prize season, and everyone has their picks for which chemists might get a phone call from Sweden. All the names I've seen are of accomplished people who've done excellent, influential work. There's a problem with all these lists, though: I haven't seen a single woman on any of them. Not a damn one.¹ Also notable: a general lack of brown/black people of either gender. What gives? Chemistry is not solely the domain of white and Asian men.

Folks on Twittter have been passing around the Slate article about the 50-year drought of female laureates in physics, but I think it's worth noting that the story is hardly any better in chemistry. I counted four women among the chemistry Nobel laureates: Marie Curie (1911), Irene Joliot-Curie (1935), Dorothy Hodgkin (1964), and Ada Yonath (2009). Did I miss any? I really hope so. Four is a pitiful number.

Are women really not doing Nobel-worthy work? Or do we not recognize their work with the same prestige?

Do we only recognize the super-women? Those who aren't just better, but leagues better, like Curie and Goeppert-Mayer?

When we speak of scientists, do we remember to count the women? Or do they become faceless and forgotten? Do we even listen when they speak?

So, with a few more hours to go, can we think of a few women who should be on the Nobel shortlist?

Update: I missed C&EN's list, but it also doesn't have any women. Still bummed.

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1: Admittedly, I didn't check the much longer list of previous predictions from Everyday Science. I may have overlooked somebody.

Hire me

I love working at Lyman Briggs, but the job I have is a temporary one. I’m only here for a year. The academic job market has a particular annual cycle, and right now it’s application time for tenure-track positions. This means that though I will be happily teaching chemistry at Briggs from now until May (and possibly into the summer), I have to look for next fall’s job now.

I don’t like applying for stuff. I don’t like selling myself. I worry that nobody will want me, that nobody likes what I do, that I’m not good enough, experienced enough, polished enough to get the job I want. I worry that I’ll be passed over because of my gender, my opinions, my beliefs, my appearance or my personality. I worry that the search for the next job will be a hindrance to the job I am currently doing.

But.

When I can drive the poison of Impostor Syndrome from my addled brain, I remember that I’m actually a competent, qualified instructor with a passion for teaching. I’m an expert in my field, with the publications and fancy diploma to prove it. I am capable and talented and enthusiastic. I have a deep desire to ask and answer scientific questions. I have the potential not just to succeed, but to thrive.

So if you’re at a liberal arts college or regional university and you have an open position in chemistry to fill for next fall, I hope you’ll consider me when my application crosses your desk.