There is so much talk of the leaky pipeline, and discussion about how to plug up the hole to keep more women in science for longer. We drop like flies after the PhD.
There have been some excellent ideas for tackling this problem (see links above, for instance), but I have thoughts to add on things that would (maybe) help me avoid leaking out to work at Starbucks, or being a full-time mom until my kid goes to school and I’m too disconnected to re-enter the workforce. I hope this doesn’t come across as a whiny rant; my intention is really to detail the mechanistic problems that I am personally facing following my dream.
The common thread that ties all of these ideas together is that as an adult, particularly an adult with a kid (or more than one!), life requires money. This thoughtful blog post points out some major issues why (marine) science lacks diversity: life as a scientist apparently requires sacrifices of both money and time. When I was younger, it wasn’t as big of a deal for me to work for minimum wage, or even volunteer, to gain experience in science.
|I have a lot of experience doing this, and I like it. I have less experience being a barista, or a parking lot attendant, but I'm still allowed to apply for those jobs, if I want to.|
But now life is expensive. Housing, transportation, food, and – most painful of all – good childcare consumes all available funds we may have, leaving my ability to pay someone to care for my child while I work for free, much less my ability to pay out of pocket to attend conferences totally impossible. Yet if I want to remain in science, these are the things that (I believe, perhaps I’m incorrect?) are necessary – I have to keep publishing, and I would sure like to remain alive and kicking in the face-to-face conference-networking arena – but how can I possibly justify either of these things when I’m currently working part-time as an adjunct and part-time as a mom (and part-time as a renovations contractor on my house—but that’s a different story)?
So, what are my ideas to help combat this?
1. Don’t place limits on time-since PhD in job advertisements
Since graduating, I’ve taken 9 months “off” for family obligations. During these times, I was not being paid yet continued to work as much as I could on publications, data analysis, and writing a book, while taking care of my family. I’ve also had, up to now, about 9 months of partial employment during which I have continued to do research in my (not very abundant) free time because I care about it, and because I very much want to remain competitive for “real” science jobs. But, all up I’ve been a PhD-holder for about 4.5 years, and can no longer apply to a host a job opportunities I’ve seen because I’m too “advanced” in my career.
But why? If I really want to do another post-doc because it is housed in a lab that does work I love, and it would allow me to continue doing research during more than 1-2 hour nap-time blocks each day, and I’d be a good fit for the position, why does it really matter when I graduated?
2. Let us apply for funds to attend conferences, and give us the student/high school teacher rates
Plenty of conferences set aside funds to bring students, high school science teachers or researchers from less-developed countries in who otherwise couldn’t afford it. This is wonderful. But I am currently much less able to pay to attend a conference than I was as a student, because:
(a) the registration fees are higher
(b) I have to do something with my kid – pay to bring him along, or pay for extra childcare the week I’m away, or pay to fly him to his grandparents’ for the week, etc. (The key word is pay)
(c) There is no graduate or development office from which to beg for money to fund my conference attendance
3. Offer good, afforable childcare at conferences
When I was breastfeeding, I attended two conferences with my son in tow. At that point it was cheaper (no cost on the domestic flights) and physically easier (no pumping and desperately missing him) to bring him along than to place him in full-time childcare at home. At the more-important (more relevant to my field) conference, there was no childcare at the convention center, and all childcare places in the town that I called were booked solid. So we paid out of pocket and my husband took days off work he could come with me to care for the babe for half the day and work remotely for half the day, and I took the kid with me to half the day’s sessions. Sucky.
|Yes, that is 6-week-old Ryder in an ergo as I present two posters and answer emails during a week-long pause in my maternity leave to attend AGU. I look somewhat less approachable than the lady on the left (Photo by Rachel Borgatti)|
4. Let us apply for money from special pots
I know, this makes it seem like I think I am special, and shouldn’t have to compete with everyone else for money. But really, do you think that my proposal—written exclusively during naps and at 10 pm when I am also sleep deprived and half my days are spent doing brain-cell-destroying activities like explaining why the kid can’t have chocolate for breakfast—going to be as competitive as someone who gets to sit in a quiet office and spend time actually reading journal articles (what’s that?) and thinking about science (what a concept!)? I’m doing this as well, but I’m not holding my breath.
Several countries have recognized that we might need a little help, and I applaud them and am very jealous:
Swiss Federal Institutes of Technology Domain: http://www.fix-the-leaky-pipeline.ch/
The Wellcome Trust, career re-entry scheme, Europe: http://goo.gl.EQcUK9
Dorothy Hodgkin Fellowship for flexible work, UK: http://royalsociety.org/grants/schemes/dorothy-hodgkin/
5. Give us paid maternity leave
For a number of super obvious reasons (i.e. it’s really unhelpful to be evicted when you baby is 2 months old because you failed to pay the rent after taking your 6 weeks unpaid leave). Come on now.
Well, that’s all I have time for. What do you think of these ideas?