Oh, nevermind me.

I have a couple of short stories to relate about men making me feel invisible.

1. My friend's husband who won't speak to me

Recently, we had dinner with a friend of mine, at her house. I like her a lot, but I had never met her husband. They are both here from Faraway country.

She had never said anything bad about her husband, just that he worked a lot.

I got the vague impression that maybe he should have helped more with the kids, but only because I wanted my friend to be able to go back to work. One thing she had mentioned specifically was needing more intellectual stimulation. But she felt she couldn't look for a job at all until they figured out their work visas (she assumed she had to get her work status through his application for a green card, rather than applying for a job and a visa on her own). And they needed to arrange for childcare.

So I had some trepidation about meeting the husband. I wasn't at all sure what to expect.

He wasn't there yet when we arrived. When he came in, he seemed nice enough, made eye contact and some small conversation.

I was relieved.
You really don't want to know if your friend is married to a jerk.

But pretty quickly it became clear that he wanted to talk to my boyfriend, not to me.

This was obvious to the point where he would ask a question, and I would have something to say when my boyfriend did not, but as I began to speak he would turn and look at my boyfriend and say something like, "You haven't?"

It was as if I wasn't even there.

Afterwards, my boyfriend commented that it was noticeable, even to him, that this guy was not comfortable talking to women, or something.

Or something, indeed.

It was all I could do to try to describe (I can't even come close to describing), what it is like to have to work with guys like that. Or interview with guys like that. Or network with guys like that. How many of them there are. What the consequences are for your career.

Afterwards, we talked a little about how we might hope that there are enough guys who are not like that, to tip the balance. How some of these guys don't realize they're doing it (but some do).

How it's hard to know what to do about it.

Hard for me, sure, but also very hard for my friend. No wonder she's nervous about trying to look for work.


2. The dismissive colleague

This is a particular example of something that has happened to me over, and over, and over, and over again.

The scene:

I'm working on something new, temporarily, with people I don't know. This might be a different lab or a different office than where I've worked previously. I have a specific set of tasks I need to accomplish. I do not have all the information I need. Someone says Dude is the guy to ask about this thing I need to do. 

Me: Hey, you've done Y before? Can you help me?

Dude: That depends, what do you need.

Me: Well I'm trying to do X, and I have a couple of ideas. I was thinking about doing Y or Z. Do you have any experience with these?

Dude: What? Why are you even asking about Z? Use Y. I don't even know what Z is.

Me: Um... Ok, thanks.



Later, someone else says: Hey, that Dude can give you Stuff to help you get started.

Me: I asked him already. He didn't give me anything.

Them: That's strange, he's done Y. He didn't give you Stuff? Why didn't he give you Stuff?

Me: I don't know. I didn't know that Stuff existed. He didn't mention it.




Later, after banging my head for a day or two, I try again. 

Me (to the Dude): Hey, I heard a rumor that you have Stuff related to Y, that maybe I could use?

Dude: Oh yeah, I have that. Why are you asking about that? What are you doing?

Me (for the second time): I'm doing X. That's why I was asking about Y.

Dude: Nobody told me you were doing that.


Um... I did. I told you. It was the first thing I said to you. 



I'll admit I didn't always ask the best, most specific question the first time, but at first I never knew what to ask. And Dude is usually the type who never volunteers any information.

Mostly I get annoyed at having to repeat myself, because invariably Dude didn't listen to me at all.

And it always turned out that my manager (this happened more than once, with different managers), who was supposed to have arranged things for me ahead of time, had not said anything to anyone about what I was doing or what I would need.

So when I showed up and started asking for Stuff, it was the first anyone had heard about it.

Be the Visible Bitch

Some comments on the last post got me thinking about this question of women being overlooked, sometimes figuratively and sometimes literally.

That and a couple of links from physorg.com about gender bias in hiring, specifically related to how women are perceived.

There was a question about how to get noticed. I can list some tactics here, but I'm sure there will be additional feedback in the comments.

1. Wear bright colors

It sounds trivial, but wearing bright colors suggests confidence and makes you more visible than dark or pale colors. Go ahead, wear solid red, orange, or magenta. Do something with your hair, if only because it makes YOU feel more confident when you look in the mirror. Being visible starts with your wanting to be seen.


2. Take up space

Yes, I'm talking about mannerisms here. Sit up or stand up tall, don't hunch your shoulders like a shrinking violet. Be the tall poppy. As tall as you can be.

Smile! And gesture widely (not wildly) when you talk. Don't sit on your hands, use them!

Lean in rather than backing away, make eye contact with everyone around, and raise your voice. Pointedly making eye contact will help you figure out if people are hearing you or not.

At a group meal, move quickly to get a good seat, then pull your chair up and make sure nobody crowds you out.


3. Go to the microphone

At meetings where questions are taken from standing microphones, GO THERE. Practice. You might be nervous every time you do it, but it does get easier. Your first questions might ramble a bit, but practice and you'll learn how to be succinct.


4. Argue

Don't be overly nice and or polite. When someone speaks over you, call them on it. Practice saying firmly and loudly, "Let me finish."

Yell if you have to. Practice belting out things like, "Hey! I'm sitting there! Get your own chair!"

If you still want to be liked, there are comical ways of doing this so that everyone appreciates that you're just sticking up for yourself, not taking it personally.


5. Sit front and center

Figure out where your eye is drawn in any room. This depends on the lighting, so pick somewhere bright, whether it's near a spotlight, or near a window. Figure out the eye-line of the speaker or professor, and make sure they can see you. Again, you'll be able to tell because they'll make eye contact, and might even speak to you just to be friendly. You might be surprised the first time this happens.


6. Introduce yourself

Even if it feels somewhat awkward or isn't usually done. Pretend you're from a place where people do this all the time, even if you're not.

Say, "Hello, I'm ___, " and shake hands. Come up with a harmless question to ask, whether it's about the meeting about to take place, or the weather, whatever.

Practice being outgoing with everyone, and it becomes second nature. Quite often when you do this, you'll find that whomever you meet is instantly put at ease, and actually feels relieved. You made THEM feel more welcome because you went out of your way to think of their needs (secretly, most people are shy with strangers, especially in science).

Yes, it takes a lot of energy. You will be nervous at first, and then tired. But hopefully you will meet some genuinely decent people if you make a point of putting yourself out there. And then it gets easier.

In every case, be prepared to be rebuffed. Don't take it personally, just shake it off. Sometimes people are grouchy (think House, MD). Whatever, that's not your problem. Try to be relentlessly cheerful no matter what. Ideally, try not to care what these people think of you. You'll make mistakes, you might put your foot in your mouth sometimes, but that actually happens more often when you're worrying about it.

They might call you a bitch. But they won't ignore you, either.

Now I know, I don't usually sound like this on this blog, but I can typically pull off this kind of good behavior when I put in the effort. And yes, they do call me a bitch. No amount of being friendly or supportive of my colleagues will ever make that go away. But it's (mostly) because I'd rather argue than be ignored, and I'm often (usually?) right when it comes to scientific arguments.

Nobody likes you when you're right all the time. Especially if you say it with a smile! ;-)

I'm rarely ignored unless I choose to be in hiding. And sure, I have had times when I just wanted to hide, and I am very good at being invisible when I want to be left alone.

If you want to hide, by all means, go ahead. Wear dark, baggy clothing, sit in the corner, don't speak to anyone. No one will see you or give you a hard time... unless they accidentally sit on you.

Witnessing idiocy

It seems to be part of human nature that we all think we're smarter than somebody else at least once in our lives.

Some of us feel that way all the time. Some will argue ceaselessly even when they're wrong.

Some days I feel particularly stubborn and irritated by stupidity.

One of the things that drives me nuts, especially common among academic types, are people who take things too literally or will argue over mechanics when they're missing the larger point I was trying to make. And they're not patient or open-minded enough to try to see where I was going, they just start nit-picking in a way that doesn't get anybody anywhere nearer to enlightenment.

Sometimes I get really frustrated at my own inability to communicate what I think, or just not being in the right position to say what I think at any given moment.

For example: replying to comments on my blog, not being able to come up with the right way to illustrate a concept in a persuasive way and being told I'm doing it all wrong, when that really wasn't the point in the first place

Or, seeing people stretching the wrong way at the gym. It drives me crazy knowing they're getting nothing out of it and will probably injure themselves, and here I could totally prevent that but it's not my job, I shouldn't butt in

Dealing with stupid self-checkout at the grocery store that is designed really poorly and doesn't work very well or make any sense. Wondering if I'm taking it all too literally. But then seeing that not only am I frustrated, but also overhearing the guy next to me asking the supervising cashier perfectly reasonable questions about things we've seen real cashiers do at their stations but the machines won't let us do at the self-checkout station

Getting home and realizing I forgot something I needed at the grocery store

Isn't it funny how some of us are expected to remind everybody else of everything they're supposed to do, but nobody reminds us? And I'm probably only that way because my mother always reminded me of everything and it drove me nuts when I was growing up, but now I do it and people take it for granted that I'll be the reminder? The rememberer? So if I actually do forget something, they assume it's deliberate and I'm mad at them?

I don't really want to remember everything all the time. I really don't.

Some days I can't stand even witnessing personal conflict from afar, like watching friends ranting on Facebook and realizing that while they have a point, the person they're mad at might be crazy or uncomprehending and I just feel so bad for how hurt they are but there's nothing I can do. And knowing at the same time that ranting on Facebook isn't going to help their case at all, but I can't say that, I shouldn't butt in

One of the things I hated most about being a postdoc was watching people fuck things up on a daily basis, but knowing they didn't want my advice and wouldn't follow my protocols even when they asked me for them

And yet, it seems to be an inescapable feature of adult life. I put all this effort into learning how to do things, and I would dearly love to save other people the trouble of learning the hard way. But that knowledge and experience is essentially useless because nobody wants to hear it from me

Which is another reason I wouldn't want to have children. My parents thought they knew everything, and even though I frequently suspected they were wrong, what choice did I have as a minor? To run away? I had to live by their rules, their expectations, their advice and their control

Another thing I see on Facebook, and that I'm seeing more of lately, is my friends having children. And realizing that some of them are really great parents, and some are not. And it is hard to watch people I dearly love, as friends, fucking up their children's lives almost from day 1. And I don't know how to respect that, how to be accepting, or how to say to them gently "Um, you know, maybe it's not fair to be such a controlling perfectionist about your kid, even if that's how you do everything else in your life and that's okay because it's your life"? And knowing that it's not my place to butt in

But wishing there were something I could do to save those poor kids from growing up the way I did, just wishing somebody would please butt in

and stand up for me because we can't always stand up for ourselves

And how modern psychology would probably say this is what I kept hoping for in my career, for somebody to hear me say I needed help and butt in

But our culture seems to think that's somehow impolite, that you should keep to yourself, even when you see things that are unfair or unethical or inhumane, you should just remember it's not your place to butt in

Ambassadors for Science

Much as I aspire to have a paying job with the word "ass" in the title, the truth is that as a PhD, I think it is already part of my "job" to educate the public about science and scientists.

I probably spend too much time wondering how much more we could get done, how many rockets sent to how many planets, how many diseases cured, how many electric cars invented, if only we were valued by our taxpaying citizens as much as wars and wall street already are.

I probably spend too much time wondering why we can't have high-paying contracts the way rock stars, lawyers, and ball players do to live the wonderful lifestyles they live.

But what I think it really comes down to is this: as a group, we are terrible ambassadors. Scientists themselves are responsible for not educating the public about science.

Just witness the comments on my last blog post.

Most scientists are more concerned with their own comfort than with the bigger picture. The one minute it takes you to get out there and give science some visibility by saying Hey, I'm a scientist! This is what a scientist looks like!

Is it really too much for you to give?

We love to talk about K-12 outreach and educating teachers, yada yada, when claiming we'll have a "Broader Impact" in our grant proposals. But let's be honest. It's too late by the time kids are in school. The truth is, their parents don't value science as an endeavor, and they don't see their kids as potential scientists. I know mine never in a million years would have guessed I'd want to work in a lab. And they really had no idea what scientists do as opposed to, say, medical doctors or engineers. I'm pretty sure they still don't quite get it.

I really hate seeing these surveys they claim "most" US citizens think science is important. I think it's complete bullshit. My own parents have zero interest in visiting my lab and seeing what we actually do there. We do some pretty freaking cool stuff, but somehow we've failed to spread the curiosity or excitement.

In real life, most US citizens are freaked out at the thought of meeting a scientist, and they'd rather pay more taxes to protect them from terrorists than they would to protect them from H1N1 flu, even though their chances of catching the flu are orders of magnitude higher.

You might have seen the "Americans sure are stupid" video floating around recently. Do you really think the people on that video value science? Of course not. They think we are all still the kids they picked on in school. The nerds. Nobody respected us then, and they don't really respect us now. They have no idea what our jobs entail, why we do them, or how it affects their daily lives.

Do us all a favor and get out of your comfort zone when you're out running errands or at a party meeting new non-scientist people. If somebody asks you what you do, DON'T LIE. Just say you're a scientist.

Reasons to be blank

1. Can't think verbally
2. Got nothing good to say
3. Poker face
4. Can't get in trouble this way
5. Endless possibilities for things to say later
6. Room for thought
7. Silent fears
8. Generalized apathy
9. Other people put words in my mouth anyway
10. Who's even listening? Nobody hears

Revisiting recurring themes.

Had a rather emotional chat with my therapist this week. The suggestion (she doesn't know I have a blog), was that I should write about some of these things that came up. As it turns out, I already have. I had fun re-reading these. I hope you will, too.

One of the themes was Respect. How I feel like I don't get any.
I searched for that among my past posts, and found these:

Women can't argue
Relating to authority figures
Why I hate being a postdoc
Leader of the pack
Rodney Dangerfield disease

So to sum those up, the point is that I thought scientists would value quality, not bullshit, and be capable of respecting quality when they see it. But scientists are just as blinded by bullshit as everyone else.

Another theme was feeling like I have no voice, that I'm not heard. Some of that is tied up with the Respect issue, but mostly it has to do with being female and a postdoc.

Nobody cares about your blog
Because I can?

Dear NIH
Your work is not your own

And finally, the "tree falls in an empty forest" phenomenon, the idea that nobody knows or cares what you do, a post I wrote 2 years ago that nicely summarizes how I've been feeling for the last 2 years:

I still want to quit