Archive for the 'Who Am I?' Category

My inner feminist considers weddings

admin October 11th, 2007

After having just attended a wedding, the symbolism of the common traditions has been on my mind. Weddings are all about symbolism. There is the lighting of two candles to make one. There is the never-ending ring. There is the first walk back down the isle as Mr. and Mrs. These are nice traditions, I mean, if you buy into that sort of thing. And even the most anti-sentimentalist can usually suspend the gag reflex at a wedding. But after having attending probably a dozen weddings, I still have a problem with how many of the traditions still blatantly symbolize a woman as property. Check it out:

The white dress – At one time symbolizing virginity, without which the man was not obligated to continue with the contract no matter the circumstances, the white dress is still used by tradition. Although I think that a bride should be able to choose whatever color she wants, (red? Great! Orange? You betcha!) white and variations thereof tend to be quite flattering and the ties to virginity have largely been lost, so whatever. I can deal with the white dress. But please, don’t expect me to join in your disapproval of the colored flowers on the bodice. Go gossip to someone else if you don’t want to hear my opinion.

The giving away of the bride – Hello? Why is her father “giving” her away? What the hell is up with this? She is not property to be given away to another man. Nobody gives her. She is not being given. She is not being bought. She is deciding to permanently hook up with this guy up front. Yet, even the most forward thinking brides continue to be “given away.” Maybe they don’t even stop to think about what it symbolizes. But they should. If there is any time when people should be thinking about symbolism it should be at a wedding ceremony. The whole “tradition” argument is weak to me too. Back before women could vote, keeping them from the polls was tradition too. How about the “tradition” of checking the sheets after the honeymoon night? Want to do that one too? I didn’t think so. I can completely see wanting to involve parents in a wedding. It is a big deal. It symbolizes a transition to adulthood. I get this. Why can’t the bride walk up with both her parents? Why can’t she walk up by herself and give them both a big “goodbye” hug? Why is there still the “who gives this woman” section in the speech? If the preacher had accidentally sprung this at me on my wedding, I would have spoken up with an exasperated, “Nobody!” The giving away stinks of ownership to me. I don’t like it.

The taking of his name – Back when women were property, their names were legally changed to give witness to the transfer of the property from father to the husband. Let’s pretend the bride is a chicken. It used to be Smith’s chicken, but now it is Ander’s chicken, so we’ll call it Mrs. Chicken Anders. That way, there is no mistake as to who the chicken belongs to. Well, we are not chickens, and we are no longer the husband’s or the father’s property (if we ever REALLY were), so why is name changing still so common? Why don’t the men also change their names? I can understand from the point of view of the family. It does get a little confusing when the parents have different names from the child. But I can’t understand why it is just assumed that the woman will change her name. Wouldn’t it make more sense if the two just got together and decided which one they liked best? Or if they can’t decide come up with something new, or an amalgam? I mean, Mrs. Anna Dick and all her children could have been saved a lot of teasing if everyone had taken her maiden Stevenson, or adopted Dickerson. Poor Mary Christmas, and Anita Bath. Did it never cross their minds not to adopt these horrible names? Automatically taking the name of the man is in effect saying that the male line of the family is more important. It is an unstated transfer of power and ownership to the husband, and that just isn’t right, or true. So why are we still doing it?

The asking the father for permission to marry – Man, it just rubs me the wrong way. Again, I understand that the fiancé wants to make a good impression with the parents. I also understand that it is a big deal to any child’s parents when they get married. But asking permission? From the father? Again the whole idea smacks of male ownership. It would be much preferable to me if the husband sat down with the two parents, told them his wishes, and then stated that he hoped they would eagerly and happily accept him into the family, while on the other side of town the daughter was doing the same thing in front of his family. Wouldn’t that be nicer? Wouldn’t that be a way of showing respect to the parents without minimizing both the status of the mother and the soon-to-be wife? I am all about respect but this tradition disrespects the bride, her mother, and really, the parents of the groom. Shouldn’t his parents have a say in the matter too? Oh wait, he’s not THEIR property like she is, so it’s OK. Ick.

Don’t even get me started on the “serving the husband” part of the vows. Fortunately, I don’t hear that one too often these days.

Baby or Career? Internet fairy, where are you?

admin October 6th, 2007

Well internet, I pose to you a question. Should I have a baby, or should I start my new career?

Really, I suppose the question is more nuanced than this. Really it is, should I go ahead and try to get pregnant now so that I can have a baby this summer, a perfect time when my family would be more able to help, a perfect time when I (hopefully) will have just graduated and so will be wanting to take off and reevaluate anyway, a perfect time because my brain is telling me almost daily that really I want to be pregnant already, a time my husband and I have been planning for months. OR. Or should I plan on being accepted into these incredibly exciting internship opportunities (not near home) that could be huge stepping stones on my way to branching out into a new career, a career that comes with a huge learning curve, acknowledge that a pregnancy, or worse a new infant would make that experience much more difficult if not impossible, and once again try putting off this huge life development? Of course it could happen that I could try to get pregnant now and it would take a while. It could also happen that I could put off having a baby just to be rejected from every program that I am hoping for. But I can’t plan for that. I have to plan as if I know what I am doing. The problem is that I have no idea what I am doing.

Can you do an internship i and be pregnant or breastfeeding? Even more pressing can you do one, possibly unpaid, most likely geographically separated from your income producing husband? I am thinking it would be almost impossibly difficult. I hate this. People ask why young women inherently have a more difficult time gaining high powered careers than men. I am mid-upper 20s. This is the time. This is the time for both career and family, and doing both right now just seems impossible. This is the reason. Internet, what do I do?

Hello again

admin September 10th, 2007

Hello Internets [sic]

I know it has been a long time since I have updated this already very short blog. Do not think I have forgotten you, no; you are always on my mind. You were always there, a small, but palpable kernel of guilt, because I know I should be tending you, updating you, keeping you alive. I know that if I wanted to have any readers at all, that if this blog was ever going to be something other than my own private space, I needed to give at least a little, and often. I have not done that, and I’m sorry. But now let me tell you what I have been doing. I have so much to tell.

There has been much going on outside myself that is of note as well, but for now, I want to let you in on just me.

The short version is I’ve decided to finish my PhD (if only due to sunk costs, which I know you are supposed to ignore, but this time I think it makes sense, and those econ people change their tune every decade or so anyway and I still get off on the idea of people calling me “doctor”) and then completely change my career path. I am going to become one more leak in the pipeline, not because I am forced, or can’t cut it, or am unsuitable due to some gender pre-disposition, but because I’ve decided that I want to do something else. It is not a goal I can’t achieve, just a goal I no longer desire. In fact, my success at being a science PhD student is what I foresee will be one of my largest obstacles. People will not understand. So I am going to try to explain it to you.

I want to do the things that I would do if only I won the lottery. But I won’t win the lottery because I never play. So I’m going to do them now. And it is going to be wonderful. And I am so excited. But now a little background….

To an outsider I have been doing very little. In fact, both my advisors are pushing me hard to get some real data, to have a deliverable, to achieve real (rather than incremental) progress. I do want data, I do want progress, but the doing is getting more and more difficult. Some days I accomplish quite a bit and others nothing, but on average, I really could be accomplishing more while at work. It is a struggle. But I am at work every day. I’m here. So what am I doing?

Reading. Reading all kinds of things. I love reading. And the internet lets you read all the time about anything you want. I usually enjoy reading things with no real purpose, or at least reading about topics that are completely different from my work. But lately, I’ve been doing more directed reading. I’ve been reading blogs. Lots and lots of blogs. I find that blogs are a direct route to honest day to day information. Blogs are the memoirs of real people. I’ve been reading about happy academics, disillusioned scientists, people who love and hate their lives, mommy blogs and daddy blogs, dog blogs and business blogs, career blogs, and even sex tips blogs, which by the way are not porn, and always entertaining. And I thought to myself at the end of yet another very unproductive day of internet reading (sorry employers), “Why am I doing this?” And the answer came back “Because you’re unhappy.” And there it was. I wasn’t unhappy in the way you are unhappy after some small setback, or someone says something nasty about you, or you step back into a nasty pile of dog shit. I was reading about other people’s lives and careers to escape mine. (Oh except for the sex blogs. Those are just really interesting, and useful.)

And so I decided to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, which is a change, because a few months ago I would have had a definite answer. (The reason as to exactly why I no longer want to be a high-profile academic I will leave to another post) And that took a while. It took more reading, and lots of thinking, and talking to my husband. It took evaluating and re-evaluating and flip-flopping and second-guessing. I just couldn’t find something that I was crazy about. I took all kinds of quizzes, but discovered nothing new. I was interesting in many things, I was creative, I like people but not all of them, and I could do what I am doing now or something completely different. Great.

And then, I don’t know how, but I linked off of something to some books. And I read their descriptions, and I thought, SHIT this is me! I like keeping many things going at once. I love learning. I revel in new experiences. I love meeting and talking to new (often strange) people. I get bored easier than most people. Boredom is torture. I like change. I often wish I was born in a time when Renaissance Man (or woman?? – well, there are some good things about the present) was actually a career choice. Ben Franklin is the coolest dead white guy I don’t know.

It turns out I am a Scanner, a Renaissance Soul, or whatever else you want to call it, and there are others like me, and we actually can do what we like AND have an income. And this book will tell you all about it. Fuck. I bought the books. I never buy the books. (Self-help books are pointless and boring.) I bought the books. And they really are good books. If this sounds like you, go and check them out. I bet lots of you are like me. I bet you just don’t know it yet.

And now I am ready to quit my job (after the degree) and start off on a completely different path. My degree will always be my safety net, but I am giving myself the freedom to really do what I want. This is great! I am happy! And I have realized that the parts of me I really love, the spunky, creative, laid back parts of me have been getting buried under disenchantment, and boredom.

I’ll tell you more about it all, what I am going to do and how, what I have come to believe about the academic system, and my fears about telling the people who have seen me come this far later. Right now, I just wanted to re-introduce myself. I’m a scanner. How do you do?

On a Day far Removed from May 13

admin June 6th, 2007

I know it has been a long time since Mother’s Day, but I have putting off this post because I kept trying to wait until I could get it just right. I’ve finally decided that such a thing is not possible. So, here goes.

On mother’s day, I read quite a bit. I read many reflections from mothers on their experiences, and many people recalling, whether poignant or painful, experiences with their own mothers. I read tales of cute young children, preschool tots, teenage struggle, and belated appreciation. Many wonderful stories were written about mothers of sons and daughters, and even dogs, cats, and a snake in homage to this day. But as I read, I found something missing. Where were the sonnets devoted to the mother in law? Mention of this particular species was curiously absent. Now, this phenomena is likely easily understood. Mothers in Law are not traditionally a highly favored demographic. They come along often as so much unwanted baggage in a relationship. They often misuse their power, dismiss, criticize, cause friction, and a put their noses where they are not welcome. And certainly, there are some positively awful MsIL that can poison any relationship and who are just mean people. These are not the MiL of whom I speak. I refer to the MiL who may not be your favorite person, but who is a good person, one who may say the wrong thing, but for the right reasons. I am willing to bet that most MiL could be placed into this category.

It is easy to give homage to your own mother or yourself as the mother of your children and forget any contribution from the MIL. MILs are easily forgotten, being the actual mothers of other people, being the people that weren’t family until you brought someone else into yours. But please remember on this day, that mothers in law are mothers too. Though you may have “married the man, not his mother” this woman did raise this man (or woman) to whom you have pledged your devotion. This woman is also the grandmother to any of your children. And if you are a woman, and a mother, someday you may also be a MIL. She is important. She is family, whether you like it or not.

I write this from a unique perspective. This year I lost my Mother in Law. She is gone, and I never really appreciated her. I miss her because she’s the mother of my husband. I miss her because she would have been the grandmother of my children. And I miss her because she was MY mother in law. Mine. And now she’s gone. I miss her too, because should a new woman enter the family and try to be all of these things, she will never really be the same as the woman who raised my husband. I will never be able to see in this new woman, however wonderful she may be, in the things he does or says, or the way he looks. I have lost a part of my husband, and a part of our family. My children will never be able to know him better by knowing his mother. She will never be able to dote on her son’s child. And now, this mother’s day, my husband must take my mother, his mother in law, as a stand-in to his own. I don’t mean that my mother could ever replace his, but she is the closest thing he has at the moment, and though I love her, I pity him. She is an odd bird, that one. A very sweet, wonderful, odd bird. And she is not his mother. I hope it never happens to you, but someday, like him, your Mother in Law may become the only “mother” you have. And like me, you may lose one you never realized you took for granted.

So in between your crooning or crying, remember a mention of the Mothers in Law, who without whom, these people, our spouses, lovers, and parents, would not exist, and who, for all their faults, are our mothers too.

Ladies, change your tires.

admin May 22nd, 2007

Recently, I was on my way to an appointment, when I heard and felt an unusual, vibration in my car. I was driving on a fairly slow stretch of two-lane road and so it was not difficult to pull into a vacant parking lot to check out the possible source of this vibration. What I saw was what I had expected but had really hoped I wouldn’t see - a flat tire. Damn. Now a front tire flat is an awful thing, and at high speeds can cause a driver to inadvertently swerve, hit other vehicles, and even cause horrible fatal accidents. A flat back tire is not certainly something I fantasize about late at night under the covers while the smell of incense wafts through the dark bedroom, but it is not nearly so difficult or dangerous to drive on. Seeing that I just had a flat back tire, and being close to home I just pulled back into my driveway, contacted the person I was supposed to meet to reschedule the appointment, and called my mechanic. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi, I just had a flat so I need to make an appointment to bring my car in tomorrow morning
Car guy: Oh, that’s never good, are you OK?
Me: Yeah, sure, I’m fine, I was close to home when it happened.
Car guy: Well, do you need us to help you with it?
Me: Well, I’ll need to bring it over and get some new tires or at least get a patch.
Car guy: So you don’t need us to come help you out?
Me: Um, no. Like I said I was close to home so I’ll just change it when I get home from work this afternoon and bring it in to you tomorrow morning.
Car guy: So, you mean you’re going to change the tire yourself?
Me: Uh, yes.
Car guy: Wow, not many of our lady customers change their own tires.
Me: Ha. Well, I do. So I’m good. Thanks!
Car guy: Wow. OK then. See you tomorrow.

What the heck people!? Is it really so rare for a woman to change her tires? When I got to my mechanic, who I happen to really like, he was still very impressed that I, a little defenseless, weak, (and I infer, inferior) woman could and would change HER. OWN. TIRE. He meant everything he said as a compliment, but I was offended as a woman. When I went back to work that day I relayed the story to my (male) coworkers and they completely agreed with the mechanic. “A woman will have her car towed when the radio battery quits working” is one quote from that conversation. I think that that is just sad.

I asked them why they thought this was the case, stating that it had to be either a. Women are never taught how to do these things but for some reason men are or b. Women have for some reason gotten the idea in their heads that they just can’t. One of them made a comment something along the lines of “well, men just tend to be better with spatial reasoning and using their hands so they are more likely to learn how.” Now, that point can be debated, but let’s say this is true. Let’s say that men, just by being men, tend to gravitate more to things mechanical, and so are more inclined to learn something like changing a tire. This doesn’t matter. Whether you enjoy doing it or not, learning to change a tire has several benefits that outweigh any general disinclination to do it. These are

1. Knowing how to change a tire can save time

It usually takes a minimum of 30 minutes for someone to come out and rescue a car with a flat tire. On the way to a meeting, those can be precious minutes. The change itself would likely take no longer than 30 minutes

2. Knowing how to change a tire can save money

Sure, with AAA it is pretty much free, but many people don’t have roadside assistance, and a tow can cost quite a bit of money.

3. Not knowing how to change a tire can be dangerous.

Who knows if they guy who stops to help you out is trustworthy or not? What if you have a flat in the middle of nowhere? What if you don’t have cell service? What if what if what if? You at least want to have the ability to do it if you need to.

So, for those reasons, I think that the “women aren’t inclined to change their own tires because they’re women” theory is bunk. I think that people don’t teach their daughters these things, and the daughters for some reason have been led to believe that they shouldn’t learn. I know several women who have changed their tires for the first time and felt a rush of accomplishment. (One described it as euphoric.) Certainly, it was not something that they couldn’t do, or didn’t like doing. Before that day, they just had never known how. This is something that needs to change. I do not like being complimented because I am a woman who changed her tire. That is one distinction that I can live without.

So, women, strong independent wonderful women, go out, learn, be empowered, please CHANGE YOUR TIRES!

And teach your daughters, too.

Now I know

admin April 29th, 2007

At least I know about the pregnancy. I’m not pregnant, I just was mysteriously a week late. In the grand scheme of things this is probably a positive development, but my husband has to listen to me coo over every little chubby cheeked babe I see. (Who is this woman I have become? I do not recognize her.) It is nice that he likes them too. That will probably come in handy… It also seems that springtime brings not only nice weather, flowers, and baby chicks, but pregnancy announcements too. In the last week, I have received announcements of one birth and three pregnancies. I don’t even have a good reason to be jealous, but I seem to be that way anyway.

In other news, to celebrate our continued status as just a couple (and not prospective parents) my husband and I have decided to take a nice little vacation. Being that this vacation will coincide nicely our family planning time line, I have decided that this would make a nice procreation trip. The thing is though, I want to be able to drink wine and coffee and eat unprocessed cheese without having to worry about the pregnancy consequences. So I am left with a question. How do I know when I should worry about this? If I eat cheese and drink wine two weeks after conception, is this risky behavior? One week? Three days? I won’t even know if I am pregnant until a week out. How do people on these so called “procreation trips” handle these issues? Do they just not indulge? If there is a time to indulge, I would think that the time would be on the trip. Why don’t they have handbooks for this? Or at least why don’t I have one?

Just wish I knew

admin March 28th, 2007

So I have peed on three sticks now, all of which tell me that I am not pregnant. The thing is though, I am four days past my cycle time last month, and no sign of a period. So, that’s odd. Every time the stick shows a single pink line, I feel a kind of let down, and then relief. I think I would just like to know FOR SURE. The other thing that I’m worried about is that I managed to convince myself I wasn’t, and then went ahead and had a beer one night, a couple of margaritas two other nights, and now I’m wondering if that was a big mistake. Please forgive my stream of consciousness run-on sentences. Sigh… No wonder I seem completely unable to do anything constructive these days. Well, maybe that and my allergies. But the plants, they are gorgeous!

I’m also thinking quite a bit about what I want to do when I grow up. I have always wanted to be a professor. Always. It seemed like such a nice life: teaching and research, school holidays, distinguished colleagues, bright young pupils, freedom to be an individual, job security, travel, and time and flexibility for a family. This is why I am in grad school, this is why I am working on my PhD. But, I keep reading about how difficult it is, how women must fight to maintain work-life balance, how the money isn’t bad, but it’s not great either, how there is no guarantee of tenure, how I will most likely after all this work STILL need to go post doc, uprooting myself for low pay, how so many women have fled for law, business, or medicine, and I start to think maybe I should flee too. It doesn’t help that all the very distinguished professors around me seem to have sacrificed almost every other aspect of their lives, and many still don’t live that well. You still have to work like a dog in business or law, but at least you get compensated for it. You might never get tenure, but then you don’t have to worry about not getting it, and best of all, you don’t have to ask the government for your money. People actually pay you. If I want to have a kid soon, I will either have to usurp my husband from his job and somehow survive for a while on just my pay with the added cost of a child, or I will have to live apart from my husband and constantly worry that my child either won’t know me or my husband. I just don’t know if I am willing to do that. Plus, once the stint is over, we will most likely have to move AGAIN. Now, I love to move from place to place and to travel, but that unknown, that horrible possibility in which we don’t have enough money for ourselves, much less a family, terrifies me. And I shouldn’t have to worry like this. I am smart, creative, and spunky. I work hard. At the end, I will have a PhD in the sciences, and I will have to worry about FEEDING MY FAMILY? I am all about deferred gratification. But how long must one defer? I have worked my ass of for years, and I am getting the feeling it is high time to get some reward.

On the other hand, if I leave, I can never go back. And that scares me crazy too.

Where is the career fairy when you need her?

ENTJ I Am

admin March 21st, 2007

I am an ENTJ. For those of you who don’t know, this combination of letters, standing for extrovert intuitive thinking judging (Not ear nose throat and other junk) , says quite a bit about my personalty, my value system, and how I think. Apparently very few people are defined by this combination, though I have read that young MBAs often try to fake it.

According to the “personality page” online:

“ENTJs are very career-focused, and fit into the corporate world quite naturally. They are constantly scanning their environment for potential problems which they can turn into solutions. They generally see things from a long-range perspective, and are usually successful at identifying plans to turn problems around.

There is not much room for error in the world of the ENTJ. They dislike to see mistakes repeated, and have no patience with inefficiency. They may become quite harsh when their patience is tried in these respects, because they are not naturally tuned in to people’s feelings, and more than likely don’t believe that they should tailor their judgments in consideration for people’s feelings. ENTJs, like many types, have difficulty seeing things from outside their own perspective.

ENTJs are very forceful, decisive individuals. They make decisions quickly, and are quick to verbalize their opinions and decisions to the rest of the world. The ENTJ who has not developed their Intuition will make decisions too hastily, without understanding all of the issues and possible solutions. On the other hand, an ENTJ who has not developed their Thinking side will have difficulty applying logic to their insights, and will often make poor decisions. Although ENTJs are not naturally tuned into other people’s feelings, these individuals frequently have very strong sentimental streaks. Often these sentiments are very powerful to the ENTJ, although they will likely hide it from general knowledge, believing the feelings to be a weakness.

ENTJs love to interact with people. As Extroverts, they’re energized and stimulated primarily externally. There’s nothing more enjoyable and satisfying to the ENTJ than having a lively, challenging conversation. They especially respect people who are able to stand up to the ENTJ, and argue persuasively for their point of view. There aren’t too many people who will do so, however, because the ENTJ is a very forceful and dynamic presence who has a tremendous amount of self-confidence and excellent verbal communication skills. Even the most confident individuals may experience moments of self-doubt when debating a point with an ENTJ.”

Yup, that pretty much sounds like me. I took the test in high school and recently again online with the same result each time. I really like getting things done, and hate inefficiency. I have had to work hard during my life to be attuned to other people’s emotions, and my sentimental side is strong but revealed only to the closest friends, as I certainly see this as a weakness. People who don’t know me well enough are often very surprised that this side exists at all.

Why do I write about this? Well, I think it is very interesting that a simple test can get to my underlying mechanisms so well. Parts of me that are not well-explained by these four letters mostly came about through repetition and concerted effort, not naturally. I like to figure out what really drives people, and feel that they should know what’s driving me. Also, I have some fear about how people will take my motherhood status when (hopefully when) it comes. I have heard people express doubt, (her, coo at a baby? I see them thinking) and while I have no doubt that I will be a good mother, it will take me showing my vulnerable side for them to see. I’m not sure I want or need to do that. Finally, a rather shameless request. I do enjoy writing and find it fun blogging even to a dark and empty room, but I am an extrovert. I love feedback and discussion and people. So please, if you read this blog, post a comment, let other people know, just say something. Cause I’d love to hear from you. Really, it would make my day.

The Good

admin March 4th, 2007

At one point during my grad career, about two years in when I was watching everyone around me belch up publications while I was desperately trying to get someone to believe in my work enough to let me do it, when co-workers were hinting that I wasn’t working up to par, when one in particular told me I was only there because I was a woman (jokingly, but..), I hit bottom.

Now, I am normally a very confident, very positive person. If worrying doesn’t help, don’t do it. Quit whining. FIX THE PROBLEM.

But this time was different. It snuck up on me. It was as if each morning someone placed another pebble on my shoulder, until one day they combined to crush me. I would have moments of joy, but they become more fleeting. I would pick fights with my husband, blaming him for my bad moods. I was constantly exhausted. I felt like crying but didn’t have the energy. I couldn’t do anything. It was an effort just to hoist myself out of my chair long enough to walk to the bathroom to pee. I remember being hungry but not being able to find the energy to make something to eat. At home I would just sit for hours staring. I looked up depression online and began recognizing more and more symptoms. When it got really bad I tried to make an appointment with the counseling center but they told me I had to walk over there to get an appointment. What kind of place makes depressed people WALK A MILE to make an appointment?! A place with a serious priority problem, that’s where. But I digress… The point is I was spending hours and hours a day doing nothing but sitting in my chair in front of my computer, trying hard to look like I was working.

And what was I doing while I was sitting there in my chair in front of my computer screen? I was reading. I was reading anecdotes of woman engineers, and woman mothers. I was reading about the state of women in the pipeline. I was reading about job satisfaction of these young academics. I was reading statistics about academic women and children. I was reading about the funding situation, and about stress in academia. And you know what? The picture was dismal. The internet tells me that in general academia is a sorry state of affairs, but women in particular might as well just go ahead and start chopping off fingers. It told me: Women can’t make it or don’t want to, and if they do, they can’t have kids, and if they have kids they will never get what they want and they will make less money. The internet was telling me to throw in the towel, that there was no light at the end of the tunnel, that I would work and strive and sacrifice and make less money and have less fun and achieve less than everyone else. I would work my ass off to be unhappy. It would never get better. Every day was near to living in hell. This is what the internet told me.

And then one day I was sitting in my car with my husband, and I looked out into a deep ravine, and I said, “You know, I could just push my foot down and we would go into that ravine. But then I would hurt you. I’ll have to do it after you get out of the car.” And he looked at me with such hurt and concern, that I knew I had to do something about this problem. And the next day my adviser sat me down, told me what he expected, and sketched out a plan of how we were going to do this. (WHY hadn’t we done this two years ago??) And then things got better. Slowly, it got better.

I still have my off days now, but I can recognize it when it comes, and most of the time I can run the other direction. But I have noticed that every time, I go back to the internet, looking for some good news, looking for some happy anecdotes, looking for those happy stories in which it is all worthwhile, and I’m telling you that they are out there but they are VERY HARD TO FIND. It makes sense really. We can vent here when we can’t vent to anyone else. We write it down to get it of our heads. When things are good you don’t feel like telling everyone. No one wants to brag. No one wants to rock a happy boat. But those days when I am sitting at my chair, unable to finish the work I am supposed to be doing, searching for hours to find one ounce of positive feedback, just a bit of anonymous encouragement, I understand exactly why so many women leave academia before they even get started. You can only work so long before you have to see the light at the end of the tunnel. You can only search so long without finding gold.

So please, all you young academics out there, going through the motions, having families, getting tenure, raising students, tell us about the good. Tell us why you haven’t left to open a bar in Tahiti. Tell us why you don’t use your equipment to start a meth emporium. Tell us why you don’t read palms over the phone. Tell us why you love being a scientist. Tell us about that moment of discovery, the paper that got published, those students that you reached. Tell us about how much you enjoy your children, how they are doing well despite your continued ambitions, how it can be helpful to be able to explain the phases of the moon, or why the crickets are chirping. Tell us about how you travel and attend conferences and meet cool people, about how when you walk around campus there are people speaking five different languages, and some with T-shirts that make references to sex with integrals, and some with pink hair. Tell us when the birds sing, and the flowers bloom, and you get a pat on the back. Because these are the things we need to hear. We need the good as well as the bad. We need to know why we should do this. Please, for the sake of those people sitting in their chairs wondering why the hell they are there, print the good.

The Beginning

admin March 3rd, 2007

Hello to you all, my dear future readers.

I must admit to some amount of uncertainty and apprehension in writing this first post. It is afterall, my very first, and I have not a clue what I am doing.

On one hand, I am quite sure that unlike those already successful individuals tapping away in the blogosphere, no one will check my website this evening as the day winds down and the sun’s wane signals the end of another day, no one will stop here tomorrow morning, their hot coffee cup delivered mechanically back and forth while their eyes flit across these words, and no one will flip to this site from their list of favorites in between a phone call and that afternoon meeting, and be glad that this person they keep on hand to inform, to entertain, to inspire, has added one more piece of their life to the screen. I know I will post this and not a single person will read it. I have no admirers. I have no defilers. I have no casual observers. My website is the loner child. I am speaking in the dark.

But then again, this is the beginning. This is the post that will be read (hopefully) by those seeking to see how it all started, to see who I was when I began, and how I have changed. This post will be the appetizer, the first dance, the one that sets the flavor, whether complimentary or jarring, for all the rest. I reconsider. Perhaps this is the one that matters most.

Therefore, whether awful or enlightened, I feel that this post must stand as a marker. I must here define who I am so that you may judge what I write in the future, against who I was in the past. I do not expect you, dear reader, to read my words in a vacuum. You must file me according to your system and decide what you will take from me, and what you will leave be. You must determine my place among those millions of others. Let me introduce myself.

Hello, I am a
daughter, wife, woman,
artist, scientist, engineer,
writer, reader, singer
tree-hugger, photographer, student,
home-owner, thinker, agnostic,
lover, striver, friend.

I love animals, fast cars, plants, bright colors, beautiful people, unusual books, dark movies, flowery scents, grease, dirt, the feel of cashmere, warm sheets, hot showers, mornings spent outside, new shoes, dogs, running, the beach, dark chocolate, clean lab coats, cinnamon, and being naked.

I dislike cold showers, people who don’t respect children or animals, frilly girls, arrogant men, days without sunlight, litterers, people who don’t use turn signals, inefficiency, willful ignorance, popcorn dripping in butter, weak handshakes, treeless housing developments, and pointy-toes.

How very nice to meet you.

I think this should do for now. The rest you’ll just have to figure out for yourself.

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