Women in Analytical Chemistry Speak. | Analytical Chemistry

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t’s easy enough to start by observing that women in analytical chemistry have the same hopes and concerns as women everywhere. They love their work and believe that the playing field for young women is much more level now. Yet few become full professors, and even fewer win high-level awards. In addition, they are more likely than men to face the dual-career problem and often bear greater responsibility for child care. In these respects, analytical chemistry seems no better, and no worse, than other scientific disciplines. However, merely confirming these trends tells you very little about the challenges of being a woman in this field. Much more revealing are the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of 28 women in U.S. and European academia and industry. On some issues, it has been possible to add definitive numbers to their accounts. But often it has not, because, as it turns out, the most striking and consistent response from the women interviewed for this article was that no one has ever asked them all how they are doing.

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Does gender bias exist? Marye Anne Fox, a chemist who is now chancellor of North Carolina State University, doesn’t hesitate when asked if women still face gender bias. “I think it’s unconscious, and certainly not universal, but yes,” she says. This feeling echoes the findings of last year’s report by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) on the status of its tenured

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female science faculty (1). The report revealed gender bias in the form of “unconscious attitudes”, and it cited evidence that women received less lab space, money, and other resources and were not appointed to positions of leadership, despite equivalent professional achievements. Although the report has been criticized for not including hard data (2), MIT’s revelations led about half a dozen schools to plan their own studies. Phyllis Brown of the University of Rhode Island is also critical. “Women may be welcome at the peon level,” she says, “but not in the upper echelons.” Janet Osteryoung of the National Science Foundation (NSF) finds particular fault with academic science, saying, “People go out of their way to make sure they throw away female talent.” Catherine Fenselau, former chair of the chemistry department at the University of Maryland, has mixed feelings. Women seem to be accepted in industry, she says, and as “foot soldiers” (i.e., graduate students). “[But] I don’t think we’re doing any better in academics than any other division of chemistry,” she adds. “I’m not overwhelmed by the number of women who are full professors in analytical chemistry.” However, this is not to say that women IN feel they are always at a disadvantage. Some women, such as Catherine Costello, have a favorable outlook despite some bad experiences. She moved to Boston University’s School of Medicine at the end of 1994 because she found that being an analytical chemist and a woman was a double liability at MIT. Nevertheless, she says, “Nobody [in this field] makes an issue of which gender the people are if they’re doing something interesting.” Others point to the progress that has been made. Barbara Larsen of Dupont says that, early in her career, she worked in a very “male-oriented” environment, where, for example, some people told off-color jokes. But she says the atmosphere changed as more women entered the field. Indeed, all the women interviewed agree that those who enter the field now will experience fewer difficulties. Michele Kelly, who earned her doctorate six years ago and now works for Pfizer, is an example. “I’ve never really felt I’ve been put in a place of being different,” she says. “From high school through graduate school, I’ve felt like I had completely equal footing with everyone.” She acknowledges that women previously faced some barriers, but she points to the ratio of women to men around her, saying, “You can see it in a room [full of co-workers] and in the management teams. It is really leveling out.” In addition, women acknowledge the efforts of people in the analytical chemistry community. Many women mention male mentors who encouraged and guided them. Sylvia Daunert of the University of Kentucky, for example, credits her former department head with helping her parlay her job as a research professor into a tenured position. Anna BrajterToth of the University of Florida takes a broader view, saying, “I think the electrochemistry and analytical chemistry communities have done a lot without any special pressures.” There are even suggestions that gender may sometimes work in a woman’s favor. Apryll

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local environments can vary tremendously. Take, for example, Brown’s experience. She recalls being treated well as a chemistry graduate student at Brown University, but says she had problems after joining the pharmacology faculty. As a result, she was part of a classaction lawsuit in the early 1970s, charging the university with discrimination. Her experience was again different after she moved to the University of Rhode Island. She says she has been much happier there, and her work has blossomed. There is also a significant underlying trend: The younger women interviewed for this article generally don’t perceive as many problems as the senior women, such as Osteryoung, Brown, and Fox. The same pattern was noted in the MIT study. Although it is tempting to assume that this means the problem of gender bias has been solved, very few women think it is that simple. Women’s perceptions of bias also seem to change over time. One indication of this shift is that most of the senior women, like their counterparts in the MIT study, say they were optimistic when they began their careers. “I thought all you had to do was work hard, and if you were good, the rewards would come,” says Brown. Osteryoung adds, “But if [women] don’t rise as far and as fast as they see their male colleagues rising—particularly their colleagues of lesser ability—then they begin to think about that.” Many women also note that junior faculty are preoccupied. “At that stage, you’re working so hard at being successful that you don’t have time to dwell on the reasons why something does or doesn’t happen,” explains Duke University’s Linda McGown. “You just have to find a way to get [your work] done.” Finally, says Fox, men and women are actually treated differently over time. There are fewer differences among assistant professors, she observes, because “the allocations are small and comparable. It’s only natural that any bias would not be apparent.” But as the women progress, they may encounter more difficulty. It may be an indication, suggests McGown, that they are being taken more seriously. Jeanne Pemberton, former head of the analytical division at the University of Arizona, agrees. “It seems to

Stalcup, who is now at the University of Cincinnati, recalls how the chemistry department at the University of Hawaii treated her—the first tenure-track woman in ~40 years. “The department did not want to do anything that might have discriminated against me,” she says, “so I may have gotten more of a helping hand than the guy who got hired at the same time.” Mary Kaiser of Dupont says she has spoken on the challenges that women face, but she also tells of a male professor who works so hard against gender bias that he “almost seems to feel he needs to make up for the sins of the past.” Such efforts may lead to talk of reverse discrimination, she says. “I think some men feel strongly that, in certain cases, [this happens].” But perhaps the best indicator of the climate is this: Even women who feel they are treated well may hesitate to say everything is fine. “I’ve always felt very welcome,” says Daunert, “but I don’t want to make a blanket statement that [women] are welcome everywhere because that’s probably not true.” Julia Fulghum of Kent State University adds, “I used to generalize, but the longer I’ve been in the field, the more counter examples I have for every generalization.”

Shifting perceptions One reason there is a such a variety of reactions is that

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me that the resistance to women’s participation in chemistry increases as they become more successful and pose more of a threat for precious resources, such as funding, space, and recognition,” she says. “I can certainly see evidence of this in my own case.” She notes that the majority of the community treats her fairly. “However, a few individuals can be all it takes to make your life more difficult,” she observes.

A taboo topic Some women—even those who have tenure—are wary of discussing gender bias. Three women conducted their interviews for this article via e-mail so that they could choose their words carefully, and parts of several phone interviews were classified by the sources as not for attribution. In most of these cases, the women worry about the possible impact on future job prospects, appointments to boards and committees, or award nominations. Others find it frustrating to discuss the topic. Several women say they are instantly branded “feminists” when they bring it up. “This kind of argument makes me feel quite alienated,” says Marta Elena Diaz-Garcia of the Universidad de Oviedo (Spain). Sabeth Verpoorte of the University of Neuchâtel (Switzerland) says most of her attempts to talk with men about bias have ended with the men either saying that the problem has nothing to do with gender or sympathizing but not empathizing. Robin Garrell of the University of California–Los Angeles (UCLA) thinks some men react uneasily because talking about the problem makes them feel responsible for it. The problem is a social one, so it’s not their fault, she says, “But [they can] contribute to fixing it.” Several people acknowledge that women also can be hard to approach. “Some of us have gotten so scarred [by bad experiences] that it may be hard for people to be friends with us,” says one woman. Even young women can be hard to talk to, says Hilkka Kenttamaa at Purdue University. She describes a talk she had with a universitywide group of female graduate students. “I was trying to make these girls see that they can make anything they want out of their lives,” she recalls. However, she says the students felt tremendous pressure to fit into the traditional wife–mother role and seemed “fairly hostile” to her advice. “I know I didn’t get through to them,” she says. On the other hand, Lisa Holland of Kent State University says, “Discussing gender bias with other women often validates my perceptions and provides insightful solutions.” And Vicki Wysocki of the University of Arizona says that several men have asked her about gender bias. “[They] are somewhat sensitive to the issue [because they

have] wives or daughters who have encountered some discrimination,” she explains.

Awards The women’s biggest frustration, whether or not they attribute it to bias, is the distribution of awards. About a third of interviewees—even the young scientists and those who feel well treated—say they notice the dearth of awards won by women. An obvious example is the awards from the American Chemical Society (ACS). Tallying the winners of 10 analytical chemistry-related ACS and Division of Analytical Chemistry awards (3) reveals that they have been given out 221 times. Three of those winners were female: Jeanette Grasselli, who won the ACS Award in Analytical Chemistry in 1993; Marjorie G. Horning, who, along with her husband, won the Frank H. Field and Joe L. Franklin Award for Outstanding Achievement in Mass Spectrometry in 1990; and Janet Osteryoung, who won the Division of Analytical Chemistry’s electrochemistry award in 1996. One woman, who has been nominated for several awards but has never won, sums it up this way: “Those who received [these awards] were very good—no two ways about it—but I was just as good. And it’s taken me [a long time] to be able to say that.” The upper ranks of ACS journals are just as lacking in women. None of the academic journals, regardless of the subspecialty, had a female editor-in-chief until 1995. Five years later, 2 of the 28 are women. The numbers are similarly low for associate editors. In 1990, 5 of the 75 (6.7%) were women. In 1999, that percentage was nearly the

It seems to me that t resistance to women?s participati in

J EANNE same: 10 out of 131 (7.6%). The female participation in advisory boards has done somewhat better, growing from 5.3 to 9.1% during the same period. Still, these numbers remain so low that the journal editors formed a task force several months ago to explore the issue. The reason most often cited for the scarcity of women in these positions is that few women have been in chem-


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won the ASMS Award for a Distinguished Contribution in Mass Spectrometry (begun in 1990) or its relatively new Biemann Medal (begun in 1997). Even so, Costello says that ASMS has a significant amount of female leadership. The society has had female presidents, and both of the current candidates for vice president for programs—a position that leads to the presidency—are women. (She is one of them.) Similarly, Garrell says that Applied Spectroscopy “has been incredibly aggressive at finding young people, and particularly young women, to get involved.” Indeed, 6 of the journal’s 21 current advisory board members (just under 29%) are women. “Perhaps Analytical Chemistry [and the ACS] should take a page out of someone else’s book,” one woman suggests.

Undervalued and overlooked Women are also behind in terms of resources. ACS’s 1998 salary and employment survey shows that women’s salaries consistently lag behind men’s. For example, women who have been in industry for 5–9 years earn an average of $43,237, compared with $47,041 for men. With 2–4 years of experience, women earn an average of $33,858, whereas men earn an average of $36,910. In academia, female full professors of chemistry (9- or 10month contracts) earn an average of $64,589, compared with $71,766 for men. Although there are no hard data on allotments of space, several women also raise these issues. For example, Diaz-Garcia says, “I have requested an office as big as my [male] colleagues [have]. No success. And I’m suffering a similar LYNN FOSTER–ILLUSTRATION

istry long enough to have reached the top levels. However, it may be especially hard for women to rise this high. “I feel that . . . women have to be 3–4 times more productive—with less means—to achieve the same recognition,” says Diaz-Garcia. She is not alone. Pam Mabrouk of Northeastern University points to a 1997 Nature study, which concluded that peer reviewers who awarded postdoctoral grants for the Swedish Medical Research Council consistently judged men’s achievements more favorably than women’s (4). Indeed, the most productive woman in the study was seen as equivalent to the least productive man; to receive the same rating, the women had to produce ~2.5 times as much. Even women who have achieved high stature say this happens. For example, Pemberton says that she had to insist on being appointed head of her analytical division when the logical time for such an appointment came. She says she wasn’t barred from the position, but neither was she actively considered at first. To her, this indicated that her stature in the department “had not kept pace with the . . . role I was playing in terms of leadership, direction, and workload.” In fairness, women report being treated equitably in many other situations. Most notably, none of the women feel there is bias in peer review or the awarding of grants. In addition, Kaiser and Kelly say they haven’t seen any discrimination for the accomplishment awards at Dupont and Pfizer. Likewise, Costello says female students and faculty have a good chance of winning awards from the American Society for Mass Spectrometry (ASMS). But there do seem to be limits: No women have

The second woman a getstenured and promoted,

J ULIA FULGHUM situation with lab space.” Again, the MIT report noted the same discrepancy and cited it as a factor that contributed to women’s feelings of marginalization. Other women describe feeling ignored. This can be as simple as being continually interrupted during meetings or as egregious as not being appointed to influential committees. But most women mention the low number of female speakers—both regular and plenary—at conferences. Several cite an incident when Costello publicly challenged organizers of an ASMS meeting. “Two of the smaller workshops had entirely male casts, and I had noted that before,” Costello explains. When she looked at the brochure for a third workshop and saw no female presenters, Costello spoke up. “Many people said they hadn’t noticed,” she says, “but the support [for change] was overwhelming from both men and women.” Others recall being omitted from meetings. Viorica Lopez-Avila, who is on sabbatical from the Midwest Research Institute, describes how she was left out of important meetings early in her career. “We would set up a time, and when I’d come in, I’d find that [the men] had already discussed what to do,” she says. Even being left out of informal meetings can be a problem, adds Brown. In many cases, “the business of where the next conference would be held, who the next chairman would be, and so on, was always done over beer,” she says. “[And] I wasn’t invited.” Kenttamaa describes an analogous situation in Finland: Business was discussed in the sauna. “The men would come out of their sauna talking about some topic that’s very exciting and interesting,” she says, “and the women would never learn what it was.”

Judged by different standards Several women also feel that they are sometimes judged by different standards than their male colleagues. “From comparing notes with friends who’ve been on promotion or tenure committees,” says Fulghum, “I think the files from female candidates are given a harder time.” Most of the good candidates are eventually approved, she adds, but the faculty are pickier with them. Then there is the no-win issue of being aggressive. Verpoorte says she was once passed over for a management job because she was judged not aggressive enough. She admits that, like many women, she may be “more compromise-seeking” than many men and, moreover, that she may not have been right for the job for reasons unrelated to gender. “However, I still find it interesting how that message was delivered,” she says. “My bet is it’s not the same [explanation] for male candidates.” Another woman

says she was perceived the same way, despite interviewing for a job when she was eight months pregnant. “That was nothing but aggressive!” she says. Unfortunately, being aggressive can be just as bad. “It’s much easier for a woman to make a faux pas this way than a man,” says Karen Sentell of Ciba Vision. “We’re supposed to be soft-spoken and well behaved. If we’re blunt, we’re more likely to be considered abrasive.” Finally, there are the small, daily incidents. Pemberton points to offhand remarks, such as a colleague telling prospective graduate students that they won’t get jobs if they pursue research in your area. Another example is having colleagues voice concerns over the prospect of losing someone to a different institution, “but never voicing similar concerns about losing you,” she says. Others point to nasty comments. “People used to say I was sleeping with the department head, and that’s why my career was moving so fast,” says another woman.

Death by a billion pin pricks? Not everyone interprets these experiences as evidence of gender bias. For example, Brajter-Toth says she is the lowest-paid person in her department. “But is that bias against women? I don’t know,” she says. Her university has made many cutbacks, she explains, and “there are a lot of people who can scream louder. Maybe I didn’t scream enough. Maybe I wasn’t savvy enough to see this [initially], and then there was no way for me to catch up.” Likewise, McGown calls being female “just another area of uncertainty when you’re evaluating your accomplishments. I can never figure out if it has worked for me or against me or doesn’t enter into it—and, for the most part, I have given up trying.” An alternative explanation, suggests Brajter-Toth, is that women are entering science en masse at a time when it is more expensive to do and when a lot of the money is concentrated in the hands of a only few researchers. “Maybe if the money were distributed differently, we wouldn’t have as many problems,” she says. Stalcup focuses on space and the clout that it signifies. “People have to give up space when a new person comes in,” she says, “and they don’t like to do that.” Women may feel the brunt of this simply because they have the least seniority, she says. This is similar to the “new kid on the block” syndrome that Sentell and Larsen describe. “[When I began,] there was a sort of competition to see if I was as good as people said,” Larsen recalls. “It was part of integrating into the team.” Some women see cultural differences between men and women as part of the problem. Stalcup acknowledges that women find it “a little harder to break into ‘the club’. I keep waiting for someone to teach me the secret handshake.” But she thinks the motivation behind gender-


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related problems is an attempt to re-establish the pecking order. “Men do this [among themselves] all the time,” she says. “When a new guy gets hired, you can watch them circling each other.” Or perhaps, as Verpoorte suggests, men know how to compete with other men but not with women, because they don’t do it as often. Even if gender bias is not a factor in every situation, some women still think it exists. “A global analysis suggests that, in fact, this is the case,” says Osteryoung. Pemberton agrees, referring to the notion that gender bias today is analogous to death by a thousand pin pricks. “A more accurate representation might be ‘death by a billion pin pricks,’” she says. “Any one pin prick can almost go unnoticed . . . [but] over time, the numbers begin to add up.” Even so, Osteryoung observes, “[the problem] doesn’t have anything to do with chemistry or women.” Instead, it is a common social occurrence that can be explained by group dynamics. “If you picked North Dakotans and Texans who share an interest in cricket, and if you arranged the numbers the same [lopsided] way, you’d get the same phenomenon,” she says.

Academia “It was discouraging to know that when I went to Texas in 1976, I was the second woman in a faculty of about 50,” says Fox, “and when I left in 1998, they were again hiring a second woman.” That situation exemplifies the stagnation that academia is grappling with, despite the rising number of female chemists.

Once wereached a critical mass [of female faculty], it dawned on people thatwomen

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According to the U.S. Department of Education’s statistics, the percentage of bachelor’s degrees awarded to women (B.A. and B.S.) rose from 35.9% in 1987 to 42.7% in 1996 (the most recent breakdown available). During the same period, master’s degrees rose from 33.9 to 43.7%, and doctorates rose from 21.0 to 30.1%. NSF figures confirm this trend in analytical chemistry. In 1987, 22.9% of the doctorates in analytical chemistry went to women; in 1997, 30.2% went to women. Many of these women stay in the field. According to ACS’s 1999 membership data, at

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least 27.7% of the members and affiliates of the Division of Analytical Chemistry are now women. Yet the percentage of tenured female faculty members remains low. Across academia, only 47.4% of the women who work at universities have tenure, whereas 74.6% of the men do, according to the Department of Education’s 1998 report on faculty salaries, tenure, and benefits. Perhaps more telling, a search of the online edition of the Directory of Graduate Research indicates that only 11% of the 1037 analytical chemistry faculty listed are women. (This resource does not include all analytical chemistry professors—only those at North American research institutions who choose to be listed.) One reason for such low numbers is that, in many cases, few women apply for academic positions. This paucity of applicants doesn’t surprise Debra Rolison of the Naval Research Laboratory. “I think a very plausible case can be made that academic departments are an unhealthy—even hostile—environment for women.” Women recognize that, she says, and “vote with their feet.” Osteryoung agrees. “Women who are eligible for faculty positions have earned a Ph.D. in a chemistry department,” she explains. “They have absorbed the tone of that environment . . . and have decided they don’t want any more of it.” Rolison notes that in a Washington Post column Daniel S. Greenberg once asked why federal funding is still going to universities that did not have women on their science faculties. “Why not take it one step further?” she asks. “Why not yank the federal funding if departments don’t provide an environment that women want to be in?” In her March 13 editorial in Chemical & Engineering News, Rolison calls for Title IX—which decrees that institutions must provide equal opportunities for women or lose their federal funding—to be applied to chemistry departments. “Women are the canaries in the mine,” Rolison adds. In other words, women are the first to be affected by a generally unhealthy environment. Of particular concern is academia’s “brutal” workload. “It’s easy to feel as if you’re not spending enough time on your career,” she says. “But that shouldn’t be a death sentence for your career, which is how many people in academia feel.” Sentell recalls that feeling. She left academia in 1995, shortly after earning tenure, because her workload consumed 61/2 to 7 days of every week. Even after her promotion, she didn’t think she could cut back, lest she appear to stagnate, and her colleagues lose respect for her work. In industry, on the other hand, she still works long days, but she has time for her personal life. The women in academia have learned to cope with the load, but they point unanimously to one trouble spot: serving on committees. As Fulghum says, “The second a woman gets tenured and promoted, her committee load [within the university] goes up astronomically.” Everyone wants a woman’s perspective, but there are very few

[Women] have absorbed thetoneof [the academic] environment. . . and have decided they don?t

women available, so they are asked to serve more often than men. “It’s a serious issue,” explains Kenttamaa. “They are sacrificing people’s careers to fill these [quotas].” Again, the solution seems to be to hire more women. Larsen says she used to have the same problem at Dupont, but now that there are more women, the committee load is better distributed. Because UCLA has a higher-than-usual percentage of women—9 women out of 49 chemistry faculty—many women look to the school as a role model. As Garrell sees it, the main difference is simple, even if it is profound: When there are many women, working with women becomes very ordinary. “Once we reached a critical mass, it dawned on people that women aren’t all the same,” she says. “Nobody gets treated like ‘the woman faculty member’. People deal with each other as colleagues.” And because students interact with a variety of women, they learn that “they don’t have to subsume who they are to some idea of what it means to be a woman in chemistry.”

Academia in Europe At first glance, academic life in North America may look better than in Europe. For example, Kenttamaa says she found many more opportunities for women in science after moving to the United States in 1983. In her native Finland, she recalls, men would stop at her office door and ask her to make coffee for them. Verpoorte, who moved from Canada to Switzerland, comments on one European manager who questions women about their plans for starting families. She says she is amazed, because nobody can ask those questions in North America. “I’m also pretty sure it’s less acceptable [in Switzerland] these days,” she adds. On the other hand, both Lopez-Avila, who came from Romania, and Daunert, who came from Spain, were surprised at how few women they found in American science. In the end, North America and Europe are probably in the same boat. Although about half of the university students who study science are female, the numbers drop off sharply afterward, resulting in very few women at the upper levels. Women in Europe are just as aware of the problems—and just as concerned—as women in North America. Wysocki recalls how angry the women in one European audience were when an American moderator made an offhand “Isn’t that just like a woman” remark. “I spent the rest of [my time] there answering questions about whether the U.S. is as bad as Europe,” she says. The European Technology Assessment Network (ETAN), which recently took a comprehensive look at European science, documented tremendous variation in the numbers of female faculty by country (4). In Turkey, for example, 21.5% of the full professors in science are female. Next comes Fin-

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land (18%), Portugal (17%), France (13.8%, the same as the U.S.), and Spain (13.2%). At the bottom of the list are Austria, Germany, Switzerland, Belgium (each with 6% or less), and the Netherlands (5%). The report also noted that women are consistently paid less than men. To address these problems, many countries are actively encouraging women. According to ETAN, Portugal has been particularly successful. At the University of Lisbon, for example, nearly 31% of the full professors of science are female, and women hold ~45% of the principal investigator posts at three new national research institutes. Finland also has made impressive strides. In 1998, the country eliminated the rank of associate professor and promoted everyone to full professor, which increased the women in the upper ranks from 13 to 18%. In addition, the law was amended to require that government committees, advisory boards, and other bodies must be 40% female. Even the prestigious Research Council on Natural Sciences and Technology (RCNST) now has 30% female membership. Yet there are still some problem areas. Marja-Liisa Riekkola, head of the Laboratory of Analytical Chemistry at the University of Helsinki and an RCNST member, says Finland recently has turned its attention to the five-year professorships at universities, which are offered only by invitation. A recent accounting shows that, although these invitations are becoming increasingly popular, they are rarely issued to women.

Dual-career couples In addition, women are disproportionately faced with the two-job problem. Almost twice as many female chemists as male chemists (38% vs ~21%) are married to other scientists, according to ACS’s 1995 comprehensive member survey. For those couples, job hunting often means waiting for the rare opportunities when two positions become available. In the meantime, they live apart—in some cases, maintaining separate residences for years. Garrell and her husband, for example, spent four years on opposite coasts before she was able to move west, and the two became the first faculty couple in the chemistry department at UCLA. Similarly, Susan Olesik and her husband spent six years in a nationwide search for a place where both of them would have satisfactory positions before he finally joined her at Ohio State University. Traditionally, many universities have been reluctant to hire both partners as full professors, and some women say


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that, because of that attitude, they were asked to take staff positions despite having tenure-track credentials. “Previous women had done that, so the schools didn’t see any problem with it,” says one woman. Another woman recalls that one of her references refused to write a recommendation letter because he didn’t think a husband and wife should be on the same faculty. But recently, some universities have warmed to the idea of hiring husband–wife teams. For example, three couples now work in the chemistry department at UCLA, according to Garrell. “I think it was a significant change in people’s thinking,” she says. “[They began] viewing it as an opportunity, rather than something to be avoided.”

Balancing children and work Another major concern of women is balancing family responsibilities and work. Even with a spouse who shares the load, they say it is an enormous task. Consider the challenges posed by attending a conference. Women have brought sleeping infants to talks, alternated sessions with their husbands, brought babysitters on trips, and paid up to $100 a day for babysitters provided by the conferences or hotels. Cindy Larive of the University of Kansas says leaving her children at home was even harder. Sometimes, she would fly to another city, deliver a talk, and fly home the same night. “I’ve done that on numbers of occasions,” she admits, “and about fallen asleep on the road.” But she adds that things got easier as her children got older. “Some meetings are fairly friendly toward kids now,” Larive says. “They’ve sat through talks and visited expositions, and we’ve had some good times.” Why go to such trouble? Because the pace of science,

nancy was “one of the most stressful things I’ve ever done!” That was eight years ago, and the university didn’t have a maternity-leave policy, she says. It was also about a year before her tenure review. One colleague had already commented on the “stupidity” of an assistant professor in another department who had become pregnant. The response to her? “At first, it was dead silence,” she says. After her daughter’s birth, Olesik says she was told to take medical leave but refused. “I was still running my research group,” she explains, “so I had no thoughts that I was on medical leave.” Eventually, she and her department chair agreed that she would not teach for one quarter. After eight weeks at home, she put her daughter into day care. In the end, she credits her department for handling the situation fairly and adds that, much to her relief, she earned tenure on schedule. In fact, none of the women interviewed for this article think that having children held them back, although they had feared it. Some women even see academia as a flexible environment. “My kids have come to work with me, and it’s never been a problem,” says Larive, adding that several men have done the same thing. “It’s an asset that academia offers.” Kim Prather of the University of California–Riverside agrees. She has brought her son to work several times since returning from a quarter-and-a-half of maternity leave. “I was a little naive about how much work having a baby and a career would be,” she admits. But she says her department was very accommodating when her husband, a staff member, decided to drop to part-time work so he could stay home with the baby. However, the women interviewed agree that there is room for improvement in academia, particularly when it comes to day care. For example, when Daunert had her children, the University of Kentucky’s day care could only look after eight children total. Olesik says she and her husband even chose their house partly on the basis of its proximity to their daughter’s off-campus day care. In industry, on the other hand, convenient day care is common—and sometimes, it’s even subsidized. “It’s just good business sense,” says Kaiser. “Employees are happier when they have day care onsite or close by.” Europe is also ahead of American academia in this respect. Daunert remembers it being easier to balance family responsibilities with an academic career in Spain. “It was a little bit more relaxed atmosphere,” she adds. “Although it is changing. Every time I go there, I see that people are working more and more.” Diaz-Garcia agrees that Spain—and probably Europe in general—is more accommodating because of the maternity-leave laws. “Women who took time off have been able to continue their careers after that period in practi-

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especially at U.S. universities, means people can’t take time off. “If I’m out a week, I feel I’m behind,” says Daunert. “Imagine taking maternity leave!” It’s not hard to understand, then, why many women fear that having children will delay their promotions. Indeed, Sentell recalls that, when she was in academia, even men who assumed many of the child-rearing responsibilities in their families were often left behind when it came to promotions and appointments to prestigious boards and committees in their fields. Olesik remembers that telling her division of her preg-

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cally the same way,” she says. But even in Europe, the question of children can be a trap. Diaz-Garcia notes that, in Spain, more men have been hired into industry because maternity leave means that “women are not considered as ‘profitable’.” In addition, Verpoorte recalls applying for a permanent position with a company after finishing her postdoctoral term in Switzerland. She was told that the first available position had been given to a man because he had a family to support. “At the time, I accepted that explanation, [but] I must admit my attitude has changed,” she says. She suspects that, if she’d had a family, it would not have been seen as a reason to give her a job more quickly. In fact, at some companies, it would have made getting a position more difficult.

The future When looking toward the future, some women focus on the steps that young women can take in their own careers. Many women emphasize the importance of mentoring. “Reach out,” advises Mabrouk. “There are lots of women

in the field now, and most of us are more than glad to help.” Learn to fight for what you deserve, says McGown. “And if that doesn’t work, be willing to move.” That isn’t always easy, she admits. “I had to give up tenure when I moved. But you have to take risks,” she says. Rolison says to learn to toot your own horn. “Tell your colleagues about your neat results,” she says. “Don’t assume that they’re keeping track.” And don’t worry about being considered abrasive, she advises. “I’ve been called a bitch, but I don’t consider it an insult.” Others emphasize the role that the community can play. “I like hearing people talk about building the careers of women in science,” Fenselau says. This is a very proactive approach, she says, that goes beyond supporting women and recognizing their achievements to include strong networking on their behalf—in other words, sponsoring them. Even better, says Osteryoung, universities could hire more women. Still others bring up the lack of racial diversity, which Costello calls a much more glaring problem than women’s issues. “It’s not unusual to have a group in which there are no African Americans,” she says, “and if you have more than one or two, it’s exceptional.” Kenttamaa, who has had several African American women in her group, agrees, saying that some of the problems described by women are even worse for racial minorities. “We need to keep working on these issues not only to encourage young people,” Fenselau urges, “but also because we want science to be strong.” Fox suggests a way to start: “Perhaps,” she says, “departments should ask how their women are doing.”

References (1) (2) (3)

(4) (5)

A Study on the Status of Women Faculty in Science at MIT. The MIT Faculty Newsletter, 1999, 11 (4). MIT’s Study of Its Own Gender Bias Is Attacked as “Junk Science”. Chronicle of Higher Education, Jan 7, 2000, A14. The tally of ACS awards includes five top-level awards: analytical chemistry (begun in 1948); chromatography (1961); separations science and technology (1984); mass spectrometry (1985); and spectroscopy (1997). Also counted were five Division of Analytical Chemistry awards: spectrochemical analysis (1987), chemical instrumentation (1955), electrochemistry (1988), excellence in education (1983), and the young analytical chemist’s award (1996). In several cases, awards were not given in certain years. In other cases, awards went to multiple recipients in a single year. Wennerås, C.; Wold, A. Nature 1997, 387, 341–343. European Commission, Research Directorate-General. A Report from the ETAN Expert Working Group on Women and Science: Science Policies in the European Union. http://www.cordis.lu/improving/src/hp_women.htm (accessed Feb 2000).


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Women in Analytical Chemistry Speak. | Analytical Chemistry

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