Academic Mama

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#MeToo

Image from the Women's March in Chicago

When I first saw the #MeToo posts all over my social media, I was initially a bit taken aback that there were so many women who were sharing such personal details about their own experiences with sexual assault and harassment. I have been conditioned to ignore most sexual harassment  ("It's no big deal," "That happens to all of us!") since this behavior has been normalized in our society. I was skeptical that a campaign like this could bring about true change. I also felt exhausted thinking about the additional emotional work of hearing these stories and then reliving my own.

Is it really that important to add my own voice? Isn't just one incident or one voice enough?  And others have way worse experiences than mine, so what does it matter? I should be spending my time working/writing/researching and just moving on, rather than focusing on the past. 

But I soon felt a sense of gratitude to everyone that was brave enough to share their personal story and confirm what we females really already knew -- sexual harassment and assault is unfortunately rampant in our society. It has been our entire lives and it needs to stop. As a mother of a daughter who could someday experience this, and a son who I can teach to always, always respect others ("no means no! Not maybe, not later, but no!"), it is time to speak out.

Yes, like nearly all women I know, I have also been a victim of sexual harassment various times in my life. While I won't go into the graphics or personal nature of all of these here, I think it's important to recognize that the academic environment is in no way immune to these traumas. Just one example - as a student, I was physically groped by a professor during his office hours while I was seeking help on a homework set. I left the office quickly and was in shock. I feared backlash because that very professor was the one assigning my grade that semester. I did anonymously report the incident to another departmental faculty member (also male) that I thought I could trust, but nothing happened. I eventually finished my degree and moved on, feeling frustrated that this person was still in this position potentially abusing others but feeling like I had no other recourse.  It seems like these incidents are rarely discussed among the victims, myself included. There is fear of professional ruin, where scientific reputations are crucial for success should someone dismiss your concerns or complaints. This is particularly worrisome for students and trainees, who are clearly in a position of limited power. 

Sadly, these reports are not uncommon, but they are seemingly well conceived by universities and/or perpetrators. While the national prevalence of sexual harassment and violence in academic settings is unknown in the U.S., research estimates that ~23% of undergraduate women experience some kind of sexual violence during college. A recent news article from Science published the accounts of multiple women who were sexually harassed as post-doctoral fellows while on a research expedition with their mentor. Other women in academics have come forward in telling their personal stories about the difficulties in doing research in male-dominated labs, and the consequences of standing up for themselves (hint: it typically does not end well for the victim, given the "pyramid scheme" nature of academia, where we rely a lot on our mentors to connect us to future opportunities). 

As a recently promoted Associate Professor with tenure, I am finally in a position of a little bit more power and with the safety of at least knowing I am unlikely to lose my job over telling my own personal stories.  To the rest of the brave women who have overcome this fear of public retribution, especially those who are not in positions of power, thank you for leading this path. I stand on the shoulder of giants and women who are braver and stronger than I am. This week was the first week that I really reflected on all of the incidents that have occurred to me, especially the worst grievances, and realized that while I previously blamed myself in part ("Maybe I shouldn't have had that second drink, did I send mixed signals? Was my "no" not forceful enough?"), it wasn't my fault, and I am not alone.

And while perhaps it's more difficult to address some of these incidents, I feel particularly impassioned to do something more about this problem in the academic world. I intend to take actions, immediately.  I will : 1) report my incident (now >10 years ago) to that institution's departmental leadership after I confirmed this week that he is still a faculty member at the institution -- if this happened to me, it likely happened to others, 2) stop blaming myself for the numerous incidents that have occurred, and convince other victims that they shouldn't feel blame either, 3) dedicate time to finding resources to help ensure my son is raised to respect all people and teach my daughter how to address what will unfortunately be something she will likely have to face in her lifetime as well, and 4) do my part in academics to try to prevent this from happening by speaking out about this issue and using my voice to help amplify any experiences that other women, especially students or junior faculty members, are facing. 

Do you have any experiences with sexual harassment or assault in academics? If so, I hope you'll join me in voicing your own #MeToo, if you find this to be as empowering a movement as me.  If you have any resources for how we can address this issue to help our children's future generation, please share in the comments.