On Becoming a Woman Astronomer

by Jessica Mink, Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory

A year ago, three years after I transitioned from male to female, I wrote a guest entry for this blog entitled "On Being a Transgender Astronomer", giving a sort of Gender 101, with a few stories of my own experience. At that time, I envisioned a second blog with the same title as this one, thinking that it would be written a lot sooner than this. It turns out that despite having had woman astronomers around me since I was an undergraduate and therefore thinking that I knew what I was doing, it is taking me more than a few years to become a woman astronomer. The woman astronomers I have come to know better since I changed have gone through (and in too many cases are still going through) experiences which, at my advanced age, I may never have. It seems to be a lot easier to be accepted as a woman astronomer than to truly feel like one. "Becoming" in the title does not mean that I'm there yet, only that I am working on becoming a member of that too-slowly growing demographic.

Over the past year, I've gotten more involved in the community of astronomers than I ever was before. My new involvement started in 2012 when I found out that the AAS Working Group on LGBT Equality (WGLE) was looking for a trans astronomer, and I seemed to be the most open one at the time. This led to an interview with Wladimir Lyra and Stefano Meschiar, which made me more visible in the field as a person, more than simply the author of some widely-used software. WGLE this summer became the Committee for Sexual-orientation and Gender-identity Minorities in Astronomy or SGMA, where SGM is our substitute for LGBTIQQA... This summer, I also became a member of the AAS Committee on the Status of Women in Astronomy and act as the liaison between the two committees. I joined to learn more about the issues of women in astronomy and bring a slightly different perspective to them.

Statement affirming respectful debate during current TMT protests

This was submitted to the WiA blog by leaders on diversity issues from within the AAS community. There has also been a statement from AAS President Meg Urry.

The last few weeks have brought to a head a confrontation between Native Hawaiian protesters and the Thirty Meter Telescope project. There are varied perspectives on all sides of this issue, amongst supporters and opponents, Hawaiians and mainlanders, astronomers and the general public, and all intersections of these groups. Events associated with the protests, including some cases of violence or threats of violence, have created significant divisions within our community, divisions which have manifested themselves in heated debates and discussions both in person and over social media.

Unfortunately, recent rhetoric in our community has crossed the line into racism and hostility, with language (e.g., describing Native Hawaiian protestors as a “horde” or other people of color as “snakes”) that dehumanizes individuals who oppose the placement of the Thirty Meter Telescope on Mauna a Wakea. This language is a painful reminder of past acts of violence perpetrated against native people and others, and only serves to inflame rather than bring about understanding and resolution. In many cases, apologies have been issued, and these have been appreciated. Still, that this language was used in the first place by highly esteemed members of our community is troubling, because the effects linger, are particularly harmful to junior researchers and students, and create an environment of hostility and exclusion.

Diversity 101: Nine Simple Steps to a More Diverse Astronomical Community

 

 

Today’s bloggers are Joan Schmelz (me!), Program Officer at NSF, Physics Professor at the University of Memphis, Chair of CSWA, and soon-to-be Deputy Director of Arecibo Observatory; Dara Norman, Research Astronomer at the National Optical Astronomy Observatory, Visiting Faculty Fellow at Howard University, AAS Council Member, and Alum of CSMA; and Van Dixon, Scientist at the Space Telescope Science Institute, and Chair of WGLE.

 

Mentoring Women: advice from Joan Schmelz

 

Those of us that work to make the astronomy community a more diverse place can learn from the old playbook of the senior white men who mentored a generation of junior white women, say 20 years ago. Many of these men had the best of intentions; many even hoped to make the world of astronomy a better place for their own daughters to grow up in. Some used the model of the father-daughter relationship to form the basis of the interactions they would have with their female students. Sometimes it worked – support, direction, and respect are all good components that can transfer from one dynamic to the other. Sometimes it didn’t work – hugging, love, and discipline are all components that are tricky to apply to the professional environment.

 

For those of us who do have the best of intentions, how do we navigate the diverse mentoring challenges of modern day astronomy? What can we learn from the last generation who helped white women break into the field and achieve success in numbers that now approach parity? I ask myself what advice I would have given to a well-intentioned senior white man about mentoring young women in astronomy (if one had bothered to ask, that is) back when I was a junior astronomer? Here are three simple things that any potential mentor could have done:

 

1. First, do no harm.

 

Don’t tell sexist jokes. You should never make insulting or condescending remarks about women as a group. Hint: if you think it could be insulting or condescending, it probably is. If you are a professor, be careful what you say in front of your class or to your advisees. Address both your colleagues and your students with respect. Don’t propagate old-fashioned ideas like women are too emotional or not logical enough to do science. You should never entangle your professional life with your personal life by asking your students out for coffee, beer, or dinner. Don’t touch your students on the arm or shoulder. Never hug or kiss your students. This may seem obvious and, indeed, it should be. But think of how different it might have been if everyone in the astronomy community had behaved in a professional manner. Sexual harassment and sexual discrimination would never have exploded into such damaging issues!

 

Uncomfortable conversations and my responsibility within our community

“I’m about to have an uncomfortable conversation with y’all.  I may turn red and become visibly emotional.  I apologize in advance.”  That statement is how I start almost every single one of my talks on anti-sexual harassment policies.  I know that the topic is hard for many in the room to discuss, that I may trigger an unwanted response, either in the form of a repressed thought or a negative defensive emotion, at any point in that hour.  I know that in order for those in the room with real power to hear about this topic, they need to see first-hand just how this unfortunate issue can negatively impact a person’s work, and their primary objective as a scientist. But I also know that for some people in the room, what they really want is for me to give them a hug and tell them it will be okay.  I know that my words will have a direct influence on the audience and I must act according to the level of respect and understanding every single person in that room deserves.  That’s not easy, and I know up-front that I have put myself into a position of responsibility.

The Limits of Labels, Categories, and Classifications

Today’s guest blogger is Rebecca Oppenheimer. Rebecca is Curator, Professor, and Chair of the Department of Astrophysics at the American Museum of Natural History. Her optics laboratory in the Rose Center is the birthplace of a number of new astronomical instruments designed to dissect and analyze the light from a continuously growing population of exoplanets.

 

I am a half-Jew, white, private-schooled, astronomer from the Upper West Side of Manhattan who loves exoplanets and pizza. I am quite certain I am not unique in holding all those labels. In fact I know a few others who do. Except I am also a transgender woman.

 

Human beings have had a need, since Aristotle’s fundamental writings, to label and categorize everything. It makes it easier to discuss phenomena.

 

One might, for example, examine the contentious notion of whether Pluto is a planet. The word "planet" is so loaded that few even know what the word originally meant—a wanderer among the stars, the etymological meaning of the word from ancient Greek.

Inclusive Astronomy Meeting: June 17-19, 2015 at Vanderbilt University

This guest post is composed by the organizers of the Inclusive Astronomy meeting.

We are pleased to announce and invite the participation of all to the inaugural meeting on Inclusive Astronomy to be held June 17-19, 2015, at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. Inclusive Astronomy 2015 will serve as a welcoming, strategic venue to advocate and provide resources for the inclusion in the astronomy community of: people of color; lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer, or questioning (LGBTIQ) people; people with disabilities; women; and anyone who holds more than one of these identities. Those who seek to aid in such inclusion are also invited to attend. The organizing committee includes members of the Committee on the Status of Minorities in Astronomy, Committee on the Status of Women in Astronomy, and Working Group on LGBTIQ Equality of the American Astronomical Society.

Previous successful conferences on diversity and inclusion in astronomy have primarily focused on the need for better representation of women. A key focus of Inclusive Astronomy 2015 will be on intersectionality: the well-established conceptualization that racism, sexism, heterosexism, transphobia, and ableism are linked (e.g., that women of color are faced with the intersection of racism and sexism) and that taking a one-dimensional approach to diversity does not adequately describe people with more than one of these identities. More generally, this meeting will focus strongly on diversity, equity, and inclusion of people of color, LGBTIQ people, women, and people with disabilities in the field of astronomy. 

On Being a Transgender Astronomer

Today's guest post is by Jessica Mink, a positional astronomer and software developer at the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory, who has written the commonly used software packages WCSTools and RVSAO and worked on a variety of astronomical projects over 40 years. Much of her story is told in this interview with the American Astronomical Society's Working Group on LGBTIQ Equality (WGLE). 

While I consider myself to be a woman astronomer, I have not always been one. Since I made much of my reputation with a different gender expression and remain in the field, I have to accept the fact that I am also a transgender astronomer, and as a representative of that small group, serve as an ambassador to the rest of the astronomical world.

While gradually (over 40 years!) transitioning from male to female, I have thought a lot about gender and its various facets, but when I volunteered to write a blog entry representing my gender minority for the Women in Astronomy blog, I realized that I hadn't been very systematic about it. It is likely that most readers don't have any trans* friends (that they know about), but this far into the 21st century, most thinking people are aware of our existence and might even know of one of us.