Women in Geology: Progress... or Not?
Two days ago, a male student asked whether it was all right to use the word "man" to refer to humans.
Yesterday, a female student asked whether a mining company would hire a woman to describe rock cores at a remote camp in Alaska.
A bit of context for both situations. The first one occurred during my geology writing class. I've asked the students to watch out for confusing sentences as they do their reading for other courses, and we've been discussing one or two a week. This week, a student brought me the National Environmental Policy Act, and we were trying to rewrite the first paragraph. Well, actually, it's also a single sentence, which is at least part of the problem. But in any case, the act talks about "man's impact on the environment," and in the process of dissecting and revising the paragraph, one student asked if we should say "human" instead of "man." I told them, rather tongue-in-cheek, that it depended on the audience: don't use "man" to mean "human" in a feminist studies class. But, although it didn't quite get to the root of the problem with the writing in NEPA, it was a serious question. And it was interesting that a male student brought it up.
The second occurred before a talk by a mining geologist who was recruiting about ten entry-level geologists for work in Alaska. The geologists would live at the drilling site, which is accessible only by helicopter, for some significant period of time. One of the male students, who makes a point of being as politically incorrect as possible, referred to the mining camp as a "man camp," where he would be able to be as obnoxious as he liked. The other students in the conversation were all women, including one senior who was interviewing for one of the jobs. And one of the students - I think one of the sophomore women - asked whether the company would ever send a woman into a position like that. I told them, jokingly, that I didn't think the company could discriminate... and that the woman could carry a gun. (I also told them that I had been the only woman in field parties before, and hadn't had a problem. I joked that I had made it clear that I wasn't interested, and that they shouldn't mess with me... and besides, it was Alaska, and I had had a gun.)
I was taken a bit aback by the second conversation. I mean, here we are in 2007. A male geology professor from the East Coast recently told me that he didn't think that women were really an underrepresented group in geology any more; in most East Coast geology departments, there are more women students than men. Although our department is still dominated by men, this particular conversation included four women geology students and a woman geology professor. As far as I know, the women had never learned to question their ability as scientists -- at least, not because they were women. And the women are good geologists; the mining company would be lucky to have any of them as an employee. And yet... here were students asking questions that I thought were outdated twenty years ago.
When I was a college student in the 80's, it seemed as if the male domination of science was rapidly becoming a thing of the past. There was a tenured woman professor in my department, and at least half the students were women. I thought I had left the bad old days behind in my redneck high school and had entered a wonderful, enlightened world where I could study differential equations and hammer on rocks and nobody would bat an eyelash.
Then I went to geology field camp, where I was one of three women (in a group of 20). The male students told me that all geologists were assholes, so I shouldn't expect anything better from them. I was a bit shocked. But when the time came for our professor to nominate students for the USGS internship program, two of the three nominees were women.
The next year, I was invited to a rather posh dinner sponsored by NSF. I was one of three new NSF graduate fellows who were among the guests. A male student represented physics and Princeton, and a woman from Guam represented biochemistry and MIT, and I... I think I represented every other science and every institution that was not on the East Coast. I was completely out of place at this dinner; I didn't own a dress that was even remotely appropriate for the occasion, and I looked hopelessly tacky next to the gorgeous, sophisticated biochemist. But the people in charge of the seating arrangement kindly seated me next to a geologist.
The geologist, unfortunately, was a jerk. Someone described him as a "ladies' man" (wink wink, nudge nudge). When I talked about my interest in field geology, he described the good old days when women were not allowed in the field with men, because, well, you know what would happen. Fortunately, I was also seated beside a woman who had graduated from Smith, and she had the good sense to engage me in conversation before I smashed my glass of wine over the geologist's head. (Somehow, that might have detracted from the celebration of Diversity in Science that our table seemed intended to represent.)
And now it's the 21st century. And male students wonder whether to use "man" to refer to humankind... but women students still wonder whether they will be allowed to do field work in Alaska.
I'm curious. How much has the world changed?
Poll Is geology still a male-dominated profession?
(You can define "red state" and "blue state" any way you like -- I'm just using that as a shorthand for regional differences in the US. Feel free to comment if you think that, say, Austin and Houston are completely different environments.)
Yesterday, a female student asked whether a mining company would hire a woman to describe rock cores at a remote camp in Alaska.
A bit of context for both situations. The first one occurred during my geology writing class. I've asked the students to watch out for confusing sentences as they do their reading for other courses, and we've been discussing one or two a week. This week, a student brought me the National Environmental Policy Act, and we were trying to rewrite the first paragraph. Well, actually, it's also a single sentence, which is at least part of the problem. But in any case, the act talks about "man's impact on the environment," and in the process of dissecting and revising the paragraph, one student asked if we should say "human" instead of "man." I told them, rather tongue-in-cheek, that it depended on the audience: don't use "man" to mean "human" in a feminist studies class. But, although it didn't quite get to the root of the problem with the writing in NEPA, it was a serious question. And it was interesting that a male student brought it up.
The second occurred before a talk by a mining geologist who was recruiting about ten entry-level geologists for work in Alaska. The geologists would live at the drilling site, which is accessible only by helicopter, for some significant period of time. One of the male students, who makes a point of being as politically incorrect as possible, referred to the mining camp as a "man camp," where he would be able to be as obnoxious as he liked. The other students in the conversation were all women, including one senior who was interviewing for one of the jobs. And one of the students - I think one of the sophomore women - asked whether the company would ever send a woman into a position like that. I told them, jokingly, that I didn't think the company could discriminate... and that the woman could carry a gun. (I also told them that I had been the only woman in field parties before, and hadn't had a problem. I joked that I had made it clear that I wasn't interested, and that they shouldn't mess with me... and besides, it was Alaska, and I had had a gun.)
I was taken a bit aback by the second conversation. I mean, here we are in 2007. A male geology professor from the East Coast recently told me that he didn't think that women were really an underrepresented group in geology any more; in most East Coast geology departments, there are more women students than men. Although our department is still dominated by men, this particular conversation included four women geology students and a woman geology professor. As far as I know, the women had never learned to question their ability as scientists -- at least, not because they were women. And the women are good geologists; the mining company would be lucky to have any of them as an employee. And yet... here were students asking questions that I thought were outdated twenty years ago.
When I was a college student in the 80's, it seemed as if the male domination of science was rapidly becoming a thing of the past. There was a tenured woman professor in my department, and at least half the students were women. I thought I had left the bad old days behind in my redneck high school and had entered a wonderful, enlightened world where I could study differential equations and hammer on rocks and nobody would bat an eyelash.
Then I went to geology field camp, where I was one of three women (in a group of 20). The male students told me that all geologists were assholes, so I shouldn't expect anything better from them. I was a bit shocked. But when the time came for our professor to nominate students for the USGS internship program, two of the three nominees were women.
The next year, I was invited to a rather posh dinner sponsored by NSF. I was one of three new NSF graduate fellows who were among the guests. A male student represented physics and Princeton, and a woman from Guam represented biochemistry and MIT, and I... I think I represented every other science and every institution that was not on the East Coast. I was completely out of place at this dinner; I didn't own a dress that was even remotely appropriate for the occasion, and I looked hopelessly tacky next to the gorgeous, sophisticated biochemist. But the people in charge of the seating arrangement kindly seated me next to a geologist.
The geologist, unfortunately, was a jerk. Someone described him as a "ladies' man" (wink wink, nudge nudge). When I talked about my interest in field geology, he described the good old days when women were not allowed in the field with men, because, well, you know what would happen. Fortunately, I was also seated beside a woman who had graduated from Smith, and she had the good sense to engage me in conversation before I smashed my glass of wine over the geologist's head. (Somehow, that might have detracted from the celebration of Diversity in Science that our table seemed intended to represent.)
And now it's the 21st century. And male students wonder whether to use "man" to refer to humankind... but women students still wonder whether they will be allowed to do field work in Alaska.
I'm curious. How much has the world changed?
Poll Is geology still a male-dominated profession?
(You can define "red state" and "blue state" any way you like -- I'm just using that as a shorthand for regional differences in the US. Feel free to comment if you think that, say, Austin and Houston are completely different environments.)