Do I Prefer Speaking about Science over Women in Science?

Presenting at the Ivy Space Coalition, April 6, 2019

“Would you prefer speaking about science over women in science?”

The question was posed to me at the the Ivy Space Coalition conference two weeks ago immediately before giving a keynote talk on women in STEM. I knew the answer, but the question surprised me and I didn’t know how to articulate it. I had been invited to speak about women in STEM and I had written a passionate speech about my own experiences as well as the experiences of other underrecognized women in space. I was gearing myself up to give the talk and was determined to do an excellent job.

But yes, I would prefer speaking about science. I wish I didn’t have to speak about women in science as a separate category from all people in science. But that’s not the world we live in.

I used to believe the categorization set us apart and contributed to the problem. I used to get annoyed at the focus on minorities, believing that if we stop separating everyone out, minorities wouldn’t face as much discrimination. Yes, I used to be so naive.

As a teenager and undergraduate student, I did not see or recognize sexual discrimination in science or in the workplace. As a white person, I did not experience racism, so I didn’t understand the focus on race relations. It was only by maturing that I began to understand the focus on minorities wasn’t causing discrimination, it was recognizing and speaking about discrimination that already exist.

Pretending something doesn’t exist and refusing to put words to a problem doesn’t make the problem go away. As a woman in science, discrimination against women affects me whether I recognize it or not. And thanks to inappropriate and unfair behaviors of a few, it’s now impossible for me not to recognize it in my own experiences,

Over the past few years as I’ve grown in my career and become more independent, I’ve grown bolder in speaking out about sexual discrimination and lack of diversity in the space sector. I focus my efforts on supporting women (especially young women) and calling out the lack of representation when I see it. This has attracted attention, including negative attention by those who preferred the status quo. But I will not be silenced. I will only speak louder to counter the voices of negativity and oppression that still exist in our society.

This is why I was chosen to give the keynote address on women in STEM at the Ivy Space Coalition. This is why I happily accepted. This is why I poured my heart out into a speech which revealed personal details of my experiences and made me vulnerable in front of strangers.

But do I prefer to speak about women in STEM? No. I want to talk about space. I want to discuss my vision of moving humanity closer to the heavens and exploring the mysteries of our Universe. I want to explain my analyses of the space industry and speak about my expertise in planetary science, human spaceflight, and space policy.

But I am a woman and I will always be judged for being a woman. And so I will happily add my voice to the discussion about being a woman in STEM and lift up the voices of other women. I will continue to speak until our collective voices become so loud they echo among the cosmos forever and can no longer be ignored.

Is this a Spaceman or an Astronaut? Gendered Language

On Wednesday, the 60^th anniversary of the launch of Sputnik, I was reading a Space News article about the event. One line stood out to me: “Space would be a place where the new man of the future, the communist man, would live, explore and create.” I immediately pictured a towering, heroic man resembling Yuri Gagarin preparing humanity’s way to explore the cosmos.

I realized something about myself just then. My initial instinct is to take words literally. If the word is “man”, I picture a man. If the word is “manned” as in manned spacecraft, I picture a man or men in a spacecraft. An instant later, I correct myself. I know better intellectually. The speaker or writer didn’t literally mean man the majority of the time, they meant human. But by that point, it’s too late. The image of a male has already formed in my head.

Am I the only person who thinks this way, I wondered? Does everyone else in the world instantly translate “man” as “human”? Or are there others whose first instinct is to literally imagine or interpret “man” or “manned” as a man or men?

I took to social media for an unscientific poll on the matter. I asked my mostly-space-involved Twitter audience and mostly-not-space-involved Facebook audience the following question and offered the following choices:

If I say "manned", what is your IMMEDIATE 1st impression/image?

1) a man

2) a woman

3) men and women

4) gender-neutral human

Of 106 responses on a 24 hour poll on Twitter:

42% voted gender-neutral human

32% voted a man

26% voted men and women

0% voted a woman.

Of the 11 responses on Facebook, 100% voted gender-neutral human.

So altogether, with 117 votes:

47% voted gender-neutral human

29% voted a man

24% voted men and women

0% voted a woman.

From this (unscientific) poll, I came to two conclusions:

First, I’m not the only one who literally thinks “a man” as an immediate first impression. A bit more than a quarter of the respondents think the same way I do. Unreasonably extrapolating this out, it’s possible a quarter of the English-speaking population forms the image of a man in their minds when reading about manned spaceflight, spacemen, unmanned, man-made, and other gender-specific terms.

Second, the majority of people don’t think this way. This may explain why transitioning from gender-specific terms to gender-neutral terms (e.g., manned spaceflight to human spaceflight or crewed spaceflight) is unimportant to some people. For most people who use gender-specific terms when they mean the gender-neutral equivalents, it’s a habit from years past, a slip of the tongue, or a concept that never occurred to them. But for some, they just don’t see the big deal in using gender-specific wording. Maybe in their minds, everyone automatically knows “man” means human. They may even think the emphasis on gender-neutral language is overly politically correct.

This week, I was introduced to a friend-of-a-friend whose first-grade-aged daughter wants to be an astronaut. But for some reason, despite knowledge of female astronauts, this girl thinks only boys can be astronauts. The mom said when they search for astronauts online, they find mostly male images. This could be because most astronauts have been men. This could also be because the general perception of “astronaut” in popular culture is male or for boys.

Since becoming a mother two years ago, I see the deep and widespread sexism in baby and child marketing from birth onward. Space-themed baby or children items are almost always labeled for boys. What impact does this gender-labeling of space, combined with gender-specific terms such as manned spaceflight and spaceman, have on the quarter of the population who literally forms an image of a male astronaut in their minds when hearing these terms? Is it enough to turn off a space-loving first grader who may go forward in life thinking a space career isn’t for her because she’s a girl?

Words matter. Word choice may not matter to you or to the majority of the population. But it may make a difference to others who think and process language differently than you do. I caught myself just today saying “congressmen” when I meant “members of congress” as a slip of the tongue. I recognize the changes I need to make within myself to be more accurate and inclusive in my language. Change comes from within ourselves first.

Space is for Boys? Sexism Starts in Infanthood

In my final months of pregnancy with my first child, I've been very focused on preparing for our newest addition, including registering for and purchasing baby items. A month ago, I was casually browsing through a Toys R Us / Babies R Us location in Orlando. I was not looking for anything in particular. Being a space geek, space-themed merchandise grabs my attention. Unfortunately, so does sexism. I was so surprised to see a space-themed bib by Muchkin, Inc. labeled as a boys bib that I immediately tweeted a picture.

My tweet was ignored, so the next day I wrote a letter to Toys R Us, Inc. in Wayne, New Jersey.

To whom it may concern,

I am a mother-to-be with my first child, a girl. I have created a gift registry via Babies R Us. Yesterday, I was browsing the Babies R Us location in the Waterford Lakes area of Orlando, Florida and noticed something unexpected in the labeling of your merchandise.

My education is in astrophysics and planetary science and I work in the space industry in Cape Canaveral, Florida. Although my astronomy and related classes were nearly 50% female, the space industry as a whole is largely male-dominated. I mentor young women pursuing science and engineering careers. One of the largest battles still being fought is equality in the industry. I'm happy to note that with each generation, the prevalence of sexism decreases, but it's still present and a hindrance to myself and other females in the space industry.

This is why I was surprised to see a space-themed baby bib by Munchin, Inc. at Babies R Us labeled as a boys item. The bib features rockets, planets, and stars. Having studied rockets, planets, and stars, I can tell you that there is nothing gender-specific about any of those images or concepts. There is nothing about this bib that makes it a boys item except for the Babies R Us labeling. I did not extensively examine other Babies R Us merchandise to note if other space-themed items were labeled in such a way. I would be greatly disappointed if they were.

If Babies R Us continues to sell space-themed merchandise as boys items, subtle messaging for parents and children alike, is it any wonder that boys will grow up thinking that space-related aspirations are for them and that girls will grow up thinking that space pursuits are for boys and that girls are meant to strive to become princesses? Both children and parents are susceptible to these kinds of labels that subtly discourage girls from a path that is marketed to boys. Why is Babies R Us promoting this kind of sexism in space-themed merchandise? Why is Babies R Us promoting any kind of sexism, including blue and pink color gender identifications? My daughter's beach-themed nursery is turquoise.

I kindly ask that Babies R Us in Orlando and other locations reevaluate its gender-specific labeling policies. In this area, your competitors are ahead of you. As a woman in the space industry who guides younger woman in the space industry and who will raise my daughter to believe that she can strive to be anything she wants to be, please stop promoting the limitation of girls by sexist labeling practices. Please help me in my goal to raise my daughter and others' daughters in a society that raises them up to limitless aspirations as we raise them.

Thank you for your time,

Laura Forczyk

Unfortunately, Toys R Us has also failed to respond to my letter. I did not set out to find sexism in their stores. Sexism jumped out at me and I had to respond. The Munchkin Roll and Go Bib that Babies R Us has labeled for girls has a pattern of pink, purple, and red fruit. In no one's mind is fruit gender-specific to girls, yet that's their label. Why?

Although I would love it if Toys R Us followed in Target's footsteps to remove gender labels from all toys, but I don't expect that. What I do expect is that space-themed merchandise should be marketed to girls as well as boys. And I don't mean that Munchkin should recreate their space-themed bib in pink. Their current bib is just fine for boys and girls, just remove the sexist label.

Yes, I am a Woman: Sexual Discrimination in the Space Industry

This topic has been in my head since my friend Talia bravely published her story a couple of months back. As a woman in a male-dominated career, I have experienced sexual discrimination. Most women have. My experience hasn't been as dramatic or damaging as others', but it has had a small impact on my career and the way I conduct myself. I don't have a jaw-dropping story to share, just little experiences that have added up over the years.

This is a delicate subject to write about. The vast majority of the people I've worked with have not treated me unfairly because I'm female. Only a select few stand out in my mind as examples of sexual discrimination to share. I still have good working relationships with the majority of the men I will write about here, which makes life all the more interesting.

I've learned that older men either lose their inhibitions or have lived most of their lives in a world where being openly flirtatious with women in a professional environment was normal. I can't count how many older men (usually above 70) have called me terms of endearment such as sweetie and commented on my appearance. These comments and mannerisms are often easily dismissed as being cute, even if inappropriate.

I was a leader in a professional organization with a much older man (somewhere around 90) on the leadership team. I don't believe that he meant any harm, but he was so flirtatious in his emails, phone calls, and in-person interactions that I ended up blocking his phone number, deleting his non-business emails, and limiting my interactions with him in person. The bombardment of unwanted attention only stopped when I left the organization.

A recent encounter with a flirtatious older man in a professional setting annoyed my husband a great deal, reminding me how much I encounter this kind of situation and shrug it off. In our few hours together, this man repeatedly commented on my looks and lightly suggested an intimate encounter with him and his wife involving me, while standing next to his wife, which made me uncomfortable for her sake as well as mine. When I shared this story with my husband, he was disgusted and asked me how a man could take me seriously as a professional when making comments like that.

Powerful older men are the boldest. One such man came on directly to me for several months, holding the promise of job prospects over my head, suggesting that we have dinner together at some point, just the two of us. I very much wanted the job and I respected the man professionally, viewing him as a role model. It wasn't until he consumed a little too much alcohol at an industry party, asked me why I hadn't yet found “Mr. Right” (I was single at the time), and made me promise to go out with him sometime to tell him my story did I realize that I needed to step back. Dinner never happened and the job never happened. Although I still see this man fairly regularly and still respect him professionally, I know that I could never work for him. A year later, when he commented to me that a colleague and I were “two beautiful and talented young women” who got away from him because he didn't hire us, I had to roll my eyes and inwardly laugh.

A well-known powerful man I still regularly interact with and respect a great deal as a role model gets the award for being the boldest. I was able to laugh this one off pretty much immediately. Alcohol was involved, as was a late night, as was my naivety. We were attending a conference and deeply involved in a conversation late one night. Others kept approaching us and interrupting, so we decided to call it a night and walked to the elevators together. Once in the elevators, he asked if I wanted to continue our conversation, and I very much did. So we went into my room. Yes, I'm very naive about men. I was in a “professional at a conference” mindset, not in an “inviting a man into my hotel room” mindset. He immediately tried to kiss me. I stopped him with a knee-jerk, “No, you're married,” response. And then we sat down and continued our professional conversation! And we never spoke about it again.

More serious is the sexual discrimination that affects my career negatively. A previous job had an “old boys” network that would have held me back had I stayed there longer. I noticed how it affect a coworker before I noticed how it affected me. She's a highly intelligent, highly educated, hard-working woman who had been around for a while. I couldn't understand why she wasn't more highly respected and promoted. Management seemed to treat her one step up from a new-hire, a much lower status than her skill set, work ethic, and longevity merited. And then my eyes opened, especially after she confided to me a story of sexual harassment by a professional VIP who we worked with: she wasn't treated with as much respect as she deserved because she is a woman.

Then I began to note how I was treated, especially compared to male colleagues. The contrast was striking and disturbing. In one small instance, I spoke up about how I felt. I had given my professional opinion on a topic a few times over several months and had been ignored. An older male colleague brought up the same topic, though he knew nothing about it, and suddenly it was a shining idea that no one had ever thought of before. I mentioned that I had brought it up several times already and was surprised that no one remembered, and I was treated like a little child with a “there there” pat on my head. I began to notice that my opinions, ideas, and aspirations were widely ignored or belittled. I can't say for certain that this was due to sexual discrimination versus culture, but regardless, I needed to move on.

And then there's the inappropriate language that pops up in professional conversation. I recently had a lunch meeting with a man who others regard highly. (For the record, I don't see what they see in him.) I do not get offended by the use of colorful language, but I do note people's choices in using such language. Early in the conversation, he stated that he hates space “with the passion of a thousand burning cunts.” My internal reactions were: 1) Why are you working in the space industry if you hate it so much, and 2) Why would you think that it's ever appropriate to use that kind of language in a professional conversation?

Although my experiences thus far have been relatively tame compared to some, I still felt the need to speak out. Small-scale sexual discrimination in the space profession is the norm and those who experience it needn't be embarrassed to admit it. This will continue to change over time. It's better now than it was, and it will improve in my daughter's generation. I will note with surprise that I can't think of an example of outright sexual discrimination in professional circles with men of my own generation, which is an impressive statement. Kudos to the men of all generations who treat professional women with the respect and dignity that we deserve.

Early Motherhood in a Majority Male Professional World

One thing I didn’t grasp from all my reading was that first trimester pregnancy can take the life out of you. I pride myself in being a very productive person, but pregnancy cut down my productivity by greater than half. For several weeks I had to adjust to living all day every day feeling horribly sick and unreasonably exhausted. I got done what little I absolutely had to, then resigned to sleeping long hours, vegging out watching Netflix, or if I was unusually alert, reading through book #3 of the Game of Thrones series A Song of Ice and Fire.

Even now at the end of my first trimester, I’m feeling more myself, but nausea still comes and goes. Increasingly common afternoon or early evening naps are my new reality. But I am feeling more energized, which means I get to catch up on things that I should have done a month or two ago that got pushed to the bottom of the to-do list, including write in this blog. It’s quite embarrassing digging up tasks and topics from early April when the symptoms began, but better late than never.

Entering this new stage of my life, I now wish that maternal issues would be discussed more openly in our culture. It seems that we largely ignore maternity unless we are directly impacted by it. I’m guilty of this as well. Although I’ve wanted children for years in an undefined future time, I didn’t pay much attention to it until now when my circumstances changed.

I hesitated to professionally announce my pregnancy. I didn’t know if I would be taken less seriously as a professional woman. I’m female and I have the blessing/curse of looking younger than my years which leads to the constant struggle to be heard and respected, a problem which plagued me in previous jobs. So far, everyone I’ve told has been very supportive and excited for me. In the months and years to come, I’ll remain the same intelligent, competent professional I am now and will hopefully continue to grow in my roles. But will I be respected when I’m bulging 8 months pregnant or when I have a crying infant to care for?

I spent all breakfast this morning thinking of all of the strong, successful women who I personally know and look up to in my industry. The vast majority of them are childless. A few are mothers to grown children. After a long while, I could only think of two – yes, two – mother role models in my profession who have children at home. Shocked at the rarity, I instantly wrote them appreciative notes. It’s hard enough to be a woman in a male-dominated industry, but to be a woman who is also a mother to young ones, and to still be successful – hats off to you!

Surprisingly, not many of my female peers are mothers, though there are a few. The importance of supporting not only young females in my field, but young female mothers especially has become apparent to me. Outside of my professional circles, I only have to look toward my own mom as a role model of a strong, successful mother. The feminist ideals I was raised with as a child had a huge impact on my successes in life. I hope to raise my children (boys as well as girls) with these same ideals.

Thank you to all of the strong, successful professional mothers out there who pave the way for future generations to follow the paths you carved out first!