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Director's
Outlook
When Climate Change Is a Good Thing
By Caryn McTighe Musil, Director of the Program on the Status
& Education of Women
Association of American Colleges & Universities |
According to the National Academy of Sciences, global
warming is occurring and is cause for alarm. By contrast, in the world
of women and academic science, warming the chilly climate has been
a good thing. It has increased the number of students studying science,
technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) and helped retain
more women teaching in STEM fields. But as this issue of On Campus
with Women demonstrates, icebergs still threaten past progress
and future possibilities.
Ten years ago in 1995, I commissioned a monograph for
AAC&U's Program on the Status and Education of Women. It
was called Warming the Climate for Women in Academic Science,
and authored by Angela B. Ginorio, then director of the Northwest
Center for Research on Women at the University of Washington. In that
volume Ginorio surveyed what the research revealed about girls and
women along the STEM pipeline. She identified and documented blockage
points as well as interventions that enhanced the likelihood that
girls and women would be attracted to and succeed in the sciences.
It is fitting that we use this issue of OCWW
to reflect on what has occurred during the intervening decade, a period
of time that, when measured by the lives of undergraduate students,
encompasses two and a half generations of men and women going through
our colleges and universities. That, in turn, translates into a similar
generational pattern of students opting into—or out of—careers in
science.
The Conscientious Gardner
Ginorio opened her monograph with a powerful allegory that is retold
in the accompanying box. It tells the story of a series of gardeners,
all of whom love plants and are committed to amassing the most spectacular,
impressive collection for their common conservatory. But the plants
fare differently. Some thrive, others languish, and still others die.
At first the gardeners assume the problem is with the plants. But
then they begin to question whether the problem might be with how
they have constructed the conservatory and tended the plants. The
first gardener explains, "I treat them all the same,"
while the second one explains, "I only feed and water the ones
that are thriving." The third one says, "I try to provide
what each plant needs." Only under the care of the third gardener
do all the plants flourish.
Higher education's progress in tapping the talents
and promise of women has been marred or accelerated according to which
gardener's philosophy triumphed. The accumulated research distilled
in Ginorio's monograph identifies what have become consensus
understandings today about how to increase the number women who graduate
with STEM degrees, go on to graduate school in STEM fields, and decide
to enter the STEM workforce.
First, the academy needs to affirm that science needs
women, women across all colors, classes, and categories. Then it needs
to be sure that K-12 is encouraging girls in science and challenging
them with ever increasing degrees of rigor at every level. All along
the way, high expectations by parents and teachers matter, as do role
models and mentors. Hands-on, student-centered, group work in the
classroom—in which students are asked to apply their knowledge to
real world issues—attracts and retains not only women, but formerly
science averse men as well. Each of these pedagogies is, of course,
a hallmark of the best in a 21st century liberal education.
Collecting both qualitative and quantitative institutional
data about science students and faculty that is disaggregated by race,
gender, and when possible ethnicity and class, is essential if one
expects to map trends and detect slippage in progress. This data needs
to be collected through courses in departments as well as through
larger programmatic units and divisions. Only when MIT women scientists
amassed such data in 1999, for example, did they prove to themselves,
their colleagues, and the higher education community that it was not
a case of isolated, anecdotal discrimination but a systemic pattern
of gender discrimination in such things as the allocation of lab space,
economic and material resources, and graduate student research assistants.
As Ginorio stresses, a warm rather than chilly climate
affects persistence, engagement, retention, choice of major, and choice
of career. The climate includes all factors in the experience of women
students in higher education: the classroom, the advising, the department,
peers, the dorm, the campus at large, the president.
Three Steps Forward, One Step
Backward—and Sometimes Four
Because of all the research and reform work in the sciences from K-16,
we have seen remarkable progress over the last decade, as this issue
of OCWW illustrates. But we also see surprising backsliding
and continued areas of intransigence. If higher education has evidence
of what works, why aren't more institutions adopting these practices?
Why have some patterns of discrimination persisted for
more than three decades—or the equivalent of seven and a half
generations of students? Why the salary gap between women who head
STEM departments and men? Why the continuing salary gap across gender
in the science fields? Why do women advance more slowly than men in
science? Why has the percentage of women in computer science, math,
and engineering decreased in recent years? Why are women spread so
unevenly across the STEM fields? And why do women of color continue
to be less represented in the sciences proportionate to their numbers
overall?
And why do we read in Anny Morrobel-Sosa's article
that she still is accumulating all those "firsts" and
"seconds": the first tenure track woman in chemistry at
the University of Alabama, the second tenure track female ever hired
in the College of Engineering at California Polytechnic State University?
As the national catastrophe of Katrina taught the world,
there is a difference between possessing knowledge and applying it.
And there is a difference between applying it comprehensively and
applying it in patterned unevenness. When the latter happened, 20,000
people of a particular and predictable kind ended up stranded for
four days without food, water, medical care, or protection. In this
rare case, they were actually filmed in their stark deprivation with
the entire globe as their witness.
Directions for the Second Decade
As we mark the beginning of the second decade since Ginorio's
Warming the Climate in Academic Science, what are some things
higher education might do to melt those dangerously submerged icebergs
and propel the good kind of climate change on college campuses? And
how do we begin to do the next generation of work that has barely
been initiated: altering not just the bodies in science, the pedagogy,
and the climate, but the very content and methodology of STEM courses?
How do we begin to introduce more global learning into the framework
and practice of the sciences? And how do we begin to make a clearer
case that excellence in the sciences, both its practices and its scholarship,
is dependent on diversity?
Part of the answer lies in the three B's rather
than three R's.
BE INTENTIONAL
Higher education leaders, department chairs, faculty, staff, and students
will need very deliberately to adopt a kind of intentionality that
AAC&U's Greater Expectations monograph calls for.
Intentionality seeds a clear alignment of goals with pathways to those
goals, of aspirations with practices, and careful, self-conscious
implementation of what has been proven effective.
BE INSTITUTIONAL
To sustain the multi-level and multiple kinds of practices that evidence
proves are successful, institutions will need to begin to implement
reforms comprehensively, simultaneously, and in coordination with
one another. Some of the institutional work includes issues as diverse
as the improvement of K-12 science teaching, admissions outreach for
diverse students, campus climate issues, advising, course and department
pedagogy and content, and salary equity. It cannot be happenstance
and haphazard if progress is to be made.
BE DISRUPTIVE
Most of the default methods of educating women in the sciences simply
have not worked. Too often, they operate like the first and second
gardeners in Ginorio's allegory. Treating everyone the same
or rewarding only the strong ones produces just those patterned gender
and racial inequities that remain so entrenched. It was by disrupting
the typical way of educating girls and boys and women and men in sciences
that significant changes occurred over the last three decades.
Strategic, coordinated, and sustained institutional
interventions that are informed by a gender and racial analysis have
unblocked that pipeline for women in science, improved all student
learning in science, and made science itself—the questions it
poses and the way it answers them, all the better. "I try to
provide what each plant needs," the conscientious gardener answered.
| An Allegory |
Imagine that academia is like a plant
collector intent on cultivating plants from diverse kinds of
climates in an excellent conservatory.
Facilities are built, employees are hired, and field collectors
are contacted to obtain the best and most diverse specimens.
The field collectors go out to their respective locales and
secure the very best specimens they can find, and then prepare
them carefully for the long trip back to the conservatory.
When they arrive, some of the plants look weakened by the
transport—but most look healthy. The plants are quickly
placed in sites that were prepared for them. But soon after,
mysteriously, many of the plants begin to wilt. After a while
some look as if they won't survive. Concerned, the collector
wonders, "What's wrong with the plants?" The
field collectors answer the query. "The plants were carefully
selected as the best specimens in each of the sites."
Still puzzled, yet determined to find out what is wrong with
the plants, the conservatory staff calls the transportation
company: "Did some thing happen on the way?" They
learn that, indeed, for a few of the shipments the conditions
were colder than ideal, and that one shipment was not watered
consistently.
While the staff is processing this information, some plants
start to die. Pressed by the urgency of the situation, the chief
collector calls a meeting and for the first time asks, "Is
it something we're doing?" The collector then asks
each of the gardeners, "How do you care for the plants
you are responsible for?" The collector receives three
kinds of answers. "I treat them all the same," says
the first group, which represents the majority of caretakers.
"I only feed and water the ones that are thriving. Why
waste resources?" responds a second group of caretakers.
The third and smallest group replies, "I try to provide
what each plant needs."
When the collector examines plants under the care of each group
of employees, only the plants given the third style of care,
the responsive style, are all flourishing.
Warming the Climate in Academic Science (1995), p.
1, Angela Ginorio
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