I am continuing to work on the Letters to Our Daughters Project. I have requests out to some fantastic scientists, but people are also beginning to take note of our humble little project. A few weeks ago I received this email from today's letter writer:
My clever, successful daughter pointed me to your site. I am a retired, Australian scientist with two clever, successful daughters and one son (two have PhDs in science and one is a lawyer - family joke - she also has degrees in science and some post-grad qualifications). I now also have a daughter-in-law who did her teaching degree as a mature-age student. I have just been reading the wonderful letters. I was inspired by the comments about academic family-trees to think about writing one to my academic daughters (various relationships, one which I call Being a Muse). Would you like this? If so, how do I get it to you?We corresponded a bit and my answer was, of course, YES! In talking to her I have decided to respect her wishes to contribute pseudonymously because I don't think it detracts from her advice. I've had her letter for a few weeks, and I've clung to it a bit selfishly. You see, in the light of recent events in my own life, it was exactly the advice I needed to hear. Here, I will simply refer to her as "d."
d. worked as a chemist and lecturer (as she describes, the Austrralian equivalent of Professor) at an Australian university before her retirement and is a Fellow of the Royal Australian Chemical Institute. In conversation I learned that her proudest accomplishment is her three children. She has won several awards for teaching excellence and now, in retirement, volunteers to do hands-on science activities with young children in her community.
d. sent me two versions of her letter -- an original and then a second which she described as "toned down." I think you can imagine which I chose to share with you.
Here is her letter:
To my dear Academic Daughters,
G'day from Australia, to Isis and the Rest of the World.
Dedication
After that sad start, I'm going to cheer you up by talking about sex, and then about expunging feelings of guilt. Regina would have been happy about both of those themes.
Firstly, a little scene-setting.
(a) I'm addressing this to my academic daughters as specified by the project guidelines - but I'd rather be addressing it to all my academic children - so if you are male, and reading this, please don't feel embarrassed if it applies to you, too. Emotions, dreams, ambitions, fear of failure, and feelings of persecution by 'the system' are universal emotions. I have seen the identification and open discussion of these issues since the 60s help women to take their rightful place in the scientific society, but I have also seen some men who have felt repressed and uninspired and 'left out', just as some women have been.
(b) My use of the term 'academic daughters/children' encompasses my own two daughters, one son and one daughter-in-law. They are not excluded in this letter, but they don't need the advice, either. (OR they have already heard it multiple times). They have all now surpassed my experiences in their own fields of endeavour (s) and they are all in the position to be writing letters of advice to ME, rather than the other way around. Anyway, my correspondence to them during their formative years seemed to consist of lists of chores to be completed after they got home, and before their parents got home. If these 'notes' were not on the kitchen counter, they complained that their after-school life deteriorated into chaos and argument. I guess they achieved some useful purpose because we are all still talking to each other, albeit via the wondrous electronic networks. Recently, one of my 'other academic daughters' (friend of a biological daughter, now with kids of her own) told me that, when she visited, she got a real thrill if her name was also on the list of chores. She saw it as an acknowledgment that she was a valued part of the family.
Secondly, SEX.
As I was contemplating a theme for this letter, I read the morning newspaper (online of course) in my retirement, in my little hermit hideout at the Centre of the Universe in a place called Werombi, on the very edge of the suburban fringe in Sydney, Australia. The article was entitled "Girls not taught skills to resist sex pressure" by Elicia Murray, May 19, 2009, Sydney Morning Herald (Australia).
It was a summary of research findings by pediatrician, Dr Rachel Skinner, that were to be presented that day at a Royal Australasian College of Physicians conference. The part that interested me was this quotation: "Girls who recalled their first time in a positive light were happy about when it happened and with whom. The longer intercourse was postponed in a relationship, the more likely girls reported feeling ready."
In this way, sex is like a science career. (There may be other similarities, too, that will not be discuss in this article. Isis has already called me 'a whacky Australian' once, and once is enough for now.)
Postponement of something that may reap huge rewards is beneficial because you leave your options open for as long as possible, and thus are more likely to be happy with the way you were able to make your final decision. A science career is hugely rewarding, no matter what aspect you choose to concentrate on. The longer you study different areas of science, and talk to people and find mentors (if you can) and read about others' careers and look at the different ways 'science' is used in our society, the more informed choices you can make later, and the more you are likely to be satisfied with the choices you make.
All the things I have mentioned in that previous paragraph have already been written about by more eminent scientists, in other letters on this blog site. I suggest you read those letters, too.
Thirdly, GUILT.
Actually, I want to talk about the LACK of guilt. Guilt is a feeling I have had far too often during my variegated and various mini-careers. I now like to advise my academic children, if they feel a little guilt coming on, to look in the mirror, and say three times, in three different ways, the following mantra:
" I must NOT feel guilty.
I MUST not feel guilty.
I must not feel GUILTY."
When have I, myself felt guilty? On reflection, I think it is at the times when I have felt pressured to do something that was a sideline to what, in my heart, I thought should be done. It can be as simple as going into the sunshine and weeding the garden, when I thought the family would prefer a clean house. It can be as momentous as not spending as much time in the lab to complete my late-career PhD as I thought people wanted me to (and they said this is what I 'should' do and 'should' enjoy doing); when in actual fact I was making huge strides in helping non-science students understand some chemistry, and was really relishing that aspect of my work. And I was also needing to rush home to collect the kids/weed the garden and/or clean the house/cook dinner.
So what is my advice, when (not 'if') you find yourself in a similar position? Use your science training. Collect all the evidence, analyse it, make an interpretation, evaluate what you have so far, then make a conclusion.
The 'evidence' is that you have made choices in the past that have led you to your current position. With hindsight, you may have made a different choice - but at that time YOU DID NOT HAVE THE BENEFIT OF HINDSIGHT, and you made the very best choice with the information you had THEN. The 'analysis' step is to recognise this, and recognise that you cannot change it (even if you are now not really happy - you won't ever be happy all the time, and chances are you would not have been any happier now if you had made a different choice). The interpretation is to make amends WITH YOURSELF and give yourself permission to make whatever choice you need to make NOW between what 'needs' to be done, what you think others think you 'should' do, and what you would really 'like' to be doing. Only you can make that choice, minute by minute. The evaluation is to NOT FEEL GUILTY - recognise, again, that YOU are making a choice, for perfectly valid reasons (and it MAY be that a student is standing at your office door crying, or that the child-care centre is closing in half an hour; but they are perfectly adequate reasons to make a choice; it is not always going to be possible to do whatever you 'like'). And the conclusion is to reflect on the things you have been able to experience along your own, individual, unique journey in life; reflect on how you have learnt new things and grown and maybe helped others along the way; reflect that you CANNOT HAVE IT ALL. No-one can. Even those other successful women you hear talk on the radio who seem to have it 'all' would be found to be lacking in some area, if you could probe their lives a little further. They just have achieved 'different' things, and they would probably envy some of the things YOU have achieved or experienced, that they have not.
And the final take-home message?
My dearest daughters, learn to trust your own judgment.
** I hope you find satisfaction (if not 100% enjoyment, all the time) in following whatever career (or, like me, several mini-careers) YOU choose, and I hope selfishly that this involves the use of science in some way, to benefit society.
** Try to wait as long as you can before making career choices (and life-choices), and then, later, try to remember that you made these choices with the best information you had available at the time, and you would probably do the same again without hindsight. As a result of this reflection, DON'T FEEL GUILTY about what you choose to do, even if it is quite different from what other people choose, or what others tell you that you 'should have' chosen.
All the best, you are now free to start where I left off and go a bit further than I did,
Lots of love,
your own Mum, d.
G'day from Australia, to Isis and the Rest of the World.
Dedication
This piece is dedicated to Regina, one of my academic daughters who called me 'Mum' (Australian for 'Mom'). This confused the students in the teaching lab at the time, because she and I were obviously of very different ethnic backgrounds. Although I was never her direct research supervisor, she was a student in the multi-disciplinary lab where I was supposed to spend more time. Regina was an extremely talented TA on my award-winning teaching team that specialised in teaching chemistry-to-students-who-hated-it (ie. non-chemistry majors). She also possessed amazing organisational skills, which were a great help to the more common variety of absent-minded academics in the various places she has worked. Regina was the same age as my son. She died of cancer in October 2008, leaving a wonderful husband (also part of my academic family) and a darling 2-yr-old daughter. Scientifically, she left the legacy of some scientific papers that she proudly, but with difficulty, got around to writing up.
Regina, I am very proud of you.
After that sad start, I'm going to cheer you up by talking about sex, and then about expunging feelings of guilt. Regina would have been happy about both of those themes.
Firstly, a little scene-setting.
(a) I'm addressing this to my academic daughters as specified by the project guidelines - but I'd rather be addressing it to all my academic children - so if you are male, and reading this, please don't feel embarrassed if it applies to you, too. Emotions, dreams, ambitions, fear of failure, and feelings of persecution by 'the system' are universal emotions. I have seen the identification and open discussion of these issues since the 60s help women to take their rightful place in the scientific society, but I have also seen some men who have felt repressed and uninspired and 'left out', just as some women have been.
(b) My use of the term 'academic daughters/children' encompasses my own two daughters, one son and one daughter-in-law. They are not excluded in this letter, but they don't need the advice, either. (OR they have already heard it multiple times). They have all now surpassed my experiences in their own fields of endeavour (s) and they are all in the position to be writing letters of advice to ME, rather than the other way around. Anyway, my correspondence to them during their formative years seemed to consist of lists of chores to be completed after they got home, and before their parents got home. If these 'notes' were not on the kitchen counter, they complained that their after-school life deteriorated into chaos and argument. I guess they achieved some useful purpose because we are all still talking to each other, albeit via the wondrous electronic networks. Recently, one of my 'other academic daughters' (friend of a biological daughter, now with kids of her own) told me that, when she visited, she got a real thrill if her name was also on the list of chores. She saw it as an acknowledgment that she was a valued part of the family.
Secondly, SEX.
As I was contemplating a theme for this letter, I read the morning newspaper (online of course) in my retirement, in my little hermit hideout at the Centre of the Universe in a place called Werombi, on the very edge of the suburban fringe in Sydney, Australia. The article was entitled "Girls not taught skills to resist sex pressure" by Elicia Murray, May 19, 2009, Sydney Morning Herald (Australia).
It was a summary of research findings by pediatrician, Dr Rachel Skinner, that were to be presented that day at a Royal Australasian College of Physicians conference. The part that interested me was this quotation: "Girls who recalled their first time in a positive light were happy about when it happened and with whom. The longer intercourse was postponed in a relationship, the more likely girls reported feeling ready."
In this way, sex is like a science career. (There may be other similarities, too, that will not be discuss in this article. Isis has already called me 'a whacky Australian' once, and once is enough for now.)
Postponement of something that may reap huge rewards is beneficial because you leave your options open for as long as possible, and thus are more likely to be happy with the way you were able to make your final decision. A science career is hugely rewarding, no matter what aspect you choose to concentrate on. The longer you study different areas of science, and talk to people and find mentors (if you can) and read about others' careers and look at the different ways 'science' is used in our society, the more informed choices you can make later, and the more you are likely to be satisfied with the choices you make.
All the things I have mentioned in that previous paragraph have already been written about by more eminent scientists, in other letters on this blog site. I suggest you read those letters, too.
Thirdly, GUILT.
Actually, I want to talk about the LACK of guilt. Guilt is a feeling I have had far too often during my variegated and various mini-careers. I now like to advise my academic children, if they feel a little guilt coming on, to look in the mirror, and say three times, in three different ways, the following mantra:
" I must NOT feel guilty.
I MUST not feel guilty.
I must not feel GUILTY."
When have I, myself felt guilty? On reflection, I think it is at the times when I have felt pressured to do something that was a sideline to what, in my heart, I thought should be done. It can be as simple as going into the sunshine and weeding the garden, when I thought the family would prefer a clean house. It can be as momentous as not spending as much time in the lab to complete my late-career PhD as I thought people wanted me to (and they said this is what I 'should' do and 'should' enjoy doing); when in actual fact I was making huge strides in helping non-science students understand some chemistry, and was really relishing that aspect of my work. And I was also needing to rush home to collect the kids/weed the garden and/or clean the house/cook dinner.
So what is my advice, when (not 'if') you find yourself in a similar position? Use your science training. Collect all the evidence, analyse it, make an interpretation, evaluate what you have so far, then make a conclusion.
The 'evidence' is that you have made choices in the past that have led you to your current position. With hindsight, you may have made a different choice - but at that time YOU DID NOT HAVE THE BENEFIT OF HINDSIGHT, and you made the very best choice with the information you had THEN. The 'analysis' step is to recognise this, and recognise that you cannot change it (even if you are now not really happy - you won't ever be happy all the time, and chances are you would not have been any happier now if you had made a different choice). The interpretation is to make amends WITH YOURSELF and give yourself permission to make whatever choice you need to make NOW between what 'needs' to be done, what you think others think you 'should' do, and what you would really 'like' to be doing. Only you can make that choice, minute by minute. The evaluation is to NOT FEEL GUILTY - recognise, again, that YOU are making a choice, for perfectly valid reasons (and it MAY be that a student is standing at your office door crying, or that the child-care centre is closing in half an hour; but they are perfectly adequate reasons to make a choice; it is not always going to be possible to do whatever you 'like'). And the conclusion is to reflect on the things you have been able to experience along your own, individual, unique journey in life; reflect on how you have learnt new things and grown and maybe helped others along the way; reflect that you CANNOT HAVE IT ALL. No-one can. Even those other successful women you hear talk on the radio who seem to have it 'all' would be found to be lacking in some area, if you could probe their lives a little further. They just have achieved 'different' things, and they would probably envy some of the things YOU have achieved or experienced, that they have not.
And the final take-home message?
My dearest daughters, learn to trust your own judgment.
** I hope you find satisfaction (if not 100% enjoyment, all the time) in following whatever career (or, like me, several mini-careers) YOU choose, and I hope selfishly that this involves the use of science in some way, to benefit society.
** Try to wait as long as you can before making career choices (and life-choices), and then, later, try to remember that you made these choices with the best information you had available at the time, and you would probably do the same again without hindsight. As a result of this reflection, DON'T FEEL GUILTY about what you choose to do, even if it is quite different from what other people choose, or what others tell you that you 'should have' chosen.
All the best, you are now free to start where I left off and go a bit further than I did,
Lots of love,
your own Mum, d.
Environment
Physical Science
Comments
Great LTOD. "d" has obviously learned one important lesson - if you talk about sex, you'll get them in the door!
Guilt is a huge issue for women. I never hear men feeling guilty for a business trip or a late meeting; it is their job. They may wish they were home, but they don't feel guilt.
I felt guilty about working for a bit. My kids have gotten old enough to tell me that they are glad I had my career, cause a happy mom is better than a psychotic mom any day...
Posted by: Pascale | June 23, 2009 11:24 AM
Right on, Pascale. My mom went back to school for a PhD at an older age, when we three kids were 7 through 12 years old. I think she suffered a lot of guilt because of her religious upbringing and because of the conservative place we lived, both of which told her that she should be in the kitchen baking cookies when we got home from school. In reality she set the best example for us I can think of. I loved going to visit her office on campus and sometimes sitting in on the classes she taught. Watching her go through the dissertation writing and defense process was an amazing lesson in strength and perseverance. All three children now have advanced degrees, I'm sure in large part due to her example. I hope by now she knows that we wouldn't have wanted to grow up any other way. (And yes, we DO tell her all the time!)
Thanks, d., for a lovely letter.
Posted by: Asphericity | June 23, 2009 11:43 AM
...I think I need to print this out and staple it to my forehead.
give yourself permission to make whatever choice you need to make NOW between what 'needs' to be done, what you think others think you 'should' do, and what you would really 'like' to be doing.
If I could pull this off on a regular basis, I'd be a much happier camper.
Posted by: Cathy W | June 23, 2009 12:09 PM
I love the description of academic families. It is such an apt way to describe those rewarding relationships that go beyond the mentor/advisor/professor label.
Thank you for sharing, d!
Posted by: madkathy | June 23, 2009 12:15 PM
Just what I would have written, if I were as talented as Aussie Mum! NO GUILT. All you brilliant moms/women/(and men, too) are making decisions based on your own particular lives at the moment - and they will be the best decisions you can make with the information you have. Hooray for Isis' chicks!
Posted by: Mimi | June 23, 2009 12:24 PM
What a wonderful letter indeed, and great advice. I haven't read all the previous ones, but I think I'll make time for them this weekend.
I've been harbouring some heavy guilt/regret all year (though most of the time I can keep it under control), because I chose to keep working abroad when we found out we're pregnant last Christmas. I do know with total certainty that it was the right decision to make (and she agrees), for my career and the family's future livelihood, but the fact that my dear wife is back home alone, working and experiencing her first pregnancy - what should be OUR first pregnancy - does get me second-guessing quite a bit. So for me, this letter was a fairly timely reminder not to be too hard on myself.
Now I'm just counting the days till July 29th, my flight back home, 4 weeks before the due date.
Thanks for this, Goddess & d.
Posted by: InkRose | June 23, 2009 1:30 PM
As the oldest postdoc in my lab, I sometimes feel that I am too far behind all my peers. After reading your letter, I remember that all those years I spent before grad school were important, valuable learning experiences. When I doubt my current career path I need to remember that after all the distractions I still came back to science, and therefore it must be where I was meant to be. This is what I needed to hear today. Thank you, Mum d.
Posted by: Tina | June 23, 2009 1:36 PM
I'm sorry for the casual observation, but I was immediately turned off by the pseudonym(pseudoletter?), "d." One letter names strike me as pretentious. Lower-case, more so. Lower-case and with punctuation, well... It tempts me to just shut down.
You could argue that it's more poetic than that, that it calls to mind mathematical notation, that "d." is herself a variable in a chaotic world and- no. Still distracting to me.
Posted by: Lobster | June 23, 2009 2:32 PM
Wow, what great advice. As the oldest in my lab, and at least a year or two from starting a PhD program, I need regular reminding that all those choices made in my teens and twenties got me here, albeit by a circuitous route. Thank you d!
Posted by: Danielle | June 23, 2009 2:40 PM
This link has probably been provided in an earlier post, but the Royal Society here in the UK have just produced a booklet called Mothers in Science (link to the PDF is at the bottom of the page), which is aimed at inspiring people in a similar way...
Posted by: JHB | June 23, 2009 4:12 PM
Absolutely wonderful letter! I am choosing a different career path after my PhD that what many people believe I "should" do, and it's hard to deal with sometimes. Hearing advice like this really puts things into perspective. Thank you, d.!
Posted by: MCH | June 23, 2009 5:15 PM
G'day from Australia. It was wonderful to wake up this morning my time to find all your supportive comments. I had no idea that there were little clones of my family all over the world, I thought we were odd-balls and a bit strange. You have all warmed my heart.
Regarding the pseudonym. The reason for lower case is purelaziness - by the time I have poured my heart out writing something, I simply can't be bothered with a long signature, or even the damn shift key. The reason for the letter'd' is that I have been using that single letter as my signature since I wrote to pen-friends when I was 8 years old. I'm guessing that is long before many of you were born. That letter dominates my formal given name, my maiden family name and the nickname my family uses. And yes, I am a diminutive person, so maybe the psychological analysis is correct, so thanks for the insight. But I'm retired, totally eccentric and a hermit, so It is too late for me to change my habits now. The full stop (ie period) at the end is because some electronic forms don't accept just one character; and also to signify 'the end.' I don't expect people to like it. It is purely practical. And habit.
ps. I didn't even expect people to read my post with such warmth, but they have, so thanks to all those who made such heartfelt comments. GO PEOPLE, do your own thing, in your own way!!!! d.
Posted by: d. | June 23, 2009 7:15 PM
I loved this letter. I needed to hear this right now, especially not feeling guilty (I shall try your mantra) and waiting to make career decisions...very timely.
Also, with regards to: "But I'm retired, totally eccentric and a hermit..." LOL - totally awesome. d., I think you and I would seriously get along. :)
Posted by: postdoc | June 23, 2009 11:17 PM
I love the description of academic families. It is such an apt way to describe those rewarding relationships that go beyond the mentor/advisor/professor label.
We can extend this idea to "academic lineages." It's fair to say most teachers and other academics have had at least one important teacher/mentor each of their lives, a person who inspired them to be a teacher or a scholar, whom they try to emulate. I know I do, and after teaching 25 years, I hope that I have had a similar effect on my students. Anecdotal evidence suggests that I have.
In a sense, we teachers are passing the torch to the next generation, as we accepted it from the previous one. Pedagogical theories and methods come and go, subject matter constantly changes. The one constant is a dedicated, caring teacher/professor/mentor willing to give up his or her time and energy to inspire a student/mentee.
I, however, draw the line at calling my students, "my little muffins." Besides, Isis may have the copyright to it.
Posted by: wheatdogg | June 24, 2009 7:54 AM
p.s. Last night I actually had a dream that I ran into d. in a bar somewhere, and figured out who she was. She was one cool chick. :)
Posted by: postdoc | June 24, 2009 8:12 AM
Postponement of something that may reap huge rewards is beneficial because you leave your options open for as long as possible, and thus are more likely to be happy with the way you were able to make your final decision
This is something I struggle with--I'm the sort that wants a decision NOW while my husband wants to put off making a decision until the last possible minute. Having been married to him for 19 years, I've learned that there is occasionally wisdom in postponing decisions until later.
I, for one, am glad that I didn't rush into a science career right away--the jobs I had in mind at the end of my undergrad career would have been really bad for me.
Posted by: UnlikelyGrad | June 24, 2009 12:24 PM
Dear postdoc at #13, it was a great dream, I would love to meet you, but it really was a dream. Hermits rarely go to bars. I must have been visiting family in the States, do you think? Thanks for the compliment, I've never been called 'cool' before. d.
Posted by: d. | June 24, 2009 6:10 PM