Over the course of my degree in math, I’ve had quite a few experiences with discrimination. Most of these were instances of students, people in my year, who would say rude things about me, or confront me in bars on weekends, or spread rumors about me to my peers. While detrimental to my mental health in first year, this explicit homophobia was something that I had learned to deal with in the past, and was something that I was able, more or less, to shrug off.Â
Later into my degree, I found a far more sinister manifestation of this same discrimination. The men I trusted as my educators and mentors would often be short with me during office hours, ignore my requests for meetings, or be generally unaccommodating in ways that I expected them to based on what my peers had experienced. Of course not every man in Math acted this way, but the few who did left a lasting impression on me, and it has changed the way that I interact with my professors, and even what subjects I find interesting. Mathematics seemed to me like an “old boys club”, and the comradery that other men in my program got to enjoy seemed inaccessible to me.
Luckily, around my third year I found some guidance under a female professor, and her close peers that helped me to understand that I had potential, and forced me to confront my apprehensions about my abilities that other professors and people in my program had imparted on me. This person has truly changed my life and improved my self worth, and to them I am forever grateful. Despite this happy ending, there is still one experience that I had at a conference that I find myself thinking about often.Â
Over the summer, I went to a conference (I won’t specify which one to keep this somewhat anonymous) that invited undergrads to attend lectures by their peers, and to attend some keynote lectures put together by amazing professors. Coincidentally, the same female professor that I previously spoke about was scheduled to give one of they keynote speeches (and it was amazing!). Another particularly good speech was given by another female professor on a topic in number theory, and it interested me enough that I wanted to speak to her after her talk. I didn’t get a chance after her talk because she had somewhere to be immediately afterwards, but there was a gender diversity panel later in the week that featured her as one of 5 guest speakers, so I decided to attend that and speak to her afterwards.Â
Many things happened during that panel that honestly deserve their own post, but at the end, the professor I wished to talk to and another woman that raised some excellent points were sitting next to each other, so when the panel ended, I went up and began speaking to both of them. Both of them had talked about how important finding a mentor in math is, especially someone who can help you to grow personally, and who treats you as an equal. This has obviously always been a problem for women in math, and so I wished to speak with them about how I had tackled the same problem, and had found some refuge under the previously mentioned female prof.Â
The woman who I had intended to speak to the day before was younger and very quick witted, so I was exited to hear her opinion on the intersection of our experiences with men in math. The other was and older woman who had already moved away from academia and into an industry job, where she struggled to have her male peers treat her and an equal, and thus had dealt with a lot of self doubt early in her career, as I was, and so I wanted to ask her how she dealt with it and what she would recommend I do.Â
The conversation started lighthearted, and we joked about how rude some of the audience members had been. I expressed my views on how math has become an “old boys club” and how difficult it is as a gay man to find common ground with most of my male professors, which makes it difficult to find mentorship and advance my career. The older woman nodded and agreed with me; she had experienced the same thing, which had ultimately driven her to pursue a private industry career. The younger woman politely waited for me to finish, and then said something which completely crushed my spirit. She looked me in the eyes and said “It shouldn’t be so bad though because it’s a lot easier to be gay now, and it’s not like it’s something that others know unless you tell them.” I had poured my heart out to this person, and she essentially denied that I had any claim to discrimination based on the fact that you “can’t see gay”. Â
The older woman was quick to come to my defense, and cited numerous times in the last 5 years that she had heard her boss be openly homophobic, as well as peers that she had previously worked with in academia. Despite her interjection, I was so embarrassed that I had asked this person for advice, only to be told that my problems don’t exist, that I simply smiled, said “thank you for your time, this was a great panel.” and left.Â
The problem with homophobia in STEM is that in most cases it is covert, much like sexism. Though I may not be considered “visibly gay” (whatever that means), I still am gay, which is and always has been a barrier to my success. Striking up personal connections with men in Math will always be harder for me personally because I can’t share many details of my personal life for fear of being “discovered”. It is impossible to forge a meaningful connection with someone when you fear what they will think of you when they learn about who you really are. I have found some refuge with the incredible women in Math (and men believe it or not) that I am grateful to have the opportunity to know, but after the conversation I had following the panel at this conference, I’ve become a little more apprehensive about everyone I speak to. I am so lucky to have found a mentor, and someone I can trust. It was the knowledge that I have at least one connection in the Math department, and that she has been remarkably kind to me, that kept me grounded in that moment. Â
So, for anyone wondering how to deal with the crippling self doubt that comes with being LGBT in STEM, I have some advice. Find a mentor, or someone that you can trust in the department that you’re in. Having someone in your corner at all times can do wonders for your self esteem, and can open a lot of doors for you that would be inaccessible otherwise. Despite what I’ve been saying, don’t be afraid to open up to people as well. Once you find someone you can trust, it’s possible to use that relationship to grow emotionally. I spoke to my mentor about how I was nervous to present some of my research to the grad students during a seminar, and she reassured me that my work was valuable, and that I shouldn’t get caught up in my minor mistakes at the board as much as I should be painting a broader picture for people to follow, and let them worry about the tiny details. This has improved my public speaking ability tremendously, which is amazing considering I’ve been terrified of it for years. Don’t be afraid of personal relationships, they can be your greatest weapon in your fight to be recognized for your abilities.Â
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