International Women's Day 2021: The realities of being a woman at the top of academia

Research has identified substantial gender imbalances in academic performance – from publications, funding, and impact – and that was before COVID-19. The pandemic has sharpened those inequities. Fewer women were called upon as experts, and there was a steep decline in research outputs by women.

With women underrepresented across the disciplines, and a lack of representation in senior roles, visibility is paramount.

This International Women’s Day, Monash’s Faculty of Education wants to acknowledge and celebrate its top-performing women researchers*, and shine a light on the struggles and sacrifices they made to get there.

PROFESSOR ANDREA REUPERT

Professor Andrea Reupert's parents were immigrants to Australia, and she grew up with English as her second language. She was the first in her family to finish school and go to university. She started her career as a school psychologist. When she transitioned to research, she was told that what academics really need is a wife. Andrea is now a pioneer in research on parents and mental health.

How has the world changed for women in academia from when you first started your career?

A lot! I have been an academic for over 20 years, and I still remember in the early days going to an ECR [early-career researcher] event, and the speaker telling us that we should “ask our wives to read over our work, to make sure it’s intelligible to a lay audience”. I remember thinking (and saying aloud), “So that's what I have been missing all these years – a wife!”

Since this time there have been various initiatives to promote and support women, but there’s still much more that needs to be done, I think, at both an attitudinal and, especially, at a systems level.

What have been the biggest challenges in your career in academia, and how did you overcome them?

The biggest challenges I faced varied depending on where I was and my stage of life (or the stage of my family). While in a non-Group of 8 university, the biggest challenge was getting on top of a heavy teaching load. When my children were young, I often felt guilty racing out of work at 3pm to pick them up from school (even though I worked out of hours to make up for it).

The youngest likes to tell the story about the time the admin person at school rang me at work, asking me to pick her up because she was ill – I couldn't, because I wasn't anywhere near the school, and to call her father. They couldn't get hold of him, so it was my problem. I told them to tell her to walk home. She was then diagnosed with pneumonia, and I felt so bad, and she continues to milk that story any time she can.

I’m pretty self-driven, have a fair amount of energy, and problems saying no, so the biggest challenge all around has been to focus on what’s important to me, to my career, and the institution. This has meant learning to say no to opportunities (it hurts to admit that), and being clear about my goals and aspirations. Balancing family and work has been a big part of that. The main way I have been able to get to where I have is by having a really supportive partner who understands and gives me space to work when the pressure is on. (He also does all the cooking, which is such a relief – for me and the kids.)

My other major challenge – and I think this is probably more related to women – is the imposter syndrome, and not feeling that I’m good enough. I definitely feel that still. Every time I make a mistake (and I do more often than I like), I tend to beat myself up about it, with lots of negative thinking and sleepless nights. I’m still working on that one. I try not to compare myself with others, and try to see mistakes as learning opportunities, but it's a work in progress.

What advice would you give to female early-career researchers who are starting out?

Contrary to the above, I would say to latch on to any opportunity you can, especially to work with others and build a profile, even in areas outside of your expertise and comfort zone. This is a sure way of learning more about your own working style, preferred collaborators, and teamwork. It also will show you what you like doing and, just as importantly, don't like to do.

It's also a good opportunity to learn how to set boundaries, especially when working in teams and ensuring everyone does their fair share and makes useful (if not always equal) contributions.

Likewise, a good mentor to support you is critical – and don't just look for someone who is nice or kind, but someone prepared to tell you that you’re on the wrong track. I’ve had a couple of those mentors who I felt bruised by their feedback, but I knew were in my corner regardless.

While an ECR, I was mentored by a senior academic at the university I was working at. He looked at my CV and said (and I quote): – “What a dog's breakfast – you have fingers in too many pies'.” It was definitely not a compliment. When I look back now, I can see what he meant, but in my defence, there was an underlying narrative across all those projects – to promote mental health. Diversifying my projects gave me so many opportunities for grants and collaborations that I would otherwise not have had. Since then, I’ve narrowed things down ... Well, until the engagement team contacts me about an exciting consultancy opportunity.

I’m pretty self-driven, have a fair amount of energy, and problems saying no, so the biggest challenge all around has been to focus on what’s important to me, to my career, and the institution.

I suppose it all depends on what sort of researcher you want to be. I like applied, useful research that has an impact in the field of mental health. I think being clear on what you like to do, and where you see your biggest strengths, is probably the best advice I can give. I wouldn't necessarily suggest following my lead into ECRs, but instead to reflect on what you want, and go from there.

For women in particular, I think it’s hard to say no, especially if asked by someone senior or prestigious – but that’s not enough reason to say yes. In those instances, think about how an opportunity might position you now and in the future.

Muddled advice, really, isn't it? But the above scenario also serves to show the two sides of this dilemma – whether to narrow your research focus or to take on everything. Either way there are wins and losses. Learning to manage your time is critical here, but also knowing when to back away – from projects that will go nowhere, or people who will take advantage of you. It's all part of the learning process; it's only because I’ve been in teams where I was taken advantage of that I know not to do that again.

Reflecting on your career, what have been your proudest moments, and why?

I was a school psychologist for 10 years before I became an academic, and I loved working with kids and making a real difference to their lives. I’m most proud when I see students take on my work in their own practice, as I can see some of those principles perpetuating to the next generation of psychologists. I was also really chuffed when the book I led won the British Medical Association President's Prize in 2015 – it was a lot of work, and brought together a huge team of international researchers.

The other thing I’m most proud of is the psych programs we offer. This has been an accumulation of my team's and my many, many years of experience working in the field, and will definitely shape psychology practice in the future.

Finally, I’m really proud of an online intervention I co-developed three years ago for vulnerable young people, which was delivered from the Krongold Clinic. This involved an accumulation of all the research I‘ve conducted over the past 20 years. The results are really positive, and the uptake has been enormous – we advertised for participants, and received over 100 applicants in less than two days.

What gender-related insights have you had from your research that have implications for our community?

My work is in the area of mental health in families. My biggest insight is how important mothers are. I get dads are important, too – but time and time again my research has shown the burden but also joy that mothers' caregiving provides, in ways that often (but not always) exceeds that of dads. A recent project I’m involved in is interviewing parents with the aim of finding how families coped (or didn't) during the recent lockdowns. One quote really stands out, when one mother said: “The patriarch is rife ... We’re are still trying to juggle it all, and it's all our responsibility.”

Women academics who are mothers really need to work out how to balance kids and work – they need to know that they can't do this alone, but that it's a system's responsibility, too. This comes down to not teaching at odd times (for example, during kids’ bath times), and making allowances for these extra responsibilities. Allowing dads to do that would also help mothers and fathers lead more balanced lives.

LAUREATE PROFESSOR MARILYN FLEER

Professor Marilyn Fleer grew up on a farm in Narrikup, Western Australia, and describes the community expectations for girls at the time as “pretty low”. She started out as a kindergarten teacher, and is now a renowned global expert in early childhood education.

How has the world changed for women in academia from when you first started your career?

Having been interviewed by Campus Review about my research as an early-career researcher, naming it as world-class research in the headlines, the chief editor sent back a team to take a photograph of me with children so the world-class research could be featured on the front page. I was so excited. When the paper came out, my research was splashed across the front page as promised, but I was told by a male academic colleague in my field that I had been featured because of how I had looked! What a put-down. I was totally shocked. I could not speak. No mention of my research. Would this happen now? If it did, would we call it out?

As a researcher early in my career, it was so challenging to be an academic living in Australia. While I didn’t have to travel overseas by boat, as my mother had done, I still had to physically commune with colleagues to find out what was going on in the world, and to find out what books and journal articles were being published. No internet. No Zoom. No remote conferences. No international collaborators. It was just so difficult to do a search. I can now do all of the above between dinner and watching the late news!

What have been the biggest challenges in your career in academia, and how did you overcome them?

Without sabbaticals, it’s difficult to develop as an academic. But the biggest challenge was the “male with a wife at home” default that was enshrined in policy in the university sector. Hardest was the expectation that for gaining a sabbatical, you had to be overseas for a full month. As a destitute early-career academic, I couldn’t afford to take the whole family for a month of hotel expenses, and I couldn’t leave my baby and four-year-old for that time. I overcame this challenge by using my frequent flyer points, gained through flights around Australia delivering keynotes (funded by conferences), to fly home after seven days. Then, as a family, we returned to the approved itinerary of my sabbatical, but we did it in a camper van, going from university to university (accommodation and travel all in one).

What advice would you give to female early-career researchers who are starting out?

The most important part of having a successful career is having the support of your family. Explaining what it means to be the partner of an academic is important to share.

Be strategic with where your publications are published. Put your best work in the highest-quality journals. Also, translate your work so that practitioners have access to it and can work with evidence.

The biggest challenge was the “male with a wife at home” default that was enshrined in policy in the university sector.

Give serious thought to what you profess. This will guide your career trajectory. It will inform you on what you need to learn and develop as you go forward in your career. It will also help you to make decisions about what to say no to, and what to spend a lot of time on.

Reflecting on your career, what have been your proudest moments, and why?

I was on my way to Copenhagen and saw a media inquiry in my emails related to my Australian Research Council Laureate Fellowship [LF]. Could I hope that I had been awarded a LF? Then, at three in the morning I was woken by a phone call announcing my success. With huge pride, and almost bursting, I was then told I had additionally been awarded the Kathleen Fitzpatrick LF – an award given to the highest-ranked LF by a woman in the humanities. I was the first in my field, as well as in education. My family said that not only was I awarded a LF, but that I had two reasonably normal children!

My awards are so important for education, for my faculty, and for my university. It gives the stage to take my research forward, and is symbolic that women in academia can punch above their weight – despite the challenges they meet along the way.

What gender-related insights have you had from your research that have implications for our community?

STEM is key for the future. A STEM-qualified workforce is comparatively highly paid, but the stats for women in STEM is worryingly low. The world is changing slowly. Young girls have the capacity for STEM, and we need to believe in them, so they can believe in themselves. This begins in early childhood. My research is contributing to system change.

PROFESSOR AMANDA BERRY

Professor Amanda Berry is a former high school teacher. When she started out as a researcher, she was one of the few women working in her field. Over her career, she’s established new approaches to research, and fostered change in science education.

How has the world changed for women in academia from when you first started your career?

Commenting on the world is a big ask, but I can comment on my world from when I first started at Monash as a lecturer in science education in 1997. The profile of science education academics was predominately male – within Monash and across Australia. Now, more than two decades since, science education in academia looks very different at Monash and nationally. There are many more women academics in science education at Monash than men (in fact, only one tenured male staff member) – and many more women across the range of academic levels around Australia, particularly at professor level.

It seems to me that there’s growing flexibility around academic roles than in previous decades – for example, that a part-time position doesn’t limit career progression, because assessment of merit is genuinely based on achievement relative to opportunity. Although equality has not been reached, we can see ongoing improvement, which is heartening. I have concerns about the amount of service work that women take on in academia that is often unacknowledged, and doesn’t seem to have changed over time.

What have been the biggest challenges in your career in academia, and how did you overcome them?

I’ve experienced many “biggest challenges” across all stages of my career. To me, academia is a series of big challenges, and learning how to navigate them is part of the challenge. Initially, it was successfully completing my PhD – trusting in myself to listen to my own voice, and to pursue an unconventional approach and topic, and trusting my supervisors’ advice that I was well on track. I overcame this gradually, as I put my work out into the “academic public” for testing, and received encouraging feedback.

Now, taking on the leadership role of Deputy Dean (Research), my challenges are concerned with how to best support the growth of our faculty’s ambitious research agenda, and yet take into account the individual needs of academics, and their areas of interest and specialisms.

What advice would you give to female early-career researchers who are starting out?

First and foremost, your CV matters. Do high-quality work, and aim to publish your good work in high-quality outlets. Don’t feel as though you need to get “quick wins” by putting out publications in low-quality journals, or other similar outlets.

Build your collaborative network. Go to conferences, meet new colleagues, and follow up on ideas that can bring your work together. Be brave to contact academics whose work you admire, or where you see potential connections. Use your conference time effectively (when you can get to conferences!). Many colleagues simply present their paper, do some sightseeing, hang around with the people they know, and go home. That’s not to say that every move you make needs to be strategic – you should also enjoy working with the people who you collaborate with.

Accept that academia is competitive and that you’ll be rejected more than accepted. There’s only a finite pot of money for research (and it’s shrinking – at least in traditional sources), and journals can only publish so many articles. There’ll always be winners and losers.

However, how you deal with this reality is important. Succeeding in academia is about creative persistence. Go for another outlet. Take on board reviewer comments, look for other sources of funding, try out a pilot version of your ideas, recognise that something may need changing, and be humble enough to do so.

Reflecting on your career, what have been your proudest moments, and why?

I was invited to join the leadership group of an international summit on science teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge (PCK) in Colorado in the US in 2012. It was a huge honour to have my work recognised in this way. The summit meeting led to the development of a new model for representing PCK, and a book that I co-edited with John Loughran (Monash) and Pat Friedrichsen (US).

The summit and book have had a big influence on the direction of PCK research globally, and led to a second summit that I led with colleagues from Leiden and Monash, at the very prestigious Lorentz Centre, in Leiden, Netherlands. I was extremely proud both to be invited to the first summit, and for the achievements that came from that summit, and to lead summit two in Leiden.

This is a wonderful example of how an international research agenda can be collectively advanced, and how building an international network of colleagues can have a real impact on your field.

Although equality has not been reached, we can see ongoing improvement, which is heartening. I have concerns about the amount of service work that women take on in academia that is often unacknowledged, and doesn’t seem to have changed over time.

The work that formed the basis of my PhD and my subsequent program of study, investigating the growth of science teacher educators’ knowledge of practice, is a central component of a new qualifying course for teacher educators at Leuven University in Belgium. I gave a keynote in 2019 at Leuven for the opening of the program. Seeing the work that was initially a very exploratory effort to study my own growth as a teacher educator become internationally recognised and serve as a basis for others’ learning makes me feel proud and humbled.

I’ve experienced a series of incredibly proud moments as Associate Dean (Research) for the faculty over the past two years. I was so impressed by the way in which we created the faculty research priorities as a ground-up, collaborative approach. I believe there was an opportunity for everyone to have their input in a genuine way, and that what we created together enables everyone’s research to be connected to our agenda.

Also, I’ve felt really pleased and proud to see our numbers of Australian Research Council applications rise, especially from mid-career women in our faculty. I’ve worked hard with the faculty research office to help create the conditions that enabled more academics to feel equipped and encouraged to aim for these ambitious grant schemes. And … I feel super-proud when my colleagues win awards, especially when I’ve nominated them!

What gender-related insights have you had from your research that have implications for our community?

One insight that I can add from my observations of research activity across various workplaces is that women seem to do a lot of the – mostly invisible – work of care and community-building in research; that’s often unobserved and unacknowledged in traditional measures of academic progress.

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR RUTH JEANES

Ruth Jeanes grew up in the UK, and was a hockey and cricket player before becoming a sports coach in a very male-dominated world. She now leads major research projects into the way sport, particularly community sport, can improve social inclusion.

How has the world changed for women in academia from when you first started your career?

I started my first academic job as a research assistant in 2002, so have been working in academia for nearly 20 years. Things have changed for women in academia in that time. The more significant thing I’ve noticed is that there is now greater acknowledgement within the university systems that women can be disadvantaged and have their progression limited by institutional structures and systems.

Acknowledgement, for example, that fewer women apply for and get promoted, particularly at higher levels, didn’t occur when I first started out. The dialogue was very much focused on [that] women were to blame for that, they weren’t as ambitious, etc.

The focus we have now on women-only promotion sessions, recognition, and acknowledgement that women wait longer to apply for promotion and proactive approaches to try and address the lack of women at [salary] levels D and E are all relatively new system-level initiatives.

Similarly, acknowledgement that there may be gaps on your CV due to child-caring responsibilities wasn’t recognised then. I vividly recall a senior academic in my first few months of working as a research assistant telling me she felt she had to return from her maternity leave three months after her baby was born to make sure she didn’t have any gaps in her track record that would disadvantage her progression.

While women still feel that concern, there’s at least now the option on most grants, job applications, probation, and promotion to indicate achievement relative to opportunity, and not have gaps counted against you.

What have been the biggest challenges in your career in academia, and how did you overcome them?

My biggest challenge, without a doubt, was when I returned to work after the birth of my second child, and she wasn’t sleeping for more than two hours at a time any night. I’d had eight months of sleeping in 90-minute blocks and then tried to return to full-time work. To be on top of all the various aspects of academic life was tough. I’ve never felt exhaustion like it! Sleep school worked miracles, though. I can’t explain the overwhelming relief I felt when I was able to get longer blocks of sleep again, and my work game definitely picked up!

My second-biggest challenge was moving to Australia to take up a job as senior lecturer at Monash. I’d never been to Australia previously, was interviewed on Skype, and thought it was a fantastic opportunity I had to take up. However, I hadn’t really factored in that professionally I was leaving behind all my networks and industry connections, and having to start fresh in a country where I had few contacts or support.

It took me three to four years to rebuild similar networks in Melbourne and Australia, and I really had to push myself to get out and meet industry contacts, attend different events, and establish new academic networks.

I was really fortunate when I met Professor Ramon Spaaij, who works at Victoria University, at a seminar in England a few months before I left. Ramon was also a migrant to Australia, so understood the challenges and provided me with a lot of guidance and support, and has become a significant collaborator and mentor. My colleagues at Monash, and particularly within the HPE [health and physical education] group, were also instrumental in being willing to collaborate and help me establish new networks.

What advice would you give to female early-career researchers who are starting out?

A few things. Try to see the long game with academia. Although we feel under pressure to do everything at once, particularly as an ECR, you’ll hopefully have several decades working in the industry. Trying to keep time to have a life outside of academia is important. It’s easy to get swallowed up in trying to keep all the balls in the air and perform on every front, but this is hard to maintain after a few years.

Secondly, everyone stresses the importance of networks, but I think for women in particular, making connections with like-minded colleagues within and outside your institution is crucial. Use every opportunity you have to find people that you get on with, have academic interests in common with, and can work with.

For women in particular, making connections with like-minded colleagues within and outside your institution is crucial. Use every opportunity you have to find people that you get on with, have academic interests in common with, and can work with.

I’ve recently finished editing a book with a colleague in Canada, Associate Professor Dawn Trussell, who I met at my first academic conference. We’ve kept in touch ever since, and have developed a series of projects and publications over the last 10 years. By chance we both had two children at the same time in our careers, and she’s been a huge support, not only to work with, but to talk to and unload about some of the challenges we’ve faced. During COVID lockdown and remote learning, we were talking to each other daily about the best approaches to teach maths to five-year olds while trying to write academic articles (we never did nail this one).

These networks and connections have been essential for my career development, but also make academic work much more enjoyable along the way.

Reflecting on your career, what have been your proudest moments, and why?

At a personal level, there are a few proud moments attached to different achievements. Completing my PhD was a pretty proud moment, which I’d undertaken while working full-time as a research assistant. It was very full-on, and I had times of significant doubt along the way (as most of us do, I’m sure) as to whether I was “good enough” to complete it.

Leading a successful ARC Linkage bid in 2019 was another proud moment. It felt like just pulling the bid together had been a massive achievement, while working with three other universities and four partner institutions. Having continually struggled with feelings of being an imposter in academia, I did have a bit of a “Maybe I can do this after all” moment when it was successful.

Beyond my own personal milestone, I always feel incredibly proud when students I’ve been working with achieve success, be that completion of PhDs, moving through milestones, first publications, etc. It’s really rewarding to see the next generation succeeding and breaking new ground, and knowing you’ve helped a bit in that journey.

Much of my teaching is connected to equity and inclusion. One of the most rewarding aspects of my job is when students get in contact once they’re working in schools, indicating how they’ve implemented various inclusive practices, or challenged elements of exclusion within their school. Having that tangible feedback that you’ve made a bit of difference is one of the best parts of my job.

What gender-related insights have you had from your research that have implications for our community?

There are probably a few. My research looks at issues of equity and inclusion in sport, and examines the ways in which sport acts as an educational space to address social issues. One of the key observations from my research that is relevant in academia is that just because women are present in large numbers doesn’t mean that there’s a gender-equitable system in place.

With the growth and profile of women’s sport, particularly professional sport with, for example, the AFLW, there’s a belief that gender inequity is no longer an issue, and that women have it all. My research in community sport illustrates that women still remain on the fringes and marginalised within clubs, despite being present in large numbers. They’re not present in leadership and decision-making roles, and still have to endure substandard facilities and conditions compared to their male counterparts. Continuing to acknowledge that the presence of women isn’t enough to address systemic inequity, and that proactive action is required, is important in academia.

Another key issue within my research is the intersectional nature of exclusion for women. While some women in sport are achieving success and accessing greater opportunities, this is overwhelmingly occurring among white, middle-class, educated women. The experiences of women of colour, queer women, trans women and disabled women within sporting contexts are radically different, and their exclusion is often more acute.

Their experiences need to be brought to the forefront, and should be crucial in guiding policies and practices for change. This again has relevance and significance for academia, where we often suggest gender equity exists without considering if this is the case for all women.

PROFESSOR JANE WILKINSON

Professor Jane Wilkinson describes herself as a working-class girl, the first in her family to go past Year 12. Jane researches in the area of educational leadership, with a particular focus on social justice, equity and social cohesion.

How has the world changed for women in academia from when you first started your career?

One positive change is that there are more women in senior roles, both in research roles and management. A negative change is that it feels even more competitive and cut-throat, which is particularly tough on women who are balancing multiple roles, such as family and work life.

What have been the biggest challenges in your career in academia, and how did you overcome them?

There are three major challenges that I’ve had to overcome. First, I’ve had to overcome my self-doubts and imposter syndrome. At times, I’ve felt like I didn't deserve to go up the ladder, and I’ve felt like an outsider and a “fraud” at times.

I understand these are typical things many women, and those from other minority groups, report on. I was able to overcome these feelings by seeing a psychologist to whom I could voice my innermost fears. Although these inner demons still pop up from time to time, they don't sabotage me like they used to.

The sheer workload and exhaustion has been challenging, particularly while trying to balance work with a healthy life and stay connected to family and friends outside of work. I’ve coped with this by carving out “family-only” time from my work schedule. At the beginning of the year, my partner and I synchronise our diaries with school holidays and put in a leave request for a fortnight in the middle of the year. We'd go away as a family, and I wouldn't check my emails.

While it takes some discipline, I'd always come back feeling refreshed and much better.

I was also proud when I made full professorship. It was a long and arduous road, but it really mattered to me to achieve it as a working-class-background girl with no family member who had completed Year 12, let alone gone to uni.

I’ve also made it a habit to not check emails on weekends. Emails, like housework, will always be there. Weekends are reserved for family and personal time, and we often arrange a fun social outing with the family, or just have downtime.

Finally, I’ve struggled with feeling guilt as a mother of a small child. I’ve asked myself many times, am I sacrificing my child for my career? Will she cope with me being away while I go off on yet another conference trip? Again, the psychologist really helped me with reality checks on my feelings of guilt. They helped me to trust my partner’s competence as a parent, and understand that just because he parented differently from me, it didn’t mean it was bad. I also learned to understand that a happy mum who is enjoying her career is the best possible role model for her daughter to have.

What advice would you give to female early-career researchers who are starting out?

I would strongly recommend scheduling a holiday with family or friends. Don't work seven days a week. It will wear you out, and you won’t be as energetic and refreshed as you need to be. Also, forgive yourself for not being perfect. None of us are. We all make mistakes.

Make friends with other academics, and work together to support one another. Academia can be a lonely and isolating place, and it's these friendships that will get you through the tough times when you just want to give up.

Reflecting on your career, what have been your proudest moments, and why?

Finishing my PhD – I proved to myself I could do it!

I was also proud when I made full professorship. It was a long and arduous road, but it really mattered to me to achieve it as a working-class-background girl with no family member who had completed Year 12, let alone gone to uni.

More generally, doing research I'm proud of with colleagues and friends who give me sustenance. At the end of your career, I think that’s what matters most of all.

What gender-related insights have you had from your own research that have implications for our community?

Academia is tough, and it can be particularly tough on those who have caring duties. The research field as a whole still has a notion of the academic being a monk in a cell, scribing in isolation with someone to cook meals for them and wash their clothes.

My research is in leadership, and we still have very traditional notions of what it means to be a leader, and lead – notions that emphasise individuality and competitiveness. That is what characterises academia in some ways, but there are also important traditions of collegiality and caring – create those with others, and you’ll not only survive, but thrive.

*The ranking was determined by a combination of the Scopus and Google Scholar h-index.

This article was collated by Kelly-Ann Allen, an educational and developmental psychologist, and a senior lecturer in the Faculty of Education.