Trans Perspectives in Academia
Posted by the Node, on 19 November 2024
Queer people, trans individuals in particular, remain significantly underrepresented in STEM and academia. In August 2023, Nick wrote an Honest Conversations post on the Node entitled ‘Coming Out of my Cage and I’ve Been Doing Really, Really Good’, discussing his experience of being a transgender scientist, the importance of the support he received from his lab, and the freedom he found in living authentically.
In this Voices piece, we hear from two PhD students who identify as trans. They discuss their experiences navigating academia, issues prevalent in academia that trans people still face, and the support systems they have found that have empowered them on their journeys.
Thank you to both Aflah (author of another ‘Honest Conversations’ article Moving Forward on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion in STEM) and James for sharing their experiences here.
Of being a trans immigrant – an uphill journey through science
by Aflah Hanafiah
As an 8th year PhD student, my journey to climb this career ladder consisted of numerous hurdles, setbacks, and emotional and mental rollercoasters. I was lucky enough to navigate myself out of one of the most queerphobic countries in the world. The UCLA Williams Institute ranks Malaysia 115th of 175 countries based on social acceptance. The Human Rights Watch (HRW) reported on certain Malaysian laws criminalizing same-sex sexual acts and transgender people’s gender expression and sentencing those who found guilty with jail time, fines, and whipping. These laws and the generally conservative culture that is hegemonic in the country easily subject queer people to discriminations and violence, especially towards trans femme people. I grew up learning very early on that expressing myself outside of the heteronormative traits would make my life difficult, so I learned to conform the best I could.
I spent my high school years throwing myself into schoolwork and getting my grades up so I could qualify for a government’s scholarship that would later take me to the USA where I eventually completed my bachelor’s degree in molecular biology. This opportunity allowed me to not only pursue my career goals, but it had also provided me with the space to start addressing my queer identity that I had long suppressed. During my time at Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT), I met many people, student body and faculty included, who were accepting and affirming of queer identities in general. They essentially created a safe space for people like me to feel comfortable in my own skin. However, there was still lingering stigma behind being openly queer and pursuing post-graduate education. I was reminded of this as I applied to several graduate programs. During my interviews, I pivoted strongly to presenting as the gender that appeared on my legal documents so I could avoid the possible awkwardness and questions that could arise from my queer identity.
As I went through the process and started my PhD, I felt like I was given another opportunity to further explore my queer identity now that I was in a totally new environment. This was where I started to feel comfortable to use my preferred pronouns, dressed the way that affirmed my gender identity, and explored gender affirming care. By this time, I was already 27 years old and well past my junior PhD years. My decision to undergo hormone replacement therapy (HRT) that depends on my school’s health insurance while at the same time working on my PhD was a difficult one to make. The PhD already came with its own sets of challenges, and I was unsure if I should add to this chaos by physiologically jumbling my hormonal level. However, the persistent gender dysphoria that is always occupying my mind would later drive me to embark on this next phase of my transition. I am fortunate because my student’s health insurance covers gender-affirming care, so I knew that this was an opportunity that I could not pass on.
Though I have not faced much explicit transphobia in my graduate school, which I largely attribute to me being passable enough, my other trans friends on the other hand, have a much different experience. Despite universities improving the workplace environment for queer people and other minorities; prejudice, micro- and macro-aggressions are still prevalent. I have no doubt that if I did not pass as what society deems as a woman, I would have had a very different experience going through life and specifically, working in academia. I am not “out” per se, in graduate school because it never became a question. I do make it a point that I am transgender around other queer colleagues and in queer spaces because I think that it’s important to let people know that they are not alone and that they are safe with me. As I am at the tail end of my PhD, I can’t help but be worried for my future. A slew of anti-trans laws is being passed in almost every state in the country and more companies are reportedly moving away from investing in LGBTQ+ oriented diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) efforts. Coupled with my F1 visa status, the career choice that is viable to me are ever narrowing. However, it is times like these that I rely on my chosen family, loved ones, and community in navigating these challenges. I believe that with a supporting community behind you, you can overcome any obstacles.
Searching for others like me: navigating academia as a trans person
By James Lythall
As a queer and trans person in STEM, I’m acutely aware of how few LGBTQIA+ people there are in STEM. There are plenty of heterosexual and/ or cisgender people who I enjoyed working and socializing with, the vast majority of whom have been very supportive. At the same time, I can count the number of queer academics I know in the field of life sciences without running out of fingers, and the number of trans academics in any scientific field on one hand. There are probably many more out there, but the number of visible, openly trans and/or queer academics is vanishingly small. Of course, representation will not solve all the problems facing queer and trans researchers, but it can help us fight the feelings of isolation that are often common amongst under-represented groups. To know that someone like you has managed to succeed, despite the odds, can both be comforting and motivating. On a more practical level, it also means there are people you can ask for advice who are familiar with the problems you may be facing and may have already found solutions to them.
I can’t help but feel that I am having to forge my own path all the time, and whilst that is sometimes exciting, it is often exhausting. There are many people who I feel I can ask for scientific guidance, but almost none who I feel comfortable asking for support on issues I face from being trans. This is not because I believe those around me to be trans- or homophobic, but simply because they are often unaware of specific problems that trans and queer researchers face.
As a researcher, I am acutely aware that my personal experience is not necessarily representative of others- an n of 1 is not much! Frustratingly, there is precious little data available on the experiences of the queer – and particularly trans – people in academia. Much of the current data focuses on the experiences of undergraduate students, often in the US, and often not stratified beyond science and humanities. Both this data and surveys conducted by scientific organizations rarely collect data on the trans status of participants, and group everyone who doesn’t identify as a woman or a man as ‘other’. Nonetheless, the little data that there is suggests that queer and trans people are often underrepresented in STEM compared to in the general population, with one US survey finding LGBTQIA+ people were ~20% less prevalent in STEM fields compared to the general population (1). The same study also reported 70% of academics felt uncomfortable being out at work. Focusing on undergraduates, another study found that LGBTQIA+ undergraduates were 9.4% less likely to remain in a STEM major (2), with this rising to 10% for trans undergraduates (3). Another study reported 45.67% of natural sciences students compared to 14.96% of social sciences students reported being misgendered (4). This is particularly alarming in the light of a new study that has found an association of higher levels of microaggressions (including misgendering) and worse mental health outcomes in trans adults in the UK (5).
Despite these gloomy statistics, I am optimistic. I do believe science is slowly becoming a more welcoming place for queer and trans people. I have had some very positive experiences and moments of connection as a trans person in STEM, and in academia. I have had lecturers who have gone above and beyond to create a welcoming teaching and learning environment for trans and queer students, as well as offering considerable personal support to me and other queer students. I have also been encouraged by the acceptance and support for trans and queer people that other students have offered, such as using and advocating for more inclusive language to challenging the heteronormative and cisnormative narratives that often pervade medical sciences. More recently when I was applying for PhDs, one potential supervisor went out of their way to ensure that only my preferred name would be used throughout the application process, and another offered to correct a colleague when they noticed they had got my pronouns wrong.
I would like to finish by suggesting a few things that I think allies can do to help improve LGBTQIA+ experiences in the academic world. Firstly, if you have teaching responsibilities alongside your research, include queer, trans and intersex people whenever possible. On a more individual level, ask and listen to what your LGBTQIA+ students and colleagues need and try to avoid making assumptions. Another important thing you can do is look into how your institution collects data on students and staff and whether this includes appropriate gender and sexuality choices, including options to not disclose. This makes institutional data much more helpful for researchers trying to understand the experiences of queer and trans people in STEM.
These are just a few suggestions, but there are numerous excellent articles out there on how to support queer and trans students and colleagues that I would encourage you to read. Equally, I would also encourage you to think about what you can do outside of the academic sphere to support LGBTQIA+ people. Visible and meaningful support for LGBTQIA+ people has never been more important, particularly in the UK where hate crime rates continue to rise and transphobic rhetoric has become increasingly commonplace in media and politics. Building a better academia also means building a better society in large.
References:
1: Freeman, J. B. (2020). Measuring and Resolving LGBTQ Disparities in STEM. Policy Insights from the Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 7(2), 141-148. doi:10.1177/2372732220943232
2: Hughes, B. E. (2018). Coming out in STEM: Factors affecting retention of sexual minority STEM students. Science Advances, 4(3), eaao6373. doi:doi:10.1126/sciadv.aao6373
3: Maloy, J., Kwapisz, M. B., & Hughes, B. E. (2022). Factors Influencing Retention of Transgender and Gender Nonconforming Students in Undergraduate STEM Majors. CBE—Life Sciences Education, 21(1), ar13. doi:10.1187/cbe.21-05-0136
4: Whitley, C.T., Nordmarken, S., Kolysh, S. and Goldstein-Kral, J. (2022), I’ve Been Misgendered So Many Times: Comparing the Experiences of Chronic Misgendering among Transgender Graduate Students in the Social and Natural Sciences. Sociol Inq, 92: 1001-1028. https://doi.org/10.1111/soin.12482
5: Wright, T., Lewis, G., Greene, T. et al. The association between microaggressions and mental health among UK trans people: a cross-sectional study. Soc Psychiatry Psychiatr Epidemiol (2024). https://doi.org/10.1007/s00127-024-02775-2