The Twitter conversation branched from multiple roots. On June 7, Eric Kelderman, reporter for the Chronicle of Higher Education, sent out a critical tweet of a female academic who responded to his media inquiry by suggesting that he should have used “Professor” or “Doctor” (the tweet has since been deleted). The next day, a doctor from the U.K., David Naumann, criticized doctors, medical or otherwise, who use their title in a nonprofessional setting. And a few days later the Globe and Mail, a Canadian newspaper, announced revised style guidelines wherein only medical doctors would be referred to using “Dr.”, a convention that is already used most of the time by the Associated Press and news outlets that follow AP Style (including KQED). What followed was an explosion of opinions and experiences revolving around titles, expertise, and gender and racial bias.
When you think of lab personnel, you probably think of the PI, postdocs, graduate students and even some undergrads. However, there is often another person in the lab who plays an important role that isn’t always clearly understood: the staff scientist.
It’s been 20 years since Esteban González Burchard took a trip to Chicago that changed his life. The asthma researcher had been to the Windy City before, so tourism wasn’t on his agenda. Rather, he was there to attend the American Thoracic Society Conference for the first time. And he was on a mission. The […]
I was in the Mission Bay Conference Center in San Francisco, on a stage in front of the largest group of men I had ever seen gathered together in one place, at the same time, to talk about inclusion at the Better Man Conference. There were executives, leaders, emerging leaders and changemakers; men from big corporate, men from the entrepreneurial community, men from early stage tech companies; coaches, contractors and consultants. To stand on that stage and look out at hundreds of men, willing to learn from one another—men who were challenged, during the course of the conference, to model the value they place on inclusion in public, and make it safe for others to do the same—was a powerful experience.
The first time my department chair was hostile to me was during a private lunch, moments after I expressed curiosity about their field of specialisation. The second time was a humiliating email copied to college administrators. The third time was a dressing down in front of an administrative assistant. For anyone familiar with workplace bullying, this is known as “repeated mistreatment” or – more euphemistically – “escalated incivility”.