My experience at an MA program was a hellish nightmare from beginning to end. I hesitate to say more for fear of further retaliation. I just want to caution those of you out there who are thinking about coming forward to report sexual predators. Expect your department to turn on you; expect your department to retaliate against you. Expect to be bad mouthed at every PhD program to which you apply. Expect to lose your committee. Expect to lose your letter writers. Expect your department to withdraw all support from you. Expect to become persona non grata. Expect to be de facto barred from all opportunities in your department. Expect to be gas-lighted. Expect people to be thrilled to watch your fall from grace. And, then, when you succeed, against all odds, and despite the prodigious efforts of your department to the contrary, through sheer force of will and talent, expect your department to exploit your success at every opportunity. Expect to watch as your success is used to further the career of the predator. Expect them to ignore your pleas to stop. Expect this.
I was participating in an intensive research seminar and had a brief opportunity to meet with its accomplished, distinguished director. I was excited and nervous to discuss my project-in-progress. One of the first bits of feedback he gave me was that I would “make a good mother.” Although a significant compliment, on its face, it seemed a deeply problematic way of communicating that I shouldn’t continue on in philosophy, and it made me consider the professional costs of things I especially value about myself: empathy, kindness, intellectual humility. I said, “Thank you. I think so, too,” although I’d known for a long time that motherhood was not in my future.
I’m a graduate student in a very supportive department for women. We have an above average number of female faculty and about average number of female graduate students. We have an active climate committee and some women-only events in the department.
I was recently at a department talk. The talk was in the subfield I’m most interested in, which has somewhat lower rates of women than the discipline generally. There were about 25 people at the talk, and about 7 of whom were women (I hope I’m not the only one who always counts when I’m in a room with philosophers). But by the middle of the Q&A, I was the only woman in the room, with at least 10 men left.
I do feel lucky, because this isn’t something that happens to me every day. But when I realized that I was the only woman, my stomach just dropped. It’s hard for me to place exactly why I felt so acutely uncomfortable in that moment. I was suddenly so aware of my femaleness in a way that I rarely am. I hope I don’t often experience that same situation and accompanying feeling, but I can be quite sure it will happen again at some point.
Today I was in my office catching up on some grading. My door was open and a faculty member at another campus location whom I have never met came by to talk about an undergraduate symposium I was organizing. He stuck his head in, saw me at my computer, surrounded by papers and said “I don’t suppose Professor xxxxxxx (me) is in, is he?” I looked at him and said,”yes, I am. Can I help you?” He had the nerve to act surprised, but not embarrassed at his mistake.
I am a white male doctoral student in a philosophy program in North America. Once I was at a conference in my field of research in North America. I had an experience there that opened my eyes. Generally, I’m a pretty naïve person. I’ve always sympathized with the efforts in academic philosophy to broaden what is studied and considered philosophy and create a more diverse learning and research environment, but before this experience I never really understood that these efforts are responding to deep and systemic problems in the academy itself as an institution, which has been designed for particular members of a particular class, racial group, sexual orientation and gender. (Names, places, etc. have been changed).
The conference was a mix of faculty and graduate students. Most of the people were upstanding, though the conference was entirely male. One of the panels had a young professor, “Ted,” from a school in North America that caters to students from France. During the Q and A a priest in attendance, who is West African, asked a question to another member of the panel. The priest was smart and really knew his stuff. Ted wouldn’t look at him and would roll his eyes when he spoke. He didn’t do that to the white members of the audience.
I happened to sit with Ted and a few other people at dinner that night. Ted mentioned that he taught at a French school. Trying to make conversation, I said that there is a group of French students in my program. He knew one of them and asked if I knew her. I said yes and he replied, “Yeah, cute little thing.” It felt like one of those male-bonding rituals that establish the “code,” ensure solidarity, and make us “safe.” I said, “She’s a very smart student.” He looked me, “Yeah, cute little thing.” I said it again. He looked at me disdainfully and let it drop. He then proceeded to tell us how he drinks heavily, got made fun of and never had any friends in high school, and made a possibly sexual comment about children, all unsolicited.
Ted can be in academia and was able to get a number of degrees in philosophy, because there is a system that was created for him, has protected him, and continues to protect him. I never understood that before.
I do, now.
I attended the University of X. I was male but noticed a type of personal harassment from the advisor that started immediately upon enrolling. For me it came about because I had previously attended a different institution and was ABD before I left. His form of harassment came about in “oh we are tough and we will straighten you out”. His “advising” meeting consisted of his inviting students to a local bar. There was nothing academic going on at those events. One time he had his arm around a female graduate students neck and was asking her “which graduate students are dating each other”. Another time he was joking with another female graduate student about sexual intercourse. I decided to leave the program after a few months of that nonsense and never looked back.
I’m a PhD student in a related field. Some time ago, I fell in love with a technical, highly male dominated subfield of philosophy. I was confident that I would make the transition into philosophy…and then I started hearing about philosophy’s “woman problem.” Then I started to experience it myself. Though I have training in certain formal methods, it was infuriating to discover that philosophers were inclined not to believe that I do in fact have this training or who just assumed that the male students were “smarter” than me, despite no evidence that this was the case. I’m sick and tired of philosophers automatically taking me less seriously than they do their male students.
My university’s philosophy department is known for having a good climate (!!), and yet it’s so much worse than my current (not philosophy) department. Meanwhile, the phil departments I’ve looked into transferring into are known for having even worse climates!
I don’t think I’ll change fields after all.