Like any good protestant preacher, I’ve decided to start a multi-week series where we can examine a topic in depth from multiple angles.[1] My chosen topic: women in academia. This is a topic that has been written on extensively in peer-reviewed articles and on the blogosphere (see The Monkey Cage’s wonderful discussion for a recent summary). However, to my knowledge, most of those writing on the topic have been senior: the perspective of a woman “in the trenches” (ie junior) has been somewhat missing in the discussion. I want to add my two-cents to the discussion and I’ve purposely decided to make the tone of this discussion somewhat light. Yet, make no mistake, I’m very aware that there are some very nasty, horrible, and life-altering components to this topic. Maybe one day I’ll talk about those aspects as well.
Anywho – with an eye towards making the tone somewhat light, I’ve decided to title this series “An Academic Woman’s Rant of the Week” – this is a nod to Jo Dee Messina’s song “A Woman’s Rant,” which I love. My first rant: academic titles and gendered (mis)perceptions.
It probably doesn’t come as a surprise but women in academia are likely to be perceived as having a lower title than their male counterparts. As Miller and Chamberlin (2000) point out in their study of college students:
“students misattribute in an upward direction the level of education actually attained by male graduate student instructors, while they misattribute in a downward direction the level of formal education attained by women, even when the female faculty member is a full professor. The misattributions are linked to the imputed statuses “teacher” for women, and “professor” for men, regardless of the actual positions held or the credentials earned by faculty members and graduate student instructors” (283).
I’ve seen this trend play out in my own career and dealings with students. Now, I’m ok with students calling me by my first name but I’m also very happy to have a Ph.D and I still get a kick out of a student calling me “Dr. Murdie.” However, I routinely receive emails that must be meant for my mother-in-law – they are addressed to “Mrs. Murdie.” Not cool. At first, I ignored the “Mrs” in emails but I’m starting to actually address the mistaken title in my response to students. I’ve always had nice responses from students when I take them to task for it – the information could be useful for them later in life.
I’ve also seen this in dealings with my non-academic neighbors in Kansas and Missouri: I had a very nice retired friend try to tell me I was a “professor’s assistant” instead of an “assistant professor.” It took some time to correct that misperception. Even in my own dealings with my family, I’ve had lots of relatives refer to me as a “teacher at the University of Missouri” instead of a “professor at the University of Missouri.” This might seem like nit-picky semantics but I really think that this “teacher” versus “professor” misperception is part-and-parcel to some of the larger problems concerning women in academia. Nothing is wrong with being a teacher[2]; however, I’m not a university teacher. I’m a university professor. With a PhD. And, I shouldn’t have to assume that others don’t know that simply because I’m a woman.
And, that’s my rant of the week. Next up: self-citation and self-promotion.
I just got an e-mail addressed to “Mr. Esarey.” But my wife Betsy Barre (who has a PhD and an academic job, and kept her last name) gets letters to “Mrs. Justin Esarey”! As she points out, that’s wrong *three* ways.
I know some people think it’s snobbish, but the first ever student who addressed me “hey Raul” got a “that’s Dr. Pacheco-Vega to you ThankYouVeryMuch”. Now it’s in my actual syllabi “I prefer to be addressed as Professor Pacheco-Vega or Dr. Pacheco-Vega. It’s not Raul, and it’s MOST DEFINITELY NOT {HEY!}”.
As an Assistant Dean with a gender-ambiguous name (Frances), I’m amused (on good days) or irked (on bad days) by the difference in the treatment I get when people interpret “Frances, Assistant Dean” as “female who is an assistant to the dean” instead of “male who is almost as powerful as a dean”. The truth is, I’m neither.
The titles issue doesn’t bother me as much as it once did, simply because over time I’ve gained a different perspective on the importance of job and career in the cosmic scheme of things.
Interesting, it’s not obvious that male students are the worst or only the offenders.
I’ve gotten Mr. some … Mostly from first generation students. I don’t correct it and there was a famous professor at my alma mater decades ago that insisted on Mr. out of a democratic instinct.
Interesting. I always find myself debating whether or not correct students when I notice they called me Mrs. X – I don’t want to appear annoyed or angry, and then I think, why not? Quite frankly, it’s rather frustrating to see they don’t to that with my male colleagues. Even more interesting, once my husband was teaching as an adjunct in my department:students called him Doctor X and called me Mrs. X.
I’ve been wondering about this scenario: how do you start a cold-call email to a professor? Let’s say a grad student wants to email a professor from another school. In the students’ department, the norm is to address everyone by their first name. Which if any convey a proper sense of respect while also not making the student seem too uptight?
Dear Amanda,
vs
Dear Amanda Murdie,
vs
Dear Dr Murdie,
vs
Dear professor Murdie,
I generally opt for the last option. But, then it gets confusing when you get a reply signed:
Thanks,
Amanda
In the next email do you switch to the more familiar address?! This all probably sounds a bit silly, but it is one of those weird things. I ran into this when sending follow-up emails after interviewing for a tt position. I wanted to show respect to the faculty, but I also wanted them to think that in a matter of months I could be their equal (at least in terms of social rules which guide this sort of thing).
Hmm… I’m really not Ms. (Dr?) Manners so I might be off on this:
I would say “Dear Dr. Murdie” when first emailing as a grad student to a faculty member at another institution. If you get a “Thanks, Amanda” reply, definitely start your next email with “Dear Amanda.”
That’s what I would say too – and that’s what I still do, when I’m cold emailing someone I don’t know, or who is not a friend-of-a-friend.