Reflections on Obstacles and Opportunities: Suggestions for Improving the Retention of Female Faculty

The progression of students to eventual professorships is called pipeline, and reductions of women in academe at successive stages are referred to as leaks (van Anders 511). The academic pipeline is blocked and leaking. Female scholars continue to experience systemic barriers related to combining career and family (van Anders 512; Fogg NA). Women are citing: (a) quality of life issues, (b) institutional climate problems, and (c) barriers to advancement, all of which result in them leaving the academic workforce (Hult 1; O'Laughlin and Bischoff 79; van Anders 511; Wells C3). As a consequence of these and other factors, women continue to be underrepresented among the nation's faculty. According to a report by the American Association of University Professors (AAUP), women made up 24% of full professors at all institutions nationwide in 2005-2006 (Banerji 27). At the institution where I teach, less than 18% of the full professors are female (Institutional Planning and Analysis). Behind these statistics and general trends are individuals. Each has her own story. I am sharing with you some of my experiences in order to illuminate obstacles facing professors who have dual commitments to work and care-giving, By reflecting on these obstacles, some of which are organizational, one gains more insight into possibilities and new opportunities for change. When I was a child, I would go to the university with my father and I would draw on the chalkboard while he worked in his office. He was a professor from a generation of men who had a strong work ethic, and he passed those values on to me. He also taught me how to overcome challenges. But sometimes life's challenges come in rapid succession. It is important to reflect on life events, and in some circumstances it may even be important to put aside a strong work ethic, which no doubt you will recognize in this commentary. Allow me to explain. In 2004, my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and was given less than a year to live. He was stoic about it, but the realization that I was losing my dad was heart-wrenching, and I spent much of the year experiencing anticipatory grief. Nonetheless, I taught my university classes dutifully and I flew home only when classes were on break. On my last visit home, in an uncharacteristic whisper of a voice, he told me that I had brought him much joy. He hoped that I too would have a family someday. At the time I was thirty-six years old. I had worked hard to achieve my position of tenured associate professor, and like so many women who pursue higher education and careers in academe, I was childless. It is noteworthy that women on the tenure track are more likely than men to avoid marriage, delay parenting, or limit the number of children they raise (Drago C3). Female professors are even less likely to have children than female physicians or lawyers (Wilson A12). It saddened me to know that I had waited too long and that my father would never know his grandchild. After my father's death, I decided to apply for a difference in pay leave for the following year, which was subsequently granted. This would enable me to work on a research project about communication during serious illnesses such as cancer. I was still teaching when I learned I was pregnant. At the time, I prided myself for planning a leave of absence, and, additionally, for putting my name on the waitlist early for the University Children's Center. (I naively believed that I would be at the top of the waitlist by the time I returned from my leave, which would be more than a year later.) Unfortunately, during my routine twenty-week ultrasound the doctor discovered a suspicious walnut sized growth on my left ovary. A biopsy would be too dangerous because of the risk of inducing premature labor. I made the difficult decision to postpone surgery and I continued teaching throughout my pregnancy until the school year ended. …