One more week to go; the month has managed to go fast and slow at the same time. I suppose that is like most months, but I notice it more in March. Tonight I bring you a short story that touches on some favorite topics of mine - women in science and also education. Women have many more options open to them than in the past, but it isn’t always rosy. I found college to be challenging in ways that had nothing to do with the work, and everything to do with being female. Still, I never had it as bad as Olivia from my story. I hope she finds everything she desires.

WOMEN IN SCIENCE

“I’m 45 years old, and I’ve never killed a man. I suppose you think, so what? Nothing to brag about, none of the rest of us have, either. Reflect on that. Think about the fact that, in spite of everything, no matter what has happened, you have never killed a man. Now, think about whether you have ever wanted to. Ah, I see on your faces…most of you…maybe all of you…have at some time in your life wanted to kill a man. And you are all younger than me…less than half my age.” She paused for effect; the students stared at her, not sure what to make of a professor who started the first day of class in such a manner. It was…different. It was uncomfortable. The girls shuffled in their chairs, scratched pens across paper, and tried not to look at each other.

“Dr. Burns?” A girl in the third row raised her hand. “Are we going to have to…kill…someone for our grade?”

Lori smiled at the students. She was used to this; her opening speech always startled the students. “No, in fact, I am hoping you can reach at least to my age without killing anyone. I hope I have startled you into thinking. I want you to look inside yourselves and see things you’ve been scared to look at, even, maybe especially, those thoughts of anger and fear. Now I want to hear from you. Why did you sign up for this class? What do you hope to gain from the semester?”

The students started talking at once; Lori put up her hand and silenced them. This was the best part. When she first started teaching, it was difficult to pull the students out, to get them to speak even when she called on them. Ever since she started opening with this lead, they couldn’t wait to talk. It’s like she was giving them permission to…be outrageous…or honest…or something. And they responded.

“Let’s speak one at a time. I do encourage free and open discussion, but for now, we’ll learn each other’s names better if we speak one at a time.” She checked her roll sheet. “Madison? Why don’t you start.”

One by one, girls opened up. They talked about the pain, the fear, the loneliness. Several of them talked about abuse; others appeared to have the words quivering on their lips, but were afraid to say it…yet. They talked about the grabbing hands, the leering eyes, the ways they tried to hide their women’s figures and learn to walk so their hips didn’t swing. One by one, they said things that they had never said to anyone before, maybe hadn’t even said to themselves in whispers late at night alone in their room.

“Okay, so you wonder what any of this has to do with my class, I imagine. What is this class? Women in science? Yes. It is a history class…a science class…a gender studies class…a psychology class. You may be noticing that the room is rather…homogenous. There is one demographic that is conspicuously lacking. Yes, Brianna?”

“Men?”

“Men. In all the years I’ve taught this class, I have had only one male in class. He was unsure of himself at first, especially when I started out talking about never killing a man. He had a good time, and contributed to the discussion, but more than that, he learned. He took the course for an easy credit, he told me. When it was over, he admitted it wasn’t so easy after all.”

“So, are we gonna learn about the Harvard computers?”

“Yes, of course we are. And a lot of other women, ones you may have never heard of. Like…Maria Mitchell. Mary Anning. Henrietta Leavitt. Annie Jump Cannon. Hypatia of Alexandria. Marie Lavoisier. Émilie du Châtelet. And many more that are not taught in most of your science classes.”

“Rosalind Franklin?” A girl in the front row lit up when she mentioned the name.

“We will definitely talk about Rosalind Franklin. She’s one of my favorites…she was a great inspiration to me when I was ready to study science.” Lori smiled again. The girls were enthusiastic and lively. It looked like a good class. “How many of you are studying science?” Only three hands went up. “The rest of you?”

The class was a good mix of disciplines this semester. History…Psychology…even a student from Culinary. Two Religion majors and three nursing students. Most of the rest planned to be teachers. She recorded all the majors on the roll sheet beside their names. It would be good information as she planned the curriculum.

The students groaned when the hour ended. They were already involved and engaged, and they wanted to keep talking, discussing all the ways in which women had changed the world, ways in which they could make things better. Lori assured them there would be plenty of time; she had a full semester planned. She passed out the reading list before the students got out the door, and assured them most of the books were available in the library.

One shy girl who had said almost nothing remained behind. She crept to the front of the room and waited for Lori to invite her to speak. When she did speak, her voice was so low it was hard to hear in the large room. “I…I just wanted…to say…I probably…shouldn’t be…taking this class. I…” She broke down in tears and fled the room before Lori could encourage her to open up.

Several weeks went by before the shy girl spoke again. By now, Lori had learned her name was Olivia, and she lived with her father and two brothers. Other than that, no one knew much about her. Several other girls had classes with her, and Lori overheard them talking. They all had different ideas about what was wrong. One of them thought she might be pregnant, and was scared of her father. Another thought she was so religious she thought the class was wrong, but she wanted to be there anyway. No one knew…until the day she came to class early, sitting in the back with her hair hanging over her face so no one could see her…but she couldn’t hide the bruises.

The conversation was lively that day; they were discussing the Marquise du Châtelet, and the students were drawn to her story even more than they had been to Hypatia of Alexandria. Olivia didn’t participate, but no one thought much of that. She rarely spoke during class, though she took notes eagerly and listened with rapt attention. She wasn’t listening today. Her head was down, her hair hanging over her face, and her shoulders shaking as though she was sobbing. One of the girls asked if Voltaire had beaten du Châtelet, and Olivia burst out in tears.

“I am not aware of anything like that”, Lori said, her attention on Olivia. “Excuse me.” She went to the back and put her hand on the other girl’s back. “Are you all right?”

“I…I…” She lifted her face, and the entire class could see for the first time the extent of the bruising. Olivia’s face was purple with bruises, and it looked like she had a broken cheekbone. “I…” She collapsed, not able to finish.

“Brianna, you handle the class discussion for me. I’ve got to take her to the medical center.” Lori lifted the girl without difficulty; she was small enough that even a woman no stronger than the professor could carry her.

“What about…discussion grades?” Brianna looked frightened.

“Just…each of you write two paragraphs about what you talked about in class. Hand it in on Wednesday.” Lori disappeared as Brianna attempted to direct class attention back to the discussion.

The clinic was right next to the Biology building; handy, Lori thought. The nurse practitioner dropped everything to look at Olivia, and within a half an hour, she was on her way to the hospital. Lori rode with her; she cancelled her next class so she could stay with the girl.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity as doctors and social workers flitted around the professor and the student. Lori learned that Olivia had been living with her divorced father and two brothers; her mother disappeared when she was seven, and no one knew where she went. Her father blamed Olivia, and took his anger out on her. He was angry when she wanted to go to college; he wanted her to stay home and take care of him. “Your mother wasn’t willing to fulfill her responsibility, so you have to do it”, he shouted. When he found out she was taking classes at the college without his knowledge, he vowed he would kill her for her disobedience. “A woman doesn’t need an education to spread her legs and cook meals for her man.” Olivia heard that her entire life, but she craved education.

“I can’t believe she came to class again”, Lori whispered, looking at the battered face. “She must really want to learn.”

“She really wants to get out.” A young man was in the doorway, someone Lori had never seen. “I’m Tyler. I’m her brother. I…tried to stop him, but…he was so extremely angry. He wants her…he wants her to replace Mom, I think. Oh, not like sexually or anything, just…taking care of him, waiting on him, cooking and cleaning. But she wants more. She always wanted more. I helped her get enrolled at the college, I took her to classes. We made sure to schedule them only while he was at work. It’s my fault.”

Lori put her arm around Tyler. She liked the young man, his honest face, his clear eyes, and his love for his sister. “It’s not your fault”, she said. “It’s his fault…and the fault of a world that thinks women are worth less than men. You did the right thing. Now she’s where she can get help. With luck, she won’t have to go home again.”

“I wanted her to come live with us…me and my wife…but he wouldn’t hear of it. She’s scared of him, and wouldn’t.”

Lori stared at the young man; he looked familiar. “I know you.”

He laughed. “I took your class a few years ago. I think I’m the only guy that was ever in the women in science class. You…you opened my eyes. I had no idea how difficult it was for women, how difficult it was for Olivia. How difficult it was for Mom. I used to be angry at Mom for leaving; when I heard the stories of the women in the class…when I heard you brag about never killing a man…I started to forgive her. I started to understand. I wanted to help Olivia.”

“You did.”

Lori left the hospital late, but it was a day that ended with a note of hope. She had spent some time talking with Tyler; he was going to take Olivia home with him and make sure she finished her education. He would protect her from her father. Lori slid into her car with a brighter feeling in her heart than she had in some time. For the first time, she had a sense that her class was making a difference…had made a difference. “Now”, she thought, “if we could just figure out how to get more men to enroll.” She turned the key, her mind full of ideas and plans. For the first time in a long time, she believed she could get through the next 45 years without killing a man.