Women's Writes - Works

Women's Writes

Well-behaved women seldom make history.
— Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Day 1

Hi! I’m back. It’s March again, and once again I will attempt to bring some light to women’s issues with my pen and my computer. I’m in it to the finish…though I can’t promise that with the state of the world right now. War, global warming, wildfires, drought…there are many things that can get me before then. Perhaps a python will crawl into my bed? Not likely. Pythons are rare in Nebraska. Anyway, I have returned, and am on a race to the finish line. I hope you can stay with me for the whole month. It’s always nice knowing I have partners along the journey. So, for my first day, I give you a story about a problem women encounter all too often. When I heard about this happening, I was floored. I sort of thought we were in the twenty-first century, but it appears there are some people still dreaming about the nineteenth. Sometimes the only way women can succeed is by playing their game.

PLAYING THEIR GAME

“What’s wrong?” Megan saw Kayla’s face grow red as she read the letter. “A rejection?”

“Yes, but…” Kayla thrust the paper at her friend. “You read it. I’m about to explode.

The letter was polite, but condescending. It said the same thing Kayla had heard from the first three journals. At first she thought it was a joke, but it was definitely not funny. They rejected her paper because the authors were all women. If she just had a male…preferably as principal investigator…they could publish the paper. She fumed, as she had fumed with the first three letters. A paper about a medical condition suffered only by women, that she had researched since the beginning of her graduate school days, and they told her she had to have a man? Ridiculous.

“What is this, the nineteenth century?” Megan handed the letter back. “But they did say they would publish if it had a man’s name. Obviously they think it’s good enough to publish.”

“Sure. If a man wrote it. Look at this. ‘Although the research is sound and the conclusions are solid, our readers simply will not take it seriously if the only authors are women.’ And why not? Why would they take it seriously if it had a man’s name? Don’t answer that.” Kayla wasn’t ready to deal with one of Megan’s tirades, though she usually agreed with her. She ripped the letter in five pieces and threw it in the wastebasket. “Well, back to Home Ec class for me.” Her tone was mocking, but her heart was heavy. She had worked a long time to earn her degree, to complete her research, and she had paid her own way through.

Megan didn’t say anything. She put her hand on Kayla’s arm in sympathy and returned to her desk. They had both waited a long time to get a job outside the clerical pool, but without publications, they had no luck. She waved at Travis as he wandered through; he came to sit on her desk and talk to them. “Why so gloomy?”

“She won’t talk to you. She’s gone mum today.” Megan flirted with Travis, feeling comfortable knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. She could have a little fun without worrying he would take it seriously. She explained in hushed tones what Kayla experienced. Travis found it hard to believe, so she fished the paper out of the wastebasket and pieced it together.

“Wow. This is…antediluvian.”

“Hey, where’s you learn that word?” Megan was impressed. Travis had breezed through school without much hard work on a legacy scholarship, and his vocabulary was limited.

“Don’t tease me.” Travis frowned, but he wasn’t angry. He knew as well as they did he wasn’t qualified for the job he held, and he also knew both of them were more qualified. He felt uneasy about it, but the firm was owned by a friend of his father, and he took the job because it was easier than looking for a job. He was fortunate to have skilled research scientists in the clerical pool to consult with when he got over his head…which was most of the time. “I might be able to help.”

“No.” Kayla spoke for the first time. “I’m not letting them do this to me. I’m going to find a journal that will publish me for the quality of my work, not because I get a man to help me.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, the offer stands.” Travis whistled down the hall to his lab, hoping everything worked like he planned. He hated to have to do things over.

Rejections continued coming. They all said the same thing. Good paper, solid data…but you’re a woman. Readers don’t trust the logic and reasoning skills of women. You need a man. Kayla paused, her hand in the air, not able to knock. She didn’t want to do this. She had to. “Travis?” The die was cast. With Travis listed as principal investigator, the paper was published. The first publication was catalyst to move Kayla out of the clerical pool into the lab; Megan followed soon after, her research completed, and since she had a male on her research team, she was able to get published without groveling.

Travis continued providing assistance for Kayla as she compiled more data, wrote more papers, and became increasingly respected in the field. Even with the respect, she still struggled to get her papers published without him, and she finally gave up to reality. She did insist on future projects that he had to at least show up and pipette something. That way she could at least feel like it wasn’t a lie.

Megan was with her at the conference where her final results were revealed. She had found the cause of the illness, and figured out a way to prevent women from dying early or suffering years of pain. The conference room was packed. Her talk was the last one, the one everyone would remember when they got home. She spoke with confidence that comes from long years of research and thorough knowledge of her subject. The room was silent when she finished; they realized the importance of what she discovered. Then everyone started to talk at once, questions from every side. She selected one of the hands and a man near the middle of the room rose.

“I was wondering why we are hearing this from you? Why is the principal investigator not giving the presentation?”

“I have been more involved with this project than the…principal investigator.” Kayla hoped they didn’t notice the hesitation. “I’m sure all of you know that in many research project, the principal investigator is the name they use for the paperwork. It’s everyone else who does the work.” A small laugh rippled through the room, even among those who were principal investigators on this project.

“Still, I would like to hear from him. If he truly believes in his work, he should present it, defend it, and let it stand for itself, not send a lab assistant.”

Megan held her breath; would Kayla be able to hold her temper? She marveled at the calm with which her friend approached the question, politely explaining that she was a co-principal investigator and fully qualified to present the research. She was not a lab assistant. The man nodded with a smug look of contempt before he sat.

“Don’t let him bother you”, Megan whispered as they headed for the elevator. “He’s envious because he is a lab assistant.”

“No, he’s the head of research on infectious diseases at…” Kayla stopped. “Hold on.” She found her phone and read the text. Her face turned red, as it had the day she tore up the rejection letter from the journal that eventually published her. “I can’t believe it!”

“What?”

Kayla didn’t answer. She thrust the phone at Megan. “Shit.” Megan read the message twice more. “I can’t believe he did this! I didn’t even know he applied for that job. Everyone thought you were guaranteed.”

“Yeah. Now my supervisor is going to be someone who can’t even spell DNA.” It was a standing joke around the office after a memo in which he was not able to properly spell the acronym for one of the most important molecules they worked with.

The flight home was quiet. Neither Megan nor Kayla felt like talking, each lost in their own misery. Megan was sure Kayla would get the job. She had been asked to give a reference, and the boss spoke about her in glowing terms as they chatted. He hinted that he’d already decided. Maybe he had, Megan thought. Just not on Kayla.

Travis was already there when Kayla arrived on Monday. She turned her back on him and began doing the DNA extraction he was supposed to do while she was gone. She was just as glad he didn’t; she only had a limited amount of sample, and having to redo it might be impossible.

“Hey, I guess you’re not gonna speak to me.” Travis leaned against the counter next to her. “I sorta can’t blame you, but you gotta understand. I have my wife and three kids to support. I needed the job, or I would have turned it down. You know why I got it over you? Because of those papers of yours where I was listed as principal investigator. My name has been cited in so many other articles; I’ve been googled numerous times every day by people wanting to find the latest word in the field.”

“You could at least say you’re sorry.” Kayla had no intention of reminding him that he wasn’t the only one trying to survive on their salary. Besides, his wife was working at a good job, too. Her ex left the state and she had no idea where to find him to serve him with papers demanding back child support. His son was at the age where he seemed to need everything, and her deadbeat former husband refused to help. “Why did you apply? You knew I was applying.”

“My wife insisted. She said it was time they recognized all the work and money and time I’d given them, and how my intellect saved the company more than once.” Travis looked sheepish. “I guess…I sort of…exaggerated to her. I didn’t think it would matter. It was just…home bragging.”

Kayla put down the DNA. She took off her lab coat. She wasn’t sure she would quit her job, but at least she could call in sick today. “I’m going home.”

“Why? Are you all right?”

“Just…don’t say anything more to me today.” She left the lab just as Megan was arriving; Megan decided she was sick, too.

“Let Travis try to run the lab without us. All the other guys that used to prop him up have been promoted. He’ll have a big mess in there by five o’clock.” She took Kayla out for breakfast before they parted to their own homes.

Kayla never resigned. Lab jobs were scarce, and she couldn’t afford to lose the one she had. She wasn’t prepared to go back to clerical, and besides, she needed to continue her work. She did change her way of submitting her papers. She showed the letter to Megan.

“Dear Dr. Madison…” Megan read the letter, telling her the paper would be published in the next edition. “The first journal you sent it to? Are you trusting Travis again?”

“No, I just changed my name…sort of. I sent it in with my initials. K. L. Madison. They just assumed I was a man. It’s not what I want. I want to have them accept that a woman can think. But for the time being, I’ll play their game. When I get a big enough name…” Kayla didn’t finish. She had no idea what she’d do, but she could dream.