motherly support

I defended my PhD last November; yesterday was the graduation ceremony. I'd been asked to give the speech on behalf of the new doctores, an honour that made me quite nervous! But before the ceremony the rector smiled to me and to my surprise knew just who I was. She patted my shoulder, thanked me for agreeing to give the speech, and told me she was sure it would be great. She treated me just as a supportive aunt or friend of my mother's would. Her gown was of deep red velvet with ermine edgings like a queen's, and her speech was a celebration of women's progress in academia. 47% of the new doctores last semester were women. She reminded us that it's a hundred years since the first woman was awarded a doctoral degree in Bergen. After receiving her degree, Clara Holst contined her research abroad but on returning to Bergen, she was only given two half-year teaching contracts. She retired completely from academia when she was just forty and nothing more is known of her life.

It still isn't easy for women to remain in academia: only 13% of full professors at my university are women. That number hasn't increased a lot in the last decade, despite the female-friendly Norwegian rules that award full professorships based on merit rather than available positions, and despite the growing numbers of women taking doctoral degrees.

After the ceremony the university newsletter journalist snapped photos of me and my daughter, as we were sitting chummily discussing how best to manoeuvre drinks and foods at a reception. I wish I'd been better able to answer her questions about how to get more female professors. Today I wrote her an email, telling her how much it meant to me that the rector of the university patted my shoulder and smiled to me so supportively, as though she'd watched me grow up and was genuinely proud and happy for me.

Men have given me amazing support in my career. Without my advisor's belief in me and his steadfast pushing me into situations I didn't realise I could master, I doubt I've have realised I could start a PhD, let alone finish one so successfully. Men's fatherly or elder brotherly encouragement is wonderful. But I think the rector's pat on the shoulder was the very first time I've experienced motherly support in the university. I was surprised at how much it meant to me.

One day, when my hair is grey and I have thirty years more experience than I have today, I'm going to be a motherly, encouraging professor.