"You argue like my ex-wife!"

T and I have been arguing since we met at a conference years ago.

During one fight, he said in annoyance "You argue like my ex-wife! She never lets me win!" 

He was still trying to win an argument with his ex-wife. Since she was no longer around, he used me as a surrogate.

This was neither the first nor the last time that I saw a man use a woman from his professional life as a surrogate for his ex-wife, ex-girlfriend, wife, mother, or daughter. And it's led me to wonder to what extent people (of all genders) view their female colleagues as part of their personal lives, not their professional lives.

At a later conference, I realized that T and I were getting along quite well. Had I improved my interpersonal skills? That would have been nice. No, that wasn't it. He and his ex-wife had gotten back together, and they were happy. Fighting with me no longer filled his need to try to win an argument with someone who wasn't there.

"What can I learn from this?"

or: Some things I wish I'd learned sooner

Click here for the post. The article appears in abridged form in MAA FOCUS. While it's written for mathematicians, I hope that others will find something useful in it.

The Case of the Writer and the Schoolteacher

I've long been troubled by the Case of the Writer and the Schoolteacher.

A high school math teacher applied to the Ohio State mathematics graduate program with the goal of teaching in a college or community college after obtaining a PhD. She had already started working towards her goal by getting a Master's degree. Her application made perfect sense to me, so I was surprised to read the evaluations of her file by some of my (male) colleagues:

SHE'S 41!!! I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY THIS WOMAN WANTS TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL!

and hear the emotion in their voices when they spoke against her application at the graduate admissions committee meeting. You might think that a mathematics professor could have correctly calculated that she was only thirty-something, but even for mathematicians, one's cognitive skills decline when angry.

Several months later, near the end of the admissions season, an application arrived from a man who had made his career as a writer. It wasn't clear to me why he wanted to earn a mathematics PhD. Though he was older than the math teacher (whose age seemed to be a concern to my colleagues), and he hadn't gotten a Master's degree, my colleagues' evaluations were glowing. They said he was a mature, well-motivated adult, and that it would be a pleasure to have him in our classes.

It's curious how I and the rest of the committee could have read the same files so differently.

These are things that would help everyone!

The Dean of the College of Mathematical and Physical Sciences (MPS) at Ohio State University invited the female MPS faculty to lunch at his home to ask us what he could do to help women.

He lived out of town so it was a bit of a drive to get there. Why did he want us to meet at his house? He said that since we were women, he decided we would feel more comfortable at a home than at the university.

It's too bad he hadn't asked us what we preferred. Some of us were not pleased that we had to take time away from work to go there and back, arrange carpools, etc.; it would have been more convenient for us if the meeting were on campus. (Given the quantity of leftovers that his wife put into their refrigerator after the lunch, I cynically wondered whether the leftovers were the real reason he wanted the meeting at his house.)

At the lunch, we went around the room giving our advice. We stressed the need for fairness, transparency, accountability, and knowing the law and following it. When we were done, the Dean looked upset, and said "But, but, ... these are things that would help everyone, not just women!"

"That's right," we replied.

"But I want to do things that help women!"

We told him that what helps everyone helps women.

He didn't seem happy about that. 

Why did he seem to lose interest when we didn't tell him things he could do specifically for women? Some of us wondered if he was using the Deanship as a stepping stone to a higher position; perhaps he was mostly interested in adding a line to his CV about how he helped women? Soon after that, he left OSU to become President of a different university.

The trip to his house would have been worth it, if only OSU had taken to heart our suggestions about fairness, transparency, accountability, and knowing the law and following it.

"Who's on first?"

 "I'd like to speak to Mr. Silverberg" said the voice over the phone in my office.

"There's no Mr. Silverberg here," I replied.

"Is this the number for Dr. Silverberg?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, when can I speak to Mr. Silverberg?''

Perhaps I had been watching too many Marx Brothers films, or too much Abbott and Costello. "There is no Mr. Silverberg at this number." 

"But isn't this Dr. Silverberg's number?"

"Yes."

"Well, can I speak to Mr. Silverberg?"

"There is no Mr. Silverberg at this number."

"But isn't this the number for Dr. Silverberg?"

"Yes."

"Well, who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Silverberg," I said calmly.

Stunned silence at the other end.

Then, "umm ... I'm an insurance salesman."

A long pause, and then he continued, "I guess I'm not going to be able to sell you anything, am I?"

"I guess not."

I felt sorry for him. Maybe I was too cruel. But perhaps the conversation was memorable enough that he learned something.