Out and proud: Overcoming barriers for LGBTQIΑ+ individuals in STEM

Jordan Carter
June 20, 2023
Hands with LGBTQ flag isolated on white background. Protesters, discriminations, human rights concept. LGBTQ community, pride month.
Licensed from istockphoto.com

Editor’s note: The following series of stories highlights the social and academic landscape for LGBTQIA+ people in STEM, barriers to their success in STEM and potential solutions to these barriers to enhance LGBTQIA+ retention in STEM. This is part three. Read part one here. Read part two here.

In 2015, the Supreme Court ruling in Obergefell v. Hodges granted same-sex couples the fundamental right to marry. At this same time, I was doing summer research after my freshman year in college. The day before the decision was expected, during a joint lunch between several labs in the department, one person brought up the case, stating, “the queers want to get married, give me a break.”

One of the professors in the room chuckled and said, “I don’t know the law, but the bible defines marriage between a man and a woman.” The original commenter retorted with the now infamous phrase, “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”

Most everyone laughed. No one spoke up. No one questioned the use of “queer” in a derogatory way. No one cared enough to defend the LGBTQIA+ community, even when a young, gay undergraduate student participating in research for the very first time was sitting right there. I don’t know whether the speakers knew my sexuality or not, but most of the individuals in the room who remained silent did.

If I wasn’t there, would they have also chimed in? Did the speakers know my sexuality but still say it anyway? Was anyone else in the room LGBTQIA+?

I was too scared to speak up or report it. I quit the lab the next week.

"This Pride Month, the NIH, NSF and other professional societies in STEM should assess their current practices, engage with the LGBTQIA+ community for suggestions and institute changes to better account for and support their LGBTQIA+ stakeholders."

-- Jordan Carter

“Out” from under
There are steps that can be taken at all levels (governmental, institution and individual) to support LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM and improve data collection, representation and retention of talented scholars in a safe, accepting environment.

LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM need to be safe.

This should not be a radical idea: every individual should be able to come to work/school and not be subject to open harassment or discrimination. In fact, all of the following suggestions are dependent on this basic notion. While the deeper culture of heteronormativity and less explicit forms of discrimination (e.g., microaggressions) are more difficult to change, it all begins with protection from harassment.

Current interpretation of Title IX, the federal law prohibiting sex-based discrimination at schools receiving federal funding, does include protections based on SO/GI for students and faculty. Individuals are often unaware that these protections apply to LGBTQIA+ people because the specific language of the law prohibits discrimination “on the basis of sex.” Many organizations do not emphasize (or acknowledge) this inclusion in mandatory training exercises, an omission I noticed when I completed my annual mandatory Title IX training recently. Adding this information would be a simple but effective change to the training materials to better inform everyone about Title IX protections for LGBTQIA+ individuals.

In addition to improved education about Title IX protections, explicit organizational policies with clear and consistently enforced consequences could further protect LGBTQIA+ individuals from ongoing harassment. LGBTQIA+ students and faculty may not report discrimination for many reasons, including because they do not feel supported by the institution, that their concerns will be seen as an overreaction (“snowflake”), or that the abuser will not be held accountable. Setting clear expectations for acceptable and unacceptable behaviors can not only deter abusers, but also encourage LGBTQIA+ individuals to report all inappropriate conduct.

LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM need to be counted.

With protection of SO/GI data under federal privacy laws and the continued ability to opt-out of responding, there is no reason to exclude SO/GI questions from data collection initiatives in STEM. The National Science Foundation (NSF) and professional STEM organizations must collect data about SO/GI, preferably in a disaggregated manner to better understand representation and challenges within individual groups. Refusal to collect this data means that LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM will remain the “invisible minority” and, as a field, we will continue failing to recognize and address systemic issues.

LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM need to be visible.

As I have emphasized throughout this series, lack of LGTBQIA+ visibility in STEM reinforces the notion that “we” do not belong in these fields. Our perceived absence has allowed heteronormative culture and gender stereotypes to persist in academia. This is not to say that everyone needs to be a stereotypical representation of their SO/GI; rather, that LGBTQIA+ individuals should be their authentic selves and not feel as though they have to change or hide to be a successful scientist.

This idea is predicated on assured protection from workplace discrimination. Efforts such as the blog 500 Queer Scientists (now at more than 1,700 scientists) and Out in STEM (oSTEM) club chapters have emerged as ways to encourage visibility, foster community and provide role models for aspiring LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM. These groups are helping to dissipate fears around being “out”, encouraging mentorship and student retention. I share a link to my 500 Queer Scientists post at the end of all my presentations to encourage others to join and continue to promote LGBTQIA+ visibility in STEM.

"Perseverance against failure, not against discrimination, should be the hallmark of a successful scientist. The stakes are high if we don’t address the challenges LGBTQIA+ individuals face in STEM careers: we will continue to lose talented, deserving people from these fields to the detriment of society."

-- Jordan Carter

LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM need career support.

Excluding LGBTQIA+ individuals, who are underrepresented in STEM, from diversity-related support mechanisms impairs career development. The NIH and professional STEM organizations should revise their diversity statements to officially recognize members of the LGBTQIA+ community as qualifying for underrepresented support mechanisms. The data, albeit sparse, that currently exists should support the need for these changes to promote retention and career development of LGBTQIA+ individuals.

I don’t have to look very hard to witness the “leaky pipeline” for LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM careers. I only have to think about my encounters with faculty and university leadership: I have not met a single openly LGBTQIA+ faculty member, program director, chair or dean. I am not the only one to notice this absence. Providing this career support, especially early on, will be vital to changing this for the future.

LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM need mentor support.

One key method of retaining LGBTQIA+ students in STEM fields is to provide relatable mentors who can offer guidance for the unique challenges that LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM face. However, there are important roles for faculty members of all “types” in supporting LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM. Since the faculty and staff largely establish the environment and culture at an institution, concerted efforts to eradicate implicit and explicit bias, educate about LGBTQIA+ issues in academia and in society, and develop best practices when mentoring underrepresented groups could have substantial impacts on LGBTQIA+ individuals.

One easy place to start is SafeSpace training, a program that introduces allyship and provides tactics on how to create more welcoming environments for LGBTQIA+ individuals. But this alone is not enough. Continuing education and additional, topic-specific resources should be developed and provided to mentors to ensure support for LGBTQIA+ students and faculty at all training levels.

Even without openly LGBTQIA+ faculty in my department, I have been very lucky to find ally mentors that support and advocate for me. For traditionally well-represented mentors (white, male), championing LGBTQIA+ trainees, nominating them for awards and presentations and helping them network within safe spaces are all helpful tactics. Mentoring from other underrepresented faculty member groups (non-white, female) who share similar challenges with discrimination and bias can also be particularly valuable for LGBTQIA+ individuals.

However, not all mentoring must occur at a specific institution or come from faculty. I believe that social media can be helpful for LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM to establish relationships with “out” mentors, but this not only requires faculty to be “out” on the platform, but able to dedicate already limited time to additional mentees. This may put undue burdens on a limited number of openly LGBTQIA+ faculty, a load that may improve with better recruitment and retention of additional diverse faculty. Mentors in other academic fields outside of STEM can also provide valuable insight and support for LGTBQIA+ trainees, but their field’s culture and values may be very different.

Additionally, the role of peer mentors is often undervalued. Interactions with other LGBTQIA+ trainees have enhanced my sense of belonging in my department and helped me navigate my SO/GI expression in academia.

The stakes
After leaving my summer undergraduate research lab, I questioned whether I should return to research. I liked it. I could see myself pursuing it as a career. But I didn’t know if I “fit” into that world. 

"This should not be a radical idea: every individual should be able to come to work/school and not be subject to open harassment or discrimination. In fact, all of the following suggestions are dependent on this basic notion."

-- Jordan Carter

Ultimately, with encouragement from a mentor with experience in academic research, I decided to join a new lab where I was able to thrive and gain valuable experiences that helped define my career goals. But I almost didn’t return. This one experience was a strong enough preview into the darker side of academic culture that it nearly stifled my enthusiasm for research altogether.

How many young scientists have had this same experience but didn’t find support and never returned?

I don’t share this experience just as a condemnation of homophobia, but also as an example of the power that good mentors can have to encourage and support LGBTQIA+ trainees.

Alan Turing was a gay pioneer in computer science. Alan Hart was a transgender radiologist who made advances in tuberculosis screening that saves thousands of lives. Sally Ride was the first American woman in space, and later posthumously revealed to be a lesbian (a revelation that would have ruined her career). Lynn Conway was a transgender scientist who helped develop modern CPUs, who was later fired after starting her transition.

Their work is ever-present throughout many aspects of our daily lives. Without their astounding courage and persistence in the face of profound discrimination, they never would have achieved these accomplishments; but they shouldn’t have had to be fearful or persevere in this way.

Perseverance against failure, not against discrimination, should be the hallmark of a successful scientist. The stakes are high if we don’t address the challenges LGBTQIA+ individuals face in STEM careers: we will continue to lose talented, deserving people from these fields to the detriment of society.

This Pride Month, the NIH, NSF and other professional societies in STEM should assess their current practices, engage with the LGBTQIA+ community for suggestions and institute changes to better account for and support their LGBTQIA+ stakeholders. Faculty and peers should evaluate their own behaviors and implicit biases, speak up and support LGBTQIA+ trainees and faculty and help change the culture of STEM to one of acceptance and collaboration. For LGBTQIA+ individuals, investigate your organization’s policies and work with trusted colleagues to make changes, report your SO/GI when asked on confidential surveys and consider coming “out” or being more open about your SO/GI if you are in a place that you can do so safely.

With continued attention, I believe that we can change the negative perception, and often negative reality, of STEM fields for LGBTQIA+ individuals. Ultimately, these efforts will support the country’s growing need for STEM professionals and eliminate our designation as an “invisible minority”.