The invisible minority: LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM face several ongoing challenges

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 one. Read part two here. Read part three here.

My first time presenting my research to the Neuroscience Department was the week after Charleston Pride. My hair was purple and my nails were painted like a rainbow. I was nervous. Not about my science, though – that, I was excited to talk about. I was worried about how I would be perceived by others.

Would they take me seriously? Would they be hostile, either openly or behind my back? Would they treat me differently?

Regardless of my fears, I knew that I couldn’t go back into hiding. I spent most of my life burying that piece of me away so that no one in the small town I grew up in would see it. As a 9-year-old boy, I could think of nothing worse than being labeled as “gay”. I observed how my classmates learned to use “gay” as an insult or as a synonym for “bad” or “stupid”. I saw how adults, even ones I loved and respected, talked about gay people. I watched the way gay men were portrayed on TV or discussed by the media.

I had learned to be ashamed of myself for being gay, so I hid my sexuality away.

But despite my best efforts, they saw it anyways; in the “girly” movement of my hand that I thought nothing of; in the tenor of my voice when I got excited; in my desire to hang out with the girls on the monkey bars at recess instead of playing football. They decided that I was different and, to use their word, a “fag”.

"Overall, there are only a few studies available that assess or describe the experiences of LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM, but they show numerous challenges across disciplines and career timelines."

-- Jordan Carter

As I got older, what once was my biggest secret, became something I learned to proudly claim. I found support in trusted teachers and peers when I “came out”. I learned about the concept of Pride and about “gay culture”. I met other LGBTQIA+ friends and allies, especially when I moved to Charleston for college. With this acceptance, I became increasingly comfortable with my sexuality and how I express myself, overcoming my internalized homophobia.

But standing in front of my department that day… my shame and fears came rushing back. I had just attended an event dedicated to taking pride in my sexuality, but in that moment, I was transported back to my small town. I wanted to be invisible.

Unfortunately, questions and feelings like these are common for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, and asexual (LGBTQIA+) individuals; especially those in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) careers.

While there has been increasing social acceptance and more concerted efforts to understand the experiences of LGBTQIA+ people in STEM careers in recent years, there are still issues in the field and strong anti-LGBTQIA+ bias and stigma in many parts of the U.S. In this three-part series, I wanted to highlight some of the ongoing challenges faced by LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM, at times drawing from my own experiences. While my perspective is as a trainee in academic biomedical sciences, studies show these same issues are also largely applicable to other STEM careers.

The invisible minority
June is Pride Month, the time of year for the LGBTQIA+ community to take pride in their identity and to celebrate the advances that have been made in acceptance and equality. But this time also allows us to identify problems and advocate for improvements. During this month, LGBTQIA+ people are increasingly “visible” in public (parades, events, etc.), an effort to show that we exist and aren’t ashamed of our sexual orientation (SO) or gender identity (GI).

SO describes an individual’s romantic attraction to others (heterosexual [straight], homosexual [gay/lesbian], bisexual, pansexual, asexual), while GI refers to one’s perception and expression of themselves as male, female or both/neither (cisgender [same gender as sex assigned at birth], transgender [gender different than sex assigned at birth] or nonbinary [some combination of traditionally masculine and feminine attributes]).

In academia, the LGBTQIA+ community is often referred to as an “invisible minority”, because we may intentionally or unintentionally hide our SO/GI (as opposed to “visible” racial minorities that could not hide their minority status even if they wanted to). However, this is not the sole cause of our ongoing “invisibility”; rather, LGBTQIA+ “invisibility” in STEM is driven by inadequate data collection and a culture of fear facilitated by discrimination, bias, a lack of representation and poor career support.

"I owe it to myself and to other LGBTQIA+ people that I come across to be authentic; to be visible in an environment where being invisible is a much easier option."

-- Jordan Carter

Overall, there are only a few studies available that assess or describe the experiences of LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM, but they show numerous challenges across disciplines and career timelines. The problems for LGBTQIA+ individuals begin as students. Often, LGBTQIA+ students fail to receive adequate mentoring and support because of their “invisible minority” status. Perhaps, in part, due to this “invisibility”, LGBTQIA+ students are 10% less likely to remain in STEM majors after four years of college than their heterosexual counterparts. Interestingly, LGTBQIA+ students were more likely to participate in undergraduate research, a factor that improves STEM retention regardless of SO/GI. Despite this mitigating factor, they still had 10% lower retention. This suggests that problems in the academic environment, like pervasive heterosexist culture and a lack of mentor support, contribute to the decreased retention in most cases.

Unfortunately, for those individuals who continue in academia, the problems do as well. In a recent study, LGBTQIA+ STEM professionals reported having fewer career opportunities and resources, experiencing more social exclusion and harassment by colleagues, having greater rates of depression, insomnia, and stress from work, and feeling less comfortable whistle-blowing compared to their heterosexual colleagues.

All told, these limited studies demonstrate the need for more thorough investigations into outcomes for LGBTQIA+ individuals in STEM.

So why isn’t it happening?

Choosing visibility
In the days following my departmental presentation, I anxiously awaited the backlash. But none came. No criticism of my colorful hair or painted nails in a thinly-veiled conversation about “professionalism”. No differential treatment or rumors behind my back. I am incredibly lucky to train in a supportive environment where I can be open about myself and not face the open hostility that others in the community have.

This is not to say that it has all been easy or that I haven’t changed my behavior to better fit in: my hair is back to a natural color and I rarely paint my nails anymore. But I owe it to myself and to other LGBTQIA+ people that I come across to be authentic; to be visible in an environment where being invisible is a much easier option. For various reasons, not everyone makes the same decision, and even if they do there is still limited visibility for LGBTQIA+ scientists.

Even though I am more confident and have made the decision not to hide, whenever I present at conferences or to new groups, I still get the same feeling of anxiety about acceptance that I did before.

Will it ever go away?

In Part 2, I will discuss how systemic failures in data collection and individual reasons for hiding one’s SO/GI contribute to this lack of LGBTQIA+ visibility in STEM.