HMS

Tabitha Rajashekar

Tabitha Rajashekar

Born in Narsapur, Andhra Pradesh, India Birth Year 1987 MSc in Mathematics at Madras Christian College, Chennai, India PhD in Mathematics from Visvesvaraya Technological University, Belgaum, India Lives in Bengaluru, India Associate Professor, Department of Mathematics, Christ University, Bengaluru, India

I was born in June 1975 in Narsapur, Andhra Pradesh, India. I studied at Nirmala High School, a prestigious school in the quiet town of Machilipatnam. When I was around 10 years old, I had the privilege of learning from a brilliant teacher who taught mathematics at my school and would occasionally read a story during class. Mathematics did not excite me much, but I fell in love with reading, most specifically, literature. Since the teachers who taught me mathematics in high school were strict, I dreaded my math teachers more than the subject itself. Some of the teachers expressed great displeasure that I was not following the subject at all.  The fact of the matter was, I was unable to grasp the concepts. I had neglected the subject for a long time.

I realized that studying mathematics made me logical, precise and optimistic in life. The subject helped me gain the confidence and skills to achieve much more than I ever aspired to.

Though I made efforts, I could not follow the subject at all. With time, I became cold and distant with mathematics. Being a mathematics teacher herself, my mother insisted that studying mathematics was essential until a certain point in a student’s life. Heeding her advice, I pursued mathematics. Though I struggled initially, I did not give up and made persistent efforts to learn it.  When I noticed in the first class of my undergraduate studies that a peer of mine performed very well in the mathematics class, I approached her for help, seeking guidance on strategies for learning the subject rather than on what to learn. In a couple of days that I spent with her, I picked up the skills to teach myself the subject and figure things out. There was no looking back since then. Gradually, I began to feel that mathematics was very interesting and not difficult to score well in. But love for mathematics developed much later during my Master’s as I learnt courses like abstract algebra and number theory. 

Why teaching?

I still cannot decide what I love the most: Is it the subject of mathematics, or is it the joy of teaching it, or is it the excitement of learning mathematics?

As much as I felt intimidated by my teachers, I was in awe of them as well. So much so that I made up my mind to become a teacher very early in life. I wanted to teach, and wanted my students to feel differently from how I did as a student and see me as a very approachable teacher. I also realised that the best way to learn anything was to teach someone. At every stage, I would look for peers who were struggling and volunteer to teach them. I realized that studying mathematics made me logical, precise and optimistic in life. The subject helped me gain the confidence and skills to achieve much more than I ever aspired to. I started teaching right after my postgraduation. I took maternity breaks and quit jobs whenever my presence was needed at home. But even during those breaks, I upgraded myself in academics or taught individuals so that I stayed in touch with the subject. My kids have more memories of their mummy studying rather than playing with them. But that is what gave me joy in life and kept me going. I have close to three decades of teaching experience. With great conviction, I can admit that my career in teaching is all about learning mathematics every day and getting paid for learning. I still cannot decide what I love the most: Is it the subject of mathematics, or is it the joy of teaching it, or is it the excitement of learning mathematics?

Why Graph Theory?

Years later, when I contemplated doing a PhD, I realised that graph theory was the most suitable option for me. The nature of this course is that anyone can start learning this at any point.  It is simple to learn, easy to visualise and totally captivating in mind. Completing a PhD was not an easy journey. Despite the challenges and lags, I tried my best! It was a great learning experience and a humbling one. When I started teaching again after my PhD, I took every opportunity to teach graph theory and promote research in it. 

What do I love to do?

I find great joy in teaching foundational courses such as discrete mathematics, graph theory and algebra. These courses promote a lot of dialogue in the classrooms, and I constantly learn from their queries and responses. Research in graph theory gives me a lot of fulfillment. It gives me immense pride when any of our students choose a career in teaching mathematics or research, and my joy is doubled when it is a female student. My message for future mathematicians would be to pursue the subject diligently.  Without a doubt, I can say that teaching mathematics gives us a sense of purpose and a sense of great pride. 

Published on April 22, 2026

Photo Credit: Tabitha Rajashekar

Posted by HMS in Stories
The Magic in the Numbers: The Story of Mathemagica

The Magic in the Numbers: The Story of Mathemagica

by Shreya Roychoudhury

My relationship with mathematics has always been one of absolute trust. In a world that is often chaotic and subjective, an equation always balances. It is a sanctuary of logic. But finding that balance in the real world, as a woman in STEM, has been a much harder problem to solve.

I am Shreya, and my journey involves navigating a landscape that wasn’t built for people like me. My M.Tech from the National Institute of Technology (NIT) Hamirpur was a defining chapter, but a solitary one. I earned my degree during the pandemic, completing rigorous coursework from behind a screen. While the world was in lockdown, I felt a specific kind of isolation that many women in tech know too well—the feeling of being a voice in a void. Even without the physical classroom, the subtle exclusion was palpable. It was in the assumptions that I might need “extra help” with complex algorithms, or the surprise that I, a woman, was pursuing such a technical specialization.

That digital distance gave me time to reflect. I realized that the “leak” in the STEM pipeline doesn’t start in postgraduate degrees; it starts much earlier. It starts when a young girl is told, explicitly or implicitly, that “Maths is too hard” or “Engineering is a boy’s game.” It starts with fear.

That realization was the seed for Mathemagica.

I founded Mathemagica not just to teach mathematics, but to rebrand it. My mission is to eradicate the paralyzing fear that stops young minds before they even start. I wanted to create a space where questions are celebrated, where “wrong” answers are just stepping stones, and where logic is taught as a language of creativity, not just a set of rigid rules.

When the road gets difficult—and it often does—I look to the past for strength. I think of Emmy Noether.

Albert Einstein called her the most important woman in the history of mathematics, yet her story is one of profound struggle against gender discrimination. In the early 20th century, despite her brilliance, she was denied a paid faculty position at the University of Göttingen simply because she was a woman. She had to lecture under a male colleague’s name, David Hilbert, just to be heard. She worked without pay, often without recognition, yet she revolutionized the fields of abstract algebra and theoretical physics.

A problem from the Mathemagica Instagram account, taken from one of the most prestigious engineering entrance exams of India (IIT-JEE, now known as JEE Advanced)
The solution to the above problem written by Shreya

Noether’s Theorem, which connects symmetries in nature to conservation laws, is fundamental to how we understand the universe today. If Emmy Noether could rewrite the laws of physics while a patriarchal society tried to erase her existence, then surely, I can help a young girl rewrite her internal narrative about being “bad at math.”

At Mathemagica, we channel that spirit. We don’t just solve sums; we build resilience. I use my background to create visual animations of mathematical concepts—showing students that calculus isn’t just text on a page; it’s the curve of a river or the acceleration of a car. I want them to see the math, not just memorize it.

I remember one particular student who came to me convinced she had a “math block.” She was terrified of geometry, seeing it as a jagged mess of lines she couldn’t untangle. We didn’t start with theorems. We started with art. We looked at the symmetry in leaves and the geometry of architecture. Slowly, the fear in her eyes was replaced by focus. The day she solved a complex proof on her own, she looked at me and said, “It’s actually kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”

That shift—from fear to beauty—is my victory.

Gender discrimination in STEM is still very much prevalent. It’s in the lack of funding for female founders, the scepticism in boardrooms, and the scarcity of female role models in textbooks. But I am fighting it the best way I know how: by arming the next generation with knowledge.

I am an engineer, a founder, and a woman who refuses to be subtracted from the equation. At Mathemagica, we are proving that while prejudice might be a variable we have to deal with, our potential is a constant. We are here to stay, and we are here to solve.

Acknowledgements

Building Mathemagica was never a solitary endeavor; its foundation is built on the endless encouragement of my mother and sisters, and the fierce support of my friends—Gogol, Arkadyuti, Shinjini, Riyanka, and Sanket—who stood by me, helping turn a quiet vision into a roaring reality.

About the author

Shreya Roychoudhury is the founder of Mathemagica (Instagram: @math.emagica). She was born in Kokata, India. She studied Electronics and Communication Engineering at Jalpaiguri Government Engineering College and received her Master’s in Technology in Communication Systems and Networks from the National Institute of Technology Hamirpur. Shreya currently lives in India.

Published on March 11, 2026.
Header Image: designed by Gourav Chakraborty

Posted by HMS in Blog
Mikaela Iacobelli

Mikaela Iacobelli

Born in Giulianova, Italy • Birth year 1987 • Studied Mathematics at Sapienza University of Rome, Italy • PhD in Mathematics from Sapienza University of Rome and École Polytechnique in Paris • Lives in Zürich, Switzerland • Associate Professor of Mathematics at ETH Zürich

I was born in a small town on the Adriatic coast, Giulianova (Italy), where I lived with my family until the end of high school. As a child I was very curious and I loved reading; at school I enjoyed many subjects, without feeling particularly drawn to mathematics. Outside school, however, my real passion was figure skating, and for years I was completely absorbed by sport.

During high school, while I was changing my mind many times about what I wanted to study at university (from humanities to engineering to medicine), I also had a bad injury that made me stop figure skating, and this forced me to think seriously about what I could do if I could no longer be an athlete. Around the same time, at the beginning of high school, I encountered my first proofs in Euclidean geometry, and the very concept of proof fascinated me immediately.

Then, in my last year of high school, a teacher lent me the books by Henri Poincaré on non-Euclidean geometry, and that was decisive for me, because it made mathematics feel much larger than the standard school programme; it showed me that one can develop concepts with strong internal coherence and genuine beauty even when they are not tied to something directly visible, and study them for their own sake, not because of immediate utility.

(…) I became truly passionate about algebra, especially representation theory, because I was attracted by the beauty of symmetry and by the feeling that, once you find the right structure, complicated objects become understandable

Long story made short, I moved to Rome and started a Bachelor in Mathematics at Sapienza University, and it is there that I became truly passionate about algebra, especially representation theory, because I was attracted by the beauty of symmetry and by the feeling that, once you find the right structure, complicated objects become understandable. During my Bachelor and Master I specialised in algebra, although at the same time I was also fascinated by mathematical physics, which remained, for a while, a parallel interest rather than my main direction.

Towards the end of my Master, I decided to apply for a PhD in a different area, namely kinetic theory and PDEs, and in November 2012 I started a joint PhD between Sapienza University of Rome and École Polytechnique (Paris). Since I had to adapt quickly, both mathematically and personally, I remember that period as intense: you learn new tools, you learn a new language, and you also live with the constant uncertainty that comes with academic transitions, where the next step is never fully guaranteed.

(…) what I like in [Vlasov-Poisson] questions is the interaction between several scales: you start from a microscopic description (many particles), and you try to understand what kind of macroscopic behaviour can emerge, and why

The PhD became even more demanding because I changed topic between the first and the second year, which meant that I started the thesis “for real” only in autumn 2013, while I defended in December 2015. In spite of the stress, I was also lucky, because I ended up working on problems that genuinely interested me, such as quantization of measures and, later, quasineutral limits for the Vlasov-Poisson equation. Even if the technical details are not the point of this story, what I like in these questions is the interaction between several scales: you start from a microscopic description (many particles), and you try to understand what kind of macroscopic behaviour can emerge, and why.

After the PhD my path continued through several moves, and the places I studied and worked in have shaped me in very concrete ways: Paris during the PhD, then Cambridge, then Durham, and finally Zürich, where I am now based at ETH. Before each move there is the application phase, with deadlines and interviews, and with the need to accept that sometimes things simply do not work out; in that period you often do not know in which country, city, or department you will end up next. Then, once you move, the relocation itself is a restart: you build a new routine, you make new friendships, you try to integrate into a new department, and you adjust to a different academic culture. At the same time, I have very fond memories of all the departments where I have worked, and I have kept meaningful contacts in each of those places.

In mathematics, being wrong is normal, because it is part of the creative process, and it is often the only way to understand what is really going on

At times, I also experienced environments that were highly competitive and not particularly welcoming, and, as a woman, I sometimes had the feeling that belonging was conditional; over time I learned not to use that atmosphere as a measure of my value, and to focus instead on good mathematics and collaboration.

Over the years I have also learned something very simple, which I now repeat often to students: in mathematics, being wrong is normal, because it is part of the creative process, and it is often the only way to understand what is really going on. For the same reason, I do not think that speed is a good proxy for depth. What matters more, at least for me, is steady work, genuine curiosity, and the habit of writing and explaining with care, trying to make the argument readable rather than to impress.

(…) I care a lot about creating an atmosphere where asking questions feels natural rather than embarrassing

What I love most about my job is teaching and, more broadly, supporting students and postdocs in their path. I enjoy the moment in which something difficult becomes understandable, and I care a lot about creating an atmosphere where asking questions feels natural rather than embarrassing. When students write to me again after years to tell me about their next steps and their achievements, I feel genuinely fulfilled.

Alongside teaching and mentoring, I also like the research side in a very concrete way: choosing a problem and trying to understand it seriously, reading beautiful mathematics done by others, and writing with care in a way that I would still be happy to read myself a year later. I also enjoy moving between topics and borrowing techniques from different areas, because this often helps me look at a familiar question from a new angle.

Looking back, my path has not been linear, and I changed direction more than once; however, what has stayed constant is curiosity, even when the topics and the places were changing. This is also what I like most about mathematics: there is room for many different trajectories, as long as you keep following questions that genuinely interest you.

Published on February 25, 2026.

Photo credit: Giulia Marthaler Fotografie on behalf of ETH

Posted by HMS in Stories
Nishu Kumari

Nishu Kumari

Born in India • Birth year 1996 • Studied M.Sc in Mathematics at the Indian Institute of Technology Kanpur • PhD in Mathematics from the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) Lives in Vienna, Austria PostDoctoral Researcher at the University of Vienna’s Faculty for Mathematics

I grew up in a village of Haryana, a state in Northern India. I was drawn to maths from an early age because I was good at solving maths problems. After completing college education from Haryana, I successfully passed the entrance exam for a prestigious institution in India, IIT (Indian Institute of Technology) Kanpur,  to pursue a Master’s degree in Mathematics. Since the exam is highly competitive, I consider being admitted to this institution as one of my greatest achievements.  

During my stay at IIT, I realised that maths is more about testing your understanding of concepts and less about calculations. That’s when I also realised grasping a mathematical idea gives me immense satisfaction and decided to study mathematics at a higher level.

Before my entrance exam I wasn’t even sure I would be able to rank highly enough to be admitted. It was a very big moment for my entire family when I did as I was the first person in my family to get admission at IIT . We never imagined that this would even be possible.

During my stay at IIT, I realised that maths is more about testing your understanding of concepts and less about calculations. That’s when I also realised grasping a mathematical idea gives me immense satisfaction and decided to study mathematics at a higher level. I joined the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) for my Ph.D.

After completing my doctoral studies last year, I am currently working as a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Vienna, Austria. I am part of a large research group focused on discrete random structures with my personal focus being on algebraic combinatorics. 

Algebraic combinatorics uses tools from algebra to solve problems in combinatorics, thereby acting as a bridge between the tangible world of counting objects and the abstract world of formulas. For instance, by using algebraic combinatorics we can solve everyday problems such as organising wedding seating charts where certain guests must sit together or better be kept apart, drawing up sports schedules where every team plays each other exactly once, or designing music shuffle algorithms that feel truly random by avoiding song groupings from the same artist.

I feel that many women, especially in India, might not know what exactly having a career in maths actually means or even that they can pursue a career in this field. I believe it is important to tell them that this is an option.

In terms of mathematical research, I have encountered a lot of diversity in Vienna. I have found a lot of great people to collaborate with around me, especially since our research group is fairly large with over 20 members. 

As an Indian woman in mathematics, the environment I trained in featured very few women. It was discouraging sometimes. I feel it would have helped me, if there had been more women doing what I was doing at the time.

I feel that many women, especially in India, might not know what exactly having a career in maths actually means or even that they can pursue a career in this field. I believe it is important to tell them that this is an option.

However, there have been some great ideas and steps to bring more women into existing institutions. I can see that the number of women being admitted into Indian maths institutes is increasing.

Women’s education in general is on the rise. In the village I grew up in, people weren’t keen on  women to study when I was young, but now they encourage  their girls to get an education. This is a rather unexpected side effect of the rising cost of living. As a result, women are now encouraged to pursue paid work.  

My dream for the future is to first build a career in academia. In future, I would like to return to India and work to inspire more Indian women to get involved in maths. This is my way of trying to help future generations of Indian women be more represented if they choose mathematics as their career path. 

Published on January 28, 2026.
Photo credit: Shivangi

Posted by HMS in Stories
Lisa Hefendehl-Hebeker

Lisa Hefendehl-Hebeker

Born in Germany • Birth year 1948 • Studied Mathematics at the Universities of Münster and Tübingen • Habilitation in Mathematics • Lives in Düsseldorf, Germany • Senior Professor of Mathematics Education at the University of Duisburg-Essen

I enjoyed math at school because I was good at the problems and really liked the inner clarity and regularity of the subject.

The transition to university mathematics was extremely difficult for me at first because I had to overcome a huge gap. But after a year, I made a breakthrough, and from then on, I gained a foothold and my appreciation for the subject grew steadily. 

I had my first experience of deep amazement when I was preparing for a linear algebra exam. When studying Jordan normal forms, I suddenly realized what a magnificent overview this provided of what initially seemed to be an overwhelming variety of matrices, and what potential mathematical theory formation can unfold in terms of intellectual organization.

The interplay between mathematical content and questions and observations about how people deal with it in work processes was to become an important guiding principle for my future career

In the second part of my studies, I had the opportunity to participate in a working group led by my future doctoral supervisor I and was able to listen to the insider communication between advanced members. This gave me important insights into what motivates professional mathematicians—which questions they find interesting and which methods and results they consider remarkable, how they base their assessments on these, but also which informal, often metaphorical means of communication they use in the run-up to formally elaborate representations. These experiences have greatly enriched my relationship with mathematics. The interplay between mathematical content and questions and observations about how people deal with it in work processes was to become an important guiding principle for my future career.

It so happened that I was assigned a dissertation topic that also involved a classification problem (four-dimensional quadratic division algebras over p-adic fields), and so a bow was drawn back to my first experience of admiring a mathematical achievement. While working on this, I also learned how inevitably successful problem solving in mathematics can depend on the favor of a good idea. You can prepare the ground for helpful ideas through persistent work, but you cannot force them. I was very grateful that productive ideas for solutions did eventually come to me in time.

(…) I read a lot of mathematical literature and noticed with regret that, over the course of history, presentations had become more sober and formal, and that human emotions and accompanying epistemological considerations had been largely stripped away in the face of mathematical discoveries

During my doctoral studies, I read a lot of mathematical literature and noticed with regret that, over the course of history, presentations had become more sober and formal, and that human emotions and accompanying epistemological considerations had been largely stripped away in the face of mathematical discoveries. The more I missed this aspect, the more my interest grew in the question of how mathematical knowledge develops in an individual, what thought processes and attitudes play a role in this, and how consciousness is refined during these processes. These were the reasons why I turned to mathematics education after completing my doctorate, and fortunately, life gave me the opportunity to make this field my profession.

After a long career, I am convinced that at every level of learning, it is possible to create an authentic picture of mathematics and convey an impression of how mathematics forms its own world of well-ordered structures with a striking internal consistency, and how this is precisely what makes it so effective in applications.

Published on January 14, 2026.

Photo credit: FAU/Ianicelli/Aslanidis

Posted by HMS in Stories
Surya Mathialagan

Surya Mathialagan

Born in India and Grew up in Singapore Studied Mathematics and Computer Science at Caltech • PhD in Computer Science from MIT • Lives in California, USA Postdoctoral Researcher at NTT Research, USA

What first drew me to mathematics wasn’t numbers or formulas – it was the satisfaction of knowing why something was true. I loved puzzles and logic problems from an early age, and my parents noticed. I was extremely fortunate because they did their best to find the support I needed to keep exploring that interest and progress in the math Olympiad scene. I later represented Singapore several times in the China Girls’ Mathematical Olympiad. Those experiences drew me in. I loved the structure of Olympiad problems – the feeling that, with enough persistence, all the puzzle pieces would eventually fit. But what fascinated me most was the idea of a proof. Proofs were like perfectly tuned explanations: elegant, inevitable, and deeply satisfying. I remember learning how to write one and being amazed that something as human as convincing someone of something could be captured by precise logic.

For example, is solving a Sudoku puzzle as easy as checking that a completed Sudoku grid is valid?

During my undergraduate studies at California Institute of Technology, I learned that the idea of “proofs” also lies at the heart of theoretical computer science. I encountered the seminal P vs NP problem, which asked whether “finding a proof” (NP) is as easy as “verifying a proof” (P). For example, is solving a Sudoku puzzle as easy as checking that a completed Sudoku grid is valid? On the face of it, the former seems much more difficult – but for all we know, both tasks could be equally “easy” (i.e. NP = P). This is one of the biggest unsolved mysteries in theoretical computer science, and it drew me in with the deep mathematical ideas that had been developed to understand it. I soon decided to pursue a joint major in mathematics and computer science to explore that theory more deeply.

I could not stop thinking about this, how much can we push the limits of what a proof can look like?

Later, I took a cryptography class that introduced a concept called zero-knowledge proofs, which changed the way I viewed proofs. Proofs didn’t have to be static write-ups – they could be interactive, even conversational in some sense. With this relaxation, zero-knowledge formalized the idea of convincing someone that something is true without revealing why. For example, you could prove that you know a solution to a Sudoku without giving away the solution itself. It seemed absurd, but it was possible. I could not stop thinking about this, how much can we push the limits of what a proof can look like?

I also had the first taste of pursuing mathematics research during my time at Caltech. It was the first time mathematics felt creative rather than competitive. I had to decide for myself what questions to ask and what counted as progress. It was the first time I’d worked on something where there wasn’t a clear notion of “done.” I enjoyed the freedom that I had to choose where I wanted the project to go. I was motivated to keep doing this, and I decided to pursue a PhD in theoretical computer science. 

During my PhD at MIT, I explored more problems in theoretical computer science, and landed on a problem that I am still obsessed with: constructing succinct proofs. Like zero knowledge, succinct proofs redefine what a “proof” can look like, but in a different way – they capture the idea that you can convince someone of a complex statement using a proof that is much shorter than the statement itself. For example, could we prove that a 100 x 100 Sudoku has a solution by providing a proof containing only 128 bits, instead of 10,000? At first, this seemed completely ridiculous. How could a proof possibly be shorter than the thing it proves? It shouldn’t even be possible. But instead of assuming an all-powerful prover, if we assume the prover has limited resources, say finite time – then it actually might be.

While I was at MIT, I had the privilege of being mentored by several incredible female professors whose sharpness and confidence quietly shifted how I saw myself.

That tension between truth and feasibility made me appreciate the “engineering” side of theoretical cryptography: sometimes the goal isn’t to prove that something exists unconditionally, but to show that it can exist within realistic limits. And one doesn’t need to stop there – one could also ask for a proof to be both succinct and zero-knowledge simultaneously! Indeed, succinct zero-knowledge proofs (sometimes called zk-proofs or zk-SNARKs) are now the backbone of blockchains, allowing large computations to be verified efficiently while maintaining privacy. 

Representation shapes what seems possible, even when no one says it out loud. I feel so incredibly lucky to have crossed paths with these incredible women.

While I was at MIT, I had the privilege of being mentored by several incredible female professors whose sharpness and confidence quietly shifted how I saw myself. Watching them made it feel more plausible that I could be a researcher or academic too. Earlier in my life, during the Math Olympiad or even at Caltech, I was often one of the few girls in the room. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but looking back, I realize how much visibility matters. Representation shapes what seems possible, even when no one says it out loud. I feel so incredibly lucky to have crossed paths with these incredible women.

Perhaps my favourite thing about doing research is that unlike Olympiad math, it doesn’t exist in a vacuum – research is deeply conversational. I’ve learned that sharing half-formed thoughts – defending, revising, and rebuilding them – is often how the most enjoyable mathematics happens. Each discussion shifts how you see the problem, and sometimes that’s enough to move it forward. I’ve also come to enjoy the part that happens after the proof is done. I enjoy giving talks, explaining the ideas to others, and seeing how they react. Good talks feel like an extension of research itself: a chance to start a conversation about mathematical ideas. 

I am now a postdoctoral researcher at NTT Research, a research lab based in California. I still work on constructing zero-knowledge succinct proofs and other related cryptography problems. Even though I work on theoretical computer science, by an ironic turn of events, much of my recent work uses traditional mathematical proofs to construct succinct proofs in the cryptographic sense. I am excited to see where else my research leads me. I hope to go into academia, where I can study these problems further. I hope that being here and doing this work helps make the field feel a little more possible for others who might not have seen themselves in it before.

Published on December 10, 2025.
Photo credit: Asaf Etgar

Posted by HMS in Stories
Reflecting on “Counted Out”: A Conversation About Maths, Power, and Inclusion

Reflecting on “Counted Out”: A Conversation About Maths, Power, and Inclusion

by the Her Maths Story team

On October 17th, we hosted a digital screening of the documentary Counted Out. This would not have been possible without the generous support of the Counted Out team and we would especially like to thank the director Vicki Abeles for this opportunity.

About the Film

Counted Out explores the invisible yet powerful role of mathematics in shaping our society. In today’s information economy, maths determines so much of our world — from who we date and the news we see, to the elections we vote in and the jobs we get. Through a blend of personal stories, expert interviews, and classroom scenes, the film asks a crucial question: What happens when only a small fraction of society feels confident engaging with maths and what could change if everyone did?

The documentary challenges the idea that being “a maths person” is an innate trait. Instead, it invites us to see maths as a language of empowerment — one that should be accessible to all, not reserved for a select few.

The film highlights a number of influential educators and the remarkable initiatives they have brought to life. A full list of contributors can be found here. Among those featured is civil rights activist Bob Moses, founder of The Algebra Project, an organisation that uses mathematics as a vehicle for social change and advocates for high-quality education for every child in the United States. Karim Ani is also profiled for his work on Citizen Math, a programme that offers immersive, real-world mathematics lessons for students in grades 6–12. The documentary further highlights Math for Love, an initiative created by Dan Finkel devoted to transforming mathematics teaching and learning through engaging games and innovative curriculum design.

The Screening

Before the screening began, we gathered briefly on Zoom to welcome participants and introduce the film. There were participants with various backgrounds, including a PhD student, a science communicator, and a maths educator. Then, everyone went on to watch the documentary. After the screening, our group came together again for a 40-minute discussion. All participants agreed that they enjoyed the film a lot.

Although it focuses primarily on the U.S. education system, its themes felt universal: from the early division of students into “maths” and “non-maths” categories to maths teaching at school being very different from maths taught at university level.

Several ideas stood out in our conversation: Math is for everyone. All children are mathematically talented; it’s the environment, not the individual, that determines how that talent develops. Good teachers make the difference. The challenge of finding and supporting teachers who can teach math effectively and empathetically was a recurring topic. Belonging matters. Especially for women and underrepresented groups, it can take years to feel accepted at the “maths table”. We need to keep that table open, and keep pulling up more chairs.

As one participant noted, “teachers should not judge maths students but focus on teaching them on different levels”. It’s a reminder that inclusion begins in the classroom but must also extend into workplaces, communities, and beyond.

What We Can Do

So what can each of us do to contribute to change?

We can support and uplift others, especially those from minority backgrounds. We can challenge stereotypes about who belongs in maths. And we can continue to create spaces for open conversation about how mathematics shapes our world and who gets to participate in that shaping.

Join the Movement

If you missed this screening, there are more opportunities to engage:
🎬 Join an upcoming screening: countedoutfilm.com/screenings
🎥 Host your own: countedoutfilm.com/host-a-screening

And, most importantly, take some time to reflect on the film’s core message:
Maths is not just about numbers — it’s about power, access, and inclusion.
When more of us see ourselves as “maths people,” we can shape a world that works for everyone.

Published on December 3, 2025.

Posted by HMS in Blog
The Piscopia Initiative & How to Train Your Allies present: What Can You Do?

The Piscopia Initiative & How to Train Your Allies present: What Can You Do?

A practical guide for those wishing to improve gender diversity in mathematical research

by Rosie Evans & Ashleigh Ratcliffe

Rosie Evans and Ashleigh Ratcliffe have written a booklet entitled “What can you do?” which is a practical guide for those wishing to improve gender diversity in the mathematical sciences. It is based on previous events run by The Piscopia Initiative and How to Train your Allies as well as advice from academics across the UK.

Content of the booklet

The booklet offers advice on topics such as effective mentorship, contextualising mathematics courses at undergraduate level and debunking myths about PhD study. The booklet explores how staff and students can support underrepresented genders based on their role and expertise, with the objective to empower those who don’t know how best to help. Each chapter discusses a few themes followed by a space for reflections or a template to fill in. In this blog, we highlight a couple of the chapters and suggest some ways that allies can help within their roles.

Invisible workload

One of the key themes addressed in this booklet is the concept of the “invisible workload” which refers to tasks that are done during a job that are generally classed as “non-promotable”, a term coined by Babcock et al. in their book “The No Club: Putting a stop to women’s dead-end work”. They found that women are more likely to be asked to do service tasks, and have a greater risk to their reputation should they say no. We talk in this chapter about how this applies to those in academia. Tasks like sitting on various panels and committees, having impromptu career chats with students, organising timetabling, often fall on women more heavily. They are tasks that are often worthwhile to the department, and can be time-consuming. However, they are not proportionally accounted for when it comes to progressing your career and can take away valuable time from research.

As a starting point we make a couple of recommendations on raising awareness about the distribution of these tasks. Our suggestions are pitched as individual changes, however this issue is something that needs institutional buy-in to have widespread impact. For example, if women are required to sit on certain committees or interview panels, an ally could complete some of the administrative preparation to reduce the overall time commitment or mental load needed. Furthermore, if a woman is needed, then their role should reflect their specific expertise. The tasks that don’t require specific skills (e.g. writing up meeting notes, booking rooms etc) could be covered by an ally who does not have as many demands on their time.

We noticed when writing this booklet that this “invisible workload” is already present for PhD students. Our community said that they often feel they do a disproportionate amount of (volunteer) service tasks for their universities. We suggest that departments keep track of the service work done by PhD students (talking at careers fairs, being a part of student-staff committees) and consider alternative methods of finding volunteers. For example, a rotating schedule is the fairest way to allocate roles and reduces any unconscious biases sneaking in when asking for volunteers. As an ally, when you need volunteers, we suggest you consider the following: 1) Am I asking the people who I know are most likely to say yes?; 2) Have I asked these people previously?; 3) Is the person I’m asking already committed to other extra-curriculars?

It can be easy to think “they can just say no if they’re busy”, but the research shows that women are less likely to say no and as a PhD student there is the added pressure of fitting into a department where you are the earliest in career stage. The onus should be shifted to the person seeking help rather than on the student to say no.

Contextualising mathematics

We also talk about how lecturers can add context to their modules that will contextualise the way maths has been constructed through history. We spoke to Dr Jamie Mason at Durham University about their experience contextualising their representation theory course last year by providing a brief history when each new mathematician was mentioned. They noted that in representation theory, it was predominantly white, European men who were recorded as making the main advancements and so tried to acknowledge this during the sessions.

“As I progressed through the course, I began to notice that the vast majority of mathematicians were from late 19th or early 20th Century Germany, with a few British or French exceptions. Certainly, they were all men.”

Jamie suggested the following questions to assess your own modules:

  • Are there any patterns in the mathematicians in this area (e.g., are they predominantly one gender)?
  • In the time frame of these mathematical advancements, were particular groups excluded from mathematics?

They suggested that if there was a mathematician from an underrepresented group at the time, to make sure that they are highlighted in lectures. On our webpages, we suggest a few resources that have already been made where you can find key examples to include.

Jamie also said that when introducing mathematicians, they tried to give interesting (or scandalous) facts about them. There’s more to mathematicians than just their work, and so acknowledging their wider life can open up discussions about the ethical considerations of mathematics.

“Adding a contextual narrative will help students realise that the mathematics they learn was not developed in a vacuum, but influenced by the time and place of the society. I hope that this helps them become more conscientious and well-rounded students.”

We provide a template table for lecturers to use to log the mathematicians that are mentioned within their courses, to help them spot patterns and think about how this could be addressed in lectures.

Breaking barriers

Other chapters in the booklet cover things you can do for a student and for a member of staff, with a key theme around career building and navigating a research career.

A key aim of the Piscopia Initiative is to raise awareness of the PhD option for students of a gender minority in the mathematical sciences. A barrier to entry, even with sufficient grades and research interest, is a lack of knowledge as to what a research career looks like. To attempt to fill this gap, Piscopia hosts information events for students to find out these details. Piscopia also hosts PiWORKS, a monthly seminar series aimed at undergraduates and masters students to see different areas of research and showcase the work of women and underrepresented gender researchers, and their routes into research. 

We acknowledge that opportunities can arise due to who you know or are introduced to. Sharing of information, opportunities and networks is invaluable, especially to first generation PhD students and minoritised groups. However, there is a caveat that just because something is aimed at a certain group, it does not mean you should send it to everyone belonging to that group. We suggest that you should send opportunities thoughtfully, especially if you think the person would be a good fit. It’s a great confidence boost for anyone to hear that a colleague thinks they are worthy of some new opportunity or prize, so try to be specific in your recommendations where possible.

We suggest building a spreadsheet of opportunities (not necessarily limited to specific groups, but make note of requirements where necessary), and provide a template to get you started. By building your awareness of opportunities outside of your own field or expertise means that niche grants and opportunities are more likely to reach the researchers that may benefit most from them.

How to access

A downloadable version of the booklet is available on both of our websites (The Piscopia Initiative | How to Train Your Allies), alongside a list of useful related resources and a HTML version of the booklet. Upon request, we can also provide a printable version.

About the initiatives

How to Train your Allies is a group founded in 2022, who create resources to support staff and students to be effective allies within their departments. Their website has materials about how to be an ally on both an individual scale as well as promoting allyship to your institution via an interactive workshop.

Website: https://sites.google.com/view/how-to-train-your-allies
Contact: howtotrainyourallies@gmail.com

The Piscopia Initiative was founded in 2019 and is a nationwide network of women and underrepresented genders with 16 committees at UK universities. Piscopia aims to improve gender diversity in mathematical research by highlighting role models, creating a supportive network to ask questions, encouraging a culture of belonging and hosting events to encourage more women and underrepresented genders to apply for a PhD.

Website: https://piscopia.co.uk/
Contact: piscopiainitiative@gmail.com

About the authors

Rosie Evans is currently a Learner Developer in Maths at Birmingham City University, having not long graduated with her PhD in Applied Mathematics from the University of Birmingham in July this year. Her PhD topic was focused on mathematical biology, specifically using differential equations to model hydrocortisone replacement treatment. Born in Shrewsbury, she first studied her BSc at the University of Exeter before returning back to the midlands for her masters and PhD. She has been an advocate for equality, diversity and inclusion throughout her career, acting as a committee member and then co-lead of the Piscopia Initiative from the years 2021-2024. Alongside this, she co-founded the “How to Train your Allies” group in 2022 during her PhD. Her goal is to help researchers not only understand why the gender gap exists in mathematical research, but to be empowered and equipped to help reduce it.

Ashleigh Ratcliffe is a current final-year PhD student and Graduate Teaching Assistant at the University of Leicester. Her research is in number theory and involves solving Diophantine equations, these are polynomial equations with integer coefficients for which we are trying to find integer solutions. Originally from Leicester, she studied a BSc in Mathematics at the University of Leicester. She is passionate about outreach and inclusion in mathematics and is a co-lead of the Piscopia Initiative and regularly writes for and edits Chalkdust magazine.

References

[1] Evans, Rosie, and Ratcliffe, Ashleigh. What can you do? – A practical guide for those wishing to improve gender diversity in mathematical research [Booklet], 2025. Available at: https://how-to-train-your-allies.github.io/what-can-you-do/ and https://piscopia.co.uk/what-can-you-do/

[2] Babcock, Linda, Brenda Peyser, Lise Vesterlund, and Laurie Weingart. The no club: Putting a stop to women’s dead-end work. Simon and Schuster, 2022.

Published on November 26, 2025.
Credit graphics of the women on the header image: Meg Evans (Instagram: @megserplet_artist)

Posted by HMS in Blog
Ilse Fischer

Ilse Fischer

Born in Klagenfurt, Austria • Birth year 1975 Studied Mathematics at the University of Vienna in Austria • PhD in Mathematics from the University of Vienna Austria • Lives in Vienna, Austria Professor of Mathematics and Vice-Dean, Faculty of Mathematics, University of Vienna

I was drawn to maths not because of my background, but because it came naturally. I loved being good at maths. Even though my father was a university professor in math education, he never pushed me into this field.

My inspiration instead came from the simple content we learned at school. I enjoyed mathematics as a creative process with very strict rules and gained immense satisfaction from overcoming these rules to achieve success. If I am perfectly honest, another reason was that I was just really good at maths in school, which boosted my ego. I enjoyed it when my peers asked me for help.

My Career Path – Between Klagenfurt and Vienna

After studying mathematics for 5 years at the University of Vienna, I returned to my hometown, Klagenfurt. I really appreciated the relaxed pace of living in Klagenfurt compared to Vienna. The position was in applied mathematics, with a focus on optimization. Optimization in mathematics refers to calculations identifying the best solution among a set of alternatives, such as the quickest route via train from Vienna to Paris if one transfers at a third train station. This was quite different from my original focus on pure mathematics.

To me this offer in pure mathematics was akin to winning the lottery, which is why there was no question that I would return to Vienna.

During my time in Klagenfurt, my mathematical taste was strongly shaped by my professor, who, like me, really enjoyed mathematical problems that are easy to state but hard to solve.

After a few years in Klagenfurt, I ended up back in Vienna having an offer for a postdoctoral position. To me this offer in pure mathematics was akin to winning the lottery, which is why there was no question that I would return to Vienna. Here, I returned to my initial field of pure mathematics. My specialty now is enumerative combinatorics. In enumerative combinatorics, our job is to count possibilities such as how many ways can you shuffle a deck of cards or how many different routes exist between two points in a grid.

Why Combinatorics?

Combinatorics used to be a bit of an underdog in mathematics.

What I love about combinatorics is that the problems are very easy to state, but hard to prove. Furthermore, it’s a very accessible field that does not require extensive reading in order for doctoral students to start working in it.

Combinatorics used to be a bit of an underdog in mathematics. However, it is valuable for applications in diverse fields such physics and statistics, and therefore now seems to have become a rising star, which I find really satisfying to witness.

Some people, not least my father, ask why I chose pure mathematics over applied mathematics. What drives me particularly in pure mathematics is the aesthetic aspect, the desire to do something nice. I also really enjoy working on blue skies research (where the immediate applications are not yet known) and chasing deep discoveries. This can lead to revolutionary and useful outcomes in the long run that we can’t even predict at the time of doing the work, which feels very inspiring.

My Advice to other Mathematicians

My advice to others would be to always follow your own taste and concentrate on your chosen field. I believe success comes from motivation rather than pressure.

Yet over time, I started to appreciate that a very satisfying aspect of mathematics is establishing intellectual connections with other people.

My second piece of advice is to forge intellectual connections and work collaboratively. I started out working alone, partially because, when I was applying for positions in the early 2000s, people looked closely at whether you had single-authored papers. It was also what suited me best at the time, probably due to the fact that I was a woman in a male-dominated field. Yet over time, I started to appreciate that a very satisfying aspect of mathematics is establishing intellectual connections with other people.

My Thoughts on Women in Mathematics

When it comes to the struggles of women in mathematics, I do believe a contradiction exists. I am on a lot of hiring committees, and I have observed that if women publish with other people, the committee members often end up saying, “Well, she didn’t do it.” And I find it incredibly frustrating that this still happens.

This is why I would say as a female mathematician, a smart choice is going for a balance of single-author papers and collaborations. But maybe more importantly, you should do what you think suits you best.

I hope that we will get to a point in the future where a woman can be an excellent mathematician without it being remarked upon as something out of the ordinary.

Another aspect about being a woman in mathematics that frequently causes me irritation is that people feel very surprised when they find out that I am a mathematician. When they hear this, they usually assume that I’m a high school teacher. Then they find out that I’m a professor and are even more surprised. I don’t think that’s good news, and I do think that this is just down to my gender.  While it creates some funny situations, it shouldn’t be the case in 2025.

I hope that we will get to a point in the future where a woman can be an excellent mathematician without it being remarked upon as something out of the ordinary.

Published on November 12, 2025.
Photo credit: Joseph Krpelan

Posted by HMS in Stories
Association for Women in Mathematics at the SIAM/CAIMS 2025 Annual Meeting

Association for Women in Mathematics at the SIAM/CAIMS 2025 Annual Meeting

by Jamie Haddock & Anna Little

Introduction to the Association for Women in Mathematics (AWM)

The Association for Women in Mathematics (AWM) is a nonprofit professional society, founded in 1971, whose mission is to create a community in which women and girls can thrive in their mathematical endeavors and to promote equitable opportunity and gender-inclusivity across the mathematical sciences. The AWM has around 4500 members. Over 3000 of its members are students, many of whom belong to one of the over 130 AWM Student Chapters at their home institutions.  AWM workshops at U.S. national meetings such as the Annual meeting of the Society for Industrial and Applied Mathematics (SIAM) and the Joint Mathematics Meetings are organized by one or more of  the 26 active AWM Research Networks (AWM-RNs). AWM-RNs are intentional communities of researchers working in a common subdiscipline of the mathematical sciences in which senior mathematicians lead projects and mentor graduate student and early-career mathematicians. The program’s goal is to foster long-term collaborations and knowledge sharing, with each cohort of mathematicians helping to anchor the next in a successful mathematical career. 

AWM at the Society for Industrial and Applied Mathematics / Canadian Applied and Industrial Mathematics Annual Meeting in 2025

The Society for Industrial and Applied Mathematics (SIAM) Annual Meeting was held in conjunction with the Canadian Applied and Industrial Mathematics (CAIMS) Society in Montréal, Québec, Canada from July 28–August 1, 2025. As part of this conference, AWM hosted a series of events during the two-day AWM Workshop held July 28–29.  

The 2025 AWM Workshop was organised by the Women in the Science of Data and Mathematics (WiSDM) Research Network. Researchers in this network are broadly interested in problems motivated by working with real world data.  Topics of particular interest recently have included variational and deep learning models for image processing and computer vision, randomized iterative methods for tensor decomposition and regression problems, applications of optimal transport within biological data, and robust manifold estimation. The WiSDM Research Network has held four research collaboration workshops biannually since 2017.  

Co-organizers of this year’s AWM Workshop at SIAM/CAIMS: Jamie Haddock and Anna Little

The authors, Jamie Haddock and Anna Little, were invited to co-organize this year’s AWM Workshop after their participation in the 2023 WiSDM workshop at the Institute for Pure and Applied Mathematics (IPAM), and were excited to contribute to this important annual community-building activity.  

Picture of Jamie Haddock
Jamie Haddock

Jamie is the Iris & Howard Critchell Assistant Professor of Mathematics at Harvey Mudd College.  Her research focuses on data science, optimization, and machine learning, with particular interest in randomized iterative methods.  She is a three-time WiSDM workshop participant – she participated in 2019, was a project co-lead in 2023, and a project lead in 2025.   Additionally, she has been an active member of AWM since graduate school, organizing mentoring and research activities for early-career mathematicians, and is an active member of SIAM, including acting as secretary for the SIAM Activity Group on Data Science and sitting on the Organizing Committee for the SIAM Conference on the Mathematics of Data Science in 2024. 

Anna Little

Anna is an Assistant Professor of Mathematics at the University of Utah and her research interests include geometric and graph-based methods for high-dimensional data analysis and signal processing with group invariant features. She was a participant in both the 2017 and 2019 WiSDM events; the mentorship she received was extremely valuable in helping her establish a strong research trajectory, motivating her to serve as a research group leader at both the 2023 and 2025 WiSDM events. Together, Jamie and Anna sought to bring the collaborative and inclusive spirit of the WiSDM Research Network to the SIAM Annual Meeting.

Activities at the AWM Workshop at SIAM/CAIMS 2025

The AWM Workshop provided an opportunity for community building among participants across career stages and all research areas in applied and computational mathematics, and was comprised of several exciting events: a two-part minisymposium featuring several speakers from the 2023 WiSDM Research Workshop at IPAM, a mentoring luncheon where each student or postdoc participant met with their paired mentor, the AWM–SIAM Sonia Kovalevsky Lecture, a panel discussion with four mathematicians at a variety of career stages, and a minisymposterium in which graduate students and postdoctoral fellows presented their research and received feedback from mentor-judges.  Below, we dive more deeply into the career panel and minisymposterium to give readers a chance to experience what it was like to be at the workshop for themselves!

The career panel at the AWM Workshop was wide-ranging and candid, offering both practical strategies and personal reflections from mathematicians at different career stages. Panelists shared how they approach choosing research directions in data science, emphasizing the importance of reading survey articles broadly, engaging in interdisciplinary conversations, and being willing to pivot when a project stalls. They spoke openly about mentorship and sponsorship, noting that while careers can be built without strong mentors, cultivating a network of advisors and advocates can be transformative, especially in male-dominated spaces. On the ongoing challenge of balancing research, teaching, and service, panelists encouraged participants to practice saying “no” to requests that don’t align with their goals, to prioritize external professional activities that build networks, and to protect their time. They also addressed the stresses of uncertainty in today’s academic job market, urging students and postdocs to focus on what they can control, to build supportive networks, and to remain open to unexpected opportunities. Themes of burnout and imposter syndrome resonated strongly with the audience; panelists reminded participants to seek joy in their work, to accept that careers progress in nonlinear seasons, and to value the unique perspectives they bring to the field. The conversation concluded on an encouraging note: senior panelists underscored the responsibility and opportunity to make a difference “in the room” as one advances in a career, and urged participants to pursue problems, collaborations, and communities that inspire them.

The AWM minisymposterium for graduate students and recent Ph.D. recipients was very successful, and the room was full of exciting research.  The minisymposterium has become one of the most valuable components of the AWM Workshop, particularly for graduate students and postdoctoral researchers. For many participants, it is their first opportunity to present their work in a national forum and to receive feedback from established mathematicians outside of their home institutions. This format not only allows early-career researchers to refine their communication skills and develop confidence in sharing their results, but also fosters one-on-one conversations that often lead to collaborations, invitations to speak, or mentoring relationships. The supportive, constructive environment of the minisymposterium is especially impactful in helping young researchers see themselves as part of the broader applied mathematics community and in validating the significance of their contributions at an early stage in their careers.

The authors are deeply grateful to all who made the 2025 AWM Workshop a success. They found the workshop both energizing and inspiring and felt it was a privilege to help create a space where early-career researchers felt seen and supported, where mid-career mathematicians could share their wisdom, and where the entire AWM–SIAM community could come together.  Jamie and Anna left Montréal with new ideas and a renewed sense of the importance of intentional community building within mathematics. They encourage those interested in data science to join the Women in the Science of Data and Mathematics (WiSDM) Research Network, and hope to see many of you at the next AWM Workshop. 

Get Involved! 

AWM is a network of mathematicians who support women in the mathematical sciences, and all are welcome to join this community! To learn more about how to get involved with research groups, check out the AWM website. Don’t see your research field? Consider starting a network. Do you attend SIAM conferences and are you interested in being a mentor or poster judge? Contact the AWM SIAM Committee chair.  Social change doesn’t just happen, and neither do the programs!

Published on October 29, 2025.
Photo credit header: SIAM

Posted by HMS in Blog
Poetry as Lens: Two Historical Women Mathematicians

Poetry as Lens: Two Historical Women Mathematicians

by Jessy Randall

In 2015, I attended a talk on Sarah Frances Whiting given by Colorado College physics professor Barbara Whitten. Whiting was part of a group of women who cataloged stars at Harvard University in the late 19th century. I sat in the audience scribbling notes about these amazing women – I always listen better with a pen in my hand – and got particularly interested when Whitten showed a slide of a murky blob, an example of the star photographs these women used in their work. To my eyes, it looked like nothing much. Really just a smear.

After the talk, I looked up additional information. (Did I mention I’m a librarian?) I learned that one of Whiting’s colleagues, Annie Jump Cannon, cataloged hundreds of thousands of stars and, years later, could still recognize and identify the blurry photos she’d used doing that work. I pictured her being shown a blobby shape and saying “Oh, yes, that’s good old XZ437583, I remember that one.” Or “Hello, PQ2843b!” I started writing poems about Cannon, persona poems written from what I imagined to be her point of view. 

Annie Jump Cannon (1863-1941)
(first appeared in Asimov’s)
 
1. Annie Jump Cannon Cataloged Stars
 
Annie Jump Cannon
cataloged stars.
 
The work was tedious.
The pay was terrible.
 
But every day for forty years
she went to work
and held the universe together.
 
2. Annie Jump Cannon Goes Home from the Lab
 
She can’t stop seeing them:
the photographs,
black and white smears of stars.
 
They look like throwaways.
They look like nothing.
But not to her, to her they’re clear
 
as alphabets, because 
she’s good at what she does.

Her name led to others, and I found myself spending my lunch hour in the science section of the Colorado College library stacks. Soon my desk was piled high with thick books about historical women in STEM fields. There were SO MANY MORE women scientists and mathematicians than I ever knew. Than I ever dreamed! I wrote a lot more poems. 

Around this time, some powerful men bragged that with enough fame and power, they could get away with anything, including sexual assault. This made me really mad. So mad that I decided to do something about it! But as a librarian and a poet, what could I do, exactly? Well, I wrote a collection of poems about historical women in STEM fields. Maybe not the most effective form of resistance, but the project staved off my feelings of helplessness and hopelessness. 

I got particularly attached to a set of “biobibliographic source books” edited by Louise S. Grinstein,* and went through them page-by-page looking for women to write about. Frequently, some detail of the lives or work of these women leapt out as a perfect metaphor. When I read the entry on Soviet mathematician Nina Bari, the phrase “mathematics for ladies” led to this poem:

Nina Karlovna Bari (1901-1961)
(first appeared in Strange Horizons)
 
After the revolution, she passed the boys’ exam 
and became the first woman in the Luzitania,
students of Nikolai Luzin known for 
their interest in a new kind of math,
 
descriptive math, something more like 
philosophy, sometimes described as
mathematics for ladies.
 
This particular lady worked on functions
converging “almost everywhere”
(a precise term in trigonemetricheskii)
 
and she herself converged almost everywhere, too:
Paris, France; Lvov, Poland; Bologna, Italy;
even a mountain pass named for her lover, Nemytski,
whom she later married.
 
She married Nemytski, but some say her real love
was Luzin. They say she was despondent at his death,
and that when she was not yet sixty (in other words, 59), 
she threw herself in front of a Moscow Metro train.
 
There’s no way to know. It could have been an accident.
But when a woman had made her name calculating 
functions that converge almost everywhere,
we have to think she knew what she was doing.

In the 1920s in the Soviet Union, “mathematics for ladies” (математика для дам / matematika dlya dam) was a derogatory term for descriptive mathematics such as function theory. As in English, the word for “ladies” in Russian has a different connotation than the word for “women” – ladies (дам / dam) being more fancy and posh, not the Soviet ideal of real-world working women (женщины / zhenshchiny). 

I found this idea pretty hilarious. A special kind of math just for women? Different math for different genders? Aren’t numbers the same for everyone? Numbers and formulas and equations don’t change depending on your gender. But then I remembered those statistics about the gender pay gap – that for every dollar a man makes, women make 84 cents, or 90 cents, or 66 cents, depending whom you ask. 

In Bari’s time, math was supposed to be for practical purposes: engineering, architecture, and so on. “Mathematics for ladies” wasn’t real math – real mathematicians considered it to be useless, more like philosophy than math. Much has changed in the past hundred years. Abstract math, or pure math, is now standard in college and university math programs, and pure math scholars receive as much respect as their comrades in applied math (if, perhaps, not always as much funding).

For more information about the books, links to online poems, and subject indexes, visit http://tinyurl.com/MathforLadies.

Literature

*Women of Mathematics: A Biobibliographic Sourcebook. Ed. Louise S. Grinstein and Paul J. Campbell. New York: Greenwood, 1987.

*Women in Chemistry and Physics: A Biobibliographic Sourcebook. Ed. Louise S. Grinstein, Rose K. Rose, and Miriam H. Rafailovich. New York: Greenwood, 1993.

*Women in the Biological Sciences: A Biobibliographic Sourcebook. Ed. Louise S. Grinstein, Carol A. Biermann, and Rose K. Rose. New York: Greenwood, 1997.

About the author

Born in Rochester, New York, USA. Studied English Literature at Columbia University in New York City. Master’s Degree in Library Science from UNC-Chapel Hill. Lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Curator of Special Collections at Colorado College and author of two collections of poetry about historical women in STEM fields: Mathematics for Ladies (Goldsmiths Press, 2022) and The Path of Most Resistance (Goldsmiths Press, 2025).

More information: http://tinyurl.com/MathforLadies

Published on September 17, 2025.
Photo credit header: Nethery Wylie

Posted by HMS in Blog
Mihyun Kang

Mihyun Kang

Born in Jeju, South Korea • Studied Mathematics Education at Jeju National University in Jeju, South Korea • PhD in Mathematics from Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology (KAIST) in Daejeon, South Korea  • Lives in Graz, Austria • Full Professor at Graz University of Technology (TU Graz)

In a way, becoming a Professor of Mathematics was probably always on the cards for me. Even as a child, the only subject I remember enjoying at school was mathematics and so pursuing higher education in this field felt natural.

I had both my parents’ support and encouragement to pursue this path in life. My father, a professor himself, gave me an early insight into the profession and all it entails. What I saw was mostly positive and so it was maybe no big surprise that I ended up in academia as well.

After finishing my PhD in 2001, I made my way to Berlin, Germany, to become a Postdoc at Humboldt University. Almost everything there – maths, academic culture, language, people’s attitude, as well as everyday life outside the university – was new and sometimes challenging to me, but I loved it. In this new world I could be what I was, without feeling the need to try to overly adjust myself to the standards and expectations of society.

I spent ten years in Germany, managing to progress from a postdoc to Heisenberg Fellow and then to Acting Professor at the University of Munich. I also used this time to learn the German language, which I now speak fluently. But I must say it took quite a few years to be able to teach in German, because the language of maths research is English and I taught only small Master’s courses, also in English.

Only later, when I started to teach Bachelor’s courses in German for engineering students and took part in academic administration as a Senate member of TU Graz, did I become more confident in using German in teaching and daily discussions.

I believe my approach of bridging multiple fields has contributed greatly to my career success, as it allows me to be more inventive and recognise patterns among seemingly different objects and mathematical behaviours that can only be discovered by thinking in an interdisciplinary manner.

For the past 13 years I have been a full professor at TU Graz in Austria, where I lead the Combinatorics Group. In my work, I draw inspiration from many neighbouring disciplines. My main research is centered around the phase transition phenomenon, partly because it appears in many different disciplines, including combinatorics, discrete probability, computer science, statistical physics, and network sciences. In fact, this phenomenon is almost everywhere including daily life, e.g., the change from ice to water and then to gas. 

I believe my approach of bridging multiple fields has contributed greatly to my career success, as it allows me to be more inventive and recognise patterns among seemingly different objects and mathematical behaviours that can only be discovered by thinking in an interdisciplinary manner.

Doing research in mathematics involves a lot of collaboration with mathematicians from all over the world. I greatly enjoy discussions with mathematicians from different mathematical and cultural backgrounds.

Although mathematics may appear too abstract and detached from real life to most people, everybody has been exposed to hot topics such as digital security or artificial intelligence, which, in fact, rely heavily on progress in mathematics.

In addition to being part of this international network, my participation in the SFB (Research Network) “Discrete random structures: enumeration and scaling limits” – supported by a science and research funding organization in Austria – gives me a rewarding opportunity to forge closer collaborations with mathematicians coming from top universities in Austria. This research network brings together researchers from the fields of combinatorics and probability and even touches on areas such as quantum physics.

Although mathematics may appear too abstract and detached from real life to most people, everybody has been exposed to hot topics such as digital security or artificial intelligence, which, in fact, rely heavily on progress in mathematics. I therefore strongly believe that maths is invaluable to our society and a field worth pursuing a career in.

Published on September 3, 2025.
Photo credit: TU Graz

Posted by HMS in Stories