HMS

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
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
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
Kateryna Marynets

Kateryna Marynets

Born in Uzhhorod, Ukraine • Birth year 1988 • Studied Applied Mathematics at Uzhhorod National University in Ukraine • Highest Degree PhD in Differential Equations from Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv in Ukraine • Lives in Delft, The Netherlands • Occupation Assistant Professor in Applied Mathematics at Delft Institute of Applied Mathematics, Delft University of Technology

4 countries, 5 languages, and 1 mathematics…

Was it my big dream to pursue a career as a math professor? No, it wasn’t. In fact, when our primary school teacher asked who we wanted to become in the future, I said that I wanted to be a pediatrician. But that was only because my parents are doctors, and my grandmother was leading the children’s department in the hospital at that time. To be honest, medicine has never been my thing—but as a kid, you tend to take on the role models you see around you. And I wasn’t an exception.

Many years have passed, and mathematics and languages have become inseparable parts of my life.

In Ukraine, we say that children inherit the talents of their grandparents. And with my grandparents working in the fields of physics and mathematics, following that logic, I was probably predestined for these directions. Interestingly enough, those were indeed my favorite subjects at school. I really enjoyed solving math puzzles and diving into the laws of physics. I was extremely lucky to have great teachers who recognized my interest and kept me engaged by offering challenging problems—even though my school had a linguistic focus, and the sciences didn’t occupy much of our curriculum. Many years have passed, and mathematics and languages have become inseparable parts of my life. Those seemingly different disciplines have a lot in common: languages help in sharing my mathematical expertise to a multilingual community, and logical thinking, developed through solving mathematical problems, helps in mastering a new language.

Obtaining a PhD brought new opportunities, but it also came with a lot of pressure—pressure to deliver, pressure not to disappoint.

The path to my current position was long and quite “nonlinear”—just like the math problems I work on. In my last year of high school, I seriously considered studying international economic relations, with applied mathematics as a second option. It was the study program where I could combine my passion for mathematics and foreign languages. But in the end, I chose applied mathematics, and I’ve never regretted the decision I made.

After graduation, I was offered a teaching position at my home university, which I combined with enrollment in a doctoral program. I studied boundary value problems for systems of nonlinear differential equations and developed iterative methods for approximating their solutions. It was a great combination of analysis and work with mathematical software—something I still enjoy doing. Back then, I could conduct research at my home institution but had to defend my thesis at a different university. I still remember all those trips to Kyiv, accompanied by my parents, who helped me organize everything…I am incredibly thankful for all their patience and time that they have invested.

Obtaining a PhD brought new opportunities, but it also came with a lot of pressure—pressure to deliver, pressure not to disappoint. Since then, sports has become my first aid when I feel overwhelmed and need to change my focus during the intense periods at work.

[Fractional differential] equations are broadly used in porous media modeling and systems with memory

After graduation, and having 3 languages ‘in my pocket’, I continued teaching at my home university for a couple of years but felt an urgent need for change. I seriously considered switching to industry and even received an offer from an IT company, but something held me back. Around that time, I won an individual grant for a short-term research stay in Slovakia, where I was introduced to a new field—fractional differential equations. These equations are broadly used in porous media modeling and systems with memory. Moreover, they are able to capture more complex dynamics of a physical system in comparison to their integer-order counterparts. Back then it was still a completely unfamiliar topic for me, something I had never worked on before, but it eventually became part of my current research profile.

My time in Bratislava was a period of reflection, and it gave me the motivation to continue pursuing an academic career. I saw many opportunities that European universities offered and started applying for postdocs. Among all the negative responses and unanswered emails, there was one that changed my life. I got a postdoc position in Vienna, which I still consider my biggest achievement to date. It might sound silly but moving from Uzhhorod, that is by the way famous for its Japanese cherry blossom, to join one of the oldest and most prestigious universities in Austria was something I couldn’t have even dreamed of!

Picture of a Japanese cherry blossom

During my postdoc, I explored real-world applications of differential equations by analyzing mathematical models related to ocean and atmospheric circulation

During my postdoc, I explored real-world applications of differential equations by analyzing mathematical models related to ocean and atmospheric circulation. I was fascinated by the opportunity to apply my mathematical training to real-world phenomena, expanding my knowledge beyond purely theoretical research. As time passed and my postdoc was nearing its end, I realized I needed something more permanent. And again, I stood at a crossroads: should I switch to industry and stay in Austria with my partner, or pursue a career in academia but accept the fact that I would likely have to move to a third country within the last three years? I know many couples for whom cross-country moves didn’t work out, and in the meantime I was already fluent in German and had good chances on the Austrian labor market. Luckily, my partner was incredibly supportive, and when I got an offer from TU Delft, he did everything he could to make my decision easier.

And here we are. Five and a half years after moving, I’m now a tenured assistant professor at one of the best universities in the Netherlands, developing my own research line in nonlinear (fractional) differential equations with applications in geosciences, speaking my fifth language, and making future plans with my husband. Time has sorted out everything, and despite all difficulties I feel that I am in the right place.

Of course, at the end of the day it’s all about hard work, determination and family support —but sometimes, it’s also about that one email that changes everything in your life.

Published on April 23, 2025.
Image credit: Kateryna Marynets

Posted by HMS in Stories
Bindi Brook

Bindi Brook

Born in Nairobi, Kenya • Studied Mathematics at the University of Leeds • Highest Degree PhD in Applied Mathematics from the University of Leeds • Lives in the UK • Occupation Professor of Mathematical Medicine and Biology at the University of Nottingham

When I think back to school days, my sense is that I’ve always enjoyed mathematics. But there is one particular memory that is contrary to that. I was around 10 years old and had been finding most of the “maths” we did quite easy. Then some combination of factors (teacher, specific content) brought a sudden loss of confidence. I could not get my head around what we were being taught and I thought that was it – that I did not like maths anymore. My dad decided I was being silly (thankfully) and worked through some examples with me, every night, for about a week. By the end of it, my temporary lack of confidence had gone and ever since then I have really enjoyed some form of maths (here one can read – NOT pure maths). In fact, whenever I couldn’t make a decision about what I wanted to do next (at the end of A-levels, at the end of my undergraduate degree) I just picked the thing I enjoyed the most (maths and then applied maths) and went with it. I come from a South Asian culture where, if you’re considered “able”, you’re expected to study Medicine. That wasn’t for me – I really did not like remembering lots of facts and much preferred the problem-solving needed for studying maths.

(…) I have started to look into the mechanisms that could lead to a rare lung disease called lymphangioleiomyomatosis (LAM) and Long Covid.

In an interesting twist though, in my research career, I have essentially specialised in applying mathematics to biological and medical problems! My PhD was all about understanding what happens to blood flow in collapsible blood vessels like the giraffe jugular vein. In my postdoc I was investigating how to optimise ventilator settings for patients in ICU and then how to deliver inhaled therapies into the lungs. Since then, my focus has been in trying to understand how diseases like Asthma and other respiratory diseases originate and then progress. This involves incorporating biology and physics into mathematical and computational models, using approaches from different areas of applied maths. More recently I have started to look into the mechanisms that could lead to a rare lung disease called lymphangioleiomyomatosis (LAM) and Long Covid.

Although I am now a Professor and have spent much of my working life in academia, I took a somewhat torturous path getting there and could have picked a different route a number of times. Immediately after my PhD I worked for a credit card company, applying statistical models in a somewhat robotic fashion. There was no problem-solving involved and within 3 months I knew I could not stay and 3 months later started a postdoc in Sheffield. Towards the end of my postdoc I had my first daughter and worked part-time to complete it after which I decided I would just take time out to look after her. Two years later I had my second daughter.

Throughout my career, I have had some fantastic mentors (both women and men) who guided me through some tough times. These included workplace bullying and discrimination (as a woman of colour) and I have had to work hard to overcome these hurdles.

When my second daughter was around 2 years old I was starting to consider alternative careers to academia (I felt I had been out of it too long, hadn’t written up my postdoc work into peer-reviewed papers, etc) when I got a phone call from a previous academic colleague from the University of Nottingham asking if I would be interested in covering his teaching part-time, as he was taking a sabbatical. I took up this offer and continued to teach and work part-time until I felt my daughters were old enough for me to consider getting back into research. I applied for and was awarded a fantastic “return-to-research” Daphne Jackson Fellowship which allowed me to restart my research on a part-time basis and also write up some of my postdoc work. I will be eternally grateful for this opportunity, as it allowed me to start my research in asthma, build up a network of collaborators and eventually my first MRC grant. The other most important thing that made all this possible is my amazing, hugely supportive, parents who helped look after my daughters for many years.

Throughout my career, I have had some fantastic mentors (both women and men) who guided me through some tough times. These included workplace bullying and discrimination (as a woman of colour) and I have had to work hard to overcome these hurdles. Unfortunately, these things still exist. More recently (in my case) these have been more in the form of unconscious bias rather than overt. And significant efforts are being made to address these issues in my School. I try to contribute the best I can with these efforts. Nonetheless, it does mean that I regularly have to sit back and ask if it’s worth it. The answer isn’t an easy “yes”, not just for the above reasons but also because of the way higher education is going these days in terms of massive budget cuts and increased bureaucracy. On the positive side, I work with wonderful friends and colleagues, on worthwhile research problems, and great students.

Published on March 26, 2025.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Anna Ma

Anna Ma

Born in the US • Studied Mathematics at the University of California, Los Angeles • Highest Degree PhD in Computational Science from the Claremont Graduate University • Lives in the US • Occupation Assistant Professor of Mathematics at the University of California, Irvine

When I was a kid, there were lots of things I wanted to be: a lawyer, a teacher, a singer, and even, at one point, a maid (I loved organizing and cleaning as a kid, too!) The thought of being a professor, let alone a professor of mathematics, never crossed my mind. I enjoyed mathematics as a kid but wasn’t the “math wiz” in school. I simply enjoyed it. In other classes, I had to memorize all these seemingly random facts, dates, and names of cell parts and their functions. In math classes, all I needed to do was understand the underlying concept, and I would be able to solve many problems!

My first memory of just the thought of being a mathematics professor came in high school. I joined a class geared towards first-generation college students and presented a project on my dream career as a high school math teacher.

Around middle school, I decided to pursue mathematics as a career. My parents immigrated to the US as refugees during the Vietnam War and worked as nail technicians and factory workers so the only people I knew who “did math” were the math teachers I interacted with at school. Thus, I set my sights on becoming a high school math teacher. My first memory of just the thought of being a mathematics professor came in high school. I joined a class geared towards first-generation college students and presented a project on my dream career as a high school math teacher. One of my classmates turned to me after my presentation and said, “I think you’re aiming too low; I think you should be a math professor.” I told her there was no way I could ever accomplish that, and I left it at that. 

While trying to figure out what other careers existed for mathematicians, I stumbled upon Applied Mathematics and research: the wonderful world of creating new and exciting mathematics for real-world applications. [..] From there, I was hooked. 

In college, I began taking math classes beyond calculus: logic, analysis, algebra, combinatorics, and numerical analysis. Logic and Numerical Analysis were two of my favorite courses, and it occurred to me that if I were a high school math teacher, I’d never have the opportunity to “do numerical analysis” again. (Was I being a little dramatic? Yes. But did I know what I wanted? Also, yes!) While trying to figure out what other careers existed for mathematicians, I stumbled upon Applied Mathematics and research: the wonderful world of creating new and exciting mathematics for real-world applications. My first research project was to help develop an algorithm for the Los Angeles Police Department to clean reporting data automatically. Next, I worked on a project analyzing Twitter (now called X) data to categorize Tweets automatically into content-based topics that did not rely on keyword searches. From there, I was hooked. 

In college and grade school, it was difficult to see how intertwined mathematics was with the world around us. Through these projects, I began to see mathematics and the world through a new lens.  The realization that mathematical concepts and theory could directly impact and improve real-world problems is inspiring, and this shift in perspective not only enhanced my appreciation for mathematics but also fueled my passion for pursuing further research and applications that bridge theory with practice. 

In academia, you raise the next generation of mathematicians, discover and create new mathematics, and serve the scientific community and beyond.

Working in academia is an incredibly unique opportunity. In academia, you raise the next generation of mathematicians, discover and create new mathematics, and serve the scientific community and beyond. At the same time, academia can be really difficult because everyone has opinions about what you should and shouldn’t be doing and how you should and shouldn’t be spending your time. Early on, I decided I would do what made me happy. If that wasn’t enough for academia, then I wouldn’t be happy doing it anyway. There really is no other job like it in the world. Currently, I am working with multiple graduate students, recruiting new students for an undergraduate research project, writing proposals, and writing manuscripts to introduce new and improved algorithms and theorems to the mathematics community. One of the most surprising things I’ve discovered about this career is how much traveling I get to do. Every year, there is typically at least one international trip (Paris, France last year for the SIAM Applied Linear Algebra conference!) and a few domestic trips for conferences, visiting collaborators, and presenting research at other universities and research institutions. My day-to-day life in my career is never the same, which makes the work and life very exciting. 

Published on February 26, 2025.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Michelle Snider

Michelle Snider

Studied Physics & Mathematics at Smith College, Northampton MA, and Mathematics at the University of California San Diego, CA USA and at Cornell University, Ithaca, NY USA • Highest Degree: PhD in Mathematics • Lives in United States • Occupation: Senior Data Analyst at SRT Labs and Adjunct Research Staff Member at Center for Computing Sciences, Institute for Defense Analyses

I was always interested in math and science, maybe because I was just good at it. I chose to go to a women’s college because even at the high school level, I had been the only girl in the class, and experienced some unhealthy dynamics that can occur in a gender-imbalanced environment. Finishing my double major in Math and Physics in an enthusiastic and supportive environment, I decided I was happy to keep learning for the sake of learning, so I started applying to graduate school. 

I went to the University of California, San Diego because they had big math and applied math departments, and since I didn’t have a specific area of focus yet, this would give me lots of options. Two years in, I realized I had not narrowed down the list of mathematical topics I was interested in so much as the list of professors I was not interested in working with. I set up meetings with potential advisors across the departments, who did work in numerical analysis, representation theory, combinatorics, and even math education research. Rather than giving me an impromptu lecture, one professor spent 5 minutes setting up a problem, then handed me the chalk and said “Go up to the board and work out an example.” I thought to myself, I guess I’m an algebraic combinatorialist now!

My specific expertise seemed to be less relevant than my willingness and ability to jump into new research areas and tackle hard problems.

Six years and a cross-country move later, I finished my PhD. I had determined that I didn’t want to pursue an academic track, but with such a pure math background, I wasn’t sure what other options I would even have. That is, in academia, it is quite common that you have no idea what else to do except be an academic because no pure math professor I have met has ever done anything other than be a pure math professor. While I had a wonderful opportunity learning how to think mathematically, I had no guidance about how to transition my research to real life. After sending my resume to companies and national labs across the spectrum of options, I landed an interview at the Center for Computing Sciences in Maryland, a federally-funded research and development center, where the organizational ethos seemed to be to hire a bunch of smart people and remove all the administrative distractions so they can just focus on solving hard problems for the US government. The people I met at my interview were excited about their work, but also had interesting hobbies and work-life balance. My specific expertise seemed to be less relevant than my willingness and ability to jump into new research areas and tackle hard problems.

The AWM is a community of mathematicians from around the world who care about building up a network to help us all succeed and I love being a part of it.

Along the way, I had an opportunity to join the Association for Women in Mathematics (AWM) on a day trip to the US Capitol in Washington, DC, to meet with the offices of elected officials and advocate for supporting underrepresented minorities in STEM.  The AWM is a community of mathematicians from around the world who care about building up a network to help us all succeed and I love being a part of it.  These visits give us a chance to let our voices be heard, and to bring awareness to the importance of STEM across society—many politicians have never met a mathematician before, and we had the chance to try to counter some of the stereotyped images in the media. I met an amazing group of mathematicians, and before I knew it, I was the one organizing these Capitol Hill visits, then serving on several committees. 

A few years ago, an opportunity came up to work with a small technology company with a great company culture. My job title is Senior Data Analyst, but again I was hired not for specific expertise but for my flexibility in taking on new challenges. I get to work across a broad swath of the company, talking to clients, designing solutions, and yes, analyzing some data along the way. I love being able to apply mathematical thinking to problems perhaps not thought of as classical mathematical problems, like how to help universities save energy by connecting their air conditioning system to their class scheduling system.

I could not have predicted the path that I’ve been on, and certainly would never say that I had a plan all along. I am happy to do lots of different things, but it matters a lot to me who I spend my time with. Picking each step based on the people I enjoy spending time with seems to be working just fine so far. 

Published on October 16, 2024.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Nadia Abdelal

Nadia Abdelal

Born in Tripoli, Lebanon • Birth year 1975 Studied Science and Education at Monash University in Melbourne • Highest Degree Post Graduate Diploma in Secondary Education • Lives in Melbourne, Australia • Occupation Mathematics Education Specialist

There were only two things I ever wanted to be as a child – an artist or a scientist. Growing up as the daughter of a struggling artist, you can guess which one I was vehemently encouraged not to pursue. So, with great regret, I set aside my artistic dreams to focus on the more ‘financially stable’ study of science.

However, for a young migrant girl born in the 1970s, things were not that simple. Back then, women and girls weren’t even close to touching the glass ceiling, let alone breaking it. We were too busy dodging patriarchal bullets. For many women, particularly those of certain ethnicities, the central mission was marriage and children. Our dreams didn’t amount to much because there was only really one worth pursuing, and it definitely did not end with the word “scientist”.

(…) How does someone who was told by teachers that she would never understand maths, and who failed almost all her maths exams, end up as a maths education specialist?

Despite this, I was not discouraged. Much to the dismay of my mother, I had inherited my father’s burning desire to punch the status quo right in the face. Consequently, my feminist roots sprouted early. If I’m being totally honest, while I genuinely loved science, the idea of pushing against gender stereotypes, some of which still exist today, was equally as appealing. So, I set my course with determination.

It was not without its obstacles – and there were many. One obstacle in particular that could have derailed my entire professional future was my ongoing struggle with mathematics. I didn’t just struggle a little; I struggled a lot. For as long as I can remember, and throughout school, it was one of my greatest sources of shame. My failures in this subject accompanied me through primary school, high school, and even into university, where I eventually graduated with a major in physics and geophysics.

But how? How does someone manage to get a degree in physics while struggling so much with maths? And how does someone who was told by teachers that she would never understand maths, and who failed almost all her maths exams, end up as a maths education specialist? The answer is this: it’s not that I wasn’t good at maths, or that I couldn’t understand it. It was simply that I couldn’t understand the way maths was being taught to me!

Traditional mathematics approaches may work for a small percentage of the population, but the majority, especially those from lower socio-economic backgrounds, non-native language speakers, or those with non-neurotypical brains, are rarely among that select few.

Traditional mathematics approaches may work for a small percentage of the population, but the majority, especially those from lower socio-economic backgrounds, non-native language speakers, or those with non-neurotypical brains, are rarely among that select few. Unfortunately for me, I fell into all three categories, so school was a constant struggle. However, science was my art – a creative outlet for my curiosity, and anyone can tell you that when you love something and are curious about it, the teaching becomes secondary to the learning.

As I moved further into my career, I began to apply this newfound understanding to my teaching, shifting away from traditional methods and towards more conceptual approaches to maths education – methods that I wished I had been exposed to as a child and as a student of STEM.

The decision to leave the safety of my classroom in 2016 was a very difficult and personal one. However, it shaped some of the greatest learnings and experiences of my lifetime, and three years later, it led me to begin my company, EM Maths Consulting.

I began my life wanting to be one of two things, an artist or a scientist, and little did I know that I would end up as both.

The fear that comes with putting everything on the line to follow a dream can be debilitating. However, sometimes the desire to follow it is just too strong to ignore. So here I am, eight years on, and still clinging to the convictions that started me on this pathway – to drive change in mathematics education, and to encourage a system that supports and nurtures the strengths and uniqueness of every child regardless of race, gender, demographic, or physical, emotional, or spiritual preferences.

I made many discoveries along the way, but the best one was this: There is a little scientist in all of us, one who is compelled to ask questions, be curious, seek synergy, and find beauty. We don’t often connect these things to the learning of mathematics, but we should. I began my life wanting to be one of two things, an artist or a scientist, and little did I know that I would end up as both.

Published on October 2, 2024.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Uzu Lim

Uzu Lim

Born in Seoul, South Korea • Birth year 1993 Studied Mathematics at Postech in South Korea • Highest Degree PhD in Mathematics from University of Oxford, UK • Lives in Oxford, UK • Currently a postdoctoral researcher in mathematics at the University of Oxford; soon to start a postdoctoral researcher position in Queen Mary University of London

I am a mathematician working on geometric data analysis, and I am a transgender woman. The interaction of mathematics and gender in my life is non-trivial, and I thought seriously about this for the first time while writing this piece. While my gender identity slowly crystallised over my life, it was only 4 years ago that I declared myself as transgender. Mathematics has been at the centre of my life for a long time, and I mostly regarded it as a genderless activity. However, I’ve recently started recognising the effects of male socialisation in my mathematical practice, and started exploring how my femininity could interact with my mathematical practice.

In the end I got a PhD in mathematics in Oxford, but the voices whispering “I am not enough” never stopped.

I grew up in a fairly typical “Asian male math nerd” culture, although it was one of those turbo-charged versions appearing in science high schools and Olympiads. Born in South Korea, I went to an international boarding school when I was 13, and moved alone to Singapore when I was 15 to attend a prestigious science high school. That was not enough for me, because I constantly complained that this school wasn’t teaching me enough advanced mathematics. In the end I got a PhD in mathematics in Oxford, but the voices whispering “I am not enough” never stopped. I attribute this to the nerd-machismo in male STEM culture, coupled with the distinct Asian workaholism. I could not settle for anything that may actually give comfort and nurture, for once.

With the help of my transgender boyfriend, I reflect that it’s time to stop and look back. I have done enough to show that I am worthy of love. It doesn’t have to be a constant screaming and scaling a higher mountain. I look back at my love of shapes and structures, and I look back at the delicate theorems and programs I sculpted over the course of my mathematical life. I say: I love all of you, and I will care for all of you, because you are a dear part of me. And I do this with a form of feminine, motherly love.

(…) I sense a harsh masculinity in how many scholars think of mathematics.

The heart and soul of mathematics lie in the expanse of the fluid framework of ideas created by people. Important theories are supported by soft intuitions, and the network of deep thinkers brings gradual yet certain progress to mathematics. I sense much femininity in this smoothness of ideas. On the contrary, I sense a harsh masculinity in how many scholars think of mathematics. While learning pure mathematics, there was a persistent self-loathing along the lines of: “You will never dream of staying in academia if you can’t even finish Hartshorne’s Algebraic Geometry.” There’s always a higher tower to climb, and a grander theorem to learn. It reminds me of phallic architectures that trace the city skylines. Mathematics is also often made into a sterilised toolbox that is wiped clean of blood and sweat in the creative process. I performed this sterilisation in writing my doctoral thesis, where the anxiety and obsession in my contrarian approach to geometric data analysis were sanitised before I presented them cleanly in theorems and algorithms. This is good in some sense, but there is a lingering unexplored emotional dimension that could have been shared more deeply with other mathematicians.

So here onwards, I dream of cultivating a more feminine mathematical culture. Partly, that means to be honest with all sorts of emotions that arise from mathematical practice. Even though I see mathematics itself as a genderless activity, the gendered culture brought by mathematicians is real. I dream that mathematicians will someday open up more of our human, emotional elements into research papers and talks. To play my part, I will start to look deeply into my colleagues’ mathematical practices to share our woes, obsessions, hopes and dreams. As I rise higher in the rank, I will have more chances to usher in the strength in emotional openness in supervision, papers, and seminars. Someday we will be climbing the celestial mountains of abstraction as a team, not in the misguided spirit of nerd machismo, but rather in the spirit of nurturing yet powerful femininity.

Published on September 18, 2024.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Mónica D. Morales-Hernández

Mónica D. Morales-Hernández

Born in Nuevo Leon, Mexico • Birth year 1989 Studied Applied Mathematics at UAA in Mexico • Highest Degree Master of Science in Mathematical Sciences from Clemson University, USA • Lives in New York, USA • Occupation Assistant Teaching Professor

I am an applied mathematician and educator now, but that wasn’t my initial goal. I originally aspired to be a physicist. Since my university didn’t have a physics major, I decided to pursue mathematics instead.

The field [of computational mathematics] is dominated by white male mathematicians, which means female faculty and underrepresented groups often face sexism and discrimination.

While pursuing my undergraduate and graduate studies in Mexico, I had the chance to do research using numerical methods to model bacterial growth. During my time at Clemson University, working on my Master’s degree in Computational Mathematics, I had the chance to dive into some fascinating projects. One of the highlights was working with something called the Leray alpha model, which is a regularization of the Navier-Stokes equations that has shown effectiveness in numerical simulations of turbulent and complex flows. Working on this project holds a special meaning for me. It was not only the first research project I worked on in the United States, but it also involved a type of mathematics (Finite Element Method) that I had not had access to in Mexico, and it was a physics problem, which fulfilled my dream of becoming a physicist.

Computational mathematics is not easily accessible to everyone. The field is dominated by white male mathematicians, which means female faculty and underrepresented groups often face sexism and discrimination. Additionally, it is an expensive field, with the cost of software, books, and conferences creating barriers for people trying to access this knowledge.

(…) My students have used their knowledge to model the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, analyze income inequality in New York City using the Gini coefficient, and determine appropriate drug dosages (…).

Due to these challenges, I have been advocating for greater access to information and knowledge. As an educator, I truly believe that mathematics is a skill that can be developed if you practice and are given the correct resources. This belief has guided my approach to teaching, where I’ve made a conscious effort to integrate practical applications and research components into traditional coursework. In courses like Calculus 2 and Linear Algebra, I have incorporated a research component where students tackle real-life problems, with a special emphasis on social justice issues. This innovative approach allows students to apply mathematical techniques learned in class and numerical methods to address significant societal challenges.

For instance, my students have used their knowledge to model the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, analyze income inequality in New York City using the Gini coefficient, and determine appropriate drug dosages, among other projects. These projects not only deepen their understanding of mathematical concepts but also highlight how mathematics can be a powerful tool for analyzing and solving real-world problems. By exploring the intersection of social justice and mathematics, students gain a broader perspective on how their skills can contribute to meaningful change in society.

The [EvenQuads card] decks pay tribute to notable women mathematicians and can be used to play various mathematical games.

As a woman of color, sexism and racism have been a challenging part of my academic journey. These experiences have motivated me to work towards making the math world a better place for women and other minorities. My passion for this cause led me to volunteer at the Association for Women in Mathematics, where I strive to create a more inclusive environment for underrepresented groups. I am a member of the EvenQuads Committee and currently serve as the Chair of the Student Chapters Committee. The EvenQuads card decks is a project created to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Association for Women in Mathematics. The decks pay tribute to notable women mathematicians and can be used to play various mathematical games. These cards acknowledge the significant, yet frequently overlooked, contributions of women to mathematics in research, education, and industry.

Through these combined efforts in my research, teaching and advocacy, my goal is to ensure that the field of mathematics is accessible and welcoming to everyone, regardless of their background.

Published on September 4, 2024.

Posted by HMS in Stories