PhD

14
Jan
2026
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
10
Dec
2025
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
26
Nov
2025
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
12
Nov
2025
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
03
Sep
2025
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
07
May
2025
Alexandra Edletzberger

Alexandra Edletzberger

Born in Vienna, Austria • Birth year 1995 • Studied Mathematics at University Vienna, Austria and Journalism at University of Salzburg, Austria • PhD in Mathematics from University of Vienna, Austria • Lives in Vienna, Austria • Innovation Manager at UBIMET Group

When I handed in my bachelor’s thesis in 2017, I couldn’t believe it – I thought to myself, “Well, here is my math degree. I’m finally done studying.” Little did I know that seven years later, I would be celebrating the completion of my PhD in mathematics and embarking on new research endeavors.

Since I had always been good at math in school, and since a math degree typically opens doors in finance, insurance, or consulting, I made my decision: I would become a mathematician as well.

My original career plan was set. Ever since my teenage years, I knew that I would become a sports journalist, most likely for a major newspaper or magazine. So after high school, I enrolled in a specialized program at the University of Salzburg to become an Academic Sports Journalist in two years. And so I did. But at the same time, I was aware that the writing business could be tough. As a Viennese girl, I knew it would be challenging to find my place in Austria’s ski-obsessed and male-dominated sports scene. So, I decided to be strategic and enroll in a second study program – one with secure and stable job prospects – just to be on the safe side. Since I had always been good at math in school, and since a math degree typically opens doors in finance, insurance, or consulting, I made my decision: I would become a mathematician as well.

There had already been very few women in my bachelor’s program, and I wondered if I would fit into the master’s program at all.

Everything went as planned. I completed my sports journalism degree, found a job at a newspaper in Vienna, and finished my math degree on the side. But then, with a very heavy heart, I realized that I am not supposed to attend math lectures any more. At the same time, I wasn’t sure whether I even had what it takes to continue with a higher degree in math – especially as a woman. There had already been very few women in my bachelor’s program, and I wondered if I would fit into the master’s program at all. A sneaky look at the master’s program curriculum got me excited – there was a specialization in algebra, my absolute favorite area of math. So I decided to enroll – just for fun. I am very thankful for the Austrian education system, where there are no entry exams and studying comes at no cost. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to take this opportunity.

The more courses I took, the more I enjoyed studying. And when I realized that this could also be my chance to move abroad for half a year through an exchange program, I took a leap of faith. I quit my job as a journalist, went to Sweden, and decided to try my luck as a mathematician.

Once again, I didn’t feel ready to end my math journey just yet.

When I was completing my master’s degree, a familiar feeling crept in. Once again, I didn’t feel ready to end my math journey just yet. I was fortunate enough to be offered a PhD position by my master’s thesis supervisor, and I accepted with excitement. My math journey that had started as a practical decision, continued out of passion.

While I enjoyed doing research and the freedom of an academic position, I realized very early in my PhD studies that I did not fit – and did not want to fit – into the academic system. The structural discrimination of women, the exploitation of early-career researchers, and the lack of opportunities to make meaningful change wore me down. I felt like a flower expected to bloom with far too little water and sunlight.

But when I was done, for the first time, I felt truly content with my math chapter coming to an end. And I found a new way to use many of the skills I gained during my PhD.

Don’t get me wrong – I am very grateful that I had the opportunity to complete my PhD, meet incredible people, do exciting research, and contribute to diversity and inclusion in STEM. But when I was done, for the first time, I felt truly content with my math chapter coming to an end.

And I found a new way to use many of the skills I gained during my PhD. As an innovation manager at an Austrian medium-sized company with a focus on natural sciences and its own Research and Development department, I design and develop research projects, find project partners, write proposals, and manage ongoing projects. My fundamental knowledge about mathematical modelling is a key asset.  Plus, this role combines my interest in storytelling, investigating new leads and juggling several projects – talents that once led me to journalism – with the skills that steered me to mathematics. In the end, the two plotlines of my career have merged into one in an unexpected yet fulfilling way.

Published on May 7, 2025.
Photo credit: Nora Kamml

Posted by HMS in Stories
23
Apr
2025
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
09
Apr
2025
JoAnne Growney

JoAnne Growney

Born in rural Pennsylvania in 1940 • Studied PhD in Mathematics at University of Oklahoma, United States • Lives in United States • Occupation Taught mathematics at Bloomsburg (PA) University (now part of Commonwealth University); now retired

Before I was a math girl, I was a farm girl – the oldest of three children growing up on a farm in Pennsylvania —  the one who went to the barn with her father while her mother took care of the little ones.

Math (often numbers and counting) was an inconspicuous but central part of farming – counting eggs as I collected them from beneath the hens, counting the sheep as they came into shelter at night to make sure that none had drifted away.  Geometric quantities also were important – the volumes of harvested grains and fruit, the distances between parallel rows of corn, the gallons of milk expected from our Guernsey cow which I milked morning and evening.

My teacher, a graduate of an elite college and unashamed of her math ability, was an energetic and supportive example of “girls can do math.”

Perhaps my farm experience helped me to be good at math – and that skill seemed fine in elementary school years but as my classmates and I moved through high school my female math ability seemed to make people turn away from me.  In my senior year, I was one of only three girls in my math classes.  BUT that year I also had an inspiring experience.  My teacher, a graduate of an elite college and unashamed of her math ability, was an energetic and supportive example of “girls can do math.”

Receipt of a scholarship from Westminster College in New Wilmington, Pennsylvania, enabled me to go away from home to continue my education.  (To my dismay, at Westminster I had several “only girl in the class” experiences.)  I started out as a chemistry major but, during my sophomore year. I learned that my “science scholarship” could be used toward a math major and then (preferring math to chemistry) I switched, combining studies of math with secondary education. AND I took creative writing courses and had work published in the campus literary journal. In those days (early 1960’s), many jobs were not available to women – but teaching was.

Graduation from Westminster led to marriage, to secondary school teaching in the Philadelphia area, to evening graduate classes at Temple University – from which I obtained an MA in Mathematics.  My husband (Wallace/Wally) – who had studied physics and math and a bit of computer science – took a job at Susquehanna University in Selinsgrove, PA.  I did some part-time teaching at Susquehanna and at nearby Bucknell – but soon we moved to Norman, Oklahoma where Wally would pursue a doctorate so that he could qualify for tenure at Susquehanna. While we were in Oklahoma, with lots of time on my hands, I was able to attain a teaching assistantship and continue my studies also. 

One of the requirements for mathematics professors at Bloomsburg University was to teach “general education” courses for non-majors and this experience led me to write and publish a textbook entitled Mathematics in Daily Life – a book containing material that engaged students in mathematical reasoning related to counting, voting, travel, decision-making, and other frequent concerns. 

Graduate school brought complications to our marriage. In our earlier studies, I had gotten better grades but we credited it to his sports and fraternity activities – AND, I studied more carefully. But at The University of Oklahoma, it became evident that I was the better student and, eventually, that caused stress for both of us. I became his helper. We studied together. During our work on dissertations, I became pregnant. When our doctoral studies were completed, we returned to Pennsylvania, bringing with us a baby daughter.  I secured a tenure-track position at nearby Bloomsburg State College (now part of Commonwealth University).  AND I was able to keep my on-campus schedule to three days per week and to find excellent child care; our care-giver, Erma, was loving and dependable. Our family grew with another childbirth and two adoptions.

Keeping busy helped our marriage survive but over time we began to recognize that things weren’t working and weren’t repairable. This eventually led to divorce and to me and the kids moving to the town of Bloomsburg (and to me avoiding the 30-mile commute).  My time in Bloomsburg involved congenial colleagues, a great neighborhood – a safe place for my children even if I was not with them and walk-to schools.  When my children grew up – and left home for college and marriage and  . . . I found time to revive my childhood interest (begun as a child reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses) to poetry.

One of my favorite poems celebrates the mathematician, Amalie Emmy Noether;  it’s title is “My Dance is Mathematics”

One of the requirements for mathematics professors at Bloomsburg University was to teach “general education” courses for non-majors and this experience led me to write and publish a textbook entitled Mathematics in Daily Life – a book containing material that engaged students in mathematical reasoning related to counting, voting, travel, decision-making, and other frequent concerns.  Work on this project and — even more so — my interest in poetry drew me into connections with other colleagues (in English and Philosophy and . . . and I gradually began to participate in poetry events and publication in addition to my math-related activities.

Writing poetry was an activity that I much enjoyed – and many of my poems incorporate mathematical ideas.  One of my favorite poems celebrates the mathematician, Amalie Emmy Noether;  it’s title is “My Dance is Mathematics” and it is available online at this link:   https://joannegrowney.com/ChapbookMyDance.html ;  here is its opening stanza:

They called you der Noether, as if mathematics

was only for men.  In 1964, nearly thirty years

past your death, at last I saw you in a spotlight,

in a World’s Fair mural, “Men of Modern Mathematics.”

Once my kids were grown – and using some funds inherited from a great aunt – I began to engage in travel-related math-and-poetry activities.  Via “Teachers for Tomorrow” – a non-profit organized by one of my high school friends – I spent part of several summers teaching (math and poetry and English conversation) – in India and in Romania. 

A few years into retirement, I moved south to the Washington, DC area where three of my four children were living with their young families.  And I am still here!

More can be learned about me at my website: https://joannegrowney.com. In 2010 I began to write a blog entitled “Intersections – Poetry with Mathematics” (found at   https://poetrywithmathematics.blogspot.com/) – and, with more than 1600 posts so far, my blogging continues.  My own thought processes seem to follow the rule that “everything connects” – and this article shares some related ideas:  https://joannegrowney.com/Everything-Connects–JMA-Growney-26June2020.pdf

THANK YOU for reading!  I hope you also enjoy math and poetry and their connections!

Published on April 9, 2025.
Image credit: Diann Growney Harrity

Posted by HMS in Stories
26
Mar
2025
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
12
Mar
2025
Catherine Micek

Catherine Micek

Born in United States • Studied PhD in Mathematics at University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, United States • Lives in United States • Occupation Data Scientist

Galileo Galilei said “Mathematics is the language with which God has written the universe.” I chose to have a career in mathematics because I wanted to be a “translator” for the language of mathematics. 

The first time I realized that I might enjoy teaching math was when I was in sixth grade.  I was writing up a solution to a pre-algebra problem for a school newspaper article, and I discovered that I loved breaking the problem down into smaller steps that could each be carefully explained. Communicating a logical and precise solution was beautiful to me.

When I went to college, choosing a major was tough because I was curious about many subjects. What drew me towards math during my freshman year was the idea of becoming a college math professor. A career as a math professor would allow me to combine the challenge of solving math problems as well as communicating the results.  Furthermore, the fact that mathematics could be applied to a variety of fields appealed to my widespread curiosity. During college, I studied applications of math to some familiar and loved subjects (such as music) as well as some new and interesting ones (such as computer science). I majored in math and minored in physics and computer science with the goal of pursuing a Ph.D. in applied mathematics upon graduation.

Graduate school was very different from my undergraduate studies. The coursework was more demanding, so I had to improve my study habits, and research required that I develop an entirely new set of skills. The nature of research was very different from the syllabus structure of problem sets and exams in a course. Since my goal was to solve a problem no one had ever solved before, it required a creative and flexible approach, one that emphasized the exploration, experimentation, and steady refinement of ideas.  But perhaps the most important lesson I learned was that there is no single “correct” way to be a mathematician. I saw that fellow students succeeded by developing a process of learning and research that worked for their unique set of talents and interests. I, too, had to develop such a process, even though it was an arduous and intimidating journey, fraught with a lot of trial and error. Ultimately, though, the effort was worth it because it built my self-confidence.

Since my goal was to solve a problem no one had ever solved before, it required a creative and flexible approach, one that emphasized the exploration, experimentation, and steady refinement of ideas.  But perhaps the most important lesson I learned was that there is no single “correct” way to be a mathematician.

At the end of graduate school, I had an unforeseen change of plans. My goal had always been to get a tenure-track job (which is the career track to a permanent academic position in America) at a local school. However, since no local positions were open the year I was graduating, I had to consider the trade-offs between my geographic location and the type of job I wanted. If I didn’t relocate, I would have to broaden my job search to include non-academic jobs (which I didn’t know much about) and temporary academic jobs (which had more uncertainty). It was scary to consider changing my long-held career plans, but I had an established support system of family and friends locally who were an important part of my life. After extensive deliberation, I accepted a two-year faculty position at a local school and began investigating non-academic career paths.  

Luckily for me, jobs in data science were starting to surge around the time I started looking at industrial jobs. Companies were looking to hire employees who understood complex statistical and machine learning algorithms and could write computer code.  Data science was a great fit for my interests and skills – I had a lot of programming experience and was willing to learn whatever additional mathematics I needed for a job – so I began looking for jobs where I could use and further develop my technical skills.  

My first industry job was building statistical models for pricing policies at an insurance company, and from there I segued into data scientist and software developer roles. Although the domains are different and the mathematical techniques I use vary, my jobs generally have consisted of formulating the mathematical problem, writing the code to train the model and implementing the solution, and explaining the results to business stakeholders. I’ve worked as a data scientist at several companies on problems with diverse applications: energy, finance, supply chain, manufacturing, and media.   Although the details of my professional life are different than if I was a math professor – the work is interdisciplinary and team-oriented – I still get to be a “translator” of mathematics. 

Even though my career path has gone differently than I originally planned, I am happy with the unexpected directions it has taken me. Keep in mind that the best career path is not about what the majority is doing or what others advise that you “should” do: it is the path you create for yourself.

Published on March 12, 2025.
Photo credit: Catherine Micek

Posted by HMS in Stories
26
Feb
2025
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
16
Oct
2024
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