I watched ‘Nanette’ by Hannah Gadbsy on Netflix last night, and WOW WOW WOW! What a show (if you haven’t seen it I have tried to keep spoilers out of this post). I have to be honest, I was a little apprehensive about watching it beforehand, based on a couple of reviews I had read. I mean, I like to think I’m pretty ‘woke’ an all, but sometimes I’m just… tired (ironically so it turns out, so is Hannah). I had heard that Nanette was bang on message for many current ‘woke’ issues, and sometimes I just get a bit of fatigue with it all (‘woke fatigue’?). I know that it is part of my privilege that I am able to get fatigue about these issues, and as a middle class white woman I’ve certainly had my fair share of privilege. Nevertheless, I just wasn’t sure if that’s how I wanted to entertain myself after a long, hard day at work then being a mum etc. But damnnnnn, Nanette was worth it.
One area in which the odds have been stacked against me somewhat, and I can relate to being an underrepresented minority, is in my career. Neuroscience, and behavioural neuroscience in particular, is very top heavy with white men. That is, although most of the graduate students and people in the early phases of their career are female (I’m not sure of the exact numbers, but I’d estimate at around 70-80% female), the further you get up the career ladder, the more those numbers switch around completely. By the time you reach Professor level, the numbers are approximately 80%+ male. Representation of other minority groups is even worse, and those of us working in science have a lot to do to make things fairer and more equal.
What does this all have to do with drinking or addiction I hear you ask? Well a number of things. Before we go on, I would like to say that I know these are first world problems, but they are still problems, and did feed into my addiction nevertheless. One of the reasons I drank was because I think that as a female striving to make it in this field, I felt highly visible in the sense that each time I go to give a talk, I feel the weight of various expectations on me based on how I look (i.e. that I won’t be that smart). I have also experienced things like giving a talk and having all questions about my research being directed to my (white male) supervisor. I have been overlooked a number of times in favour of males when trying to ask questions at conferences, something I see happen to other females all the time. I have been told that people think I don’t understand my own research. I have had grant reviewers pull me up on ‘gaps’ in my track record, that they extended to 3 x as long as they actually were and having completely overlooked the fact that I had given birth to a WHOLE FRIGGING HUMAN BEING the year before and had been on maternity leave. I have had other grant reviewers question the contributions I made to my first author publications relative to my (white male) senior author. I have been told that I need to have a thicker skin and get over all of this. Put the pressure of dealing with all of this on top of all the other immense pressures brought on by such an intensely competitive career choice and it’s a potent mix, ripe for self-esteem issues and you guessed it… drinking.
As I said, I know these are first world problems. They are far from the worst problems I have ever had to deal with in my life, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t matter and that they are not important. They do and they are.
Well I am emboldened by Hannah Gadbsy, and I am sober now, and I’m not gonna take this shit any more. Because I have advanced in my career somewhat now, I don’t tend to get overlooked when trying to ask questions at conferences so much anymore, and I don’t get people making as many inaccurate comments on my grant reviews. But that doesn’t mean the unfairness isn’t there any more for other, younger females. I also really hope that I can help the young female scientists navigate their way through it the way that some of the badass female neuroscientists I know have helped me. I know there are also some fantastic men in my field who are also well aware of these issues and are fighting to make things fairer and more equal, and I totally support that too. And if someone tells me to grow a thicker skin then they might be told which improvements society could make to be more supportive of female scientists.
I am so glad I sobered up at this point in my career. I think I had a lot of shame, I certainly had low self-esteem, and I took these negative things people said and did personally or thought that I had done something wrong. But my head is clear now, and I can see clearly.
What does this have to do with Nanette? Well the reason I found this show to be SO incredible, was not anything to do with it being so zeitgeisty, but rather because it was so raw and honest and vulnerable. Damn Hannah, your emotions were real and you made me feel. I didn’t agree with everything she said, but that’s OK. We’re adults and we can still be friends (can we Hannah? Please?).
It also made me think about this blog and what I am doing here. I wanted to start this blog so that I could start a dialogue with the recovery community, and I sat back and thought for a moment about how well I have been doing at that. I start thinking about whether I was really connecting. Have I been my most vulnerable and honest self? I certainly haven’t been dishonest, and the topics that I have covered have been interesting and important to me, but something was niggling at me.
Then I came across a podcast interview with Prof. Alan Jasanoff, author of the “The Biological Mind: How Brain, Body, and Environment Collaborate to Make Us Who We Are”. Very interesting interview, give it a listen if you have time. Again I didn’t agree with everything he said (I guess I can be quite disagreeable sometimes!) but one point that he did make got to the core of something that was niggling at me. It was this concept of ‘cerebral mystique’. This is the idea that the brain is not some distinct, unknowable entity, but although complex, is essentially a part of the body it is attached to as well as the environment it experiences.
It was exactly this mystique that I wanted to tackle in my blog. I wanted people to realise that the brain can be knowable and although it is unimaginably complex, we also do know a lot about how it works. I wanted people to know that it is not just drugs that change the brain, but our experiences, learning and memories all change the brain as well. I wanted people to know that even though the names of particular parts of the brain sound big and scary, in the end they are just names – names like ‘arm’ or ‘leg’ or any other part of the body. When you know the names of the brain parts this mystique recedes a little bit. And if we realise that experiences can change the brain, just as drugs can, then I think this can feel very empowering.
Other than that, I also want to figure out how to be vulnerable and how to put the ‘real me’ on the page. I really struggle with this, as I know many other people do, but, as the famous Australian saying goes “I ain’t here to fuck spiders”. In other words, I’m not writing this to half-ass it, I want to be vulnerable and I want to give you all of me. But I need to figure out how to do that, so after this post I’m gonna take a little break and re-assess. Thank you all for reading so far.