Katherine Bridge
BIO
Assistant professor in cancer cell biology and haematology at the University of York (United Kingdom). Mother of three.
Katherine Bridge
“Starting a family in academia is often met with doubt and skepticism as if these two paths couldn't coexist.”
I never set out to have a career in science because my high school encouraged any student proficient in science to study medicine, so I applied and got an offer at a good university. Unexpectedly to everyone, the pressure of final high school exams meant I missed out on the grades I needed to study medicine, which set me on the path that led to where I am today. Six weeks and one offer to study Biochemistry later, I arrived at the university. In my final year, I got to do my dissertation project in a cancer biology lab – that changed everything. However, I was still very unsure of what to do after my undergraduate degree, all I knew was that I wanted to be able to support myself.
My dissertation supervisor, who I credit for putting me on this path, told me that there was such a thing as a stipendary PhD, where I could keep doing this science and also have an income. I applied to two and was offered them both – I picked the one in cancer.
Many times I did things that went against the academic cultural norm. I got married in my early twenties, during my PhD. I can still remember the off-hand comments of peers and colleagues: “Do you think you’ll finish, now that you’re married?” and “But aren’t you going to be wanting to start a family soon?”. Yes and no, respectively.
When I was a post-doc at a leading cancer research institute in London, and was pregnant with my first child, “Oh, gosh, but I thought you wanted to start your lab?” and “But doesn’t that mean you’ll have less time on your (fixed-term) contract?”. Yes, and yes, this time.
The message was clear: family milestones are seen as distractions from career success. Starting a family in academia is often met with doubt and skepticism as if these two paths couldn't coexist.
I learned that a colleague returning from maternity leave had requested to work from home a few days a week but was declined – “postdocs should be in the lab”. This was pre-COVID and she was a bioinformatician. I have also overheard someone refer to a pregnant colleague as having “gone and got herself pregnant”. These are not the worst things that have been said to women around being pregnant.
Somehow, still, this undercurrent exists where our cultures understand that women are biologically the ones who have to do the procreating, but the outworkings of that are a bit of a nuisance to the rest of us.
I often describe my career as fumbling around for a match in the dark – most of the time I had no idea what I was doing, I only knew the result I wanted to achieve. The women who I interacted with who had “made it” (i.e. started their own lab), seemed reluctant to share the wealth.
All I can say is that I’ve been propelled - from that undergraduate dissertation until now – by that high you get from scientific discovery.
For me, the priority now, alongside the science, is to make the path a bit smoother for those coming after me. Being a boss, it's important to me to create a work environment where having a baby, being a parent, and simply being human are all seen as normal.
We have somehow been conditioned to operate in work environments as if we don’t have other stuff going on in our lives; I don’t think that benefits anybody. Fostering an environment of mutual respect and understanding, one where we do this work because we care about it, and we take care of each other in the process.
Somehow, through and despite it all, here I am. I have three children under 8. I moved over on to my first ever non-temporary contract – I have a tenured position at a UK university. I’ve gotten grants, I’m publishing papers.
Looking back, I think that optimism, determination, and humor have been my sustaining force. That, and the four beaming faces I get to come home to, who don’t care what I have or haven’t got done that day; that only care that I’m there, and I’m theirs.
Somehow I got to where I wanted to go – and then I realized that it wasn’t the destination. I don’t think we ever arrive, we just journey to the next point we can see on the route, without knowing what we’ll encounter on the way, or even whether we’ll necessarily get there.