Simone Brixius-Anderko
BIO
Assistant professor of pharmaceutical sciences at the University of Pittsburgh (USA). Mother of two daughters.
Twitter: @Brixius_Simone
“I learned that it’s okay to ask for help–support often came from the most unexpected places.”
I was a mother of two daughters before I even considered an academic career. Growing up in a working-class environment in Germany, higher education was never an option for me–it was frowned upon and financially out of reach.
I moved out at 17, dropped out of high school, and took a job at a house construction company. By 24, I was a mother of two sweet daughters, unemployed, and facing the harsh reality of being trapped in a cycle of disadvantage.
Determined to create a better future for my children, I made the life-changing decision to attend night school and complete my high school degree. My youngest was just nine months old. It was a grueling two years.
I worked on weekends and attended school in the evenings while raising two young children on my own. Childcare and studying were a constant juggle, often leaving me playing with my toddlers on the floor while reviewing notes. Sleepless nights were the norm.
After earning my high school diploma, I enrolled at the local university to study molecular biology. During this time, I became a single mom. Letting go of perfectionism and procrastination was key to survival. My priorities shifted—laundry lived in piles, and takeout was often on the menu. My focus was on securing a better future for my kids, not meeting societal standards of perfection.
I had no family support, but I was fortunate to have good friends who stepped in when things got tough. I also learned that it’s okay to ask for help, support often came from the most unexpected places. Still, the guilt was constant.
I was the last mom picking up her kids from daycare and often had to leave lab courses early to care for them. Financially, things were tough. I vividly remember cooking breakfast food for dinner because it was all we could afford.
During my diploma research, I was offered a PhD position in biochemistry, someone finally took a chance on me. My PhD advisor was a mother in science herself, and her understanding made all the difference. She prioritized family, which allowed me to balance my research and parenting responsibilities. I had an eight-hour window each day to work in the lab before picking up my kids from daycare. On weekends, I often brought them to the lab. Did they love it? Not always, but today, it’s one of their most cherished childhood memories.
Motherhood during my PhD was lonely. There were few other moms in my department, and despite the support of my colleagues, I longed for a community of science moms. A fellowship for mothers in science changed everything, as it introduced me to other women navigating similar challenges. Their support was empowering and helped me realize that I could pursue a scientific career while being a mom.
Before I finished my PhD, I met my incredibly supportive husband. Shortly after, we moved to the United States so I could accept a postdoc position. We sold everything, packed up our lives (including two cats), and arrived at the Detroit airport with five pieces of luggage. Adjusting to life in a new country was hard, especially for my teenage daughters, and the guilt of uprooting them weighed heavily. But I reminded myself that this move was for a better future for all of us.
My postdoc advisor, another science mom, was just as supportive as my PhD advisor. Having strong examples of mothers succeeding in science made a huge difference. In 2021, I transitioned to my independent faculty position at the University of Pittsburgh.
Balancing single motherhood with a demanding academic career was never easy, but having mentors who understood the challenges of motherhood in science gave me the confidence to persist.
Today, my daughters are 19 and 21—one is on her way to becoming a pastry chef, and the other a social worker. We often talk about our wild journey, and I’m incredibly grateful for their trust and support through it all.
My journey has taught me that success in science and motherhood is possible, but it requires resilience, support, and the courage to ask for help. I’m deeply thankful for the women in science who paved the way and showed me that I could succeed not despite being a mother, but because of it.