No. S-97-25
"Is There a Crack in the Darkened Glass Ceiling?"
by
Dr. Shirley Ann Jackson, Chairman
U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission
Keynote Address to the National Technical Association
69th Annual Conference
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
November 7, 1997
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am delighted at this
opportunity to participate in the 69th Annual Conference of the
National Technical Association (NTA). Like many of you, I take a
profound personal interest in periodically re-examining the
status of minority women in science, engineering, and technology,
and I place a high value on stimulating the recruitment and
retention of minority women in science-based careers. Programs
such as this conference and job fair--not to mention the awards
dinner this evening for Top Women in the Sciences and
Engineering--are both a testament to our success and a source of
inspiration. I am honored to be your guest speaker this evening.
I have entitled my presentation, "Is There a Crack in the
Darkened Glass Ceiling?"
"Colored girls should learn a trade." The year was 1965; I was a
college freshman at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology,
deliberating on what my major would be--newly separated from the
support system of my family and my community back in Washington,
DC--one of two African-American women in a class of 900--and the
person addressing me with this particular bit of career advice
was an MIT professor. How does a young woman, eager for success
but also desirous of support and respect, respond to so
denigrating a suggestion, to so vivid a depiction of a darkened
"glass ceiling"? Why a darkened "glass ceiling"? I will tell
you, but first, I will tell you my response. I chose a "trade":
I chose physics! Four years later, my friend, Dr. Jennifer Rudd,
and I became the first African-American women to graduate from
MIT. She went on to become a physician. I remained at MIT as a
graduate student, and received my Ph.D. in theoretical elementary
particle physics in 1973, the first African-American woman to
receive a doctorate from that institution.
Despite any personal or public success I have achieved since
then, that single offhanded remark--"Colored girls should learn a
trade"--made a profound and long-standing impression on me. I
would not be mentioning it this evening if it had not. I would
like to use that remark as a lead-in to my topic this evening:
the darkened "glass ceiling" that has existed for women and
minorities, especially minority women, in science and engineering
fields--that is, the intangible barrier that can exist within any
hierarchical system, which prevents women or minorities from
rising beyond a certain level of achievement and recognition. I
refer to a darkened "glass ceiling" because if we are subject to
it, we often cannot see beyond it. We do not always know what is
on the other side or who is on the other side--but we do know
that it is keeping us from where we think we want to go, and we
would like the
opportunity to see.
I would like to examine ways in which cracks have occurred and can continue to
occur in this darkened "glass ceiling," from three angles: (1) the historical
perspective in America; (2) the direct contributions of scientific and
technical careers to the minority community; and (3) the elements needed for
continued progress.
I. The Historical Perspective in America
A review of early science and technology in America reveals three facts
germane to our discussion. First, the pursuit of a purely scientific career
was neither easy, nor of immediately evident benefit in a society struggling
to survive. Most early American practitioners of science were gifted amateurs
with time to indulge their personal interests and thirst for knowledge,
supported only by their own internal drive and curiosity. Second, despite the
cultural biases of that time, African-Americans were represented in this group
of early scientists. A personal favorite is Benjamin Banneker, a free
African-American in 18th Century America who excelled in mathematics, studied
astronomy, wrote almanacs, and assisted in surveying the land, planning the
layout of streets, and selecting building sites for the District of Columbia.
As a child, I found Banneker fascinating because, like me, he loved math and
he lived in Washington, D.C. Dr. Ernest Everett Just, the son of a builder of
wharves and a teacher, is another example. Dr. Just graduated from Dartmouth
in 1907 at the top of his class with a degree in zoology, and later became the
head of the Department of Zoology at Howard University. Dr. Just performed
seminal work in cell biology at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in
Massachusetts, working there only in the summers because he could not obtain a
full-time position, but nonetheless managing to publish over 70 scientific
papers. These accounts strikingly illustrate my third point related to early
American science: female scientists, especially African-American women, are
absent from the record.
That is not to say that women were absent from early American technology.
Technological pursuits were a matter of survival--activities like the building
of houses and roads, caring for the sick, planting and harvesting crops in
ever more efficient ways, or food preservation. These endeavors were
widespread, but were so decentralized in individual homes, fields, and
business enterprises that their practitioners remain anonymous. Despite this
gap in biographical records, we can infer that women, including minority
women, played an extensive role in health-related fields, as well as in food
production and preservation--areas traditionally the concern and sphere of
women. However, as the fields of technological inquiry became more
specialized and industrially oriented in the late 19th Century, technology
became more exclusively the province of men, including a few African-Americans
like Granville T. Woods, who put his mechanical aptitude to work first in a
machine shop, then in 1872 on a railroad, in 1874 on a rolling mill, and later
by studying mechanical engineering in college. By 1880, Woods owned his own
shop in Cincinnati, and in 1887 received patents for an improved steam boiler
furnace and the synchronous multiplex railway telegraph. He sold his
apparatus for electrically transmitting messages to the Bell Telephone system,
and his electric railway to the General Electric Company. Offered a position
by Thomas Edison, he chose to remain independent, and marketed most of his
inventions through his own company, the Woods Electric Company.
African-American women are not represented in the records of advanced
scientific and technological accomplishment until the 1930's and 1940's.
Early trailblazers included Ruth E. Moore, the first African-American woman to
earn a doctorate in bacteriology (from Ohio State University in 1933);
followed by Ruth Beckham in psychology (from the University of Minnesota in
1934); Flemmie Kittrell in nutrition (at Cornell in 1935)--who went on to
serve as a consultant to the U.S. State Department in conducting a nutritional
survey of Liberia and five other African nations in 1947-1948; Jessie J. Mark
in botany (at Iowa State in 1935); Roger Arliner Young in zoology (at the
University of Pennsylvania in 1940); and Mary Maynard Daly in Chemistry (from
Columbia in 1948). The accomplishments of these African-American women, and
others who followed them, paralleled a growing U.S. awareness of the
importance of scientific inquiry.
As World War II approached, and eventually engulfed the normal patterns of
daily life, an unprecedented demand arose for human resources (including
women) trained in science and technology to perform important military-related
work for the government. Despite the internal drive that had led many women
to pursue independent careers in science, the demand for a vast commitment of
human resources--and in particular for women workers--could not be sustained.
Although the end of the war enhanced the stature of science and scientists, it
brought to an abrupt end the wide-scale participation of women in the
industrial workforce.
Certainly, some scientifically trained women would find their careers in
government service--including Dorothy McClendon, an African-American
microbiologist who coordinated microbial research for the U.S. Army Tank
Automotive Command for more than 24 years. Like nearly every scientific
practitioner before her, she had the will to pursue her chosen career (in the
biological sciences) despite obstacles, through the Tennessee Agricultural and
Industrial State University, Wayne State University, the University of
Detroit, and Purdue. Still another African-American woman who should be noted
here is Evelyn Boyd Granville, born in Washington D.C. in 1924, who obtained a
Ph.D. in mathematics from Yale in 1949--the first African-American woman to do
so. She worked as a mathematician at the National Bureau of Standards, and as
a consultant in numerical analysis at IBM in the 1950's. She retired as a
Professor Emeritus from California State University. By virtue of her work in
government and industry, Evelyn Boyd Granville was unusual for her time. The
vast majority of Black women who achieved "firsts" in their personal education
spent their entire careers at Black colleges, focusing on instruction.
These African-Americans were the precedent-setters, the pioneers, the
visionaries, the ones who saw or created early cracks in the darkened glass
ceiling before we even thought of it as a glass ceiling--before the American
populace in general could envision even the possibility of a society in which
women and minorities could take leadership roles in science and technology.
What was it like to be one of those early African-American women of science?
I am not sure that any of us can answer that question accurately, because of
the unique conditions that so directly affected their careers, yet their lives
clearly attest to an overriding internal commitment to excel, to overcome
obstacles that stood between them and their goals.
Like their careers, mine has had its seasons of prosperity. I was educated
and began my career as a particle theorist. I later became a condensed matter
theorist, conducting research for 15 years at AT&T Bell Laboratories. In the
Spring of 1995, in the space of a few months, I went from being a Professor of
Physics, at Rutgers University, to become a Commissioner of the U.S.Nuclear
Regulatory Commission (NRC)--and two months later, in July 1995, to become the
NRC Chairman--both the first woman and the first African-American to hold that
position.
My early years as an undergraduate at MIT--1964 to 1968--were tumultuous ones,
sometimes triumphant and all too often tragic. As you are all aware, the
Spring of 1968 was when Dr. King was assassinated. The murder of Robert F.
Kennedy took place the week I graduated. In those years, we minority students
pursuing careers in the sciences, engineering, and mathematics, were acutely
conscious of just how small our numbers were. It takes a certain "critical
mass," so to speak, for members of a group to feel that they form a community
that can be supportive of one another, and in the early years, it was easy to
feel isolated at times. My enrollment at MIT came before the Reverend Dr.
Martin Luther King, Jr. had succeeded in influencing the government to
establish a legal basis for equal employment opportunity. Neither the general
public nor the well-educated elite had fully accepted minority women in a
university like MIT, or in the workplace. Moreover, universities of that era
were still in the process of learning that, to be effective in reaching out to
minority populations, their obligations did not end when the acceptance
letters went into the mail.
There is another side to the situation, however. Being a "pioneer" has its
very positive aspects as well. I went off to college with a modest
scholarship from the Vermont Avenue Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. I knew
that the men, women, and children of that church had invested their money in
my success, and only in part because they knew me and wanted me to succeed.
They also saw me as a standard-bearer for the community, an individual who
might help to lower barriers for other African-Americans coming after me. I
knew, therefore, that I had the support of my community behind me, and at the
same time, I also knew that I had taken on some real obligations, to people
whom I could not think of disappointing.
Moreover, with the civil rights movement at its height, it was inevitable that
the tiny minority of African-American students in places like MIT would feel a
sense of solidarity with that movement. Without question, this was a source
of strength, reinforcing our resolve to achieve our own goals. Thus, if, at
times, we felt lonely or demoralized, or weighed down by the expectations of
others, we could remind ourselves that the struggle for equality was being
fought on many fronts, and that we had a larger responsibility as well. If we
were taking emotional and psychological risks, we knew that others--such as
Dr. King, Fannie Lou Hamer, and Medgar and Myrlie Evers--were taking risks of
a more direct kind.
As we compare the challenges that we faced three decades ago with what
confronts students from minority groups today, some aspects clearly have
become easier, though not all--there are some senses in which history repeats
itself. I wonder, however, whether the students of today have the same sense
of identification with a broader movement that helped to sustain us. Consider
the brief history of African-American women in science that I have just
outlined. What does this history have to say to those of you sitting here
today? I will tell you: it says that not one of us breaks any glass ceiling
alone. No matter what your personal struggle, your obstacles, your
distractions, someone else has struggled before you, and in that sense, they
struggle together with you. There is a continuum--your forebears created
cracks in the darkened glass ceiling , through which you can see and pass.
You are standing upon the shoulders of those who have gone before you.
Therefore, a sense of history, a sense of identification with a centuries-old
uphill battle, can itself become a weapon to ward off discouragement, to
counteract the temptation to settle for less, or for mediocrity.
II. Direct Contribution to the Minority Community
The second perspective I would like to discuss is the direct contribution that
scientific and engineering careers can and do make to minority communities.
Besides any ceilings, or any direct holdback by others, the low numbers of
minorities and women who pursue careers in science and engineering may be
attributable to several factors. As a part of human nature, people feel more
comfortable entering those segments of society where they see others who are
like them. Economics also may play a part--given the expenses of education,
students frequently are more attracted by fields such as law, that offer the
prospect of comparatively fewer years of study followed by a more rapid
payoff. In addition, highly talented individuals sometimes choose careers
below their capabilities because of a fear of being too daring--a fear of
failure.
I would like to draw your attention to yet another factor: the social
pressure on a talented young person of minority background to choose a career
that clearly is relevant to the needs of her or his specific minority
community--a pressure that can, in its own way, sustain and reinforce the
glass ceiling in fields of low minority representation. As a student, I
became quite familiar with this pressure. I would be challenged, sometimes
rather forcefully, to explain exactly how physics--especially theoretical
physics--was relevant to the African-American community.
I do not mean to imply that this challenge is a frivolous one. For example,
where imminent social issues need to be addressed, we must have attorneys
capable of bringing and defending cases, and drafting needed legislation, as a
way to redress social inequities. For that reason, the law has been a natural
pathway for motivated Black achievers. Medicine and education also have been
frequent choices--again because of their direct contribution to the
communities of their practitioners. The question is whether every member of a
minority group should feel bound to choose a profession of direct and obvious
benefit to his or her group.
I would argue that it is of profound value to our minority communities, as
well as to the nation as a whole, that we have Native American, Hispanic, and
African-American mathematicians, scientists, and engineers of renown. I think
all of us are aware that the struggle against inequality and discrimination in
this country is very far from over. For all the gains made, there is much,
much more work to do. Discrimination and racial stereotyping continue in more
subtle and covert forms. One form they take is the false and demeaning
notion--not always articulated aloud--that minority group members do not have
what it takes to succeed in certain fields.
This form of discrimination also occurs against women, of course. Not many
Fortune 500 companies have a woman as CEO. European and Asian nations have
elected Margaret Thatcher, Indira Gandhi, and Benazir Bhutto, whereas in our
own country, only one woman has ever even received the nomination, by a major
party, for the Vice-Presidency of the United States--and that was seen as a
radical step. This disparity certainly is not rooted in an absence of
talented American women!
Just as discrimination and injustice have taken more subtle forms in recent
years, so too I believe that we must take a more subtle view of what benefits
minority communities. Every African-American or Hispanic or Native American
woman (or man) who succeeds as an astrophysicist or engineer, as a
microbiologist or mathematician or computer scientist or chemist, is
contributing to the well-being of her (or his) community, even if the specific
work performed does not have an immediately observable impact on the social
problems of the ghetto, the barrio, or the reservation.
Sooner or later, the message of individual achievement will make a community
impact, as a source of pride to the elders, or as a source of hope and
opportunity to the young. The young, in particular, need to feel that there
is no field foreclosed to them, no glass ceiling intact. They must be
afforded the chance to dream, and must feel that striving to make their dreams
reality is worth the effort.
Moreover, every success sends a message to society as a whole, helping to
break down the prejudices, spoken and unspoken, that imply a lack of
capability for certain minorities in certain professions. When we contribute
to disproving those prejudices, we benefit not only ourselves, not only the
groups to which we belong, but our nation itself. The present and foreseeable
challenges facing this nation simply are too great for society to ignore or to
undervalue the capabilities of entire population segments. If we are to have
a society worth passing on to our children, we must be sure that we engender
an appreciation for one another as human beings with individual qualities,
rather than peering through blinders of prejudice, inherited from the past.
For those of you who have chosen or are considering a career in science or
engineering, I would urge you not to be dissuaded or disheartened by any who
would tell you that such a career is irrelevant to the broader social concerns
of your communities. Such advice is off the mark. The inner city, the
barrio, the reservation, and yes, the suburbs do need teachers, doctors,
lawyers, and social workers, to be sure; but the contributions of scientists,
mathematicians, and engineers, in the long run, are just as vital. Many
environmental, medical, and social problems cannot be resolved without strong
scientific and technological input. Our communities must appreciate these
needs, and support those who choose the path of science and related fields.
III. Elements Required for Continued Progress
In order for minorities and women to realize their full potential in
professional fields of endeavor, three essential conditions must coexist and
be sustained: (1) societal values must support the professional growth and
development of all the human resources available within the society; (2)
opportunity must exist to put training and education to practical use in
endeavors worth pursuing; and (3) perhaps most importantly, within each
individual must be a catalyst--a driving force that compels the individual to
take on challenges and to excel despite obstacles. This last condition
remains a critical path factor in the success of minority women in science and
engineering.
Given the historical perspective already discussed, I believe we are closer to
achieving the first two objectives than we have ever been. Many studies,
discussions, and actions have concentrated on formal organizational support
and assistance to encourage more women (including minority women) to
participate directly in science-based careers. This formal organizational
approach has been an essential contributor to the progress of women in certain
fields over the last decade, and it will play a continuing, vital role in the
future. I also would suggest that we are experiencing a change in employer
perceptions toward women. Most business and governmental organizations
increasingly are recognizing that, if they are to compete successfully in a
global political and economic setting, they must utilize all of the best
resources available to them, especially human resources, both male and female.
Are worthwhile science and technology careers available to engage the talents
and interests of minority women? I believe the answer is yes. You are here
and I am here. Moreover, I would offer the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission
(NRC) as an excellent example of an organization in which unique career
opportunities exist, in an area where women--much less minority women--historically have not been well represented: the nuclear enterprise. The NRC
is an independent regulatory agency created by the Congress in 1975 (after the
Atomic Energy Commission was abolished) to regulate the civilian uses of
nuclear material. The NRC mission is to ensure adequate protection of the
public health and safety, the common defense and security, and the environment
in the use of nuclear materials in the United States. Specifically, NRC
regulatory oversight extends to the operation of nuclear power plants and fuel
cycle facilities; the operation of non-power research, test, and training
reactors; and medical, industrial and research applications of radionuclides.
We also have licensing and oversight responsibility for the storage,
transportation, and disposal of low-level and high-level radioactive waste.
NRC activities include licensing, rulemaking, inspection, and enforcement.
Our budget is just less than $500 million, but the industries we regulate
represent a net capital investment of hundreds of billions of dollars, and the
issues we address are critical to the health and safety, and well-being of our
country.
At full complement, at the top of the NRC are five Commissioners who are
nominated by the President and confirmed by the Senate. They have policy
formulation, rulemaking, and adjudicatory authority and responsibility for the
Commission. The NRC technical and legal staff carries out a regulatory
program based on Commission decisions, which in turn are rooted in the law.
The President appoints one of the Commissioners as Chairman, who, in addition
to having the Commissioner collegial responsibilities, is the principal
executive officer of the Commission. This involves specific managerial,
administrative, and budgeting responsibilities, including ensuring that the
staff carries out the policies of the Commission. The Chairman also is the
official spokesperson of the agency, the primary Congressional point of
contact, and consensus builder. Finally, the Chairman is the principal U.S.
government representative abroad on nuclear safety matters. I am that person.
In some minds, particularly in an era when government is not viewed as
favorably as in the past, the concept of an independent regulatory agency
conjures up an image of prolonged legal proceedings, tedious and arcane rules,
and a mission that the regulated community--and therefore the country--probably would be better off without. On closer examination, however, the NRC
is predominantly a technical agency, with engineering and scientific positions
far outnumbering others. We do have a large complement of lawyers, given the
legal nature of our regulatory responsibilities. Moreover, the NRC, by
reputation, is the world's foremost independent nuclear regulatory body, whose
technical activities, organization, and structure are widely emulated
internationally. The NRC, therefore, makes an excellent case study of the
kind of challenges and opportunities that the world of science and engineering
offers to its practitioners, including the minority women who work there.
With continuous support from senior management over a considerable period of
time, working through extensive recruitment programs and an ambitious career
development program, the NRC has evolved from a predominately male-oriented
employee population to one in which today over 37 percent of our employees are
women. More notably, the ratio of women filling non-clerical professional
positions has increased substantially--lawyers, computer specialists, health
physicists, safety inspectors, and civil, mechanical, electrical, chemical,
and nuclear engineers, among others. A significant number of NRC women are
minority women, including some from developing countries in Asia and the
Indian subcontinent.
In short, the NRC is a reflection of my earlier contention, that with the
makeup of the U.S. workforce changing, and with an ever growing need for
insightful and well-trained minds in industry, academia, and government, it
will be imperative for organizations to seek out the best of human resources,
regardless of race, gender, color, or creed. At the same time, while the
continuing globalization of commerce challenges our domestic economy, it
implies that talent can be tapped from anywhere.
So I ask you: How will you measure up in our diverse society? In a global
economy? Will you strive for equality, through excellence, and create your
own futures? Or will you wait for others to define it for you?
These questions introduce my final point of emphasis, the third element
required for finding and creating cracks in the darkened glass ceiling: the
motivation from within, the inner source of strength in each of us, comprised
of passionate interest, personal ambition, staying power, and multicultural
awareness. Every successful career begins with a dream that must be nurtured
and molded into a full-blown vision. That vision must be strong enough to
face the concrete challenges of one's environment, enduring enough to sustain
the sacrifice and hard work needed to overcome those challenges, and clear
enough to produce stability and continued progress once success has been
achieved. As Marie Curie once said, "Life is not easy for any of us. But
what of that? We must have perseverance and, above all, confidence in
ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something, and that this
thing, at whatever cost, must be attained." Thank you for your attention.
