Science - 6 December 2019

I was 17 years old when I learned

that I was going to be a mother. Our

first daughter came into the world

4 days after my high school gradu-

ation. I didn’t know whether I was

going to make it through college, let

alone grad school. But my educa-

tion was important to me because

I’d witnessed my own mother at-

tend college and advance her career

when I was in high school. I wanted

to follow in her footsteps.

I studied biology in college, tak-

ing a full course load and work-

ing night shifts at a local hospital

to help provide for my new fam-

ily. It was challenging to balance

classes, work schedules, and being

a mom. But I got through it, find-

ing moments of joy along the way.

On the nights when I was home, I’d

read my class notes out loud with

my daughter. She’d respond by asking questions, such as

“Mom, what are bacteria?” It helped us both learn.

After I graduated, I knew that I would need a Ph.D. to

land the kind of job I wanted. But I was nervous about

whether the life of a grad student would be possible as a

mother. I’d given birth to our second daughter during my

last year of college, so we now had two young girls to raise.

When I interviewed for my Ph.D. position, I asked a

senior grad student whether there were any resources to help

student parents. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t really know of

anybody who would be able to help with that.” Her answer

reinforced a fear I’d harbored: that I would be a lone student

parent in my Ph.D. cohort, trying to forge a path on my own.

I arrived in New York feeling more than the usual new-

grad-student angst. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to cut it

academically, and it didn’t help that—as I’d feared—none of

my peers were parents. I also suffered from a more personal

fear that I was being selfish—that my decision to prioritize

my career was going to have long-

term negative repercussions for my

kids. I imagined them looking back

in 20 years and thinking that I didn’t

spend enough time with them, or

that I took away their happiness.

So, I made a rule to never be vis-

ibly upset about my work in front

of my children. When I went home,

they needed me to just be their

mom. Grad school was stressful,

but it felt unfair to complain about

a life that I had asked my fam-

ily to sacrifice for. One night after

a tough day at work, I pulled into

our driveway, sat in the car, and let

a few tears fall down my cheeks.

Then, I pulled myself together and

put on a smile when I greeted my

daughters at our front door.

Over the past year, though, I’ve

started to let go of some of this

worry. I’ve realized that we have not only adapted to our

new situation, but we are thriving. My husband landed a

job that he is happy with. My older daughter dreams of

becoming a marine biologist. And my younger daughter

loves exploring, something we do often now that we live

in a new state. Both daughters also constantly remind me

that they’re proud of the things I do. Recently, while driving

past the cancer institute I work at, my older daughter said,

“Thinking about people having cancer is so sad, but I feel

better knowing that you are researching it to help.”

Navigating academia as a young mother is hard, but it’s

also rewarding. My kids are learning to look at the world

through the lens of science, and watching their mom suc-

ceed inspires them. I look forward to seeing them follow my

footsteps, whatever path they choose. j

Ashley Stenzel is a Ph.D. student at the University at Buffalo,

part of the State University of New York system.

“Navigating academia

as a young mother is hard,

but it’s also rewarding.”

A mother’s guilt

T

he sun was rising as we drove across the Minnesota state line, marking the moment my fam-

ily and I left the only home we had ever known. I wanted to feel excited about my new Ph.D.

program, but all I could feel was guilt. We were moving to New York so that I could pursue my

goal of becoming a professor. The move was good for me professionally, but I worried about

uprooting my husband and daughters. I also feared that—with the demands placed on me in

grad school—I wouldn’t be able to give my kids the childhood they deserved. The 3 years that

have passed since then haven’t been easy. But I’ve realized that I’m not the only person who benefits

from my education. My kids do, too.

By Ashley Stenzel

ILLUSTRATION: ROBERT NEUBECKER

1278 6 DECEMBER 2019 • VOL 366 ISSUE 6470 sciencemag.org SCIENCE

WORKING LIFE

Published by AAAS

on December 12, 2019^

http://science.sciencemag.org/

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