Where’s Walda: In The Stars
This Walda: The astronomer Vera Rubin at the Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Ariz., in 1965. [Photo credit: Carnegie Institution of Washington]. (Also, don’t you love the face she’s making? Like, I’m working here, people. Leave me alone.)
When asked about her childhood, Vera Rubin, inevitably, talked about the windows in her bedroom:
“My childhood bedroom…had a bed which was under windows that faced north. At about age 10, while lying in bed, I started watching the stars just move through the night. By age 12, I would prefer to stay up and watch the stars than go to sleep. I started learning, going to the library and reading…There was just nothing as interesting in my life as watching the stars every night.”
At 14, she asked her father if she could take the train, from Philly to D.C., to attend the monthly meetings of the amateur astronomer’s club. He agreed (and accompanied her). They would make the trip every month until she graduated high school.
At 15, Vera and her father made their own telescope, from an improvised cardboard tube that once held linoleum floor covering with a 3-inch lens mounted on a flimsy wooden tripod. She’d soon replace that with her camera, facing north with the shutter open over a period of hours (which yielded much better results).
She’d pose and solve mathematical puzzles to pass the time. Once, on a family road trip, she determined how many different license plates could be made with three numbers and 2 letters.
Vera Cooper at Vassar College, 1946.
At 17, she was accepted into (and received a scholarship to attend) Vassar College.
At 20, she’d be awarded the only astronomy degree in Vassar’s 1948 graduating class.
At 22, a master’s degree in astronomy from Cornell.
At 26, a PhD in astronomy from Georgetown (all while raising two children [she met her partner, Bob, at Cornell])
Like most moms, Vera took her children to the playground…where she read the latest issue of the Astrophysical Journal.
She would publish in that same journal the year she graduated from Georgetown.
Dr. Rubin would go on to teach astronomy at Georgetown for 10 years.
She’d also be the first woman to enter the Palomar Observatory as an astronomer.
She proved the existence of dark matter, earning her the title “the Mother of Dark Matter”.
She discovered a new galaxy with two halves that rotate in opposite directions.
She published over 100 peer-reviewed articles, won the National Medal of Science, the James Craig Watson Medal from the National Academy of Sciences, the Dickson Prize in Science, the Henry Norris Russell Lectureship, was elected to the National Academy of Sciences, and earned almost every honor imaginable.
Her discoveries essentially created new subfields of research, astrophysics and particle physics.
She has had a ridge on Mars, an asteroid, a satellite, a galaxy, and a national observatory in Chile named after her.
And, for decades, she served as inspiration to aspiring female astronomers.
Her and her husband Bob would raise 4 children, who would all earn their PhDs in Science. Their daughter’s was in astronomy.
Vera Rubin at Rocky Mountain National Park with her children in 1961. From left to right: Karl, Dave, Allan, Vera, and Judy. Vera is 33. [Photo Credit: Allan Rubin and the Rubin family]
In listing Vera’s brilliance, and the accolades that came with, it’s also important to note her perseverance.
The many times she had to rely on herself, knowing, this is just what she was supposed to do. It’s what she was meant to do.
Because, she certainly didn’t get support from her high school physics teacher, “you should do okay as long as you stay away from science.”
Or, the admissions board from Princeton, who didn’t accept women into their graduate program.
Or, her doctoral advisor, who met her in the lobby of the academic building because it was ‘inappropriate’ for women to be in the upstairs offices.
Or, the all-male, “notorious man cave” that was the Palomar Observatory that did not allow women to enter until Rubin’s interview.
Or, the prestigious Cosmos Club, who asked her to enter the side door when addressing the Washington Philosophical Society, because women weren’t allowed through the front door.
Or, the Nobel prize committee, who, despite her numerous discoveries, accomplishments, accolades, and nominations, never awarded Dr. Rubin the prize. (Only 25 women have received the Nobel prize in sciences since its inception in 1901).
Or, or, or.
Photo credit: Carnegie Institution of Science
I’d like to think of Dr. Vera Rubin’s work on dark matter as the ultimate example of women in the sciences.
Just because you don’t see them, in the history books or on stage, doesn’t mean they weren’t there.
Despite her science teacher, she majored in astronomy at Vassar.
Despite her rejection from Princeton, she attended Cornell.
Despite a world not set up for mothers attending graduate school, she attended a university that allowed night classes.
Despite an observatory that originally did not allow women, during her interview tour, she quietly taped the outline of a paper skirt to the image of the man on the sole restroom.
Despite the Nobel committee not acknowledging her work, she continued to fight for the presence of women in conferences, academic journals, faculty appointments, and labs.
“I hope you will love your work as I love doing astronomy. I hope that you will fight injustice and discrimination in all its guises. I hope you will value diversity among your friends, among your colleagues...among the student body population. I hope that when you are in charge, you will do better than my generation has...
Science is competitive, aggressive, demanding. It is also imaginative, inspiring, and uplifting. You can do it, too...Each one of you can change the world, for you are made of star stuff, and you are connected to the universe.”
I’ve given talks on the history of Women in STEM as part of my role at the Museum. inevitably, at the end of these talks, eager parents would ask , “what can I do? how can I get my daughter into STEM?
If Vera were to answer that question, it might be as simple as to position her to see the stars before she falls asleep. And, like her parents, encourage her to be curious, to seek what she loves, and, of course, tell her the stories of those who came before her. So she knows she’s not alone. Your daughter (and son) are made of star stuff, too.
Oh, and one more thing, the U.S. Mint is releasing the Vera Rubin quarter next month. You should get one, or, a whole bag.
“I live and work with three basic assumptions:
There is no problem in science that can be solved by a man that cannot be solved by a woman.
Worldwide, half of all brains are in women.
We all need permission to do science, but, for reasons that are deeply ingrained in history, this permission is more often given to men than to women.”
resources
Interested in reading more?
Uncredited: Women’s Overlooked, Misattributed, and Stolen Work by Allison Tyra
Vera Rubin: A Life by Jacqueline Mitton and Simon Mitton
For the young people in your life
Headstrong: 52 Women Who Changed Science—and the World by Rachel Swaby
Women in Science: 50 Fearless Pioneers Who Changed the World by Rachel Ignotofsky
The Stuff Between the Stars: How Vera Rubin Discovered Most of the Universe by Sandra Nickel
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More soon,
Emily