Ava addresses in her post how important language was to women in the field of science, and it shaped the world’s perception of them. Yet they had the job of popularizing science – educating the masses with their words. This plays back into the idea that women are educators, not researchers. The men didn’t have to popularize astronomy; they were too busy discovering stars. In addition, women’s skill was seen as “innate, not learned,” undermining how hard each woman had to work to where they got. Ava also mentions Maury, whose experiences I found most intriguing, especially in contrast to the silent struggles of Fleming and Cannon. Her ambition made her “inappropriate” which is still rhetoric we can find today. What struck me the most, however, is that she didn’t get as far or get as much credit as the women who “knew their place” like Fleming or Leavitt. The book pointed out that Cannon, for all her groundbreaking achievements, never worked to further the role of women in scientific institutions once they were in the field. Maury did not specifically work to help women either, but her brashness and ambition were punished in ways a man’s would not have been.
Cecilia Payne-Gaposhkin’s biography reminded me of Flannery O’Conner’s short story “Good Country People” in which a disabled and unattractive, yet enlightened and empowered woman is taken advantage of. She lets her guard down because a man shows romantic interest in her, and all her intelligence is shown to be useless. Payne’s story heightens this perceived binary between emotion and reason/intelligence, as well as perpetuating the idea that women are desperate for romantic attention, especially ones who are in “uptight” professions like science. Even the book’s language adds to this myth, extrapolating on the lack of love between Payne and her husband, when the authors could not possibly know the truth of their relationship.
