Male busts, male bust everywhere... Cambridge academia can feel like a place where women don't belongAndrew Dunn

To say that Cambridge has a negative history concerning women in academia is a dramatic understatement. Such a past is best evidenced in the 1897 protest against women being permitted to receive full Cambridge University degrees. Brandishing banners with the slogan “No Gowns for Girtonites” (then an all-female college), the male student protestors, in a fashion so macabre that it is almost amusing, decapitated an effigy of a female student riding a bike before leaving it at the gates of Newnham. Such a ludicrous and graphic display of misogyny certainly points towards a historically hostile relationship between male-dominated academia and women. For example, in my grandmother’s lifetime, women were not permitted to become full members of the University, while when my mother was born the University was segregated, with women only being allowed to attend one of the four all-female colleges. Nowadays, most would disagree with these impositions of prohibition and segregation upon women, raising the question of whether academic inaccessibility has been eliminated for the women of my generation in Cambridge.

“My university experience thus far has rarely shown gender to be woven into mainstream academia”

Sadly, one of my first experiences of Cambridge, at a college open day, left me feeling that this was not the case. While such a visit is supposed to be encouraging and promote accessibility, instead my sister and I came face to face with the epitome of the Cambridge professor stereotype. Reclining in an armchair, ‘manspreading’ with a distant, glazed expression, the professor oozed unapproachability and entitlement. Through condescending looks and remarks, he made it clear that he did not think I was a suitable Cambridge applicant. After undermining my academic credentials, he bluntly stated: “We have lots of anorexics here”. He proceeded to explain that Cambridge was not a place for the mentally ‘fragile’, constantly reiterating the prevalence of eating disorders at the University.

While I recognise that the comments uttered were not inherently sexist, manifested within them was a latent sexist attitude. Eating disorders are, by no means, issues faced by women alone, but by placing such a heavy emphasis on this issue, I could not help but feel I had been cast into an unfair female stereotype. The repeated mentions of ‘fragility’ served to reinforce his patronising message that I may not be able to ‘handle’ Cambridge. While some may consider my suspicions to be speculative, I could not help but think that such comments would not have been made had I been male. Unsurprisingly, after his concluding remark that I was ‘lucky’ that he probably wouldn’t have the chance to interview me, I decided not to apply to that college. In fact, I questioned whether to apply to Cambridge at all.

Fortunately, none of the academic staff I have come across since arriving at Cambridge have exhibited these attitudes. Despite this, gender imbalance is still visible – the overwhelming maleness of my lecturers as well as the authors on my reading lists is striking. In fact, when female authors are mentioned, it is often in specific relation to feminism or other gender-based topics. To me, this is problematic as my university experience thus far has rarely shown gender to be woven into mainstream academia. Instead, this is boxed off as a separate area of scholastic thought with the main purpose of providing a modern counter-argument to traditional viewpoints. By separating gender-based work, often written by women, in this way, the concerns, interests and experiences of women are devalued as it is implied that they are of limited usefulness to mainstream academia.

In 2015, an article was published which discussed gender inequality at Cambridge. Here, it was stated that one in three women don’t think that Cambridge “provides an environment that allows them to work to the best of their ability”. These statistics, together with my own personal experience of Cambridge in the short period that I have been here, undeniably suggest that Cambridge academia is still failing to be completely accessible for women. Clearly, there is a need for the university to evaluate how to move forward in order to create a more supportive environment for its whole community. In the meantime, women in academia must remember their value and contribution to their field despite the condescension or underestimation that they may face. After all, we do deserve to be here, which I remind myself with a rather satisfied smile every time I see that one disparaging professor