Hi, Professors.
As an Asian American woman, I am often perceived to look a lot younger than my actual age.
Even in my late 40s, I am still sometimes carded at grocery stores. If I’m in a good mood, I’ll often say something like, “Thanks for making my day” before the cashier apologizes.
I’ve gotten used to this perception of me as younger at stores and at restaurants. But this landed very differently for me when I was a professor.
For instance, one of the first things that happened when I was a brand new Assistant Professor checking in at an administrative building was that I was mistaken for an incoming freshman.
Not too long after that, I met an undergraduate who asked me what classes I was signed up for that fall. When I told him that I was actually a new professor, he physically started backing away from me, mumbled something unintelligible before running away from me.
And almost six years later, after moving to another institution, I attended a welcome reception for new faculty and staff. I met a very high-level administrator who assumed that I was a post-doc. My dean at the time, who was standing next to me, intervened and explained that I had taught for several years at another university as an Assistant Professor.
I guess the five years had aged me enough so that I no longer looked like an undergraduate at that point!
One way that I dealt with this misperception of me was through my sartorial choices. I had a whole closet of what I called my “teacher clothes,” which usually consisted of a sheath dress, cropped blazer, and heels. This was my way of “performing my professor identity” since I did not visually track as one.
Do you have your own stories to share of when you were mistaken for a graduate student or an undergraduate on campus? Or were you simply told that “you just don’t look like a professor.”
In this 15th episode of the Rise with Clarity Podcast, I’m going to try and unpack what it means when you are told that you don’t look the part of a professor as well as the professional implications for you. This topic follows some of the themes discussed in my 14th podcast episode, where I talked about Leading Graduate Seminars for Your First Time.
When You Don’t Look the Part of a Professor
So, what does it mean when you don’t look like a professor? The short answer to this question is that you are often not treated as a member of the professoriate in many interactions that you have on campus. And this can be annoying, infuriating, exhausting, or all of the above.
If you are trying to navigate the already challenging space of the tenure track as a new professor, it can be an additional obstacle to do it as a woman of color. On any given day, you have to expend a lot of mental energy to:
-try and “look professorial”
-justify your presence and intelligence
-challenge the assumption that you are inexperienced or incompetent
-carry yourself with professional authority because it is being challenged
-work harder to gain respect
-never let your guard down, and
-continually process microaggressions or even hostilities in the classroom or on campus.
There are a lot of structural barriers at PWI (Predominantly white institutions) that are working against you, as well as societal expectations of what a professor is deemed to look like.
Do a quick image search for the word “professor” on Google. Do you see anyone who looks like you?
On my end, I do not.
Now it’s very true that there are gendered dimensions to this. Women professors on the whole face structural barriers and gendered discrimination in the higher ed workplace. I know of one very senior white woman professor at an Ivy League who was called by her first name, while all of her male colleagues were referred to as Professor so and so.
Knowing that every woman who has worked as a professor has stories of her own to share who might insist that your experiences are not that unique, I’d like to offer this phrase to you: “Yes, and…” “Yes, I’m sorry that happened to you, and…let’s continue to listen to more narratives, especially from women of color faculty.”
Because I am certain that allies can benefit from listening to and learning from your multidimensional experiences on the ground.
So, in that spirit I would like to share two published examples with you here.
Please Call Me Dr.
The first is from Dr. Nichole Margarita Garcia, who published two essays related to this topic: One is called “You Don’t Look Like a Professor” and the other is “Please call me Dr.” In these two essays, Dr. Garcia describes her experiences with not looking the part of the professor as well as her strategies to overcome this.
One strategy was to turn to many of the poignant and powerful essays in the volume Presumed Incompetent: The Intersections of Race and Class for Women in Academia.
This collection of essays has been mentioned before on this podcast, and I want to highlight the essays by Dr. Carmen Lugo-Lugo, Dr. Sherrée Wilson, and Dr. Linda Trinh Võ as well as noting that there is now a second volume out, published in 2020.
A second strategy for Dr. Garcia was to be clear with her students about why they should address her as Dr. Garcia.
I want to read her words directly here:
“When I request to be called Dr. Garcia, it is a collective witnessing and the reason why I sit in the Ivory Tower. You are not only calling me a “Dr.” but you are honoring the women before me. I have had to establish myself in different ways from many of my colleagues. As a woman of color who is young, I am perceived by many (both White and people of color) as not being faculty.
In my previous writings, I have written about being underrepresented, and what my representation means in institutions of higher education. Yes, I operate every day in systems of oppression, racism, and White supremacy. Now that we know that, how do we engage in anti-racist struggles in everyday practice?” (Garcia 2018)
Rethink Your Assumptions of What a Professor is Supposed to Look Like
The second example is from Dr. Kerry Ann Rockquemore, who is the founder of the National Center for Faculty Development and Diversity. I remember regularly reading Dr. Rockquemore’s Monday Motivator essays when I first started teaching. One struck a chord with me.
In an essay called “Pick Your Battles,” she explained how a student came to her office, asking for Professor Rockquemore. Even though her nameplate was clearly on the door and she was the only person in the room, the student did not associate her with being the professor. After thinking intentionally about what to do, here is how Dr. Rockquemore decided to respond:
“When I’m the only person sitting in this office, and you ask me ‘Where is Professor Rockquemore?’ it makes me feel frustrated that you’ve looked at me and assumed I couldn’t be that person. It also makes me feel angry that I live in a world where I have to keep explaining to people that I’m really a professor.
Professors come in lots of different packages, so I just want to encourage you to rethink your assumptions about the type of people who fill that role. Now, how can I help you?” (Rockquemore 2022; featured on UC Santa Barbara’s Graduate Student Resource Center Grad Post Blog and in NCFDD newsletters.)
I’ve often returned to this second example, shared with candor and vulnerability by Professor Rockquemore. She channeled her true feelings and frustration in the moment into a teachable lesson. It’s pretty powerful.
In most of my podcast episodes, I conclude by offering a number of strategies to help you navigate a certain challenge. But in this case, I don’t think there’s a one-size-fits-all set of strategies that I can come up with that would honor your particular identity, situation, and context.
And honestly, I don’t think it’s all on you, either. Check out Dr. Yolanda Flores Niemann’s recommendations for administrators and allies in her essay: “Lessons from the Experiences of Women of Color Working in Academia.”
Perhaps it may be a start to know that while you may feel alone in your department, there are other women of color faculty who share similar experiences. And know that there are narratives and communities out there that can help you to process these experiences.
I hope that one day this topic will be a non-issue in the future, where you can be your own authentic self, take up space, exhibit your brilliance, and be accorded the professional respect that you deserve and have always deserved in the academy.
Take care, Professors!