Physics department’s culture ostracizes marginalized students
The College’s mission statement prioritizes an intimate learning environment, one that nourishes the mind and body, urging all to ‘‘climb high, climb far’’ in a singular community defined by close, intensive interactions between engaged students, dedicated faculty and staff, and devoted alumni. However, for marginalized students in the physics department, this mission feels out of reach. The same intimate environment that is meant to empower us has often been the source of harm, reinforcing exclusion and further isolating us.
In the light of these experiences, we decided to create a new club, Wavelength, which aims to create an environment where students from traditionally marginalized backgrounds can share their experiences in the department. The department has supported the club, and has offered an ear to hear our grievances. However, unfortunately, we have reached a point where listening is no longer enough. There are an overwhelming number of non-male and/or non-white students who have shared deleterious interactions with professors. As seniors who feel genuine responsibility for fostering an inclusive environment in the department for students from all backgrounds, it is obvious to us that words and placations no longer suffice.
Estefany Lopez-Velazquez ’25
I could write a book about all the moments when a person in the physics department has made me feel disrespected. Still, the hardest moments came when professors, who didn’t understand my background, made assumptions about my commitment and ability to be a physics major. I went to an under-resourced high school in Mississippi, where the highest math class available for me to take was Algebra II. There were times when I left office hours feeling worse than when I walked in. I remember, once, while asking a math question, a professor told me that I shouldn’t pursue physics because my high school hadn’t prepared me with the necessary background.
In physics classrooms, I don’t feel like myself. I find myself dissociating just to get through interactions with professors and students that leave me feeling unwell and less human. This matter is deeply embedded in the culture of the department.
I quickly realized that other physics majors, particularly women of color, had similar experiences. We started to avoid going to office hours alone; the feeling of being dismissed or talked down to was so common that it felt safer to go in pairs.
In my physics thesis I wrote a chapter, “The weight of institutional silence,” that details the experiences of marginalized students in the department. Drawing from ten anonymous interviews conducted by myself with underrepresented students from first-years to seniors, the research highlights patterns of exclusion while also recognizing the moments of care and support that made a difference. The results broke my heart. Many students shared similar experiences of harmful micro- and macro-aggressions that have long been ignored in the physics department. The interviews reveal how institutional culture and professors’ attitudes contribute to the alienation of underrepresented students in the physics community. The problem is clearly systemic: It is time for the department to confront it for the sake of the students and the integrity of our academic environment.
Jordanne Brazie ’25
When reflecting on my time in the physics department, I can recall more times a professor has made me feel patronized than uplifted. If I had a nickel for every time a white, male professor has caused me to feel small or unworthy of success, the FAFSA would likely disqualify me from my financial aid.
In all seriousness, the marginalization occuring in scientific fields is an epidemic, one that the Physics Department should be fighting rather than upholding. I personally recall professors giving me less partial credit on exams for answers that were far more complete than those of my male counterparts. When I inquired about this discrepancy, I remember the professor informing me that he didn’t feel like I knew what I was talking about as well as the male student, despite completing more of the problem correctly. In lab settings, I can recall having been paired with white, male partners that spoke down to me; when the professor would find something wrong with our setup, my partner would subsequently blame it on me while the two men laughed at my expense. I have experienced male professors falsely accusing me of dishonesty by explicitly saying there is no possible way I could write such a nuanced answer when my male counterparts have written similar things without scrutiny.
In my experience, to be a woman in STEM is to constantly censor yourself to avoid ridicule. It is to fear asking for help because you don’t want professors to have any more reason not to believe in you. It means struggling through every lecture, problem set, and lab alone, because asking for help would mean feeding into the professor’s implicitly biased beliefs.
In writing this, I don’t aim to slander the department or seek retribution against professors who have wronged me. I was ready to graduate and never waste another thought on it, but then I heard similar stories shared by women of all types of backgrounds. Enduring this dynamic has undoubtedly made me a stronger individual, but if I were to graduate without sharing my experiences, what is there to stop the next girl from feeling like she isn’t capable as well?
Why we aim to share our stories
A common sentiment expressed by certain professors is “I struggled through physics, and now you will too.” This mantra is at the heart of our inspiration for Estefany’s thesis work. We seek to understand where the department is failing us in order to ensure accountability for the next generation of students at the College.
One of the foremost issues in the department is that professors often seem to conflate confidence with competence. Students with the most confidence typically correlate with specific gender, racial, and socioeconomic backgrounds. To be clear, we are not disparaging any of our classmates, who all work extremely hard in their own right, but the assumption that the students who are most comfortable in academic settings are inherently the most likely to succeed perpetuates a system of inequality.
The physics department at the College prides itself on fostering close-knit relationships between students and faculty, but in reality, these relationships can become sources of harm for students who don’t fit the mold of the “ideal physicist” — someone often portrayed as a white male who is confident, assertive, and already well-versed in advanced math and physics. It seems clear whom professors expect to succeed. Certain labs are viewed as the most prestigious and sought-after in the department; these labs get filled with the “golden boys” of the department, but are noticeably lacking women. Out of the five women in the department writing theses this year, three are working with women professors. The other two are working in the same lab. That means of the five male professors conducting research, only one has taken on a woman thesis student.
Furthermore, the department expressed immense apprehension in the removal of the major-declaration photograph of Max Hall, who had allegedly filmed other students in a bathroom. Despite complaints of discomfort from students who went so far as to attempt to cover the image, the department delayed taking down the image for weeks, instead removing the students’ coverings, citing legal concerns. This was at a point when Hall’s profile, had already been removed from school-wide platforms like WSO. This delayed action suggests that student comfort is only a concern for the department when it is easy to act upon.
It is crucial that these problems be addressed, not by students — who are already facing the immense burden of trying to navigate the system — but by those in positions of power. Faculty members, and the College’s leadership need to recognize that they have a responsibility to cultivate a truly inclusive and supportive environment, and to make changes that are not merely lip service but backed by real action. Marginalized students should not be the ones carrying the weight of cultural transformation. We should be supported by the people and the institutions that are supposed to help us succeed.
It is important to note that this work is a labor of love, driven by the desire to make physics a more inclusive and supportive space for marginalized students. We hope to make the path for future physicists less challenging than it was for us. However, until the department acknowledges its cultural shortcomings and commits to tangible, sustained action to address them, these issues will persist, and more students will continue to be left behind.
Jordanne Brazie ’25 is an astrophysics major from Stephentown, N.Y. Estefany Lopez-Velazquez ’25 is a physics major from Byhalia, Miss.
