Number 34, June 2002
Women in the Atmospheric Sciences
Astounding Progress since World War II
Personal Viewpoint of Joanne Simpson in 2002
Prior to World War II the handful of women working in atmospheric
sciences were primarily two or three physicists involved in such
problems as upper atmosphere radiation. Their positions were as
assistants to men.
During World War II approximately 50 women got nine months of training
in the so-called "A" Course, given at three U.S. universities
to train Aviation Cadets to become military Weather Officers. I
was one of the 20 or so that received this training at the University
of Chicago, in the "Fourth War Course", which graduated
in May 1943. This training enabled me to get a B.S. in Meteorology
and have a start at a Masters degree. There were seven women in
my class of 210 and we all finished in the top half. We were trained
to teach Aviation Cadets, which I did both at N.Y.U. and the University
of Chicago, assisting men in teaching dynamics and synoptic laboratory,
mainly plotting and analyzing weather maps by hand, which were used
to teach forecasting.
After the war we women were supposed to go back home, get behind
the mop, and have babies, which nearly all the women did. A handful
of us had become very interested in meteorology and wanted to continue
to become professionals. Every possible obstacle was put in our
way, ranging from refusal of scholarships to downright hostility
from the wives as well as the men. When I talked to the famous Carl
Rossby, the head of the Chicago Department, he said "No woman
has ever obtained a Ph.D. in Meteorology, none ever will, and even
if you did manage to get one, no one will give you a job."
I became even more determined. I taught Physics to War Veterans
at Illinois Tech, and took most of my graduate courses there free
as a faculty member. Rossby went back to Sweden. In 1947, Herb Riehl,
intrigued by my interest in his work in tropical meteorology, took
me on as a Ph.D. student, and I finally got my Ph.D. in 1949, when
my son David was three years old. Being a full-time student, teacher,
and housewife, too, was quite a rat race and day care for David
always a worry.
But the last of Rossby's imprecations was right-no one would give
me a job in meteorology. I got my first foot in by means of a summer
job. Even that was purely a matter of luck. My mother was dating
a famous meteorologist, Dr. Bernhard Haurwitz, then a professor
at MIT. He ran a project at Woods Hole, which involved analysis
of the same tropical cloud observations that so fascinated me when
Riehl taught about tropical clouds in his graduate course at Chicago.
The aircraft measurements made inside and outside trade-wind cumulus
enabled the famous oceanographer Henry Stommel to derive the first
recognition and theory of cumulus entrainment. I took part of the
data set back to Illinois Tech, where I had been promoted to Assistant
Professor and had my first graduate student. He and I did some exciting
work on clouds over heated islands and in 1951 I was finally offered
a full-time job at Woods Hole. My then husband, who had a Ph.D.
in physics, graciously accepted a job there building oceanographic
instruments and working on the side on turbulence.
This story illustrates the problems faced by women trying to do
meteorology at the time-nepotism rules at most organizations, difficulties
in finding child care, and almost uniform male lack of confidence
that women could or would stick to the job and produce anything,
whether research or good forecasts. I heard the story nauseatingly
often from men "Well, I hired a woman once and she left to
have a baby, couldn't come up to scratch." Four female meteorologist
friends of my generation showed real ability, published good research,
and tried to make their way. Two got Ph.Ds, one of those couldn't
find a job and became a traffic analyst. Two gave up, one with lifetime
bitterness, the other apparently graciously accepted being a part-time
research assistant all her life, where she was smarter than most
of those she assisted. The second Ph.D. never married. Her career
was restricted by not being allowed to go on field programs, but
she published good research and was eventually a section head and
served on the American Meteorological Society (AMS) Council.
I broke the barrier against women on field programs by dint of a
wonderful man named Captain Max Eaton in the Office of Naval Research,
who funded nearly all the research at Woods Hole. I had applied
for a WWII amphibious aircraft to carry on the work of modeling
and understanding tropical clouds. The Navy lent the aircraft to
Woods Hole and it was being instrumented when I was told I could
not go on the field program I had planned because Woods Hole never
allowed women on its oceanographic vessels. When informed of this,
Captain Max called the Director of Woods Hole and said " No
Joanne, no airplane" and the fat was in the fire. We carried
out three productive tropical programs in five years, learning more
about entrainment, the tropical boundary layer, and building the
first cumulus models. At Woods Hole, they had to start letting women
oceanographers go on the ships, and so did most other institutions.
By the late 1960's and early 70s a few more women began to earn
Ph.D.s. The Department of Meteorology at the University of Washington,
in the person of Joost Businger, led the way by educating the two
female superstars of the next generation, Peggy LeMone and Kristina
Katsaros. In the mid-70s Peggy and I did a survey of women in professional
positions in meteorology. There were 150 survivors who had Ph.D.s
or equivalent. All, married or single, reported discrimination,
difficulties in getting good jobs, and hurtful criticism, some severely
wounding. The married women nearly all had to put their husbands'
jobs first. Many survived by a mother or other relative providing
childcare. We also found numerous women who had tried and given
up, more than half because of child care problems, nearly all carrying
hurts from hostility and criticism.
Peggy LeMone persuaded the AMS to start a Board on Women and Minorities,
which she caringly chaired for many years. In addition to her brilliant
boundary layer publications from serving as aircraft scientist on
more than 20 important field programs, she acted as a one-woman
crusader to encourage and comfort other women and to show them how
wonderful a career in meteorology could be, if you could be tough
and persistent enough to stand the difficulties.
From the 1970s onward the situation for women meteorologists has
improved so much nearly everywhere that I am personally convinced
they have as good opportunities as men do. Most nepotism rules have
fallen. Many universities make a position for a qualified spouse,
male or female. Many honor societies are trying so hard for diversity
that women and minorities have a slight advantage.
When I came to NASA in 1979, for the first time I was working in
such an enlightened environment that we had enough women to talk
science in the ladies room. Since then it has only improved. When
the Tropical Rainfall Measuring Mission (TRMM) satellite was launched
in Japan in 1997, on the U. S. team, the lead scientist and lead
engineer were both women (myself and Abby Harper) and on the Japanese
team, a leader in their data system was a woman (Rico Oki)!
Next year more than half the employees of NASA's Goddard Space Flight
Center will be women and minorities. The rosters of most graduate
Atmospheric Science departments now are between 25 and 60 per cent
female. I only hope that our economy will have jobs for them. But
in any case, we can be assured that the women will have at least
an equal chance to get what jobs there are.
Joanne Simpson
nasajoanne@att.net
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