Author: Deb

I didn’t get the job

A recruitment story If the revelations of the secret lives and decisions of moralising politicians revealed anything in the last weeks, it’s that nothing much stays backstage in Canberra – whether it be paramours or au pairs. Backstage, a lovely

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8 word story

After submission I felt light, light like hungry.    

Confession of the deliberately barren

I watch a young parent labour a double pram uphill. A toddler on the left and a baby on the right. Ecstasy wells up. I get rivulets of joy gushing from my toes up my calves and thighs and a

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There is no Plan(et) B(eauty)

In 2010, I accompanied about 15 of my Manila-based labmates to a large regional conference addressing the proximate and serious issues facing the most diverse coral reef systems in the world. For once, the rooms were not overloaded with white, male

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Writing and the art of ignorance

I sit here, unwritten, so many years later, despite all my training, therapy and diversified skill set. Despite having gone to the professional development seminars, and sharpening my saw. Despite having published early and often, it has now been longer

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Peer review

Compared to the abuse suffered by the women I follow on Twitter it is insignificant when my work is described as weak. Lacking Scientific Method. I still shed tears onto white, 50% recycled paper marked with three sets of track

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My Space

The old, white man rang my mobile about ten minutes before my PhD exit seminar began. Unbeknownst to the caller, I had removed all men, including him, from my panel many years before, in an obscure form-ridden process that appeared

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Not Tetris

This is pretty much how my PhD fieldwork was for me. Wonky, beautiful, unexpectedly difficult. (music by Fossil Rabbit, Not Tetris created by StabYourself, featuring Zoe Konovalov)

Choices, an elimination game

Someone wrote to me today that they hoped I had done what I did as a choice and not a sacrifice. I hesitated a lot before answering, partially (mostly?) because I was attempting to obey the Rotary rule of ‘kind, true, necessary’

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Mother’s father

My grandfather was a surgeon, and married a nurse. For the entirety of his working and marital life he had good women to do his bidding. It was never clear whether he really considered what they thought, what they wanted, or

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