Showing posts with label Mary Alexandra Agner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary Alexandra Agner. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

The culture for women in math and the sciences

Perhaps the phrase "ordinary" women scientists is an oxymoron -- but it should not be.  Women should be free to populate the full range of aspiration and dedication to science or any other profession.   In this spirit, I offer below the opening lines of a thought-provoking poem, "Ordinary Women Scientists," by science writer and poet Mary Alexandra Agner, from the excellent and important anthology Raising Lilly Ledbetter:  Women Poets Occupy the Workspace.

     Here are links to several recent items about math-women:
Here is a report of a panel at Harvard discussing roles of women in mathematics. 
Here is a link to the Women in Maths Facebook page where visitors 
may post information and offer support for math women.
This link leads to my poem celebrating Emmy Noether.  Here we celebrate Caroline Herschel.
Here at mathblogging.org is a place to find all sorts of math-links.

     from    Ordinary Women Scientists          by Mary Alexandra Agner       
                                                                                      for R.C.
      leave the lab late, flasks washed and waiting,
      computer on an overnight crunch job,
      warm dinner in the microwave
      while wondering at excited water molecules,
      wave their kids goodnight, grateful    

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Statistics -- math to improve man's lot

Today's poem honors nurse and statistician Florence Nightingale (1820-1910) and is found in a fine poetry collection by Mary Alexandra Agner, The Scientific Method.

   After Math     by Mary Alexandra Agner

               Florence Nightingale, 1820-1910

   Worth one thousand words, usually,
   but thousands dead
   were inked as a colored nautilus
   with chambers counting corpses
   by disease or sword or bullet.
   Hold this shell to your ear;
   hear only your heartbeat's echo.
   Numbers never had such voice
   until Florence drew
   coxcomb wedges for the dead.