Aptitude Aplenty

Vassar rescued her. It was a women's college at that time, and Rubin found an atmosphere that encouraged women to pursue what interested them. She went on to a brilliant career. Rubin, who has been at Carnegie for 40 years, confirmed the existence of dark matter in the universe, was elected to the National Academy of Sciences and received the National Medal of Science. She also married and had four children, including a daughter who is an astronomer.

When she was working on her PhD, Rubin says, she and her husband would put their children to bed, and she would work from 7 p.m. to 2 a.m., getting up with the children in the morning. She has one tip in particular for aspiring woman scientists: Marry the right man, one who understands the importance of your career.

By the time she started judging the Intel competition, and saw girls like Abby and Sherri coming along, she thought the path had been cleared, and girls could go wherever they wanted in the world of science and math. Then came Summers, whose remarks dismayed and infuriated her.

"I think I've really been wrong on this," she says. "I really thought things were getting better. The fact that my generation could do it -- we thought it would change for others."

Though more and more women are getting doctorates, she says, they are not getting the academic jobs they deserve. "It's still possible to get a PhD never having studied under a woman," Rubin says. "Women don't have role models." In 2001, according to the National Science Foundation, 6,867 women received doctorates in science and engineering, compared with 9,395 men. That same year, there were only 9,490 women who were full professors in college science and engineering departments, compared with 60,470 men.

These are the numbers that Saavik Ford, one of Abby's mentors, fears. The blatant discrimination of 30 years ago has disappeared, says Ford, who is 27, and her own postdoctoral appointment at Carnegie testifies to this.

Ford is pursuing an academic research career along a path that Abby might one day tread as well. First there's the PhD, then a series of short-term, postdoctoral appointments of two or three years. "Typically, you spend five to 10 years leading a nomadic life, moving from short-term appointment to short-term appointment," Ford says, building toward a tenure-track job. But there aren't enough tenure-track science jobs out there, so two out of three of today's postdocs will have to go elsewhere, she says. "They won't end up sleeping on the street in a cardboard box," she says, but taking jobs in industry, government or policymaking. Others will teach high school.

Even when women reach the point of being considered for a tenure-track job, Ford says, it's difficult to break through that final barrier. Most hiring is done by white male faculty members, who got there first and are still running things. "They're interviewing six to eight people, deciding if they want to spend 30 years with one of these people," she says. "You feel comfortable around the people who are like you. You choose a man."

And if a woman in academia marries a man in academia, as Ford has, she's really asking for trouble. Trying to get post-doctoral appointments and tenure-track jobs in the same cities can be nearly impossible. More often than not, it's the woman who ends up leaving the field. Which is just what Ford is doing. Her astronomer husband, better positioned for a tenure-track opportunity because he is a little farther along in the pipeline than she is, has an offer in North Carolina. They're packing up and moving on. Ford is giving up her dreams of becoming a tenured professor. Perhaps, she says, she can get into science writing.

Some teachers in Blair's science and math magnet say that girls and boys behave differently in class. Adolescent boys call out answers, not caring whether they're right or wrong. Though Abby says she feels no reluctance to raise her hand in class, many of her female classmates are quieter, her teachers say, waiting until they're sure they're right. More girls wait to ask questions after class. But when it comes time for a test, the girls at Blair score as well as the boys.

Speaking up -- Elizabeth Mann still wrestles with that. She graduated from the Blair magnet program in 1993. Like Abby and Sherri, she was a finalist in what was then called the Westinghouse science contest. She went to Harvard, got her doctorate at Oxford and now is at MIT, about to begin the final year of a three-year post-doctoral appointment. She's teaching multi-variable calculus and a version of theoretical calculus, not bad for someone who never liked to speak up.

Her teachers at Blair remember Mann as a brilliant student. She remembers herself as hesitant. She used to think her reticence didn't matter. It didn't keep her from soaring right to the top on tests. Now, as a teacher herself, she sees it differently.