Share Your Story: #LeadtheChange in STEM

Behind every STEM journey, there are stories we don’t always hear.

Your story is powerful. Your voice is needed.

Gender-based violence (GBV) still happens in STEM, in labs, classrooms, conferences, and boardrooms. We want to understand where, how, and when it happens, so together we can create safer environments for everyone in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.

Your story can help shape what comes next.

We’re collecting real experiences of gender-based violence (GBV) in STEM to spotlight where, how, and when GBV happens, and how institutions can take meaningful action.

• Open to all identities and career levels
• Safe, confidential submission form
• No identifying details required
• Stories will inform systems-level recommendations

Your story matters. Your experience can spark change. Your story can help shape what comes next.

Share Your Story

Before you submit your story, please take a moment to review the #WhatsNext Story & Pledge Consent Form.

Stories Shared With Us

My research is interesting because I wear lipstick

During my time as a PhD student I continually heard comments for another member in the group which stated that I only won a poster prize and people only came to talk to me because I wear make up. My posters weren’t interesting, it was just how I looked. This really influenced how I presented myself at conferences for a long time.

Networking Gone Wrong

I was a graduate student at a major Canadian conference for my STEM field. While at a networking social, I saw a researcher who was a former professor of the university I was studying at & now he was working for the government agency that I really wanted to work at. I decided to strike up conversation with him, asking him about one of his current students that I went to undergrad school with to make conversation. He said “if you’re so interested in him, why don’t you go out with him”. I was so uncomfortable, I walked without another word.

Checking that box

It was early in my career – my first permanent position after grad school. I was working for a very small non-profit organization which had just me and my boss as full time staff. One day, we were heading to a high-level policy meeting with several other organizations. My boss stated that it was important for me to be there because I was young and no one wanted to look at “the old guy in the room” (aka him). I thought this was an odd statement but didn’t respond. The next time he mentioned that I should attend a meeting because I was a young woman I responded with: “I thought it was because I have a Masters Degree and have worked hard for this organization so I can contribute to the conversation”. He laughed nervously and said, “you know what I mean”. Finally, there was a photo opp at one of our events. My boss told me to stand in the photo because I was prettier to look at than him. I went home that night and began looking for another job. I had spent over 3 years at that organization working tirelessly for a cause I believed in. It broke my heart that the people I worked for didn’t have the same respect or belief in my abilities beyond what I looked like. It took me a few months to find a new job – outside of the industry I had worked so passionately to be part of.

Harassment in the Lab

Throughout my PhD, I faced a pattern of obsessive behaviour from a male colleague that left me feeling unsafe, monitored, and responsible for managing his emotions. This behaviour escalated over the years, and despite repeatedly reporting it, I was left to navigate the situation largely on my own. The hostile behaviour began early in my program. This colleague became intensely attached to me almost immediately. He wrote me personal letters, initiated emotionally charged one-on-one conversations, and inserted himself into my daily routines in ways that felt intrusive rather than collegial. Very quickly, a destabilizing three-phase cycle emerged; calculated withdrawal, explosive anger, and then remorse to reset the dynamic. Phase 1 was the silent treatment. He would withdraw, avoid eye contact, and behave as though I had wronged him. The tension he created was obvious to me and others in the lab. I dreaded entering the lab, unsure of what I had supposedly done wrong this time. Phase 2 was anger. He would corner me during experiments or in shared spaces and talk “at” me for long stretches, sometimes for hours, accusing me of excluding him, mistreating him, or violating expectations he asserted I owed him. These outbursts happened everywhere: at the bench, in hallways, even during conference poster sessions while I was presenting my research. His anger was unpredictable, overwhelming, and impossible to escape without abandoning my work. Phase 3 was self-recriminations. After the anger came intense crying, apologies, expressions of guilt, and promises that it would never happen again. On some occasions, he attempted to touch me or grab my hand. This cycle repeated roughly every three months, to the point where I could anticipate when the next shift in his behaviour was coming. What triggered these episodes were normal professional interactions: inviting other lab members to join a social outing that he expected to be one-on-one, asking another colleague (instead of him) to borrow equipment, or working all day at my lab bench rather than at my desk next to him. He monitored where I sat, where I walked, who I talked to, and how I organized my day. If I didn’t sit beside him, he would ask whether I was avoiding him. If I talked to someone else at a departmental event, he would later interrogate me, insisting that I should have been talking to him instead. One time, he saw me walking to lunch with my new partner without me realizing. When I returned, he pressed me to explain where I had gone, acting as though he hadn’t seen me. When I told him, he cried and asked why I hadn’t told him earlier. Trying to establish boundaries only escalated things. When I stated directly that I wanted a strictly professional relationship, he became hostile and told me that was “so f-ing rude”. Over time, his behaviour affected my ability to work safely and effectively. There were days I couldn’t complete experiments because he stood beside me for hours, lecturing or scolding me. I rearranged my schedule, avoided certain rooms, and constantly monitored his mood so I could get through the day. The lab environment no longer felt like a place for learning. I reported his behaviour multiple times to the administrator responsible for supporting graduate students in my program. Other lab mates who had witnessed his behaviour had also reported it on my behalf. Each time, I explained that the situation made me uncomfortable, anxious, and increasingly unsafe. I asked for help in establishing boundaries. I was told that the issue would be addressed, but I later learned the conversations with him were vague and framed as general reminders to “give people space”, and to “take care of yourself” rather than direct interventions. Eventually, during my last year, I was encouraged to consult various campus offices that handle conflict and student safety. Over the next several months, I retold the same story over and over again. The initial reactions were sympathetic and shocked. But over time, the guidance converged on the recommendation to confront him again, this time through a “neutral, facilitated conversation” in a “safe space”. The same office told me that if I wanted to graduate with “grace, dignity, and a good reference letter”, I should follow their recommended approach. It was difficult to hear that my safety, boundaries, and even my academic future were being weighed against how “gracefully” I maintained the peace. I had already confronted him multiple times. Redoing the cycle in a different room did not address the core issue, and the burden still fell entirely on me. After I had endured his emotional volatility for years, a staggered work schedule was finally put in place so our hours would not overlap. On paper, it was meant to give me space. In practice, he simply went home to write his thesis, and when he eventually returned to the lab, I was told it was now my turn to “wrap up” and leave the lab to write mine. I defended my PhD successfully, but I still haven’t been able to finish my remaining manuscript because he was kept as an employee in the lab after he graduated. I cannot safely or comfortably work in the lab with him still there, so another lab member is doing the revisions in my place.

Male Domination

It happend in IT industry when i was transferred from India to canada. the person who i replaced moved to client side and he kept telling me that i am lucky and i moved to this role without any struggle because he was helping me. But he never realised the fact that i owned more tasks and more migration activities which he did not. He stated openly in a chat that my behaviour was bad and assassinated my character saying that i am not saying thank you if he helps me in a task.He was on the product side and for migration product team co ordination is expected by client managers. which left me speechless why i should thank him everytime for doing his job. he also added that he is doing that task because he felt like i am struggling and out of pity only he is doing. i stopped talking with him after this conversation. i was a very bad people pleaser until then. i was unable to cope up from this for a very long time. since i was involved in major migration i don’t want to move out of that project after completing the migration i decided to quit because even in professional meetings he kept saying something that insults me. i am the first women in my family to work in corporate and he shattered all my confidence and the pride i carried in few weeks. i felt devastated even though i was doing my best at work. i resigned and joined a new organisation to avoid such scenarios.

Slack and Gender Based Exclusion

“At my school, our lab uses slack (a software for chatting and keeping connected). One day, I learned about a group that someone in my cohort had made to share notes and ask questions. I was wondering why my (female) friend and I hadn’t heard about it, and it turns out, the person who made it, only added the men in our cohort to the group. It’s like they wanted to get ahead and excluded us just cause we were women. We asked to be added, but they didn’t want us to join. Our school didn’t do anything about it at the time when we brought it up. It made us feel really excluded when all we wanted was to have the same advantage as the rest of the cohort.”

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