Bio-diversity

“I think we need to take advantage of what makes us who we are,” says Daniel Nidzgorski, a graduate student in the Department of Ecology, Evolution and Behavior whose research focuses on nutrient cycling in human-dominated landscapes.

That may sound obvious. After all, we all look for ways to distinguish ourselves on school applications or résumés. But what if the things that make you stand out also set you apart? That’s the fine line many gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender (GLBT) students walk every day. Nidzgorski has walked that line – and crossed it – by speaking out about his overlapping identities as a student, a scientist and a gay man.

“Downplaying minority status is common in science,” says Nidzgorski who received the U of M’s Breaking the Silence Award this past spring. “But while that idea of non-bias is great, it’s still a long way from reality.” The award recognizes people and organizations that improve campus climate by confronting discrimination and barriers based on gender and sexuality. In Nidzgorski’s case, the award recognizes his efforts to draw attention to assumptions built into the institution and the sciences.

“Then there are the discussions he’s helped to facilitate – about queerness in particular and broader understandings of diversity in general – within his own department, within the College of Biological Sciences, and with others from departments across the St. Paul campus.”

“Daniel has pushed the Twin Cities campus – and the wider community – to address how queerness and science are connected in a number of different ways,” says Anne Phibbs, director of education for the Office of Equity and Diversity. “I have been so impressed to watch Daniel, over and over again, use himself as an example of how one’s GLBTQ identity does matter when one is studying and ‘doing’ science.”   

This is particularly true in the biological sciences since the subject matter itself raises so many issues. “You can get this crazy fishbowl effect especially in biology where you can’t get away from gender, evolution, sex and mating,” says Nidzgorski. “As an openly gay student, I’m in a fishbowl.” The problem is compounded by the difficulty in finding openly gay mentors among faculty.

“When looking at faculty who, for all you can tell, may as well be straight, it can make you wonder if you are in the wrong field. That invisibility can be really tricky,” says Nidzgorski. “Finding mentors who have navigated the personal aspects and not just the discipline-specific challenges is hard.”

Nidzgorski launched MN Queer Science last year with an eye to connecting GLBT faculty and students in the sciences. The group has initiated a number of outreach efforts including mentoring for undergraduates in the sciences.

Nidzgorski and the members of MN Queer Science are working to break through that isolation and, in the process, foster greater collaboration. “Professional networks are really important for taking science in new directions,” he says. “I have a group of colleagues in other departments that I found through being gay, and my collaborations show it. Because my network of science colleagues is broad it leads to unique collaborations.” Case in point, Nidzgorski is currently working on a research project with a nanochemistry graduate student he met through MN Queer Sceince.

“Each of us has strengths and talents,” says Nidzgorski. “Instead of trying to show people that being gay hasn’t hurt my science I’m showing people how it’s helped my science.”

– Stephanie Xenos