by Ambika Mathur*

November 13, 2022

Since 2019, I have been the Vice Provost for Graduate Studies and Dean of the Graduate School at the University of Texas, San Antonio. We offer 67 master’s and 25 doctoral degree programs, along with 31 graduate certificate programs, to more than 4,200 full-time and part-time students across seven colleges.

Decades ago, when I first embarked on a career in academia, I never thought that I would leave a tenured faculty position in research and teaching, the two biggest passions of my professional life, and move to what some on the faculty perceive as the dark side, an administrative job.

Growing up in India, since high school I viewed myself as pursuing a career in cancer research. In 1978, I earned a Bachelor of Science in Chemistry from Wilson College, Mumbai University, and in 1980, a Master of Science in Biochemistry from Mumbai University. I then started on a Ph.D. at the Cancer Research Center at the Tata Memorial Hospital in Mumbai.

In 1982, seeking better opportunities, I moved to the United States as a Ph.D. student, with the goal of becoming the best possible cancer researcher. Four years later, I earned a Ph.D. in Microbiology and Immunology from the University of Iowa, where I also completed three years of post-doctoral training.

During a weekend in 1986, I married Deepak Kamat, followed by a honeymoon in the laboratory. Deepak, a cancer immunology physician-scientist, also from India, was conducting research in the same lab as me, as part of his training.

In 1990, after my post-doctoral work, I landed a job as a tenure-track assistant professor, with the requisite extramural funding, in the Departments of Oral Science and Pediatrics at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis Academic Health Sciences Center.

It was during this time in the professoriate that I found myself pregnant with twins who decided they wanted to enter the world early in January 1991. Of course, I could handle a couple of preemies as well as a lab full of graduate students and post-doctoral fellows, plus classes to teach! With the tenure clock ticking, I summoned my inner superwoman and worked tirelessly as both a mother and faculty member. Sleep is vastly overrated anyway!

But while my babies were growing up, being cared for by nannies while I was at work, doubts emerged as the pulls of motherhood competed with my work. I faced conflicting worries: Was I missing out on valuable professional opportunities? Was I spending enough time with my twins, daughter Aarti Kamat and, her older-by- a-minute brother, Amol Kamat?

I spoke with several female colleagues and mentors who had apparently successfully juggled a career with parenthood. They warned that an interruption in my career would mean the end of my academic life.

“You've got to be f%*@ing stupid!!!” “This is academic career suicide!” “People will believe you didn't get tenure!” “You want to be a housewife!” These were some of the more charitable comments I received from them.

I also spoke to women who took time off to be with their children. These women, who were happy being on the “Mommy” track, advised me that the time with my kids was fleeting, and a job would still be there when they were grown.

I spent months anguished over which path I should choose.

One day in 1996, as my tenure decision was approaching, I went to watch my kids' soccer game. But I sat on a bench, analyzing valuable data on my laptop from our work on the mechanisms of cancer cell regulations - ignoring the shouts from the kids and parents around me. When I looked up from my laptop the game was over - my kids had each scored a goal, but I had missed it all.

Aarti and Amol rushed over demanding to know what I thought about their goal-scoring prowess. I lied, telling them I had watched every moment of their amazing achievements.

I realized then that, in my attempt to be a superwoman, I was shortchanging my kids and my own “mommy” experiences. That day, I decided to leave my tenure track job to raise my twins, who were then five years old. It was a difficult choice, and I am not saying that balancing work and family is impossible. But it was the right call for me.

A few weeks later, I learned that I was promoted to a tenured associate professor. I placed all my trainees in other labs and then dropped the bomb. Some of my colleagues felt betrayed, others were outraged, and many were disappointed that I was choosing to be “barefoot in the kitchen” and was “wasting my potential.” Most tried to convince me to change my mind. But over the next seven years, the smiles on my twins' faces totally validated my decision.

I also found other ways to be challenged intellectually. For instance, while at home taking care of the twins, I wrote a series of seven Miss Panda books, illustrated by K. Michael Crawford, to teach children about cultures around the world. Titles included Miss Panda in India, Miss Panda in France, Miss Panda in China and Miss Panda in Japan.

Then in 2002, once the kids were grown and in middle school from 9 am to 3 pm, I was eager to inch back into academia. And this was just as we moved from Minneapolis to Morgantown, West Virginia.

While I was ready, the academic world was not! I was no longer considered suitable for tenured faculty positions or running an independent research program. The best I could do was to get an adjunct part-time faculty position at West Virginia University School of Medicine.

A year later, we moved to Northville, in suburban Detroit. Deepak took on the post of a Professor of Pediatrics and Vice Chair of Education at the Wayne State University School of Medicine and the Children’s Hospital of Michigan, in Detroit. I also found work at the school as a Professor of Pediatrics, but again only in an adjunct, part-time capacity.

It was exhilarating to be back doing research and teaching. Yet it was also frustrating since I could sense that some of my new colleagues doubted my renewed interest.

Luckily, I also found outstanding mentors and an incredible network of colleagues who urged me to accept the challenges and keep pushing through. So, I sought to work my way back up the rungs of academia.

In 2004, I found I had – ironically - breast cancer. The grueling treatments lasted a year, after which the cancer has fortunately been in remission.

I went back to work. In 2005, as a full-time employee, I started the joint M.D./Ph.D. program at Wayne State for physician-scientists, serving as its director for ten years. I soon realized that by switching to an administrative role I was also making an impact. I found it rewarding to search and attract talented young trainees and help them advance their passion for scientific research, especially those seeking to improve life and society.

In 2009, I agreed to take on more administrative responsibilities as an Associate Dean of Wayne State. I was also made a full professor, though without any formal teaching responsibilities.

Four years later, I was appointed Vice Provost and Dean of the Graduate School at Wayne State, overseeing all master’s and doctoral programs, including in medicine, engineering, law, pharmacy, nursing, sciences, education, arts, and public health, with more than 6,000 full-time and part-time graduate students. Six years later, I took on the same roles at the University of Texas, San Antonio.

Amol completed his undergraduate degree at the California Institute of Technology and Aarti at Dartmouth. In 2017, they both graduated from medical school. I can say, yes, as a biased though proud parent, that my twins are grounded and caring adults. Aarti is now a pediatric hematology/oncology fellow and Amol is a Lieutenant Commander working as a surgeon in the U.S. Navy.

In November 2021, Amol and his wife Dr. Katherine Kasper gifted us with Tulsi, our first grandchild. She is the joy of our lives.

My family and I have had a good life. As a small way of giving back to society, in February this year, Deepak and I donated $20,000 to the Pre-freshman Engineering Program. It is a summer program at the University of Texas, San Antonio, which seeks to increase college enrollment of underrepresented middle and high school students in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.

Looking back, my personal and professional experience taught me that you cannot be everything to everyone. Also, an individual’s career can have second, third, and fourth acts. It is not about gender, your age or race; it is about your confidence and a positive can-do attitude. And finally, I realize it is important to remember that success comes in many flavors: what works for others may not work for me and what works for me may not work for others.  

 (Some parts of this story were previously published in a 2017 story I wrote for Science.)

*Ambika Mathur is a Distinguished Professor, Vice Provost for Graduate Studies and Dean of the Graduate School at the University of Texas, San Antonio. She earned a Ph.D. in Microbiology and Immunology from the University of Iowa. She has authored or co-authored more than 150 research papers. Mathur is the author of Transplant, 2016, a medical thriller which weaves a story of cultural transplant and qestionable practices in organ transplant  

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