100 Years of Women PhDs continued: Yulia Maximenko

Yulia Maximenko is a professor at Colorado State University. In her research, she studies many-body quantum effects and seeks novel electromagnetic properties having applications in device engineering.

If I must characterize myself in a few words—which, don’t get me wrong, is terribly hard—the words would be physicist, educator, explorer, creator, and humanist. I strongly believe in human rights and equitable access to education, I love adventures and concocting scientific and artistic creations, I am passionate about mentoring students, and I aspire to become a great teacher. But first and foremost, I am a physicist. It could easily be considered a sort of acquired neurodivergence. My life partner, a musician, showed me the extent of how weird we physicists are. In casual conversations, I constantly subject them to words like interactions, suboptimal, phase space, potential barrier, local minimum, and oh so many more, and to them it’s like I’m speaking in tongues. It is absolutely a lens through which I see the world: I think in terms of interdependent variables, dimensionality, symmetry, and modeling, while visualizing 3D movies in my head. Without a doubt, I thoroughly enjoy being a physicist. (But before you get too excited, be ready to spend about 20 years in “school” to get there.)

My path to experimental physics, sadly, didn’t involve exploding chemicals or flying rockets or any other favorite hands-on activities of middle-schoolers. I grew up in Russia, where you have to take a test in math—and chess, and ice skating, and ballet—before they even cut your umbilical cord. (Luckily, heavy drinking wasn’t one of the requirements.) So, I came to science by way of abstract math and logic rather than tinkering. I had a resolute father who pushed me to pursue intellectual challenges, excel in school so I could skip out on house chores, and, for good measure, run and ski long and boring trails in the woods. Even though Russia was and still is a lot more traditional in its gender roles and expectations, some local stereotypes benefited me: “girls are hardworking and responsible,” “being smart is cool,” “being good at math and physics will guarantee you a job,” etc. Before I got any silly notions about what girls must and must not do, I already knew that I enjoyed math, and no one could convince me otherwise.

Physics, on the other hand, was a different story. It didn’t make any sense to me when I first encountered it at the age of 11–12, and yes, that’s how early students start physics in Russia. What turned it around was one very special person, Lyudmila Pravdina—the best physics teacher the world has ever seen! She was so excellent and inspiring that physics suddenly clicked and became my lifelong passion. By then I knew enough of the world to see that women aren’t particularly welcome in science, but I was stubborn enough to continue down that path no matter what. I am not usually plagued by impostor syndrome, possibly because my expectations were so low that the only outcome was defying them. I do not recommend the hungry-’90s Russian pessimism as a life philosophy, but I do believe that overcoming reasonable challenges while having a solid support structure is the path to growth, adulthood, and independence, as a scientist and as a person.

After high school and college, I came to the US for a Ph.D., and after a postdoc landed a faculty position, which is a traditional track. As a woman in physics, I’ve had my share of suboptimal experiences, ranging from insinuations to blatant harassment. In Russia, I existed in a constant ready-to-fight mode, but I was propelled by my ambition and desire to prove to the world that women can be good physicists. The US is a cut above Russia in terms of gender equality, but systemic sexism still exists in all spheres, and sustained effort is needed for improvement.¹ It’s easier to persevere with some grit and resolve, a healthy degree of arrogance, and a knack for finding supportive mentors who will teach you and root for you. I was lucky enough to have all of the above.

Having said that, my strong belief is that these specific traits should not be a necessary condition—the last mathy reference, promise—to succeed in science. Precisely because of my struggles, I am trying to make the physics world better for future generations, to the best of my ability: all personalities and backgrounds belong and are invaluable! Here’s the conspiracy: I try to meet more women, gender/ethnic minorities, and allies at all stages of science careers and facilitate mutually supportive networking—all in hopes of subverting toxic authorities and abandoning inequitable practices. So, shoot me a message if you are in!

So, in August 2023, I became an independent group leader in the field of quantum 2D materials and tunneling microscopy. This was not the end goal, but rather another step in the process of doing something meaningful and gratifying. Sure, there are challenges and responsibilities, but also lots of excitement, freedom, rewarding mentoring, learning, growth, and building new connections. The setbacks and frustrations along the way seem worth it now, but you can also minimize their effect on you. Before we fix the world, that is.

If I were to give a recipe on how to convert a passion for science into academic success, it would be this:

1. Nurture your passion in whatever way works for you, whether it’s reading books, talking to other scientists, mentoring, or working on specific topics.
2. Prioritize your health, sleep, and exercise! Being healthy is a privilege, and it is much harder to function as a scientist without it.
3. Find the right environment where you feel valued and can grow and thrive. Leave toxic places as soon as you can. They are not worth your time and effort.
4. Find allies, mentors, and supporters wherever you go; keep growing that professional network and don’t be shy about asking for help and advice.
5. Value your personal connections and rely on people close to you for support.

Sounds easy, right? In the end, as sad as it is, there is a lot of luck involved in becoming successful in any field, no matter what history textbooks and news tell us. The most successful humans are unique in one and only one way: they got lucky[1]. However, your own belief in your success is a better predictor of excellence than privilege or talent[2]. You can use these facts to your advantage by proactively seeking opportunities and taking chances and by building a support network that helps you believe in yourself. And it never hurts to take more naps!

Footnote:
1 If you are interested in rigorous data and statistics on the subject, I strongly recommend reading Invisible Women by C. Criado Perez.

References:
[1] Pluchino, A., Biondo, A.E., Rapisarda, A.: Talent versus luck: the role of randomness in success and failure. Adv. Complex Syst. 21(03N04), 1–31 (2018).
[2] Escobar, M., Majewski, H.M., Qazi, M., Rawajfih, Y.: Self-efficacy in STEM. International Encyclopedia of Education (Fourth Edition), Elsevier, 388-394, (2023).

This profile is part of our “100 Years of Women in Physics” project. Read more about the project here.