You say you want a revolution...

...well, you know, we all wanna change the world

Act I
A group of young(ish) female colleagues gathers in a pub on a Friday evening for a refreshing beverage or two. Grad students, postdocs, technicians, junior faculty, and grant writers are represented. Cue much character development and witty dialogue over the first drink.

--------------------------------------

You say you got a real solution...

well, you know, we'd all love to see the plan

Act II
The conversation turns to the leaky pipeline and the lack of women at the highest levels of academic science. General outrage is expressed; even those members of the group who have never knowingly suffered from gender-based discrimination in the workplace acknowledge that society in general, and therefore science as a subset of society, is inherently biased against women.

The tension ramps up as voices are raised and one lone, clear voice breaks through the babble to declare that we must act at the grass roots level, at the earliest stages of the pipeline; we must organise, we must fight the system, we must...

--------------------------------------

You tell me it's the institution...

...well, you know, you better free your mind instead

Act III
Another woman - a stranger to everyone in the first group - arrives at the next table, pushing a stroller containing a smiling, pudgy baby girl of unusual cuteness. The ranting revolutionaries dissolve into a chorus of "awwwwwwww!"s, and coo, smile and wave at the baby, before looking at each other and bursting into laughter.

--------------------------------------

So much for the revolution...

Please, don't anyone say "You tell me that it's evolution...". I think it was actually the beer. And anyway, I'd much rather hear "Don't you know it's gonna be, all right, all right, all right".

--------------------------------------

I wish that this little footnote was not necessary, but this is the internet, so here goes. I think (hope) that regular readers will recognise this post for what it is, which is to say, an amusing anecdote. I have no wish to enter into a flame war about how women should not be telling such stories because they are detrimental to the feminist cause. If your revolution precludes irony and self-deprecating humour, don't you know that you can count me out (in).