Shuja Ansari
BIO
Lecturer of autonomous systems and connectivity at University of Glasgow (UK). Father of one.
”Being vocal about your caregiving role can empower others to do the same, gradually shifting institutional norms.”
Becoming a father while navigating a demanding academic and research career in STEMM has been one of the most defining, humbling, and enriching experiences of my life. As a lecturer in Autonomous Systems and Connectivity at the University of Glasgow, my work often involves long hours in the lab, continuous proposal submissions, collaborative projects with industry, and mentoring students. These are intense responsibilities—yet none have tested and taught me as much as fatherhood has.
I became a father at a pivotal moment in my career. Our research group had just secured several grants, and I was leading new innovation projects. The expectations were high—both from my institution and myself. At the same time, my daughter was born. Suddenly, I found myself balancing not just equations and deadlines, but also nappy changes, sleepless nights, and the emotional responsibility of being fully present for another life.
One of the biggest challenges was the unspoken culture of “always-on” availability in STEMM. There’s an ingrained notion that productivity is synonymous with presence—physical or digital. Initially, I feared being seen as less committed if I stepped back to prioritise caregiving, even momentarily. I attended virtual meetings from hospital corridors, responded to emails while feeding my daughter, and quietly rearranged my academic commitments to accommodate family life—all without openly talking about it.
Over time, I realised this silence was part of the problem. We, as fathers in STEMM, rarely articulate the complexities of caregiving. Yet, it is in acknowledging these realities that change begins. I started having more open conversations with colleagues—many of whom were quietly managing similar responsibilities. I also learned to set clearer boundaries. I began blocking time for school drop-offs, adjusting travel schedules, and planning research sprints around family needs. Surprisingly, rather than seeing this as a limitation, my team appreciated the clarity. It built mutual respect and a more empathetic work culture.
Support came in subtle yet powerful ways. My wife, a pillar of resilience, not only managed her own professional journey but also encouraged me to fully embrace fatherhood without guilt. Within the university, allies emerged—colleagues who offered flexibility, mentorship, and practical support.
However, I also became acutely aware of what was missing: formal structures that acknowledge fatherhood in the same way maternity or primary caregiving roles are often accommodated. Paternity leave, flexible working hours, and caregiving policies need to evolve—not just in availability but in their cultural acceptability.
This journey has taught me several lessons. First, caregiving is not a detour from career progression; it is a path that deepens your humanity and makes you a better leader. Second, presence—whether in research or in parenting—is not just about time, but about intention. Lastly, being vocal about your caregiving role can empower others to do the same, gradually shifting institutional norms.
There are trade-offs, of course. I’ve declined invitations to international events, missed networking dinners, and occasionally felt like I was sprinting in both worlds. But the gains are immeasurable. I’ve experienced the joy of my daughter’s first words and first steps, and I’ve built a more inclusive perspective into my teaching and research.
To fellow caregivers in STEMM: don’t wait for perfect conditions to step into your caregiving role—they may never arrive. Instead, normalise the conversation. Advocate for yourself and for others. Seek allies. And remember that caregiving, in any form, is not a weakness—it is a strength that enriches our work and our society.
We need more fathers who care—not just in our homes, but in our labs, lecture halls, and boardrooms. Let us lead by example.