Tauseef Mushtaq
BIO
PhD candidate and researcher in telecommunication networks at Politecnico di Bari (Ital). Father of one daughter.
“Society doesn’t often expect, or support, men who choose to be deeply involved caregivers.”
I’m the father of a beautiful daughter, Meeram, and the husband of a woman whose strength humbles me every day. My wife completed her PhD during one of the most intense and transformative periods of our lives—while pregnant with our daughter.
Ours is a story of shared dreams, sleepless nights, shifting roles, and a commitment to doing things differently. And in many ways, it’s still unfolding.
When my wife found out she was pregnant, she was in the final year of her PhD—a stage filled with pressure, deadlines, and the immense emotional labor of research. She had conferences to attend, manuscripts to finish, and international travel to complete. We were both thrilled and terrified. We knew we had to move as a team—not just in theory, but in daily, intentional practice.
Caregiving didn’t begin when our daughter was born. It started the moment we found out we were expecting. I became more involved than I ever thought I would be—not because I was asked to, but because I felt compelled to show up in every way I could.
I packed suitcases for her academic trips, cooked our meals, massaged her back on the days she was too exhausted to sit up, and held space for her tears when things felt overwhelming. I didn’t view these acts as sacrifices—they were expressions of love, partnership, and respect for her work and her personhood.
When our daughter arrived, life changed completely—and beautifully. I changed diapers, calmed her during 3 a.m. feedings, ran errands while my wife revised papers, and became attuned to a rhythm of life that was no longer just mine. Caregiving became a part of my identity, not something I did occasionally, or as a “favor.” It was my responsibility—and my joy.
Yet the world around me didn’t always reflect that value. Society doesn’t often expect, or support, men who choose to be deeply involved caregivers. At times, I worried how my role would be perceived. Would I be seen as less committed to work? Would people assume I was “helping out” rather than sharing equally? Those moments of doubt were real. But so was the conviction that I was doing what mattered most.
I’ve learned that strength isn’t about having all the answers or holding everything together. It’s about showing up. It’s about folding laundry with a baby on your hip. It’s about listening instead of fixing. And yes, it’s about pushing back against outdated narratives of what fathers are “supposed to be.”
I want my daughter to grow up seeing caregiving as genderless. I want her to know that love shows up in presence, in daily care, and in the courage to challenge the status quo.
To all the fathers out there, especially in science: take the leave. Rock the baby to sleep. Say no to meetings that conflict with childcare. Speak up when policies don’t support caregiving. Support your partner—not just with words, but with action. That’s not weakness. That’s leadership.
And to institutions: we need a culture that supports parenting as a shared human responsibility—not one that assumes caregiving is synonymous with motherhood. Equitable parental leave, affordable childcare, flexibility in training pathways—these are not perks. They’re the foundation of a just academic system.
My journey as a father has made me a better human. A better partner. And yes, a better scientist. Because science doesn’t just happen in the lab—it’s shaped by who we are, and who we’re becoming.
Let’s make room for that story too.