"The cold fabrics of night
cascade through skies
fantastic and grim.
A cloud cortege struts
above the ancient ruins."
 - Diane Ackerman

         Professor Kathryn Johnston's office in Van Vleck Observatory is a tiny but profoundly welcoming space. On one wall hangs a calendar printed with photographs of Tiffany stained glass windows. Several obviously well-fed potted plants cover the shelves, glowing green with health. A box of strawberry tea rests on the edge of the desk, ready to provide a soothing midday cup. Outwardly, there is little to suggest (besides the computer wedged between two windows, and the prominently placed copy of Carl Sagan's quintessential astronomical bestseller, "Cosmos") that Johnston is a scientist. Where are the to-scale models of the Starship Enterprise, the self-assembled portable telescope, the obligatory xeroxed "Far Side" cartoons tacked up on the door, or even, most importantly, the overflowing stacks of densely meticulous research reports, charts, and diagrams (not to mention full color glossies of theHorsehead Nebula)? The place lacks that classic, dark, crowded, latent geek/mad scientist aura. Professor Johnston's office is refreshingly natural, and, when flooded with late afternoon light, is entirely too luminous to be any sort of secret lair. Johnston herself, with her lilting British voice and accommodating, accessible manner, is a woman who immediately sets people at ease. She is one of the few professors to be interviewed by the Argus, attesting to her popularity among the student body, which is especially impressive considering that this is her first year teaching at Wesleyan. When I interviewed her in late March she was dressed comfortably - casual black pants, a quilted vest decorated with vaguely heart shaped buttons, and underneath this layer a subdued olive turtleneck - and was receptive to diverse lines of questioning. Despite my limited background in science, Professor Johnston was more than willing to proceed at a beginner's pace, clarifying complex issues and speaking at length about her personal experiences within her particular field (astrophysics) and at home.

         Kathryn Johnston grew up in Yorkshire, a small town situated in the north of England, just twenty miles south of the fading industrial municipality where The Full Monty was filmed. She first was drawn to astronomy early on - "I don't know why, but I was always interested in science, right from when I was eight or so. But in a very idealized way. Star Wars came out when I was seven - so I thought Star Wars was the best movie; [and] I loved Star Trek. That doesn't really have a lot to do with science and space, but... that kind of set the scene." Her initial naive fascination with the romantic side of science was augmented a few years later, when she read a book by Isaac Asimov, "The Collapsing Universe: The Story of Black Holes." This nonfiction text - an understandable bit of clear but impassioned science writing - proved to be the real foundation of her lasting interest in the stars. As she explains it, "It was a book for the 12- or 13-year-olds, and so he explained everything very much not in terms of equations but in terms of words. He was describing the evolution of a star, and what happens when a star runs out of fuel. Even though I was a teenager, [and] I didn't know any of the really detailed physics, Isaac Asimov explained it in such a way that I could imagine why things would happen. And I found that really fun. It was seeing space and these exotic objects and things that came up when I was a kid. I kind of went from that [silly TV/movies] to having this general interest in space, and then reading a book that made me think about physics and made me know that it's possible." The ability to visualize and identify with - sometimes even simulate or embody - scientific concepts has always been an essential factor in Professor Johnston's understanding and appreciation of scientific concepts. She is able to reduce complex processes to the level of basic interactions - "I always imagine I'm the star that's collapsing under the forces that are interacting on me. It's kind of trying to understand if this happens, what happens next - physically. I've always  enjoyed these kinds of [fundamental ideas] - it's cause and effect, right? So it's like taking something as simple as that and applying it to something as amazing as a star."

         Although Johnston's childhood was spent dreaming of being an astronaut, she became more realistic with age and experience - "It wasn't a dream I held on to. You do have to be somewhat dedicated to be a scientist, but I just thought that [becoming an astronaut] was too hard... so I instead pursued this idea of being a scientist." Her original notions of exotic space exploration developed into a pragmatic desire to understand the general scientific principles behind cosmic forces and reactions. She discovered a deeper thrill, one anchored in the splendid, violent, explosive dramas of the astral plane.

         From the age of seven to eighteen, Johnston attended an all girls boarding school. Because students in England specialize in one subject very early, Johnston was able to concentrate on mathematics throughout her high school career. Her school had a very healthy and stimulating atmosphere; since it was all female. "there was no pressures not to do science, no pressures not to do mathematics, in terms of social pressures, like, 'Oh well, you're not as beautiful if you only do math and science,' which I - as I understand it - is a message that lots of [young women] in high school [receive]."

         As an undergraduate, she majored in applied mathematics at Cambridge University. The flexibility of her major allowed her to take general courses in mechanics, general relativity, and cosmology, thus expanding her focus. Unfortunately, the University did not offer any undergraduate astronomy courses. Although she was supported by an attentive (male) advisor, she was intimidated by the intellectual atmosphere, and became gradually unsure of her scientific ability. "I went in there [to Cambridge] thinking 'Maybe I want to do a Ph.D. after this,' but when I arrived I looked at all my fellow students, and everyone else - my professors seem so far ahead. And I thought 'Whoa! Everybody's so intelligent; that was a stupid dream; I'm never going to be good enough to go on a do a Ph.D..' It's amazing to think I'm almost caught up now, but at the time it was like - it seem just too far ahead, and I couldn't imagine getting it." Her mind was changed over the summer before her senior year, when she had the opportunity to attend a six-week-long course in astronomy at the Institute of Astronomy in Cambridge. This experience allowed her to work intimately with graduate students in astronomy and actual astronomers, doing research in tandem. Johnston realized that there were not so many differences between these grad students and herself. While the Ivory Tower atmosphere of collegiate life had almost completely dissuaded her, this summer class convinced her that the tower was not real, that she could succeed in her chosen field of discipline. Johnston has seen many people become discouraged by math and science, which present an impenetrable front to the rest of the world. She believes that science is much more accessible than most people realize - "I think it's a question of getting that first step. If you found one part, one small part that you understood and made sense, and if you find that discovery exciting enough, then - [you can be a scientist]. That's what happened to me. It's not that I really understood everything, after reading the Isaac Asimov. It's just that I understood elements of it, and that excited me. It's more dedication and interest that takes you a long way. I'm not Einstein, I know there's a difference between me and Einstein, but I can still be a professor at a university and do research."

         After graduation, she worked on obtaining her graduate degree in astronomy at UC Santa Cruz. Once again, she received support (from another male advisor), but she began to be troubled by the place of women in the field. "I think is true is that it's tougher for women in science, but I don't think I had a tough time. But I want to be clear that that doesn't mean I don't think it's tough for women in science. I guess from when I was about a graduate student I started thinking about women in science and if it was a problem, and I was concerned about it but it hadn't affected me personally a lot. I tried to be supportive of other women, but I knew from myself that I was doing fine. In my graduate degree, 30% of the students were women. But when I went to do my post doc I moved institutions, and also you go further on in the field, suddenly I found there were no women at all. So when I arrived at the [new] situation, there were 12 post docs and no women. I went around to different institutions, giving talks. And I found that I was meeting very few women, either as post docs or as faculty members." While Johnston has never had any overtly negative experiences with gender politics, she believes that an uncomfortable dynamic can be created for women when they are the minority in an otherwise all male environment. Men and women think and interact differently with each other. While men may not be hostile, the unbalanced situation can create tensions, upset feelings, and conflicts, however inadvertent.