Looking up from a courtyard at the College of New Jersey in Ewing, passers-by can see a rainbow pride flag in the window of chemist Benny Chan. He has not always been so open. Chan came out as gay to just a few people in graduate school, and although he did not hide his sexual orientation once he started working at the College of New Jersey, he decided not to be vocal about it until he met the requirements for tenure. His past advisers and the administration at his new job were supportive, he says, but “there's always that little bit of doubt in my head” — one uncomfortable or discriminatory colleague could cause problems.

Scientists do not always share their personal sides in the lab. Deciding whether to be open about one's identity can be an acute issue for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) researchers. Unlike some other minorities, LGBT people “have the ability to conform, because it's not always a visible trait”, Chan says. But hiding something as basic as sexual orientation or gender identity can be detrimental to mental health and work. “You need to spend a lot of extra energy if you feel like you need to hide a part of your life,” says Chan.

Credit: OIVIND HOVLAND/IKON IMAGES/CORBIS

Researchers may have trouble finding colleagues who share their experiences — which can be anything from overt or subtle discrimination to complete comfort in the workplace. Many want to know how best to support younger LGBT scientists, who might not know where to turn for mentoring.

As broader awareness of LGBT scientists grows and more of the science community starts to appreciate the issues that affect them — including same-sex marriage and anti-discrimination laws — groups are convening to foster a sense of community and, in some cases, to develop best-practice guidelines. These organizations aim to ensure that LGBT researchers get the support they need so that isolation does not keep them from being effective scientists.

Gathering data

There is a growing body of research on women and ethnic minorities in science, but the number and experience of LGBT researchers has been less widely studied. To address this, Jeremy Yoder, an evolutionary-biology postdoc at the University of Minnesota, Twin Cities, and Allison Mattheis, an educational researcher at California State University, Los Angeles, gathered more than 1,400 responses to the 'Queer in STEM' survey, which examined sexual diversity among people working in science, technology, engineering and maths (STEM) and how their identities might affect their careers. Most were from the United States, but there were also responses from Canada, the United Kingdom and India, among other countries.

Preliminary results suggest that participants who rated their workplaces as safe and welcoming and whose employers supported LGBT-specific needs — such as health-care benefits for same-sex partners in the United States — were more likely to be open with their colleagues about their identities. However, Yoder and Mattheis found that where respondents lived made no difference to how 'out' they were to colleagues or students, even if the researchers were in big cities or in regions thought to be LGBT-friendly.

Yoder and Mattheis hope that their survey results, which they are in the process of writing up for submission, will make other scientists more aware of and welcoming to LGBT researchers. The pair contend that when heterosexual researchers know about their colleagues' identities, they are more likely to support policies such as partner benefits and expanding equal-opportunity employment to cover sexual orientation and gender identity. And the authors expect that more information about the community will encourage LGBT people to enter STEM. “By making queer folk working in STEM more visible, we can help prompt STEM workplaces, professional societies and university departments to take LGBT-specific needs into consideration in policy,” Yoder says.

Creating safe spaces

LGBT researchers can turn to a growing number of support and networking groups (see 'Safe meeting spaces'). Some groups are working on best-practice guidelines to help academic departments to deal better with LGBT issues. Elena Long, a postdoc in nuclear physics at the University of New Hampshire in Durham who started the LGBT+ Physicists group in 2009, has worked with colleagues to create a guide for physics departments.

These guidelines range from changes that can be made quickly — such as using gender-neutral language in the classroom and lab or inviting LGBT speakers to campus — to those that require long-term, department-wide efforts, such as adding non-discrimination statements to job announcements and making diversity training available to faculty members and staff.

Many institutions offer on-campus training about LGBT issues (often called 'safe zone' training). This usually consists of a several-hour session in which participants learn about resources for LGBT students and the community itself. They may receive stickers that they can place on their office doors to identify safe spaces in which people are welcome to discuss LGBT issues. Some institutions have diversity offices that run these programmes. Independent organizations such as the Diversity Trust, based in the United Kingdom, also offer training.

Benny Chan: “You need to spend a lot of extra energy if you feel like you need to hide a part of your life.” Credit: GREG PARKINSON, HTTP://GREGPARKINSONPHOTO.COM

Although a sticker may seem like a small effort, a study of the Safe Zone programme at Iowa State University in Ames in 2002 suggests that these programmes can improve the climate on campus by visibly affirming that the needs of LGBT students are valid, and increasing heterosexuals' awareness of both the LGBT community and their own biases (N. J Evans J. College Student Dev. 43, 522–539; 2002).

The best-practices guide from LGBT+ Physicists also offers some measures to ease the path for transgender researchers. On a departmental level, simplifying the process of name changes on campus records — and indicating that changes will not affect someone's job, tenure or award applications — can be particularly meaningful for transgender people, who may have elected to transition to or have started identifying as their preferred gender during graduate studies. The CV can be a minefield: many transgender people “face an extremely difficult choice when applying to a new position”, says Long. “Either risk discrimination by outing yourself as trans, or risk discrimination by leaving out a significant chunk of your past work under a different name.”

Finding colleagues

Meeting researchers with similar backgrounds and concerns is becoming easier. LGBT researchers have been convening an informal networking dinner at meetings of the American Astronomical Society (AAS) for more than 20 years, but “you had to know it existed”, says Jane Rigby, an astrophysicist at NASA.

After several members of this group wrote a charter, the AAS Council created an official working group on LGBTIQ Equality (the I stands for 'intersex' and the Q for 'queer' or 'questioning'). The group's networking and other events now appear in the AAS conference programme. The working group is also collaborating with LGBT+ Physicists on joint best-practice guidelines.

There are also online physics and astronomy 'out' lists, to which LGBT researchers have voluntarily added their names and, in many cases, contact information so that they can be helpful to others. Both lists also include non-LGBT researchers who support the community. Some institutions, such as the University of California, San Francisco, have their own out lists.

Many institutions have LGBT networks. At CERN, Europe's particle-physics lab near Geneva, Switzerland, an LGBT group hosts social events and weekly lunches in the cafeteria to promote visibility, which is potentially helpful for LGBT visitors.

Young LGBT scientists can find both community and professional networking through mentoring. The US-based non-profit National Organization of Gay and Lesbian Scientists and Technical Professionals (NOGLSTP), which provided funding for the Queer in STEM survey, offers eight-month mentoring programmes for members. Through a partnership with MentorNet, an online STEM mentoring network, it matches undergraduate and graduate students, postdocs and other early-career professionals with mid- or later-career scientists in academia or industry. The goal is to keep LGBT people in STEM careers and to provide someone for students to talk to if they feel that they cannot discuss their personal lives with their advisers, says Rochelle Diamond, who is the chair of the NOGLSTP's board of directors and manages two labs at the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) in Pasadena.

LGBT mobility

Changes to marriage laws in some countries may influence acceptance of LGBT people in society at large, and improve the prospects of scientists looking for the right department fit (see Nature 454, 132–133; 2008). In the United States, for example, there is still a patchwork of state laws that forbid same-sex marriage. But last June, the US Supreme Court declared that the section of the Defense of Marriage Act that prohibited federal recognition of same-sex marriage was unconstitutional. That may boost the immigration of LGBT scientists, who can now sponsor foreign-born spouses for permanent-resident status. It can also help US-based researchers and their spouses. Rigby and her wife and child are now on the same insurance plan; combined with other benefits that are now permitted, they may save several thousand dollars this year.

At conferences, Carolyn Brinkworth, an astronomer at the Infrared Processing and Analysis Center at Caltech, wears a rainbow sticker with the words 'Safe Space', or a badge from an LGBT youth organization for which she volunteers. Young scientists have approached her to say that they have not felt comfortable being out at work. “It's rare that they tell me the climate is hostile,” she says. More often, she says, these researchers do not want to think about introducing a potential new source of work stress by coming out, or are not sure how their advisers or peers will react to their identity.

But Chan has found that being out proved better not only on a personal level, but also on a professional one. A volunteer for the American Chemical Society (ACS), Chan discussed being gay in an ACS publication after his tenure decision. Later he received multiple e-mails from colleagues whom he knew from ACS meetings. Most were e-mails of support, but one colleague also asked him about his single-crystal X-ray diffractometer. The two have now collaborated on multiple papers.

And at an LGBT reception at an ACS meeting, Chan also met a researcher who may host his sabbatical. “Being out has really helped me,” he says. “It frees you up to think of your research, and your scholarship.”