By Genevieve Marshall, IAU Head of Fundraising and past OAD Fellow
In Singapore where I grew up, we’d sometimes travel to Malaysian islands such as Tioman. After a long, occasionally white knuckle-grip drive up to Mersing or Malacca, we’d trade my mother’s tiny Suzuki Swift for a paint-peeled, elderly but still sturdy boat. They had these ancient diesel engines I was convinced would power us to the Moon and back, they were so loud. While the grownups slept, I’d lie awake staring up at a pristine night sky with a carpet of stars as far as the eye could see. For a child who was often isolated the night skies were a blessed escape. The Malaysian captains were sometimes kind enough to point out to us over-excited kids the stars and constellations. I was captivated. There was no way someone who got 13% on her last ever physics test as a teen would become an astronomer, but the stories and heritage of the night skies this girl learned in Southeast Asia inspired me to this day.
It was with some astonishment and plenty of excitement to receive an email inviting me to interview with the International Astronomical Union (IAU) over thirty years later for a position as their fundraiser. For the little girl who’d sought solitude and escape in the night skies it was a dream come true. Even through the pandemic, which hit the world a few days after I accepted the role, we achieved incredible things with incredible people.
Alas, it was also thanks to the pandemic that I had to finish my time at the IAU all too early. I looked back on my days there with wonderful colleagues with wistful sadness. What a rare opportunity to work in astronomy I’d had, with the greatest and brightest minds. And there was me, a humble fundraiser and non-astronomer, given a precious chance to help out in some small way. I’d had to leave my contract early in 2022, the toll on my family’s health, and my own health impacted, in no small part due to completing my MSc during a pandemic and trying to support my young daughter who at the time had struggled hugely.
Yet career ambitions weren’t the be all and end all, as astronomy taught me. What mattered the most were the people. I’d been chasing the leadership trail for over a decade, with various roles in fundraising senior leadership and the continual need to demonstrate I was climbing That Ladder while being an amazing mother, Michelin star chef, travel, nice holidays, a spick and span house at all times, fit, exercise 5 times a week and do it all under 1,500 calories a day. All the guff you’re sold as a teen and young woman. I realised during my two years at the IAU that it wasn’t actually what mattered. Astronomy had provided me with a safe haven in a community where I was able to just be who I was for the first time in my professional life. To have it end was devastating. Necessary, as my daughter needed me. No regrets on that score. Parenting forces us to make tough decisions for the better of the wee folk we’re blessed to have under our charge. But still, devastating.
We’d had great plans that were beginning to bear fruit as well. I saw snippets on social media and received kind emails from former colleagues keeping me up to date with every success. Even more importantly was the scope and opportunity available which as a major gift fundraiser in the nonprofit world, provided a golden chance to deliver all the ideas I’d dreamed of over my 25 years in the sector.
I remember the call which brought me back to the astronomy community. I was staring down the barrel of burnout for the second time, my beautiful little family unit battered after the pandemic. In my head I’d failed, yet again. Everyone was rushing to return to normal after the fear and grind of the pandemic, the world passing me by as I stopped, frozen in my head and unable to leave the house. I spent a long time wondering if there was ever a path back. I’d stayed in touch with astronomy, of course. Awesome initiatives such as Astronomers 4 Planet Earth and IDEEA, a group of incredible folk working on EDI and decolonisation in European astronomy, welcomed me. The pioneering African Astronomical Society (AfAS) requested I join the fundraising committee which was a real honour. The more I saw, the more I knew there was opportunity. Perhaps strange to say, in the current timeline we’re having to endure of increased polarisation, authoritarianism and extreme testing of our democratic systems. The media noise is loud, of those who seek to destroy what so many sacrificed to build. In a society where clicks and views are seemingly worth more than fact, where does that leave science?
It was with all these topics and more stewing in my mind when the very excellent Kevin Govender, Director of the IAU’s Office of Astronomy for Development (OAD), and I finally caught up in October 2023. I had surgeries planned, I had a house to move to and I wasn’t sure I had capacity for anything more than healing and my child. It was with some surprise when, after expounding on the riot of thoughts I had in my brain, that Kevin immediately invited me to volunteer for the National Organising Committee (NOC) for the IAU’s General Assembly (GA) from 6–15 August 2024 in Cape Town, South Africa (the first ever on the African continent), and join as an OAD Fellow. I was, of course, very familiar with the OAD’s Fellowship Programme. It brings in folks from all walks of life and experiences, sharing expertise with the astronomy community while enabling Fellows to learn more about international development and the role astronomy plays in delivering the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Access to the OAD is a big deal — with regional offices in every part of the world utilising astronomy as a key catalyst for development (and STEM of course, is notable for its significant impact in driving a country’s advancement), Fellows have a special opportunity to build their networks and work on a topic of interest to them and the OAD. This could either be for administrative support or communications, or developing one of the OAD’s three innovative and ambitious flagships in astrotourism, mental health and skills development.
I went away and thought about it and discussed with my husband and thought yes, this is something I need to do. IAU GA events are a significant gathering for the community, attracting over 2,000 astronomers every three years. They are a highlight in the global scientific calendar. Volunteering with some of Africa’s leading lights in astronomy to deliver the GA was, I decided, perhaps the best way to get myself and my career back on track. It would give me the opportunity to support the OAD with fundraising plans we’d had to stop when I left and build up an exciting base of support on the African continent for astronomy. Even more exciting was the GA breaking new ground in astronomy. Securing sponsors for a conference was the least of it. Here, we had a unique opportunity to introduce African astronomy to the world and showcase the significant advancements the continent has made. Africa has so much to offer, a continent bursting with diversity, culture and so much talent. Astronomy has been building steadily over the years in research, development and contribution to the scientific community, but for me, it was also a little more personal.
My MSc is in Gender, Sexuality and Society from Birkbeck College, University of London. I learned first-hand, for the first time in some instances, the impact of colonialism and racism through the lens of academic rigour where there is nowhere to hide the truth of my country’s brutal past. Nor could I ignore the white saviorism that permeates many of my colleagues in the nonprofit and international development sector. For me, the GA promised a very special chance to celebrate Africa and African astronomy and highlight, at least to some in Europe I’d come across, that Africa is not the poor neighbour our media still insists on portraying but deserves an equal seat at the table as a peer. This was also an opportunity for me to listen and learn from an exceptional group of Africans, be it born and raised or in their adopted country (just as the Netherlands is my adopted home). The mechanics of fundraising are easy after so long in the business. We bought new fundraising audiences to African astronomy, and with great success. We developed Theories of Change to tell the incredible story of the OAD to new audiences and introduced Salesforce and customer relationship management software for AfAS. But what I had to learn had nothing to do with my profession, and everything to do with cultural understanding.
Events are hugely challenging and stressful at the best of times. Organising a conference with such big ambitions — new sponsors, dealing with the politics in astronomy and politics in general, a range of different cultures and backgrounds on the NOC, and really very limited resourcing all led by volunteers to deliver a conference for around 2,600 people in person and online? A hybrid conference which was a first in astronomy, dedicated to sustainability and accessibility for those who can’t often afford the steep conference fees? You could argue it was an impossible task. I often felt limited by what I could do here in the Netherlands as a virtual committee member, and somewhat helpless as a virtual committe member to watch colleagues under such strain at times. Especially when the event was in full swing. I know what it’s like, having worked on 1,000+ people conferences in the past. But I needn’t have worried. The team carried this off with aplomb and the GA was a historic success.
What I did see were good spirits, good communication and a sense of humour. There were times of extreme strain and pressure and still the leadership from Kevin, Ram (Venugopal), Joy (Dr. Mdhluli), Charles (Dr. Takalana) and my other colleagues on the NOC was exceptional. There were no white older males throwing a tantrum, which had been most of my previous experiences, nor judgements for mistakes made or threats of anyone losing their job. I witnessed a group of people who treated one another with compassion and empathy, not just as a starting point but as the basic rule of teamworking. We don’t do that often in the West, with our structures and our endless rules and laws designed to protect the few and rigid pathways set for life. I learned about leadership from Kevin who really gave a master class in how to manage hugely complex events and a broad collective of individuals around the world on the NOC with competing priorities, all while dealing with significant pressure from those above. I discovered more about organisation management from Ram, community building and public speaking from Joy, what financial management looks like from a South African perspective from Yunus (Manjoo) and Glenda (Snowball). I’m not quite sure how Charles managed it at AfAS, but I was in awe at his multitasking while finding solutions to all kinds of problems. Nuhaah (Solomon) had some of the most creative and exciting ideas to bring South Africa to the participants I’ve ever seen at a conference while Sam’s (Samyukta Manikumar) rallying call at the astrotourism Unconference sparked long-term discussions on the future of sustainable astrotourism. Dominic (Vertue) was a serene swan gliding onwards at the GA itself, stuck with the most challenging technical issues and problems with presenters which would have left me screaming and running away, but he handled it with such ease and courtesy.
Kevin asked that I write a blog post on my experiences as a Fellow and what I’d learnt. It’s very hard to quantify just how much the experience as a Fellow has meant to me, or that Kevin took a chance on me to have me back with the OAD. All my colleagues on the NOC taught me something new, so many that I can’t list them all here. It was an experience I have come out on the other side most grateful for. Ultimately, it led me back to the IAU where I now have my old job back as Head of Fundraising, based once again with the awesome Dr. Pedro Russo at Leiden Observatory’s Astronomy & Society Group. I have so much gratitude to Pedro and Leiden Observatory for having me back, and to the IAU Officers for their encouragement and major investment into fundraising for the IAU and astronomy. The belief from all that this will work, and to be back with the OAD’s European Regional Office has bought much joy and fulfilment since starting again in November 2024. We have big plans for the OAD and our friends at the other IAU Offices and Centre. It is such a privilege to be back with everyone. More fundamentally, however, the experience as an OAD Fellow taught me to trust again and to believe in the people around me. Understanding more about African culture, hearing different speakers and experiences from a diverse range of people in the OAD community was transformative. It taught me patience — African time is different to the ferentic pace of the West — and to believe again, in myself but also the people around me. An important step in the lifelong journey of self-discovery. We are but one small part of a whole and good things come to those who wait.
I finish with one final acknowledgement and thank you to the late Dr. Carolina Ödman. I had the good fortune in the past to converse with Carolina on several occasions on the GA and the impact it would have on the African astronomy community, especially for women in astronomy. Her inspiration and dedication was always a welcome presence, and her legacy lives on through the enormous efforts of Kevin, his family and the NOC in bringing the magic of the GA 2024 to the world.
As for my friends and colleagues at the OAD, it is thanks to you that the little girl who lost herself in the stars has now found her way home. It’s so exciting to build the future of astronomy together. Can’t wait!