キャリアニュース2020年8月7～11日

I never thought I would miss the days when visa delays were my primary worry. But recently, my experience as a Chinese postdoc working in the United States has taken a darker turn. In February, I was forced to cut my family vacation in China short after hearing the U.S. government was about to issue a ban on travelers from China. Since then, I've been stunned how my people have suffered verbal and physical attacks, how my home country is being used as the name of a virus, and how my local Chinese consulate—which I've visited frequently—was ordered closed by the U.S. government. Last month, a graduate student I know was grilled on suspicion of espionage for 2 hours before boarding a plane to China. Imagining the fear he must have experienced, I was left in tears. > “I felt better knowing that my academic community supports me.” I moved from China to the United States 6 years ago to start my Ph.D. program. Having spent time in Canada before, I didn't face much of a language barrier

> Science's COVID-19 reporting is supported by the Pulitzer Center and the Heising-Simons Foundation When COVID-19 hit the United Kingdom, Michele Veldsman—a postdoc at the University of Oxford—took her 2-year-old daughter out of day care. She and her husband split child care responsibilities so they could each work half days. However, by the time the cognitive neuroscientist responded to urgent emails, she had little time left to dive into the data analyses and writing she'd hoped to make progress on. Nor did she have time for things such as virtual conferences, journal clubs, or collaborations. “I really need to be going to the stage of independence,” says Veldsman, who hopes to land a faculty position. “Collaborations … show that independence, which I don't have time to do now.” For months, stories such as Veldsman's have flooded social media. “All it takes is 5 minutes on Twitter to see how much people are struggling right now,” says Michelle Cardel, an assistant professor at