By Kimine Mayuzumi
I sit here at my desk, reflecting on my time in a Ph.D. program.
I remember sitting at the desk in the corner of my Toronto apartment, writing a poem about how my period affected me physically and mentally. I had to express it – not just out of frustration but also as a way to ritualize my acceptance of the challenge, particularly the severe cramps that kept me from doing anything deemed “productive.”
Even in high school in Japan, while preparing for college entrance exams, I envied boys for not having to go through periods. I felt a deep sense of unfairness. Looking back, I see that I was surrounded by a masculinity-centered view of success, one that dictated whose experiences mattered. At the same time, those feelings of frustration planted the seeds of my questioning – the system, the culture, and the structures that privilege some while burdening others.
Now, another transition is shaping my life: menopause.
I experience symptoms I suspect are tied to this stage – one that, despite its prevalence, remains misunderstood and overlooked. This time, though, I am not complaining. Perhaps I’ve gained wisdom and confidence over the years, or maybe I am simply fortunate not to have severe symptoms that interfere with my daily activities.
I recall a conversation with my client, Ema (pseudonym), who was struggling with hot flashes and brain fog. Teaching, once a source of joy, had become more difficult. The toxicity of her department only worsened her challenges, leaving her feeling stuck in her academic career. She told me, “I am often in survival mode.”
Menopausal bodies do not necessarily align with the dominant, productivity-oriented temporality of academia, which privileges linear progress, predictability, and control. Menopause disrupts this masculinist clock, challenging its emphasis on efficiency and measurement (Jack et al., 2019).
Further reinforcing this, menopause has long been framed negatively in medical and social discourse. Feminist scholars critique the deficit view, which pathologizes and objectifies bodies under a patriarchal medical gaze (Jack et al., 2019).
A recent conversation with a Somali friend broadened my perspective. She questioned menopause as a Western construct, arguing that it imposes negative connotations on middle-aged and older people. In her community, she explained, aging women are respected and play key roles in family decision-making.
Similarly, in Japan, menopause as a concept was introduced during the Meiji era, coinciding with the Westernization of medicine. Yoko Hara (2014) explains that with the rise of Western medical discourse, menopause became a tool to distinguish older people from younger ones, reinforcing gendered and age-based hierarchies.
Higher education is not immune to these cultural narratives. The ages associated with perimenopause and menopause often coincide with crucial career stages – promotion, tenure, and leadership opportunities. While academia has made progress in accommodating pregnancy and childcare through policy, experiences like menopause – affecting women, trans, and nonbinary scholars – remain largely unaddressed, particularly in the U.S. compared to the U.K. (Nordling, 2022).
That said, some faculty have begun to acknowledge menopause in their teaching. I have encountered academics who openly discuss their symptoms with students, recognizing how brain fog and hot flashes can affect their presence in the classroom. In doing so, they integrate their lived experiences into their pedagogy, challenging traditional expectations of faculty performance.
Menopause is not simply a private struggle; it is an institutional issue, a pedagogical issue, and a leadership issue. If academia continues to ignore it, we risk alienating and devaluing a significant portion of our academic community.
This silence reflects a deeper issue – how academia enforces a disembodied scholarly identity shaped by Western notions of time (See Shahjahan, 2024). The expectation that scholars move through their careers in a linear, uninterrupted fashion erases the realities of embodied experiences. Menopause, like other life transitions, exposes the fallacy of this framework and calls for a reimagining of academic time – one that honors the fullness of human experience.
How can we shift this narrative? What institutional changes, pedagogical strategies, or community practices can support scholars through this transition? I invite you to share your thoughts and experiences. As Karen Costa (2023) puts it, menopause is a time for transformation. Let’s start the conversation.
References/Resources
Costa, K. (2023) Let’s talk about menopause. Inside Higher Ed
Hara, Y. (2014). 日本近代における「更年期女性」像の形成 ――「内分泌」をめぐる言説の考察を中心に [The Formation of the Image of ‘Menopausal Women’ in Modern Japan: A Study on Discourses on Endocrinology]. Institute for Gender Studies, Ochanomizu University
Jack, G., Riach, K., & Bariola, E (2019) Temporality and gendered agency: Menopausal subjectivities in women’s work Human Relations 72(1)
Nordling, L. (2022). Why menopause matter in academic workplace Nature vol. 605
Shahjahan, A. R. (2024) “Am I a scholar?: Time, knowledge, and decoloniality” 2024 ASHE Annual Conference CIHE Pre-Conference Keynote
I am vitality (2025) Navigating menopause with traditional Chinese medicine: Natural relief for hot flashes, mood swings, and sleep disturbances
Image credit: Kento Higashimura