Dr Sophie Meekings
Speech Neuroscientist
Royal Society Dorothy Hodgkin Research Fellow
Breaking barriers for disabled scientists in STEM
Dr Sophie Meekings is a Speech Neuroscientist and Royal Society Dorothy Hodgkin Research Fellow studying how communication disabilities affect interactions. Deaf since childhood, she champions inclusivity in STEM and advocates for accessibility in academia.
A hands on and engaging start to science
Growing up as a deaf person, it was overwhelming to be in noisy environments, making it difficult to learn in the classroom. My parents decided to partially homeschool me, while I went to school two days a week.
My earliest memories of science come from my parents, even though neither of them had any formal science education after leaving school at 16. I vividly remember the day my parents took me to a science exhibition where I learned about butterfly wing iridescence.
I remember walking away clutching a little glass token shaped like a butterfly. I look back and think that early experience shaped my belief that science should be engaging and hands-on. Now as a scientist, a lot of my work involves computers, so it’s not always fun in the same way. But I still carry that sense that learning can be enjoyable.
I even give everyone who visits my lab a kazoo to take away with them. We use them in public engagement activities to explain how sound is produced by the voice. When you hum into a kazoo, you experience something similar to how the vocal cords work. It’s a fun way to introduce the concept of how speech is formed.
An unconventional path to STEM
Surprisingly, I don’t have any science A-levels.  I initially studied English as my first degree, but over time I became interested in how we, as humans, use language to communicate and what’s going on in the brain when we do that.
That curiosity led me to becoming a speech neuroscientist. I get to study and understand what your brain is doing when you’re having a conversation, especially when you have a disability that affects your speech. My career path has been far from linear, because I didn’t always know what I wanted to do, but I was always curious and eager to learn.
After my undergraduate degree, I became increasingly interested in language science, so I pursued a Masters in it and eventually a PhD. I ended up in a career that I didn’t set out to do. It all just happened naturally.
Championing and embedding inclusivity in my work
Inclusivity is something I care deeply about. You could argue that as a disabled female scientist from a low-income background I contribute just by existing, but I don’t think it stops there. A lot of my research focuses on understanding how communication disabilities affect interactions with the world, so inclusivity is fundamental to my work. It’s important to look beyond academia as well – I work on equality initiatives with people from across sectors as an executive of the UK Young Academy.
Beyond that, I try to embed inclusivity in how I work with others. I make sure that everyone I collaborate with knows they can request reasonable adjustments, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure they feel included. I’ve also mentored students with disabilities and participated in widening participation schemes, such as summer schools for students from underrepresented backgrounds.
Finding your passion while overcoming structural barriers
One of the things I love most about my job is the freedom I have to plan my own time and pursue what interests me. That’s a privileged position to be in, both in terms of running my own research programme and compared to most jobs in general.
There are, of course, structural barriers that come with being a minority in my field. One of the biggest difficulties I’ve faced is simply the lack of people like me in similar positions.
In almost every job I’ve had, I’ve been the first person to apply for Access to Work funding, which provides support for disabled employees. That means my department has had to create new administrative processes just to accommodate me. It’s frustrating to have to navigate extra bureaucracy just to get the support I need to do my job.
Another challenge is the uncertainty that comes with my career since my work is entirely dependent on research grants, so it can be difficult not knowing what the future holds. If people stop funding my research, I won’t be able to continue.
Nevertheless, even if I’m not doing research in exactly the same way as I am now, I know there will always be something interesting to pursue. I feel really fortunate to be in a career where I can keep learning and contributing to something I care about.
A proud milestone to remember
One of my proudest moments was securing funding for my PhD. At that point, I was applying for PhDs but also considering jobs in other industries because getting a place wasn’t guaranteed.
Not only did I get accepted, but I was also awarded the only Research Council studentship my department had to offer. That was an incredible moment for me because, up until then, academia had just been one of many possibilities. It felt like validation—that what I was doing was interesting and good enough to be a real option for my future.
When you’re young, it can feel like every decision—what GCSEs or A-levels you choose—will determine your entire future. But it doesn’t. While my parents both left school at 16, my dad later went back to complete an Open University degree in psychology, and my mum also studied biology.
The best approach is to follow what you’re truly passionate about, and that will lead you in the right direction, no matter how soon or late you get there.
