So when I pulled the Hypomyces banningiae from the type cabinet, I was emotional. Embodied in this humble specimen—a fuzzy parasitic fungus that grows on the bodies of other mushrooms—I saw the work of two people, two colleagues, two friends. But I also saw the great tragedy of sexism. I saw two mycologists, one remembered, one forgotten. I saw two brilliant people, one employed by the state, the other dying homeless. I thought about how rarely, even in this historical moment, I’ve heard men describe any woman as “genius.” I thought about all the women who have been discounted, all the people
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