OK, so obviously there is a lot of crying in science. It's just that whenever I try to come up with a title for a blog post all I can think of are pop culture references, and with "crying" as a theme it's either Tom Hanks' famous line from A League of Their Own--which I've never actually seen, but which is a sort-of reference itself, I think (though calling Virginia Woolf "pop culture" may be ill-advised)--or The Crying Game, so.
Where was I?
Oh yes, running out of my PI's office in tears. Now, there are some ladies out there who look really pretty when they're crying, like delicate, weeping flowers, but I am not one of those ladies. My eyes puff up like crazy and get thoroughly bloodshot--physiologic responses that take ages to restore themselves. If I were a damsel in distress, the knights would probably run away in disgust.
While I was waiting for the transformation back to recognizable human to occur, I emailed my graduate advisor; I was still too embarrassed to tell Famous Dude. I told her the long, sordid story, asking her advice on the whole situation. It was a rare feeling for me, but at that moment, I just wanted someone to tell me what to do.
My grad advisor is amazing. She got back to me in 20 minutes with names of people she knew who she thought might be good for a short post-doc, and lots of words of encouragement. And not warm squishy "poor baby" encouragement--she knows better than that. She wrote, "Inhibit that stress response and think of all the opportunities that interest you. [Learning] a new method could lead more easily to a job! Let me know what happens--DO NOT GIVE UP!!"
That helped, because my initial instinct was to write to Famous Dude something along the lines of, "I'm soooooooo sorry, but we didn't get the grant. If you think there's any way you could consider the possibility of maybe having me in the lab anyway, I would be eternally grateful!" Instead, I realized that I had to write to Famous Dude with confidence and with purpose, not humility and desperation. I said (and I'm paraphrasing, here), look, bad news re: the Foundation. But this is a good grant, and I think it could be re-purposed for this new R21 FOA I just read about. I want to write this grant with you as a co-investigator--I think we'd have a very good chance of getting funded. What do you say?
Famous Dude is not sure if he can support me without the Foundation money, and seemed perplexed by the comments from the Foundation review. One point of issue seemed to be that the Foundation wasn't clear on what Famous Dude's role was in all of this, and they were worried that I didn't necessarily have all the support I needed to carry out the studies I'd proposed. After emailing back and forth over the course of an hour, we decided that it might be a good idea for Famous Dude to send the Foundation a letter to clarify his full support.
Within 15 minutes I was Bcc'd on this letter, and again, the floodgates opened wide. This letter, from this man who owes me nothing, was incredible--four solid paragraphs on his commitment to the project, and, more notably, his dedication to my career development. He called me "an outstanding young scientist" with whom he has "long been impressed," among other nice things.
Between this and my grad advisor's correspondance, I was completely overcome with emotion. To know, at this time when I am feeling my absolute lowest, that there are people out there who firmly believe in me and are ready and willing to go to bat for me...well, it is more than I felt I deserved.
Unfortunately, Famous Dude's letter fell upon deaf ears. The Foundation sent a brief and dismissive reply, with no indication that resubmission might be possible. Fuckers.
So, where are we now?
Best case scenario, Famous Dude does his fall budget and is able to find funds for me. We apply for the R21, get it, and live happily ever after. This won't be known for at least another month, though, and I can't just sit around making no other plans. So in the meantime, I need to start looking for another lab for a (hopefully short) second post-doc. There are several concerns I have about this:
1. I feel like from a career standpoint, if you're going to do a 2nd post-doc, there has to be a real point to it. In other words, I think I should go somewhere I can learn a brand new technique. However,
2. I'm expensive. I've now had over 5 years of post-doc experience. Are people going to be willing to hire someone who's not only pricey, but needs to be trained as well? I'd imagine that if someone were going to shell out the dough for an experienced post-doc, they'd want that person because she would be bringing a well-honed skill set to the lab.
3. I talked to one of our new faculty about possibly joining his lab. He uses some very cool techniques that would be great for me to learn and his interests broadly overlap with mine, so it seems like a good fit. He agreed, but he doesn't have enough money. He also made the interesting point that if I plan on applying for funding, I shouldn't be with a new faculty member like him, I need to be with someone like Famous Dude. Given how ecstatic my K99 reviewers were over my "Environment" (all 1s!), I think he's probably right.
I'd love all your thoughts and advice, here. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of either doing something awesome or completely blowing it--like expat postdoc notes in the comments of the last post, I don't want to take any old shitty position. However, I do need to pay my rent--as you might imagine, living in NY on a post-doc's salary does not allow one to save much of a cushion for times like these.
Finally, thanks again to everyone who commented and sent nice messages--on the blog, twitter, or via email--I'm so grateful to have such a caring and supportive group of readers!
The Plight of the Post-Doc
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
8.10.2010
8.09.2010
There's no crying in science!!?? (part 1)
Like 28% of iPhone users, I popped on the interwebs before getting out of bed Thursday morning. I was greeted by an email from the Foundation telling me that they would not be funding my proposal. The proposal that they asked me to write, and were very enthusiastic about in general. The proposal that would allow me to work with Famous Dude, crank out a high profile paper or two, and score a sweet TT job in another year or so (that easy!!!!). We really thought this grant was going to be funded.
Instead of a done deal, it's simply done--all of those hopes dashed by a reviewer who seemingly did not actually read the grant. Yeah, I know everybody says that when they get their summary statements, but seriously--how else do you explain criticisms like "it is not clear to us how many animals will be studied and what is the number of rats per experiment," when the first line of each Aim's methods states, for example, "Sixty male Sprague Dawley rats will be used for this experiment?"
The rejection has a lot of ramifications that are really quite serious in the context of my very near and very distant future. Not only does it mean that I most likely can't go work with Famous Dude, but it may mean that I will be unemployed in a few months. For the purposes of actually getting out of bed, though, I flicked the old denial switch to "on" and went about my usual morning activities: kitty medicine, Luna Bar, gym clothes, subway.
Once in lab, however, reality set in as I repeatedly fielded "how are you's" and "what's new's" from my lab mates (we are a friendly bunch!). Unlike Famous Dude, I have a terrible poker face, so it wasn't long before I was reaching for the Kimwipes. Per usual, my lab peeps were super supportive and awesome and agreed that the reviewer comments were probably written by the Foundation CEO's pomeranian.
When I broke the news to PI, he was extremely surprised, but had few words of comfort. He did, however, have many words of discomfort, most of which served to inform me that the grant I'm currently on would definitely run out sometime this fall. I listened to him, pressing firmly on the bridge of my nose, willing the tears back inside their ducts. It was of little use. When there was nothing else to say, I quickly thanked PI and ran out of his office before I completely lost it.
It is as if the floor has dropped out from under me. In 2-3 months I will lose my job, my health insurance, my productivity...all at a point in my career when I really need to be working. It is terrifying.
There is more to this story, of the not-necessarily-solving-any-problems-but-uplifting-nonetheless variety. But this is quite long already, so I'll leave it there, for now...
Instead of a done deal, it's simply done--all of those hopes dashed by a reviewer who seemingly did not actually read the grant. Yeah, I know everybody says that when they get their summary statements, but seriously--how else do you explain criticisms like "it is not clear to us how many animals will be studied and what is the number of rats per experiment," when the first line of each Aim's methods states, for example, "Sixty male Sprague Dawley rats will be used for this experiment?"
The rejection has a lot of ramifications that are really quite serious in the context of my very near and very distant future. Not only does it mean that I most likely can't go work with Famous Dude, but it may mean that I will be unemployed in a few months. For the purposes of actually getting out of bed, though, I flicked the old denial switch to "on" and went about my usual morning activities: kitty medicine, Luna Bar, gym clothes, subway.
Once in lab, however, reality set in as I repeatedly fielded "how are you's" and "what's new's" from my lab mates (we are a friendly bunch!). Unlike Famous Dude, I have a terrible poker face, so it wasn't long before I was reaching for the Kimwipes. Per usual, my lab peeps were super supportive and awesome and agreed that the reviewer comments were probably written by the Foundation CEO's pomeranian.
When I broke the news to PI, he was extremely surprised, but had few words of comfort. He did, however, have many words of discomfort, most of which served to inform me that the grant I'm currently on would definitely run out sometime this fall. I listened to him, pressing firmly on the bridge of my nose, willing the tears back inside their ducts. It was of little use. When there was nothing else to say, I quickly thanked PI and ran out of his office before I completely lost it.
It is as if the floor has dropped out from under me. In 2-3 months I will lose my job, my health insurance, my productivity...all at a point in my career when I really need to be working. It is terrifying.
There is more to this story, of the not-necessarily-solving-any-problems-but-uplifting-nonetheless variety. But this is quite long already, so I'll leave it there, for now...
7.21.2010
What we can all learn from Inception
If you felt like going to the movies in my grad school town, you just, you know, went to the movies. You met up with your friends maybe 15-20 min before showtime, bought tickets, got seats. Normal, right? This is not the case in New York. At least, this is not the case in New York if you want to see anything even remotely new, popular, critically acclaimed, artsy, or in IMAX--if Knight and Day is at the top of your queue, by all means, live in the moment.
Not only are most movies worth seeing sold out hours before showtime here, but people line up crazy early to get the best seats. Like, 90 minutes early. For a city whose residents always seem to have somewhere to go and something to do, New Yorkers love waiting in line. We wait in line for cupcakes, to get into Trader Joe's, and of course, for Apple products. The immense planning and standing around (not to mention pre-order ticket surcharges) required to enjoy a night at the movies means that J and I only head to the cinema when it's something we really feel like we need to see on the big screen, which means that we pretty much only see things in IMAX. Go big or go home, amirite?
This weekend we capped off a lovely day of water-based activities with the 1 am showing of Inception at the Lincoln Center IMAX.
It. Was. AWESOME.
I want to marry this movie. It's beautifully shot, clever but not overly smug, impeccably edited, and has a well-thought out internal logic that's surprisingly followable and mostly consistent. The themes, too, go well beyond the whole Matrix-y what-is-"real"-reality business, and I thought there were some pretty good messages that basically anyone could take home and apply to their own lives.
One of the big ideas in Inception is that of not letting your past decisions haunt you--actively choosing not to be crippled by regret. It's what LDC's character has to do in order to Get the Job Done, and as a reminder, Edith Piaf's "Non, je ne regrette rien" wafts in throughout the movie, penetrating each dreamer's consciousness, signaling an imminent return to wakefulness.
I'm currently writing up a project I did over the last year or so, and I'm realizing I could have done it better. Not that what I did isn't scientifically sound, but if I'd made some different decisions--say, collected blood from my animals, or used a different method of euthanasia, I could be asking a lot more interesting and revealing questions. At this point in the game, every publication I put out is important, and I feel like I didn't really maximize this one's potential.
And no, I can't do it again. I've got neither the time nor the money (nor, to quote Nicholson, the inclination) to re-do everything. What I can do is make the most of the data I do have, find the most appropriate journal for it, and allow all those "if I'd only"'s not to get me down, but to fuel my future work.
Like Leo, I have a Job to Get Done. You probably do too! And like Leo, we have all probably made some decisions we wish we hadn't. The key to success, just as Leo learned, is to face those decisions head on, acknowledge them, but refuse to let them own us. OK? It's settled, then. Can we pinky swear on this?
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PS- Candid Engineer also has a similarly-themed post up now. Go read, if you haven't already (though you probably have)!
5.06.2010
I need a montage!
Getting back into the swing of things after a meeting is never the smoothest of transitions, but this week's post-Experimental Biology re-entry has been especially bumpy. I returned to a stack of exams to grade, an experiment to finish, a lecture to prepare, and general feelings of uneasiness about my future. The exams took fucking forever longer than I'd have liked, and then my stupid control experiment (the only thing I need before writing it up) produced nothing measurable, so I have to troubleshoot and do it again. Waahh.
Whatever, I do it again, not a big deal. What is a big deal is that I also met with my boss this week, and for the first time we out-loud acknowledged what we've been ignoring for a while now: there is no definite funding for my project after the summer. This means that there's no funding for me unless I want to switch to working on the lab's main project, which is significantly different from what I've been doing so far. Now, not only do I not want to be on that project, but I don't think it would be a good move, career-wise. This is the time I'm supposed to be defining myself, doing work that's explicitly my own; on this project I'd literally be just a set of hands.
So there's that! You might say I've got some shit to figure out. Do I look for a new lab that's doing things more in sync with my interests? Suck it up and help out with my current lab's big project for a bit while I apply for grants of my own (many thanks to Drug Monkey's Twitter advice and link re: R vs K awards)? Give up completely?
Whenever people in the movies reach that pivotal point at which they go from feeling beat-down to getting their act together to accomplish their Big Goal, there's a montage to demonstrate the person's journey from beat-down-ness to awesomeness. A particularly on-point commentary on this phenomenon can be found in the near-classic film Team America: World Police
I feel like I need a montage. In my montage, you'll see me alternately: having thoughtful sciencey discussions with potential future collaborators in downtown cafes; pipetting; typing late at night (to demonstrate lateness, you'll see J come over to me at my desk, kiss me on the forehead, and stumble sleepily off to bed, shaking his head in disbelief at how hard I'm working); looking at beautiful fluorescent things in a microscope; hitting "submit manuscript" with a satisfied and accomplished look on my face; etc!
Oh and also there'll be a shot of me teaching as students look on, totally engaged and totally not checking facebook. Today I gave my first bona fide lecture that I put together myself completely from scratch, and even though I was very stressed out when I was making it last night at 2 am (this is the way you professors do things, yes?), I think it went very well. The professor in charge of the class seemed really happy with my decisions on what to include, and when I was up there talking I remember thinking at one point, "Wow! People are actually writing down the things that I'm saying!" I mean, obviously this happens at meetings or whatever all the time, but for some reason this felt different. I was molding young minds!
ANYway...yeah. To conclude, montages are totally motivational and I really need to get pumped up here. It's going to be an interesting couple of months...
Whatever, I do it again, not a big deal. What is a big deal is that I also met with my boss this week, and for the first time we out-loud acknowledged what we've been ignoring for a while now: there is no definite funding for my project after the summer. This means that there's no funding for me unless I want to switch to working on the lab's main project, which is significantly different from what I've been doing so far. Now, not only do I not want to be on that project, but I don't think it would be a good move, career-wise. This is the time I'm supposed to be defining myself, doing work that's explicitly my own; on this project I'd literally be just a set of hands.
So there's that! You might say I've got some shit to figure out. Do I look for a new lab that's doing things more in sync with my interests? Suck it up and help out with my current lab's big project for a bit while I apply for grants of my own (many thanks to Drug Monkey's Twitter advice and link re: R vs K awards)? Give up completely?
Whenever people in the movies reach that pivotal point at which they go from feeling beat-down to getting their act together to accomplish their Big Goal, there's a montage to demonstrate the person's journey from beat-down-ness to awesomeness. A particularly on-point commentary on this phenomenon can be found in the near-classic film Team America: World Police
I feel like I need a montage. In my montage, you'll see me alternately: having thoughtful sciencey discussions with potential future collaborators in downtown cafes; pipetting; typing late at night (to demonstrate lateness, you'll see J come over to me at my desk, kiss me on the forehead, and stumble sleepily off to bed, shaking his head in disbelief at how hard I'm working); looking at beautiful fluorescent things in a microscope; hitting "submit manuscript" with a satisfied and accomplished look on my face; etc!
Oh and also there'll be a shot of me teaching as students look on, totally engaged and totally not checking facebook. Today I gave my first bona fide lecture that I put together myself completely from scratch, and even though I was very stressed out when I was making it last night at 2 am (this is the way you professors do things, yes?), I think it went very well. The professor in charge of the class seemed really happy with my decisions on what to include, and when I was up there talking I remember thinking at one point, "Wow! People are actually writing down the things that I'm saying!" I mean, obviously this happens at meetings or whatever all the time, but for some reason this felt different. I was molding young minds!
ANYway...yeah. To conclude, montages are totally motivational and I really need to get pumped up here. It's going to be an interesting couple of months...
1.14.2010
Summer Student Situation
I don't know if it's my biological clock or what, but I've just had to turn down what are probably two very excellent summer high school students, and my heart is totally breaking.
An email popped up earlier this week from a PI in a different department in my institution, saying I'd been recommended as a possible mentor for these two high school students who were interested in neuroscience. I scrolled through the string of emails to see who recommended me, and it was a PI in my department who I don't know very well at all, but who described me as "stellar." Well! I see my reputation precedes me.
Below that email was an email that included mini-statements from the students, and WOW. High school students are reading primary source journal articles these days? I went to one of the best (public) high schools in my state, and I think I had maybe heard of the amygdala. Maybe. These kids can more articulately describe their interests (which substantially overlap with my own) than many grad students I've encountered, and oh, how I want to adopt them! I want to take them under my wing and teach them stereotaxic surgery and run a journal club and I can't help but imagine we'd all have the Best Summer Ever.
Unfortunately, this is pretty much the Worst Summer Ever to take on a good times mentoring gig. First off, though I think it's unlikely that I'll get an offer for the fall, it hasn't been definitively ruled out, so I may not even be here this summer. Assuming I don't get an offer, I then need to kick so much ass and be crazy productive to try to get another paper at least in press (or, more realistically, submitted) by the time the next hiring cycle comes around. The students would only be here for 4-6 weeks, which is not really enough time to train them to the point where they'd actually be helping me; it's just not that compatible with kicking so much ass. Finally, most of the work I'll be doing this summer will be computer-y stuff, not fun animal experiments, so even if I were to take them on as helpers, they likely wouldn't be doing anything they actually find interesting.
Sigh. Bon chance, little students! I'm sorry the timing was completely wrong for us to be together. Look me up when you've (started and) finished college and are looking for PhD advisors, mkay?
An email popped up earlier this week from a PI in a different department in my institution, saying I'd been recommended as a possible mentor for these two high school students who were interested in neuroscience. I scrolled through the string of emails to see who recommended me, and it was a PI in my department who I don't know very well at all, but who described me as "stellar." Well! I see my reputation precedes me.
Below that email was an email that included mini-statements from the students, and WOW. High school students are reading primary source journal articles these days? I went to one of the best (public) high schools in my state, and I think I had maybe heard of the amygdala. Maybe. These kids can more articulately describe their interests (which substantially overlap with my own) than many grad students I've encountered, and oh, how I want to adopt them! I want to take them under my wing and teach them stereotaxic surgery and run a journal club and I can't help but imagine we'd all have the Best Summer Ever.
Unfortunately, this is pretty much the Worst Summer Ever to take on a good times mentoring gig. First off, though I think it's unlikely that I'll get an offer for the fall, it hasn't been definitively ruled out, so I may not even be here this summer. Assuming I don't get an offer, I then need to kick so much ass and be crazy productive to try to get another paper at least in press (or, more realistically, submitted) by the time the next hiring cycle comes around. The students would only be here for 4-6 weeks, which is not really enough time to train them to the point where they'd actually be helping me; it's just not that compatible with kicking so much ass. Finally, most of the work I'll be doing this summer will be computer-y stuff, not fun animal experiments, so even if I were to take them on as helpers, they likely wouldn't be doing anything they actually find interesting.
Sigh. Bon chance, little students! I'm sorry the timing was completely wrong for us to be together. Look me up when you've (started and) finished college and are looking for PhD advisors, mkay?
10.31.2009
Well, that sucked.
Did you hear that whooshing noise earlier today? That was the sound of my ego, deflating faster than the Heene balloon.
My K99 application came back unscored. I don't want to whine about it too much because I know this is something that happens to many people, even people who go on to be (or are) successful scientists, but frankly, I feel like I've been slapped in the face.
I'm embarrassed, indignant, and sad. I don't feel sorry for myself, but I'm frustrated that I so severely misjudged how strong my application was. As I wrote about previously, I thought I was pretty hot stuff, and it's scary to think I may be far from it.
I've never been one for wallowing, though--it's ugly and unproductive. I contacted my Program Officer and there's nothing I can do but wait for my summary statement, which will hopefully give me some insight into the reviewers' major issues. Until then, I've just got to keep doing what I was doing before this grant was something that mattered--getting my work done and applying for jobs. Tonight I'll be bummed, but J's making tacos and the Yankees are winning, so I suppose life isn't all bad.
My K99 application came back unscored. I don't want to whine about it too much because I know this is something that happens to many people, even people who go on to be (or are) successful scientists, but frankly, I feel like I've been slapped in the face.
I'm embarrassed, indignant, and sad. I don't feel sorry for myself, but I'm frustrated that I so severely misjudged how strong my application was. As I wrote about previously, I thought I was pretty hot stuff, and it's scary to think I may be far from it.
I've never been one for wallowing, though--it's ugly and unproductive. I contacted my Program Officer and there's nothing I can do but wait for my summary statement, which will hopefully give me some insight into the reviewers' major issues. Until then, I've just got to keep doing what I was doing before this grant was something that mattered--getting my work done and applying for jobs. Tonight I'll be bummed, but J's making tacos and the Yankees are winning, so I suppose life isn't all bad.
