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...

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...

Have you hugged your post-doc today?

I'm speaking metaphorically, of course; everyone knows that scientists are socially challenged and very rarely engage in human contact.  But if I may reiterate the sentiments of Dr Isis and Scicurious, there is a way you can do something great for that special post-doc in your life--be it yourself, your future self, your current PhD-holding trainee, relative, friend, or significant other--write your congressperson!

President Obama's FY 2011 budget includes a 6% increase in trainee stipends, which, while modest (especially in light of what we actually make), would be a significant improvement over the last 4 years' budgets, in which stipend increases were either 0% or 1%.  We are long overdue for this raise, but the budget still needs to work its way through appropriations in order for these changes to become a reality.

So here's where you come in!  Write to your congressperson and tell them how important it is that our country invests in its young scientists.  The National Postdoctoral Association's website has all the information you might need to do so, including links to all the appropriations committee members and a form letter in case you're not sure exactly what to say.  But I highly encourage you to write your own letter, with feeling!

Think of it like a hug for your post-doc.  A hug made of money.

Science Mag: Late to the party and a total buzzkill

In news of the obvious, Science recently printed a piece entitled "Tenure-Track Jobs Remain Scarce." It describes the phenomenon in which experienced post-docs, unable to land a TT offer, go and do a second post-doc. I presume you're familiar. At first I thought it was a new-decade flashback kind of thing--you know, where they print articles from several years ago out of nostalgia for the aughts?  But then I realized that no, this is current.  Current, yes; new, no.

The piece reads like this:

1. It's hard to get a job.
2. Because there are no jobs.
3. Because universities have no money.
4. Stimulus package money helped a little, but not that much, plus it's all gone anyway, so...not that much.
5. Q: "Where will all the scientists go?"
    A:  Europe, but actually only a few of us will do that.
6. We.  Are.  FUCKED.

Oh, really?

What I find interesting about this article is that it highlights the fact that universities less affected by the economic downturn are able to have their pick of the litter when it comes to TT applicants.  Well!!  How nice for them!!  There is a silver lining after all!  It reminds me of all the articles that came out when the economy started tanking that covered how shitty life was for everyone who had lost their jobs or had their hours cut or whatever, but for those unaffected, there were some fabulous deals to be had on seriously reduced luxury items!

What I also find interesting is that there are no solutions offered.  Not even a suggestion that anyone, anywhere is working on it.  This on the heels of news that NIH will be passing the buck with respect to funding young researchers (go read MsPhD's and DrugMonkey's assessments of Francis Collins's announcement), and it's all one can do not to throw up one's hands in despair.

One thing I've noticed since I've started blogging is that although there are dozens of really amazing post-doc bloggers, I haven't found anyone else who's actively talking about their own job search.  Are you out there?  Even if you're not a blogger, but just a reader, I'd love to hear how things are going for others in my position.  I can't be the only one; if I were, I'd probably have a job by now.

Show me the money! (a chat with Francis Collins)

First off, I have to give a giant hat-tip to Scicurious, Kristen, Mike Pascoe, and the rest of the official Neurobloggers.  You guys are doing an amazing job covering some of the best parts of the conference, and I was wondering if I could maybe score some of whatever it is you're taking?  Seriously,  I'm so freaking exhausted every day I can hardly manage to order my dinner, let alone write a coherent and insightful synopsis of all the cool science I saw, so, well done!

Anyway, so you've been enjoying the first half of SfN, checking out posters, having Deep Intellectual Conversations, and listening to awe-inspiring talks by world-class scientists.  But all the while, something in the back of your mind has been nagging you--what is Dr Becca's Big Secret???  It's time to tell you.  You're ready.

A few days ago I was invited to be part of a small post-doc panel that would meet for an hour with Francis Collins, new Obama-appointed director of the NIH.  Apparently Dr Collins wanted to hear from the Scientists of the Future regarding our deepest desires general thoughts and concerns, and so 10 of us sat down with him and several NIH division heads this morning to discuss.  Naturally, I was very excited to be included in this meeting, given that I've had much on my mind lately re: becoming a Scientist of the Future.

Dr Francis was super friendly and warm and nice, and seemed to genuinely care about what we had to say.  The conversation started out benignly enough with some chit-chat about the state of connectomes and other databases and how useful they will be to Scientists of the Future, but during the discussion I couldn't suppress the thoughts in my brain that were saying, "can't anyone talk about databases?  Aren't we here because we're post-docs, in one of the trickiest and most precarious positions any scientist will be in?  Let's talk about me and my problems!"

Other panel members seemed to have the same internal monologue as I did, because it wasn't long before we were all demanding money left and right--better benefits with training grants, cost of living considerations in stipend minimums (as a New Yorker, I said a real "Amen!" when this was brought up), improved funding opportunities for senior post-docs and junior faculty, and financial incentives for engaging in scientific outreach.   


I was waiting for the moment when one of the division heads would burst and call us out on the greedy, whiny, entitled bitches we were making ourselves out to be, but that moment never came.  They actually seemed to be listening to us--our problems aren't new ones, and they're already taking real positive steps to try to fix some of them.  R01 submissions from first-time applicants are now being evaluated separately (and slightly more leniently) from those of more established PIs, in hopes of bringing down the statistic that the average age for new PIs to get their first R01 is currently a staggering 42 (I asked Dr Collins straight up, "what am I supposed to do for nine years??).  They've also created the P30 grants, which are given to universities to create junior faculty positions.  This, I think, is a great idea, and one of the openings I've applied for is funded in this way.

Some of the other points are a little further away from being solved, but not once did anyone tell us that our concerns and suggestions were unrealistic.  Of course, an hour is not nearly enough time for a Scientist of the Future to unload all of her hopes, dreams, and fears on the most powerful man in American health research, but I think the fact that he even took the time to get this together is a sign of good things to come.

It goes without saying that it would have been a lot more awesome if things went down like this:

Collins:  What can I do to make post-docs' lives and careers better?
Us:  Give us money and jobs, please.
Collins:  OH!!!  Is that it??  I had no idea it would be so easy!  Done and Done.
Us:  Sweet.

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