Matronly Duties

There are absolutely no circumstances in which it is flattering to be referred to as a 'matron'.

Completely inappropriate statements include:

1. "Here comes the matron."
2. "Wow, that is the prettiest matron I've ever seen."
3. "The matron has a big mouth."
4. "Why is the matron shit-can wasted?"
5. "The matron is completely out of control."

I think being referred to as a matron would be enough to compel any woman to drink like a fish.

Tickle Me Pink

I received the nicest compliment from one of my labmates the other day. Apparently, he had just read one of my recent publications.

He approached me and told me that he thought the "prose what quite impressive". He then asked, given the big name of the journal, if the editorial staff had given the manuscript a complete overhaul prior to publication. I replied with, "Oh no, baby, that was all me!"

He smiled and said it was among the most elegant pieces of writing that he had ever read.

Wow! His kind words still have me tickled pink.

I pride myself on my writing, and I think it's among my best scientific skills . I also think it's a pretty low-key skill to have, so I don't really think many people take notice. I mean, how many people in our labs, how many people that we know, actually ever read the stuff we write? They may notice when we win awards or when we consistently have cool new ideas or assloads of fresh data at group meeting, but they don't read our manuscripts; they don't pore over our sentence structure and our use of interesting words such as 'glean' or 'egress' or 'pellucid'. So it was nice to have someone whose opinion matters to me read my article and acknowledge the effort.

And you know, honest compliments are a sure way to win over your peers. People like people who like them. So tell your colleagues that you appreciate them; tell your labmates that they have good ideas, that they are good teachers, that they are good presenters, that they are the most fashionable graduate students of all time. Tell them, if it is true. They will like you for it. I know I like my coworker better already.

It's A Lady!

In the journals I read, and often in review articles, there are nondescript pictures of the human body incorporated into some of the figures. And by human body, I am referring to the male body. Not surprising, maybe, but still annoying.

When I was putting together my review on the Mango field last year, I put together a figure that included the display of a human body, and I proudly made the point of drawing the body as female. Her hair may have resembled Cyndi Lauper's and her breasts might have been hanging out somewhere near her waist, but she was distinctively female.

So I was a bit bummed when the journal editors cut the body out of the figure and reduced my lady right down to her genderless arm. I felt like I had missed my chance to build gender equity in science review figures.

But, behold! I was reading a review this month (for the life of me, I can't find it right now) and came across this lovely image, worked into a larger figure:

Figure 1: Memo to the scientific community: Women have blood flow, too, you jackasses.

I feel partially vindicated. I hope the trend continues.

Just What's On My Mind

1. I am now qualified to work with air-sensitive chemicals under a nitrogen atmosphere. My labmates have taken to hiding under their desks. Today, I "free-based" a couple of my reactions. For some reason, whenever I hear the term "free-basing", my mind immediately leaps to "free-balling", and I instantly picture my husband running through the house gyrating his junk around. Maybe not the best image to consider as I'm handling a nasty chemical that will purportedly melt my skin.

2. I have had a week chalk full of confrontation. From one of our core facilities people calling me "selfish" and generally being a wretched person to awkward meetings and covert hallway discussions about paper authorship. I, frankly, am tired of all of this goddamn drama. I just don't have the strength for it this week. Today, I started crying when my labmate/friend told me that he didn't want me to write the introduction to a manuscript. I didn't really care (who wants to write introductions, anyway?) but it was just the last straw of confrontation on my camel's back, and I lost my junk. So unless my coworkers want to give me a hug, seriously, I'd rather have them go away.

Did You Need Those Glamour Magz?

Following up on the discussion about Glamour Mag publications and whether or not they are necessary to obtain a tenure-track faculty position... Some of my readers have expressed an interest in learning the specifics of publications needed for TT faculty hires. I, too, am quite curious.

I was hoping that I'd be able to conduct an informal poll of my readers who currently hold TT positions. I'd like to know about what you think the impact of Glamour Mag publications are in hiring people in your field. Did you have a C/N/S pub? If not, why do you think you obtained your position without one? If so, do you think you needed it? Any information you are willing to share regarding your field, the ranking of the department where you obtained your TT position, and any needed background would be helpful. Please feel free to leave an anonymous comment on this post or to email me directly at the address in the sidebar. Identities are to remain completely protected.

The sample size will probably be small, but maybe as a group, we can learn something about what kind of grip C/N/S publications actually have on the TT hiring process.

I Don't Need No Glamour Magz

1. I need to stop thinking that the only way I will get a good job coming out of this postdoc is if I have a first-author Glamour Mag publication. Honestly, there is something wrong with my brain.
2. I need to stop thinking that for every time my Mango subgroup publishes in a Glamour Mag, there is less room for me to publish in a Glamour Mag.

When the hell did I get so obsessed with Glamour Mags?!?!?!! It is seriously not a particularly healthy behavior.

I got obsessed with Glamour Mags because my lab is obsessed with Glamour Mags. It's all people seem to read, all people seem to want to talk about, all people want to publish in. Also, my labmates work on a lot of cutting edge stuff, so a fair number of Glamour Mag publications come out of our lab. I didn't worry about it so much as a grad student because it just didn't seem obtainable.

But then I came here, where lots of people are sporting CNS-type publications, and suddenly, it seemed like something I could do. Something I should do.

I need to remind myself that I don't need this kind of publication to succeed. I need to remind myself about one of my labmates, who has numerous impact factor 4-5 papers from her stint as a postdoc, got 9 interviews at top-20 schools and something like 5 or 6 offers. She's starting her TT-position at Stanford in the fall. And I guess Stanford is nothing to sneeze at.

I just don't like thinking this way. I know it's part of the culture of my lab, but I've got to remain confident in my ability to do good work and to sell myself in my interviews (if the journal names on my CV won't do it for me).

But then again, I've been particularly hard on myself these past few weeks, so I'm hoping these stupid feelings just go away soon.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

I understand that we all have different reasons for being researchers. For being scientists. For dragging our fine, firm asses out of bed every morning to do whatever it is that we're going to do. We all have different reasons. And that's cool.

What I don't like, people, what I strongly and squarely do not like, is when I am told that my reasons for doing science are not the right reasons.

The RIGHT reasons, motherfuckers? What are the RIGHT reasons?

I work in biomedical science because I feel that, for me, it is the most satisfying application for my education in engineering fundamentals. Designing and implementing technologies for the human body is, for me, much more meaningful than working on inanimate engineering systems.

And so what do I want to get out of my biomedical research? I want progress, pure and simple. I want to anchor myself on the cutting edge of some biomedical technology, and I want to push that edge forward. For me, it doesn't matter so much if the technology is in its baby stages or if it is quite advanced- as long as I am making progress, I am satisfied.

So what really bakes my noodle is the often dominating opinion within my lab that the only reason we should be doing science is to get a product into people. And if we don't get a product into people, then what the hell is the point and we should all be totally depressed about how all of our hard work didn't amount to jack shit at the end of the day.

Of course, a goal of producing human therapeutics is admirable and desirable, but I firmly believe that it cannot be the only thing that drives science. I mean, we would all be almost exclusively depressed throughout our entire careers!!! If, during the course of my lifetime, I can get *one* product into people, then I would say that's pretty good.

Otherwise, why can't we focus on more incremental progress? Why can't we focus on understanding some of the fundamental mechanisms behind our technologies? Big scientific progress cannot and does not take place on the order of months or even years. Real scientific progress often takes decades- it takes many people in many labs trying things, publishing initial successes, learning from one another, and slowly, slowly making advances.

And for this reason, I am happy and content knowing that I am a small part in the great continuum of biomedical science. If I can get drugs into people, or cure cancer, or win a Nobel prize someday, one day, well that would be great. But my true satisfaction lies grounded in reality, in knowing that I do what I can to push the boundaries of ignorance farther and farther from where we all stand.

Cooking with the Bunsen Burner

I was talking to my labmate-friend the other day about taking on an undergraduate student for the summer, and how it's a relatively risky process given that you're stuck with the student all day every day for a few months. Yes, you typically get to interview the student, and you get to look at their resume. But because they often lack any kind of substantive experience, you really have little to no idea as to how well they'll do in the lab.

God knows I've had my share of lemons.

But apparently, I haven't been aware of certain hiring criteria for experimental lab internships. My labmate tells me that he picked up this astute tip years ago from a professor at his grad institution: Simply ask the student if s/he likes to cook.

Yes? You like to cook? You're good at making spinach and feta-stuffed chicken with pumpkin risotto? What what what?!? You're hired!

The idea, of course, is that if you enjoy cooking, you presumably are coordinated enough to make tasty food without burning your motherfucking house down. And if you're coordinated enough to make tasty food without burning your motherfucking house down, then you can probably do successful experiments without burning your motherfucking lab down.

Pretty key, I'd say.

But I'm wondering if my labmate's theory holds, at least among my readers. So tell me, dear readers, what your cooking and experimental inclinations are like. Pick the most appropriate answer, even if it doesn't describe you 100% accurately. Also feel free to leave any asinine stories you have about cooking or Bunsen burners in the comments.

Scientists at a House Party

I was at a house party last night that was mainly attended by my labmates. One particular friend, never having been to the house before, came up the backstairs into the party instead of through the front door.

When someone asked him how he knew it was the right house without looking at the street address, he said, "As we approached the back of the house, we heard someone on the porch say the words 'immune system', and we knew it had to be the place."

Ahahahahaaaa!!!! I love scientists.

Song of Myself

I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.

This week, the week of the anniversary of my birth, is typically spent being festive and carefree. I've never been one to loathe my birthday (indeed, I still think I look good), and I love the excuse to celebrate.

But what I didn't know, couldn't know this week was that just outside my office window, a man would jump to his death. That he would take his last breath, and choose to fall.

We noticed the flood of sirens and flashing lights and ran to the windows, only to see this small person, strewn about on the pavement, blood and gore oozing, and a stray shoe off to the side.

I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

It's so hard to even describe the feelings this sort of thing evokes. The feeling you get when something that's not supposed to happen actually does. A feeling of loss, of sadness, for this person I didn't even know, a person not unlike myself, for his parents, for the man who first found him on the pavement, for all of the people who had to serve as witness to this profound act of hopelessness.

I swear I will never again mention love or death inside a house,
And I swear I will never translate myself at all, only to him or her who privately stays with me in the open air.

If you would understand me go to the heights or water-shore,
The nearest gnat is an explanation, and a drop or motion of waves key,
The maul, the oar, the hand-saw, second my words.

They are offering us counseling here, but what do I need to say to the counselors? My labmates and I talk to each other. The words of one in particular stay with me. He said, "Here we are, working in the lab, trying desperately to save people's lives through science. And just outside our window, someone desperately took away their own." The irony in this is difficult, and there doesn't seem to be any sense in trying to understand such a thing. We somehow just have to digest, accept, and move on.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

So here I am, another year older, wanting badly to revel in the life my mother gave me, wanting so badly to be thankful for this chance to breathe, to feel, to love. And I am. It's just that I'm also overwhelmed by this cognizance that this living I'm doing, this beautiful gift that I have- it's a choice. It's a choice that I feel I can no longer afford to take for granted.

So for today, my sweet readers, I will choose to celebrate myself, to sing of myself, of my life, and of all the people in it who love me, and whom I love in return.

*Excerpts from one of my favorites, Walt Whitman.

Girls Can Do Maths

Read a great piece today over at Not Exactly Rocket Science on how the gender gap in mathematics is driven by social, and not biological, factors.

As a woman, I've never been told that I can't do math or that I have little chance of being as successful as men at high-level mathematics. Nonetheless, I am completely aware of the societal perceptions in this country that math is a *boy's* subject. Which is, you know, irksome. Because I'm actually really good at math. I got a minor in Mathematics, and attribute my success in engineering courses to my above-average ability to do math under pressure. And I'm just one example- I'm sure there are scads of women with the potential to be excellent mathematicians.

So anyway, go check out the article. And now that I've done by bit as math cheerleader for the day, I will caution my readers that alcohol and math don't mix. So please don't drink and derive!

I Get By with a Little Help from My Friends

For the Scientiae carnival this month, ScienceWoman is asking us what keeps us moving forward in our research and professional lives. For me, the answers are simple:

1. Speed.
2. The J.Crew rewards program.
   
3. Catapults.

Ha! And for the record, I do not condone or support the use of drugs. I do, however, condone and support the use of catapults. There is nothing better than a rusty catapult to launch me through the week.

In all seriousness, Sciencewoman's question couldn't come at a better time. I've spent the better part of the last month or two feeling pretty down about my data and overall research plan. As we all know, these are tough times to get through, but I've done my best to keep my nose to the grindstone and work my way to a more productive place.

One of the techniques I've been using to get excited about research again is the 'learn-new-shit' approach. As in, forget about the Mango-slicing, it's time to do some organic chemistry. And just so it's clear, I have never in my life attempted organic chemistry and have no known skills in that field whatsoever.

When I first got to my lab a year and a half ago, I needed to use a particular chemical for my research that is not commercially available. One of our organic chemistry postdocs at the time had synthesized this chemical and provided me with what I needed. When I asked him what I should do if I ever ran out, he emphatically told me that never, under any circumstance, should I attempt to make it myself, and that someone would have to do it for me.

Well, that particular postdoc is long gone from the lab, and but of course, I recently ran out of my not-so-commercially-available material. When I asked our reigning organic chemist if he could make some for me, he asked if I'd be interested in doing it myself. I told him that yes, I'm always interested in learning new things, but I expressed my concern to him that I had been cautioned to NEVER attempt the synthesis. And he told me not to be silly, that I'd learned enough organic chemistry in my months in the lab to give it a go. He said it shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours, so I happily agreed.

HAHAHAAHhahahahaha!!!!!!11!!!!hahahaha!!!haHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

Ha.

Yeah, that was a good one.

I will brush over the gory details, but let's just say that said synthesis went a little awry and wound up consuming two 15-hour days, the entirety of which were spent doing hands-on organic chemistry. I was able to do the first 5 hours of work with assistance and no issue, but when things went bad, my organic chemist colleague put aside his own work and stepped in to save my day(s). He worked with me into the night to help me get my product. Behold:

Figure 1: The fruit of my organic chemistry loins. 6.6 grams of pure joy.

In retrospect, it is completely obvious to me (and to my organic chemistry colleague) why I had been cautioned not to attempt this particular synthesis. But ignorance aside, part of me is oh-so-proud that someone had told me "never do this", but I did it alright. With the help of my friend, I did it. Maybe it's just a little organic chemistry, but for me, it was an empowering experience.

I've been in this lab for a while, but the place never ceases to amaze me. In how many labs could I have done this? In how many labs would it be possible? To take an engineer, trained largely in biological experimental technique, and team her up with a gracious, generous colleague to help her to make her very own organic product... I am just totally in love with this whole concept of learning new things through the power of collaboration.

It is something I missed out on as a grad student and something that I didn't even really appreciate until more recently. But when you work with great people, you can naturally do great things together, and you can lean on them and use them (in a good way) to pull you out of the occasional funk. My labmates add energy and excitement to established projects as well as ideas that are just in the formative stages. And this time around, it was through them that I've been able to get my gears going again, moving forward, one day at a time.