Transitioning to a Real Scientist
I've been thinking lately about the differences between how I was taught to behave as a student and a post-doc, and how I am now expected to behave as an assistant professor.
Be selfish, they tell me. Take time for yourself, they say. Block entire days, don't come to work, write write write write write. Close Outlook; email can wait. These are all pieces of advice my mentors have given me. Prioritize. It's all about you and your success.
My current department chair was my post-doc principal investigator. The rules weren't printed anywhere, but it was expected that I was constantly working for the good of the group. There was no such thing as personal time. She expected to be able to find me on campus, either at my desk or in our research unit, during normal business hours, even if I was supposed to be writing; I sat in an office with five other people. I always had a computer with me, and was always on email (this pre-dates the iPhone; how did we ever function without being able to roll over and check email in bed in the middle of the night?). We would literally have email conversations two or three times a week and once during the weekend between 8 and 11 pm. During particularly busy times, we would essentially be instant messaging at 3 am. My last 3 months of fellowship, I worked 80+ hour weeks to finish a study; I forgot my own mother's birthday that year. My reward was a first-author publication in a high-impact journal, an academic prize of the highest order.
I don't believe I'm alone in this. My friends here have all experienced this as trainees. I have tried to take a different tact with my own trainees, but when I think they are being lazy and not taking advantage of their opportunities, it's not hard to see why so many mentors insist on being hard-asses, always.
The hardest leap for me has been, and may always be, the division of my attention. I had my projects, and I focused on them. I was protected from "distractions" in order to be "productive". Now I leap from disparate task to disparate task without much breathing room. Today, I worked with my grant admin to scramble up some budgets for my grant. I responded to some emails about the science of the grant. I had a Skype meeting with a potential collaborator in California about a very different science than the current grant. I worked on the grant some more. I met with my grad student to get her help with the grant. I worked on revisions for a paper from a former fellow. I tried to help my current fellow put a presentation together to get help from a senior faculty member. I took a conference call about some innovative teaching methods for my class that starts next week. Then I worked on my grant some more. Then I spent 1.5 hours going through revisions on a different paper with my student and helping her draft a response to reviewer comments. Then I worked on the grant. Then I went home and nursed the toddler and helped get them to bed.
Tomorrow I'm going to get up really early and go to bootcamp, then get the kids to school. Then meet with my other fellow to teach him basic pharmacokinetics and advise him on a project about recombinant clotting factors kinetics, which is not at all my area of expertise but I know more than the heme folks who asked for help. Then I have a School-wide faculty meeting, where we'll talk about 10 different things while the Dean subtly calls us lazy, and I'll try to covertly get my course management site up and running, request software access for the students in my class, and review student proposals so I can help them revise them on Friday morning. (Gotta get there early to get the seats where the people behind can't see what you're doing on your computer.)
Shit, y'all. I'm tired. And I'm not even the busiest person around there.
I'm privileged to do this. Really. But the transition is blowing my mind...
Be selfish, they tell me. Take time for yourself, they say. Block entire days, don't come to work, write write write write write. Close Outlook; email can wait. These are all pieces of advice my mentors have given me. Prioritize. It's all about you and your success.
My current department chair was my post-doc principal investigator. The rules weren't printed anywhere, but it was expected that I was constantly working for the good of the group. There was no such thing as personal time. She expected to be able to find me on campus, either at my desk or in our research unit, during normal business hours, even if I was supposed to be writing; I sat in an office with five other people. I always had a computer with me, and was always on email (this pre-dates the iPhone; how did we ever function without being able to roll over and check email in bed in the middle of the night?). We would literally have email conversations two or three times a week and once during the weekend between 8 and 11 pm. During particularly busy times, we would essentially be instant messaging at 3 am. My last 3 months of fellowship, I worked 80+ hour weeks to finish a study; I forgot my own mother's birthday that year. My reward was a first-author publication in a high-impact journal, an academic prize of the highest order.
I don't believe I'm alone in this. My friends here have all experienced this as trainees. I have tried to take a different tact with my own trainees, but when I think they are being lazy and not taking advantage of their opportunities, it's not hard to see why so many mentors insist on being hard-asses, always.
The hardest leap for me has been, and may always be, the division of my attention. I had my projects, and I focused on them. I was protected from "distractions" in order to be "productive". Now I leap from disparate task to disparate task without much breathing room. Today, I worked with my grant admin to scramble up some budgets for my grant. I responded to some emails about the science of the grant. I had a Skype meeting with a potential collaborator in California about a very different science than the current grant. I worked on the grant some more. I met with my grad student to get her help with the grant. I worked on revisions for a paper from a former fellow. I tried to help my current fellow put a presentation together to get help from a senior faculty member. I took a conference call about some innovative teaching methods for my class that starts next week. Then I worked on my grant some more. Then I spent 1.5 hours going through revisions on a different paper with my student and helping her draft a response to reviewer comments. Then I worked on the grant. Then I went home and nursed the toddler and helped get them to bed.
Tomorrow I'm going to get up really early and go to bootcamp, then get the kids to school. Then meet with my other fellow to teach him basic pharmacokinetics and advise him on a project about recombinant clotting factors kinetics, which is not at all my area of expertise but I know more than the heme folks who asked for help. Then I have a School-wide faculty meeting, where we'll talk about 10 different things while the Dean subtly calls us lazy, and I'll try to covertly get my course management site up and running, request software access for the students in my class, and review student proposals so I can help them revise them on Friday morning. (Gotta get there early to get the seats where the people behind can't see what you're doing on your computer.)
Shit, y'all. I'm tired. And I'm not even the busiest person around there.
I'm privileged to do this. Really. But the transition is blowing my mind...
Comments
Post a Comment