Showing posts with label real life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label real life. Show all posts

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Poster woes

About six months ago, our PI sent around an email alerting us to a meeting and saying that anyone who wanted to go could submit a poster and go.

Apparently six months ago I was bright eyed and bushy tailed and excited about an international meeting (for, uh, people not in the US), and science!, and hotels! And I was working on a project that I thought would make a good poster, so I wrote up and abstract, ran it by the boss, and submitted it. Lo and behold it was accepted! And I was very excited until someone kindly told me that pretty much everyone gets posters accepted, because, well, you can just put up a poster anywhere. Ok. So, a little bit of a let down, because it's like getting the "Most Improved" award on a sports team, because you just know that everyone gets an award because they can't just not give you one, but clearly you were not the most valuable or had the most headers. (Note to children's sports coaches, to an overly-sensitive 9 year old, getting "Most Improved" is pretty much the Worst Thing Ever.)

Well anyway, back to the saga of my poster. The problem was, that when I wrote my abstract and submitted my poster six months ago, I figured that after six months I would get the beautiful results that I hypothesized and make a brilliant poster and then I would get discovered and receive an honorary PhD and a book deal. (I think big, ok?) And of course, this does not happen. Not only do I not have great results, but I am also lacking on actual data. There were some quality issues and long story short, well, there isn't really a great system for detecting copy number variations between monozygotic twins.

The meeting is in three weeks, and my PI wants to see my poster by the end of next week to have time to look and critique and change. Oh perfect! That means I have a week! I'll start today!

And this is what I have so far.

Too bad you can't actually put crickets chirping on a poster. Because that is what my powerpoint slide right now is doing at me. It's chirping.

So what am I supposed to do? Pictures? I'm thinking of bringing some of my daughters stickers from home and maybe decorating it some. You know, draw their eyes away from the big empty space that is, well, the entire poster. Maybe some sort of post-it note collage? Anyone have any ideas when, you know, you have to distract people from the fact that you don't have any results?

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Inevitable

I took a break from the lab last week, and headed up with my boyfriend to his brother's wedding at their family farm in Virginia. It was beautiful, just on the edge of Shenandoah National Park, it was a break from the heat and the monotony of work.

Which brings me to the inevitable. Meeting new people, and answering the question, "so what do you do?"
Around scientists this is easy. I may feel slight embarrassment when explaining what I do to molecular biologists, because sometimes there is slight shame in "discovery science" (which there shouldn't be, but that's another topic for another day.) I work in human genetics. It's harder impossible to design an elegant experiment to test a hypothesis when what you're interested is humans.

But what do you say around people with no science background at all? It's especially hard because my boyfriend is one of those do-gooder types. If we're standing next to each other and someone asks what he does, he says, "I'm starting my masters in social work, and I'm specifically interested in resettling African refugees." To which you just watch people swoon. Everyone knows what social work is, and everyone knows it's such a noble profession where you tend to be over worked and underpaid, so this makes A (the boyfriend) just the bee's knees at social events. And then they look over at me, and I'm all, "human genetics, yo" and a few things happen.

For one, the conversation tends to come to a complete stop. It's actually a great talent of mine, to bring happy light-hearted conversations to a screeching halt. I'm kind of awkward. This happens for one of two reasons. One, people just don't understand or relate. Even if people can't relate to social work, they can understand what a social worker does. You help people. That's awesome. What does a scientist do? Crickets. The second thing that happens, which I'm wildly trying to prevent, is people are intimidated. You do science?? You must be smart. At this point I just want to pull out my GPA and be like, "See? See that GPA barely floating above a 3?? And that's really only because I padded it with my creative writing classes!" On the vast spectrum of biology majors, I'm definitely on the lower end.

I tend to lean towards the more awkward side of social situations. I'm kind of quiet around new people, and I get slight social anxiety in big groups. Luckily, because I am (sort of, pretending to be) a scientist, I adapt very quickly to new situations. Here are some tips that I use to deal:

  1. Alcohol helps. Alcohol helps all social situations. After a beer or two, it's way easier to introduce yourself and unstressfully describe what you do. 
  2. Make it understandable. This is easier in the human genetics field. I now open with the disease I work on, even though in reality it's secondary to the genetics and the biology I do. I'll usually tack on "genetics", but sometimes I'll skip straight to saying, "I'm studying autism." If you work on chromosome segregation in yeast (Hi Dad!) (And that's even the dumbed down version), and there's no prayer in getting someone to understand what you do, go straight to the disease. "Understanding the mechanisms that cause cancer" works. Cancer! Down Syndrome! etc. 
  3. Make it relatable. Sometimes people just honestly want to know what you do every day. A lot of people's science experience stops at high school, and some people have vague recollections of using pipets or microscopes. If you take pictures of things on microscopes, say that. I've been differentiating neurons from neuronal stem cells lately, and sometimes I'll say, "I'm growing neurons." That's cool. I tend to not mention stem cells, especially at weddings or if I don't know the people very well, because sometimes that gets you to a political discussion. Unless you're into that, of course, then by all means, go ahead.
  4. Just relax and be yourself. I love what I do. It's why I'm doing it. And if you just forget that you might come off as intimidating or weird or nerdy for a minute, and you just try to convey that you love science, and the creativity, the flexibility, the constant discovery, people will be able to relate to that. Sometimes I just say that my job is awesome because it's so conducive to having a kid. I can make my own hours, and be ready for sick days and teacher work days. My lab isn't too competitive, and everyone has a wide variety of interests. And I love it here. And remembering that you love what you do, well, that's the greatest confidence boost you can get. 
So, young padawan, in conclusion, go boldly in to non-scientific social situations. And when in doubt, remember, you're curing cancer. 

Monday, June 20, 2011

Monday morning

So I get this email from my post doc at 9:30 on Monday morning.

Hey there, I'm working from home today, but I'm going to be talking to [The Big Boss Man aka the PI] so could you please send me some info on what has been accomplished on your end this week. 
...
It's Monday morning! At 9:30! The only thing I have accomplished so far has been turning on my computer, discovering that Chrome was running a little slow, and clearing out my cache.

It's Monday people, let's all act accordingly.