Wednesday, October 4, 2017 // The Statement
6B
Personal Statement: A graduate student’s quarter-life 
crisis
“

What do you want 
to be when you 
grow up?”

This is a pretty 

common question 

for kids, but to someone who 
is almost 30? Actually, I often 
ask myself that same question, 
although in a slightly different 
way: What do I want to do 
with my life?

My career trajectory has 

never been linear. My goals 
changed constantly growing, 
shifting 
from 
actress 
to 

physician 
and 
everything 

in between. I started out 
as a pre-med biology major 
while an undergrad because I 
liked biology and I liked how 
medicine could make positive 
contributions to the society. 
But after researching at a 
plant pathology lab during my 
sophomore year, I realized 
I liked asking questions and 
finding answers in a lab more 
than learning from lectures. 
I was no longer looking up 
information about MCATs 
and 
medical 
schools 
but 

instead looking into doctoral 
programs and taking as many 
advanced, 
more 
focused 

biology classes to try to find 
my niche in biology. Of all 
branches in biology, genetics 
interested me the most, and 
so I decided to apply and join 
the Department of Human 
Genetics at the University of 
Michigan.

I thought: The decision 

was a drastic change in my 
plans, and I was set for life. 
All I needed to worry about 
was doing great science, and 
I would get to where I want 
to be. But like many things 
in life, it turns out you don’t 
really learn what a specific 
job entails until you’re fully 
immersed in it.

As a graduate student, I am 

expected to do much more 
than work on my thesis. I had 
two years of classes before I 
could even obtain my Ph.D. 
candidacy 
and 
work 
full 

time on my thesis. Achieving 
candidacy 
marks 
the 

transition between learning 
about your field from lectures 
to producing a body of cutting-

edge work to push the field 
forward.

Becoming a Ph.D. candidate 

is not an easy feat. For my 
department, students have 
to write a six-page grant 
proposal 
answering 
a 

question that is unrelated 
to their thesis projects. We 
have about a month to do 
background research, write a 
proposal and present 
the 
hypothetical 

project to five faculty 
members, who then 
grill us with questions 
for two hours before 
concluding whether a 
student is competent 
enough to pursue the 
track. I passed, but 
it is still a mystery to 
me how I survived 
the process without 
quitting or breaking 
down (although I did 
have a couple of panic 
attacks). 
Looking 

back, I think what 
got me through was 
the hope that I could 
finally work on my 
thesis project after 
this grueling process.

But after finally 

becoming 
a 
Ph.D. 

candidate, 
other 

obligations 
ensued: 

departmental 
activities 
like 

seminars, 
retreats 

and 
new 
student 

recruitment, 
fellowship 
applications, 
conferences, 
meetings 
with 
faculty 

members, and training junior 
lab members. With these 
overwhelming administrative 
tasks and other non-thesis-
related obligations, I simply 
did not feel as if I were in 
school 
to 
ask 
questions, 

perform 
experiments 
and 

learn science anymore. Most of 
all, I felt extremely uninspired. 
Doing research became more 
tolerable as I became more 
used to the system, but that 
was it — a tolerable day job. I 
felt like a robot.

In the middle of my third 

year, I began exploring career 

options outside academia. I 
evaluated why I was unhappy. 
First, I was expected to work 
on only a couple of projects 
for almost six years. Second, 
I was too focused on one 
specific topic — I was actually 
interested in many different 
topics in biology, not just one. 
My thesis project is about how 
cells minimize DNA errors, 

but I’m interested in other 
branches of biology too, like 
neuroscience. For instance, 
I love coffee, so I’ve written 
a couple times about how 
caffeine affects the brain. Last, 
I felt awfully isolated since 
only a few people in the world 
fully understand my thesis 
project. When work is such a 
big part of my life, not being 
able to talk about and share the 
same enthusiasm with most 
people is quite depressing.

One 
alternative 
route 

I thought of was science 
writing, specifically writing 
for the public. Writing has a 

shorter timeline — I can write 
about many different scientific 
topics, not just on topics that 
pertain to my thesis project. 
And my work will be read 
and understood by more than 
just a few. Plus, I’ve always 
liked writing and I’d begun to 
realize the growing need for 
clear, accurate and engaging 
science to general audiences. 

This is especially true now, as 
“alternative” and nonscientific 
facts (i.e., false statements) 
are readily accepted: climate 
change 
denial, 
the 
anti-

vaccine 
movement, 
GMO 

fearmongering and even the 
faux benefits of a gluten-free 
diet.

Even though Ph.D.-holders 

are pursuing nonacademic 
careers 
at 
an 
increasing 

rate, 
many 
programs 

are 
unequipped 
— 
even 

unsupportive — of students 
making 
that 
transition. 
I 

have sent countless emails 
to people I’d never even met 

at the University to see if 
they knew anything about 
science 
writing. 
While 

many responses were rather 
supportive (“It’s great to see a 
scientist interested in science 
writing!”), most couldn’t help 
(“But I know nothing about 
the field, so I cannot help you. 
Sorry!”).

The 
help 
came 
from 

somewhere 
unexpected. 
A friend of 
mine, whom 
I met during 
a 
graduate 

school 
interview, 
quit 
school 

to 
pursue 

science 
writing 
full 

time 
as 
a 

freelancer. 
We’d kept in 
contact 
on 

social media 
even 
after 

the interview, 
and when she 
saw 
several 

statuses 
about 
my 

quarter-life 
crisis, 
she 

contacted 
me. We had a 
conversation 
over 
Facebook 
and 
email, 

and I decided 
to give it one 
last try — I 
cold-emailed 

one more person, the current 
summer 
managing 
news 

editor at The Michigan Daily.

Since 
then, 
I’ve 
been 

involved with the Daily for 
almost two-and-a-half years 
as a news reporter and editor. 
Before I decided to leave to 
focus on my thesis project, 
I covered a broad range of 
topics 
from 
cutting-edge 

cancer research to a candlelit 
Black Lives Matter vigil at 
the Diag. I also helped launch 
MiSciWriters, 
a 
student 

organization that focuses on 
science writing and maintains 
a blog for trainees to practice 

writing and editing about 
science 
accessible 
to 
the 

public.

Some graduate students 

have told me that I am 
courageous (or insane — I’ve 
heard both) since being a 
graduate student is more 
than a full-time job, and being 
involved in extracurricular 
activities does not help me 
complete my thesis. But these 
extracurricular 
activities 

offered me one big component 
that scientific research alone 
cannot offer: people.

Scientists are people; we 

have to deal with human 
problems during our research 
— having other obligations 
outside work and school, 
getting sick, making mistakes, 
and having feelings and bias. 
Perhaps what really excites 
me about science writing is 
the opportunity to develop 
and hone my people skills 
on the job — the ability to 
share cool scientific facts, 
start 
discussions 
about 

controversial topics in science 
and portray scientists as 
people with feelings and 
problems, not callous robots.

I’ve met many fantastic 

people 
in 
my 
effort 
to 

transition into writing from 
academia, and they are the 
driving 
force 
behind 
my 

thesis 
work. 
Sometimes 

hearing supportive words or 
talking to inspiring people 
motivates me more than 
seeing numbers on an excel 
sheet. Documentaries, books, 
shows and other forms of 
storytelling inspired me to go 
into science — not numbers or 
graphs.

What do I want to be when I 

am done with my Ph.D.? What 
do I want to do for rest of my 
life? If you really think about it, 
the two questions are the same. 
We don’t expect an answer like 
“I want to be a good person” 
to either question. Instead, 
we expect to hear specific 
careers. But if you ask me right 
now, I can’t give you a normal 
answer. I don’t know what 
specific position I want, but I 
know I want to feel a little more 
human.

by Irene Park, Daily Staff Reporter

PHOTO COURTESY OF IRENE PARK

