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