CAT 125 Essay - part 3
This post is part of an on-going series on my CAT 125 project.
Check the introductory post here for more details.
(continuing from part 2)
(to be continued...)
Posts from the CAT 125 Series
- Written Abstract
- Visual Abstract
- Essay part 1
- Essay part 2
- Essay part 3
- Essay part 4
- Essay part 5 (end)
Check the introductory post here for more details.
Rise and Fall – The Journey of a Scientist
or where I see myself in 30 years time
or where I see myself in 30 years time
(continuing from part 2)
From an undergraduate’s perspective, choosing the right professor to work with is akin to picking a single winning stock from the 3200+ companies listed on NASDAQ to invest your family fortune in – the plethora of options available will definitely overwhelm any newbie. As any stock analyst would advise, doing your homework before you invest any dollar is critical to getting good returns, even if the stock is widely recommended by everyone and their stockbroker. Big universities like UCSD hold hundreds of researchers in biology alone, each with wide-ranging abilities, areas of focus, and successes. Newcomers to the area, from fresh undergraduates to aspiring graduate students, have to attempt to sift out the genius from the mediocre and the inspirational leader from the slave driver. Big names famous globally for ground-breaking discoveries are often also infamous locally for demanding back-breaking work all the time from everyone. I decided to hit the grapevines to in search for the truth...
And I was shocked (and sorely disappointed) as a result. Insiders relate that Prof Q’s eye bags stemmed not solely from Toll, but mainly from worrying about the future of the lab he spent half a lifetime building up – Prof Q had failed to secure a critical grant that would have provided the lab enough money to last the next two years. Grants – judge, jury and executioner all rolled in one – provide much-needed capital to purchase daily research expendables and to pay the salary of everyone in the lab: from lab technicians, graduate students to post-doctoral researchers. Losing funding is academia’s equivalent of getting an F on your undergraduate transcript. On first glance, the rejection may just seem to be a small pothole in a long career. On a closer look, however, the rejection is also applied to the research problem submitted with the grant application that an investigator may have staked his future on investigating. Just as an F on an undergraduate transcript directly predicts a wrecked GPA that needs salvaging and a broken dream of attending medical school, the loss of funding in a lab almost directly implicates loss of job security, a broken reputation and an uncertain future for everyone related.
That weekend was simply terrible for me and my conscience. A part of me strongly supported working for Prof Q, a show of solidarity and support that he might need at this critical moment. And yet, the devil’s constant reminders of my own dreams of a bright future for myself seemed to all but hinge on my one decision at this moment. The long, painful weekend was totally wasted in an endless internal conflict, debating the pros and cons of possible outcomes. In the end, logic won over emotions (as it always does in everything I do): I would slink silently away like a coward and seek refuge in another lab. But before I could do that, I (unfortunately) had to face Prof Q, one last time, to return his lab keys before I could disappear from his life forever. That encounter turned out to be brief, and I honestly have no recollections of what exactly happened. All I know is that I successfully rid myself of the keys, and life goes on.
And I was shocked (and sorely disappointed) as a result. Insiders relate that Prof Q’s eye bags stemmed not solely from Toll, but mainly from worrying about the future of the lab he spent half a lifetime building up – Prof Q had failed to secure a critical grant that would have provided the lab enough money to last the next two years. Grants – judge, jury and executioner all rolled in one – provide much-needed capital to purchase daily research expendables and to pay the salary of everyone in the lab: from lab technicians, graduate students to post-doctoral researchers. Losing funding is academia’s equivalent of getting an F on your undergraduate transcript. On first glance, the rejection may just seem to be a small pothole in a long career. On a closer look, however, the rejection is also applied to the research problem submitted with the grant application that an investigator may have staked his future on investigating. Just as an F on an undergraduate transcript directly predicts a wrecked GPA that needs salvaging and a broken dream of attending medical school, the loss of funding in a lab almost directly implicates loss of job security, a broken reputation and an uncertain future for everyone related.
That weekend was simply terrible for me and my conscience. A part of me strongly supported working for Prof Q, a show of solidarity and support that he might need at this critical moment. And yet, the devil’s constant reminders of my own dreams of a bright future for myself seemed to all but hinge on my one decision at this moment. The long, painful weekend was totally wasted in an endless internal conflict, debating the pros and cons of possible outcomes. In the end, logic won over emotions (as it always does in everything I do): I would slink silently away like a coward and seek refuge in another lab. But before I could do that, I (unfortunately) had to face Prof Q, one last time, to return his lab keys before I could disappear from his life forever. That encounter turned out to be brief, and I honestly have no recollections of what exactly happened. All I know is that I successfully rid myself of the keys, and life goes on.
(to be continued...)
Posts from the CAT 125 Series
- Written Abstract
- Visual Abstract
- Essay part 1
- Essay part 2
- Essay part 3
- Essay part 4
- Essay part 5 (end)
