Tell It Like It Is

As my previous blog posts have revealed, I discovered my inner sassy scientist in the supportive, encouraging atmosphere of a community college which I will forever hold near and dear to my heart. When it was time to leave the safety of my community college so that I could continue my education, I decided to transfer to Small Town University because I was enticed by the illusion that the two schools would offer similar atmospheres. While I had gained much confidence during my time at community college, I feared throwing myself into the cutthroat atmosphere of a large research university. I was fooled into thinking that at a smaller school without graduate students, professors would be focused on teaching and mentoring. I didn’t expect to be treated like a baby. I knew that nobody was going to hold my hand the whole way. However, I did expect that the professors would care about my success and see me as a valuable student. I came to them with excellent grades, internship experience in my field, a Science Student of the Year award, and a false belief that all these things would be viewed as impressive.

There are a couple of professors at Small Town University’s chemistry department who did care and to them I am grateful. Unfortunately, their attitude is not a shared one. It wasn’t long before the sales pitch that I fell for was eroded by the truth. I quickly learned that I had not escaped my fears. I was faced with being in courses where the average on an exam is in the 40% range. I dealt with being advised to take a course load that by any standards would be next to impossible to complete successfully. I had to interact with a chemistry stockroom manager who thought it was his duty to protect the chemistry supplies by blaming the students for breaking everything (I paid my lab fees… this is college, shit breaks!). As my grades began to plummet, I began to be confronted with comments about “weeding myself out” and “not belonging in the department”. And then, there was the blatant, without a doubt, complete sexist treatment that occurred right in front of my face. I couldn’t take it. Call me a quitter, but I know my limits. I knew that I could not stay in that atmosphere and remain mentally and physically healthy. So I ran. I changed majors. I refused to retake the courses I received D’s and F’s in because I couldn’t bear to face those people again.

And then there is my friend whom we will refer to as Z. Both Z and I transferred to Small Town University’s chemistry department at the same time. Z transferred from a different community college but our stories are similar. We are both the same age and we both overcame difficult life circumstances before finding our passion for science. Z, however, is not a force to be reckoned with. Unlike me, she refused to let the unsupportive atmosphere at Small Town University stop her. We spent a year together in the chemistry department and the following year she stayed while I made my way to the biology department. She retook the courses that she did poorly in and received better grades. This marks her third and final year at Small Town University. She is graduating from the chemistry department (WITH HONORS!!! TAKE THAT!) and was just accepted into a HIGHLY competitive Ph.D. program where she will be doing the research of her dreams. This entire time she has put up with all sorts of stuff that I won’t go into detail about. Not only has she prevailed, she is going to do what nobody else has had the guts to do: she is going to speak up about the unfair treatment that certain students (such as herself) have had to endure.
I’m ok with my decision. I had to do what was best for me and I will make the best of it. But words can’t express how proud I am of Z. I wish I was as strong as her but knowing that someone is speaking up, even if it’s not me, makes me breathe easier.

Scientific Method vs. Love

When you are a scientist, the way you analyze an experiment tends to be the way you analyze the world. You can’t help it. That is the way your brain works. I would argue that my neurons have been firing this way long before I took my first science course. I am analytical and logical. I make many observations before coming to opinions. I crave the facts. I need the evidence. I was applying the scientific method to explain the world around me before I knew that such a thing existed. Yes, taking science courses will strengthen these traits. But, it wasn’t science that made me this way. Rather, my brain happened to be wired in a way that made me a good candidate for pursuing science.

My point is that I tend to automatically apply the scientific method to EVERYTHING in my life. Life is much more complex than a lab. And by life, I don’t mean cells. I’m talking about our daily interactions with other humans and all the messy emotions that come with being human. Life is complicated and there are a zillion variables (more, I’m sure). Science can explain quite a bit about our lives, but then there are those abstract, hard to explain concepts that really can’t be completely explained by science. Say for instance….LOVE. I mean, what is love? Now there is a messy, complicated subject if I ever heard of one. First of all, love has so many different definitions. Let’s focus on just one type of love: the love people have for their romantic partners.

My rational self wants to say that love doesn’t exist in the way that most humans believe it to exist. Love is just a term that was created to describe the release of euphoria inducing chemicals in the brain upon partnering with a sexually attractive mate. Our society makes us believe that we are supposed to go out in the world as adults, fall in “love”, and then commit ourselves to the love of our lives forever. That makes no sense. Most animals are not monogamous and it sure doesn’t appear that humans were designed to be that way. Monogamous relationships, marriage, life partnerships….. these are all things that seem to go against our biology. I say: down with love. At least, that is what I tell myself.

Then there is the part I can’t explain with science: all the knowledge in the world doesn’t make me stop wanting someone to love me and me only. If men are programmed to go out and spread their energetically inexpensive genetic material and women are programmed to go through lots of men in order to find the best genes to pair with their energetically expensive genetic material, then why don’t our emotions match our biology? Is it because we believe in a fantasy and are continually disappointed when the fantasy doesn’t work out? If this is the case, then why does someone like me, someone who “knows the truth about love” still find themselves feeling love or feeling pain and hurt when their partner is not monogamous? I mean, how is loving someone so much that you would take a bullet for them evolutionarily advantageous? It’s not.

I’ve decided that maybe love is something that the scientific method should not be applied to, for the sake of my mental health. I guess even scientists need that fluffy, abstract, strange concept we call love.

America's Next Top Model or America's Next Top Scientist?

A woman I work with recently asked me why I don't just become a model since I can't get a job in biology. I laughed.

Here is what I should have said:

This brain is not model material but I am flattered that you think the rest of me is. In other words, thanks but no thanks. Not to mention, I'm 5'7" not 5'11" and I'm a size 2 not a size 0. Oh yeah, and also, I didn't almost die of anorexia and then fight for my life just so I could throw myself into a tank full of cracked out anorexic and bulimic models.

I know I should be thankful that the woman thinks I'm pretty enough to be a model (I don't!) but the comment really is sad when you think about it.

B.S. or BS?

Well, I did it. I have a fancy piece of paper sitting in an envelope on my desk which says that I have a B.S. in biology. There are times when I feel this piece of paper is useless and I dismiss its significance. After all, I have spent the past several months dealing with rejection after rejection. I have yet to find a job in science and am living paycheck to paycheck on a meager hourly wage doing a job that is not at all related to my field of study. Don't take it personally they say, it's just the recession.

This past week I interviewed for a position as an office specialist. The woman conducting the interview has a nursing degree and yet had the audacity to ask, "What does one do with a biology degree anyway?" Seriously? In the words of my soul sister Alanis Morissette: Isn't it ironic? I give up nursing to risk failure and do things for myself that I never thought I could do only to graduate and have a nurse ask me what good my science degree is? Needless to say, I did not get the position. It's probably for the best.

While my inclination is to curl up in the fetal position under my down covers, drink beer all day, and admit failure in science, I have to keep fighting. Truth be told, I cried when my diploma arrived in the mail. That piece of paper is a symbol of all I have fought to overcome and all the people who helped me along the way. It's not meaningless. I have to remember that every time I feel defeated...... if I don't know how meaningful that degree is, then I sure as hell can't convince anyone else.

I may be working in a bookstore, but I am still a sassy scientist and there is a place for me out there in this big world. I just have to get up from underneath my down covers and keep looking.