New year, new me? Maybe not this time…
I am an optimist by nature, and
not often plagued by regret. Yet, every year as the clock strikes midnight on
Dec 31st, I ponder what I might have done differently in the past year
and how I will change for the better – especially in regard to my scientific
life.
To be fair, I don’t have such a
bad life. My job lets me try anything I want, in terms of Hematology, or at
least have my lab members consider whether it is doable or financially
feasible. I can hypothesize and fantasize about how things work, and see if I
was right, or wrong, and at the end of the day either answer is actually OK. I
get to travel the world to go to meetings to talk about our science, and meet
amazing people. I set my own hours, and despite them always falling well above
the imaginary 40-hour norm, I enjoy going to work. I have a family that likes
me, and still (thankfully) wants to spend time with me, despite my crazy
schedule that is somehow both planned out a year in advance and still
simultaneously consistently unpredictable. But, probably like so many of you,
as the year comes to a close, I am more than a bit worn down. I have agonized
over the wording of a particular paragraph that sums up my entire 5-year research
plan (what plan?) into 250 words or less, stayed up late to find 87 more
characters to cut from a manuscript, distressed about how to pay for my lab
members, and pondered at the reasons that people seem to like our work in
abstract form (thank you!), but not necessarily as a grant proposal.
A new year is a fresh start. Aside
of the standard resolutions to eat better and find time to get in shape, I
usually vow to say “No” to all the things I volunteer to lead/participate
in/cover for others that eat up my time. I promise to start grants months ahead
of the due dates and ask people for letters well in advance of the submission
deadlines, rather than the evening before. I will definitely catch up on
reading all the papers that came out in the last 3 to 6 (OK, maybe 9) months
that are relevant to my research interests. I commit to use my calendar to organize
my life so I will not feel like I am constantly catching up, rather than
leading the way. I pledge to be on top of all the projects in the lab and
notice as soon as things start to go awry, and I will have the solution to fix
it.
Yet, as is probably obvious from
that not so short to do list, it isn’t going to happen, at least not in its
entirety. So maybe instead of this being the year when I do everything perfect – the year when all the pieces fall into place and I receive a Nobel prize AND a
generous benefactor, the year when all my papers are accepted on the first
submission (does that ever happen?) – I will make this the year to be realistic.
Sometimes people will like my science, and sometimes they won’t. And I will
take their criticisms as constructive (hoping that they are) and not dwell any
perceived animosity. I will write letters of recommendation and support as soon
as I am asked, so its off my plate, and helps them out, and know they will do
the same for me when I ask at the last minute. I will tell people- not just
think it- when they give a great talk, or present a cool story. I will accept
offers of assistance without questioning motive, or being stressed about why
they think I need it. I will be honest when I am frustrated or confused by data
or a review, and I will try not to always burden the same people with
complaints, or if I do, I promise to be their everlasting sounding board. I
will be candid when reviewing papers or grants, but not cranky, and I will try
to be helpful, not just critical. I will be focused and productive in lab, but
willing to admit defeat and go grab an ice cream, on occasion (see eating
better, above). I will try to remember that my students, postdocs and
colleagues have a life outside of lab, and sometimes need a break, and hope
that they give me that same consideration. I will celebrate the good news – big
time – with food, toasts and cheer. And I will keep going. I will work hard and it
will work out. It’s actually fun. I’m lucky. I will make myself remember
that and let it be the focus this year. To those who share my struggles,
let’s make 2016 the year of no regrets, for all of us.
Trista E. North, PhD
Chair, ISEH Publications Committee
Associate Professor of Pathology
Harvard Medical School
Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center
Boston, MA USA
Chair, ISEH Publications Committee
Associate Professor of Pathology
Harvard Medical School
Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center
Boston, MA USA
Comments
Post a Comment