One of my best friends in grad school was an American guy, very smart, worldly, and wickedly funny. He was a joy to be around and had lots of friends, and he alone is probably to be thanked for half of my current idiom vocabulary. He also happened to be fairly short and often complained about difficulties with dating -- how many women would not even consider him seriously because of his height (he is now happily married, with kids). He also often spoke about how he felt that his height had caused him a lot of grief growing up and made him the object of bullying.
My friend was treated very badly by his PhD advisor: the advisor would dismiss my friend's work and berate him, yell and make fun of him in front of the group. My friend was quite traumatized by the whole graduate school experience but managed to get his PhD and not look back. We talked about it on occasion, and he basically said that his advisor bullied him just like he had been bullied in middle and high school, and that it was all because he was short.
I thought of my friend again after reading this comment on YFS blog. Basically, YFS indicated that, in her experience, taller women have to put up with less sexist behavior than shorter women, because men don't expect to easily intimidate them, and also that shorter men are given a hard time by taller ones.
So how much of a bearing does one's height have on one's professional relationships and career? Clearly, height has nothing to do with one's intellect, but if it does affect interpersonal professional relationships in a systematic manner, then by extension it will affect one's career.
I remember one faculty candidate we interviewed a few years back. He ended up not getting an offer, but every single person commented on how tall he was (over 6'5" for sure). So apparently this was something people certainly noticed when they first met him, although I don't think it influenced the hiring decision.
On the other hand, one of the most impressive scientists in my field is a man with very small stature. He's perfectly kind, but can be quite blunt and completely no-BS when it comes to technical issues. He is entirely awe-provoking and it is very hard to imagine that anyone would be able to intimidate this man.
For women, the issue of small stature, on average, is difficult to decouple from the overall condition of being female, and I have read multiple places that it plays into the overall perceived inferiority of women. One anecdote I can think of has to do with my good friend who's in a different department. We started at the same time and bonded over new faculty luncheons in our early years. She's very sharp, assertive, and successful, and also happens to be girly and petite. She gets a lot of sexist remarks and gets hit on by students and colleagues, so her academic life can be quite uncomfortable. A particularly annoying colleague is an old faculty member who keeps calling her "little lady". She said several times "If I were 6' tall, he would not be calling me little lady." That's probably true, although I think he would probably be using some other cutesy name to talk down to her anyway: as per FSP's related post, a 6 ft female friend (who was born a man and underwent a sex-change surgery) gets talked down to as a woman, despite her height.
So, dear readers, do you feel that height has a systematic effect on one's professional relationships and career? How does the issue of above-average or below-average height play into the careers of members of underrepresented groups, who face multiple unconscious biases and stereotypes? If you are taller or shorted than the average for your gender, has that helped or hurt your career or have you found it to be largely irrelevant?
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday Night Gratuitous Rant
There are several reasons that made me start blogging. One was to share some of the hard-earned wisdom as a hard-STEM faculty over the tenure hump. Another was to connect with people whose lives and interests are similar to mine. But perhaps the most important reason is that I simply thought writing would make me feel better.
The last one hasn't really panned out, perhaps because I let the advice-giving know-it-all set the tone for the blog. So I actually censor myself as though I owe something to my ivory-tower cruising, advice-dispensing GMP persona. She's quite a lady, isn't she? Well, fuck her.
So I am warning you: the following is a rant. There will be some profanity. Stop here if you visit this blog for my academic pearls of wisdom and do not care to gaze into my navel with me. What I will write next is not balanced or well-thought out and is written solely for the purpose of venting. If you end up disappointed, appalled, or offended, don't say I didn't warn you.
Here's the deal: I have a wonderful family, the job I always wanted, security in every aspect of my life. And I am miserable most of the time. What the fuck is wrong with me? The Web says it's burnout.
I actually am so bored by my job that I want to cry. Or pull my brain out so I would not be so goddamn bored any more. I do a lot of "service" collaborative projects where my expertise is needed and appreciated, these papers are read and respected, but I am soooooo bored by all of it. Bored by what other people care about. Bored by what the rest of my scientific community cares about. WHO CARES ABOUT ALL THAT SHIT?! BOOOOOOORING!
I have some 10 students who all hold on to my skirt; there is nobody with similar expertise in the whole university, so I have to teach them every single thing they need to know in order to get things done. So I am into the nitty-gritty details of every single project. Yes I have a postdoc, but he's not much help really; he's basically another senior student. And senior students are not as good at transmitting knowledge to junior ones as they ideally would be, because they are kids and they want to get out of here. Have I mentioned that there is no one with the same expertise? Ironically, that's why I accepted the offer from this university when I was job hunting -- no one here who did what I did, and plenty of opportunities for collaboration. You know what -- I was oh so right. All these opportunities for collaboration panned out. And then some. So be careful what you wish for, 'cause you might just get it. I sure did.
I went on vacation, and of course all hell broke loose. I have so much work piled on that I want to strangle someone. I can never go anywhere. If I go away from family, I kill myself cooking for the week ahead, making sure everyone's laundry is done, that all forms have been filled out, playdates scheduled.
If I am away from my group or my work, I come back to a pile of stuck students and a shitton of paperwork. All these papers that need to be looked over, white papers for the gazzillion of impending proposals, abstracts, paperwork for students who came back from conferences... And always at least 2 or 3 papers being written.
And there are the collaborators. They are the most fuckin' exhausting of all. I wish we'd move from the same old, same old, and do something exciting and new for a change. Sooooo fuckin' booooooooored. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
And don't get me started with hype. Everyone in my field (at least people considered successful) is a hopeless slave to funding. Which means this: Nature or Science publishes a paper with some earthshattering measurements. Everybody and their brother drop everything that they have been doing and jump on the new shiny object.
Funding agencies funnel all the money into the promising topic, the funding milieu changes significantly. You cannot afford not to flock to the hot new thing as that is where all the money is. For several years people try to repeat the hyped experiment or actually materialize on some of the promises put forth; after a number of students and postdocs working around the clock throughout the world keep failing for years, the truth starts to emerge: the hyped experiment had a flaw -- usually a too liberal/optimistic interpretation of measurement -- and the fabled effect is nonexistent or much more modest. And yeah, in the meantime a number of important but less flashy problems are abandoned and underfunded while everyone is busy being hypnotized by the shiny new shittopic.
So the job is a giant downer, all the time. And it affects my family life. Which is quite demanding. And have I told you we get no breaks? I am not comfortable about babysitters so we never go anywhere without kids. Never. Ever.
Yes I am burned out. But, if you are going to tell me to eat right, get plenty of rest, cut back on work, and exercise, I want to tell you straight up to go fuck yourself. I am exhausted, I am not mentally challenged; I can google too. Unless you are going to come babysit for me while I cook or do dishes or (gasp!) go to the gym, you cannot give me advice on how to relax.
People constantly want stuff from me, from all directions -- my husband, my kids, my students, my collaborators. No one ever leaves me the fuck alone. Which would be OK if I could recharge by lying on the beach alone sipping a cocktail (never happens) or doing interesting work. Except that I cannot, because I am completely enslaved by stupid uninspiring collaborative projects and the need to perpetually go after new funding. There is no fun left. The stuff I like to do I never have the time for, and there is no money for it. Yes, I play the academic game well, but my neurons are dying along the way -- being faculty makes me more and more stupid at actually doing science. On the upside, my plan to get an ulcer in my late 30's is going just swimmingly.
So there. I actually do feel a bit better... No, not really.
Oh, yeah. If you are going to tell me I am a whiny spoiled little bitch who has everything and is so self-absorbed that she does not appreciate what she has and is thus a despicable ingrate, get in line. I was the first one there.
The last one hasn't really panned out, perhaps because I let the advice-giving know-it-all set the tone for the blog. So I actually censor myself as though I owe something to my ivory-tower cruising, advice-dispensing GMP persona. She's quite a lady, isn't she? Well, fuck her.
So I am warning you: the following is a rant. There will be some profanity. Stop here if you visit this blog for my academic pearls of wisdom and do not care to gaze into my navel with me. What I will write next is not balanced or well-thought out and is written solely for the purpose of venting. If you end up disappointed, appalled, or offended, don't say I didn't warn you.
Here's the deal: I have a wonderful family, the job I always wanted, security in every aspect of my life. And I am miserable most of the time. What the fuck is wrong with me? The Web says it's burnout.
I actually am so bored by my job that I want to cry. Or pull my brain out so I would not be so goddamn bored any more. I do a lot of "service" collaborative projects where my expertise is needed and appreciated, these papers are read and respected, but I am soooooo bored by all of it. Bored by what other people care about. Bored by what the rest of my scientific community cares about. WHO CARES ABOUT ALL THAT SHIT?! BOOOOOOORING!
I have some 10 students who all hold on to my skirt; there is nobody with similar expertise in the whole university, so I have to teach them every single thing they need to know in order to get things done. So I am into the nitty-gritty details of every single project. Yes I have a postdoc, but he's not much help really; he's basically another senior student. And senior students are not as good at transmitting knowledge to junior ones as they ideally would be, because they are kids and they want to get out of here. Have I mentioned that there is no one with the same expertise? Ironically, that's why I accepted the offer from this university when I was job hunting -- no one here who did what I did, and plenty of opportunities for collaboration. You know what -- I was oh so right. All these opportunities for collaboration panned out. And then some. So be careful what you wish for, 'cause you might just get it. I sure did.
I went on vacation, and of course all hell broke loose. I have so much work piled on that I want to strangle someone. I can never go anywhere. If I go away from family, I kill myself cooking for the week ahead, making sure everyone's laundry is done, that all forms have been filled out, playdates scheduled.
If I am away from my group or my work, I come back to a pile of stuck students and a shitton of paperwork. All these papers that need to be looked over, white papers for the gazzillion of impending proposals, abstracts, paperwork for students who came back from conferences... And always at least 2 or 3 papers being written.
And there are the collaborators. They are the most fuckin' exhausting of all. I wish we'd move from the same old, same old, and do something exciting and new for a change. Sooooo fuckin' booooooooored. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
And don't get me started with hype. Everyone in my field (at least people considered successful) is a hopeless slave to funding. Which means this: Nature or Science publishes a paper with some earthshattering measurements. Everybody and their brother drop everything that they have been doing and jump on the new shiny object.
Funding agencies funnel all the money into the promising topic, the funding milieu changes significantly. You cannot afford not to flock to the hot new thing as that is where all the money is. For several years people try to repeat the hyped experiment or actually materialize on some of the promises put forth; after a number of students and postdocs working around the clock throughout the world keep failing for years, the truth starts to emerge: the hyped experiment had a flaw -- usually a too liberal/optimistic interpretation of measurement -- and the fabled effect is nonexistent or much more modest. And yeah, in the meantime a number of important but less flashy problems are abandoned and underfunded while everyone is busy being hypnotized by the shiny new shittopic.
So the job is a giant downer, all the time. And it affects my family life. Which is quite demanding. And have I told you we get no breaks? I am not comfortable about babysitters so we never go anywhere without kids. Never. Ever.
Yes I am burned out. But, if you are going to tell me to eat right, get plenty of rest, cut back on work, and exercise, I want to tell you straight up to go fuck yourself. I am exhausted, I am not mentally challenged; I can google too. Unless you are going to come babysit for me while I cook or do dishes or (gasp!) go to the gym, you cannot give me advice on how to relax.
People constantly want stuff from me, from all directions -- my husband, my kids, my students, my collaborators. No one ever leaves me the fuck alone. Which would be OK if I could recharge by lying on the beach alone sipping a cocktail (never happens) or doing interesting work. Except that I cannot, because I am completely enslaved by stupid uninspiring collaborative projects and the need to perpetually go after new funding. There is no fun left. The stuff I like to do I never have the time for, and there is no money for it. Yes, I play the academic game well, but my neurons are dying along the way -- being faculty makes me more and more stupid at actually doing science. On the upside, my plan to get an ulcer in my late 30's is going just swimmingly.
So there. I actually do feel a bit better... No, not really.
Oh, yeah. If you are going to tell me I am a whiny spoiled little bitch who has everything and is so self-absorbed that she does not appreciate what she has and is thus a despicable ingrate, get in line. I was the first one there.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Unplugged
I just came back from a vacation with my family. This was meant to be the time for some family fun, relaxation, and, most of all, not working.
Yeah, right.
While I dutifully activated my extended absence voicemail greeting and an "Out of Office" automatic email response, and could have therefore easily disconnected from the mother ship, I did not do so. In reality, I checked my work email several times a day. I reviewed 3 papers (only the most urgent ones though), several of my students' write-ups (various reports and abstracts), corresponded with two of my incoming graduate students about courses and paperwork, as well as reviewed final pre-submission versions of two manuscripts and one preproposal (a.k.a. white paper) on which I am a coauthor. Amidst all the frolicking in the pool and chasing my kids, I am also ashamed to say I spent a fair amount of time thinking about a proposal I need to submit shortly.
I totally have a workoholism problem. And perhaps an Internet addiction problem. It's hard to tell them apart, really.
Last year on vacation, I tried to wean myself completely: didn't bring my laptop and was determined to spend the entire vacation without checking my email even once. But doing so is like quitting smoking -- if those with whom you hang out smoke too, it is very hard to stop. I cannot get my husband to go Internet-free for any significant amount of time. He is not crazy about checking work email, but he plays online games and is a much more eclectic surfer than I am; at the end of the day, most of what I think, write, and surf about is science: doing science, funding science, being a woman in science... My name is GMP and I am a workaholic. And a dork.
My last-year's attempt to go unplugged bombed. I first cheated with a prehistoric computer I found next to the reception desk -- no doubt for the likes of me suffering from web withdrawal. After a few days of sneaking to the reception, I gave in, admitted failure to unplug to the world -- i.e., to my husband, who then gave me a smug "I told you so" -- and I demanded time on the hubby's laptop.
This year I didn't even attempt a reprise of the "Great Vacation Unplugging", as I knew I couldn't do it. However, I was hoping that spending time with the kids and plenty of books would be enough to help me detach. I spent a lot of time with the kids and loved it, but a number of kid-centric activities such as diaper changing, fixing meals, or watching Spongebob reruns are mind-numbing, so I was free to engage in pursuits of the mind in the background. None of the books, which all came highly recommended, were able to completely captivate me. So I ended up spending a lot of time thinking about work and doing work...
Anyone else out there suffering from inability to detach from work? Or simple email addiction? My guess is these are quite widespread and often interwoven. I invite you to share some of your best practices for getting unplugged and recharging. (Isn't it ironic how "recharging" requires one to "unplug"?)
Do you think a constant focus on work gives you an edge over the peers who get to relax? Or is it, beyond a shadow of a doubt, nothing more than a one-way ticket to Burnoutville?
Yeah, right.
While I dutifully activated my extended absence voicemail greeting and an "Out of Office" automatic email response, and could have therefore easily disconnected from the mother ship, I did not do so. In reality, I checked my work email several times a day. I reviewed 3 papers (only the most urgent ones though), several of my students' write-ups (various reports and abstracts), corresponded with two of my incoming graduate students about courses and paperwork, as well as reviewed final pre-submission versions of two manuscripts and one preproposal (a.k.a. white paper) on which I am a coauthor. Amidst all the frolicking in the pool and chasing my kids, I am also ashamed to say I spent a fair amount of time thinking about a proposal I need to submit shortly.
I totally have a workoholism problem. And perhaps an Internet addiction problem. It's hard to tell them apart, really.
Last year on vacation, I tried to wean myself completely: didn't bring my laptop and was determined to spend the entire vacation without checking my email even once. But doing so is like quitting smoking -- if those with whom you hang out smoke too, it is very hard to stop. I cannot get my husband to go Internet-free for any significant amount of time. He is not crazy about checking work email, but he plays online games and is a much more eclectic surfer than I am; at the end of the day, most of what I think, write, and surf about is science: doing science, funding science, being a woman in science... My name is GMP and I am a workaholic. And a dork.
My last-year's attempt to go unplugged bombed. I first cheated with a prehistoric computer I found next to the reception desk -- no doubt for the likes of me suffering from web withdrawal. After a few days of sneaking to the reception, I gave in, admitted failure to unplug to the world -- i.e., to my husband, who then gave me a smug "I told you so" -- and I demanded time on the hubby's laptop.
This year I didn't even attempt a reprise of the "Great Vacation Unplugging", as I knew I couldn't do it. However, I was hoping that spending time with the kids and plenty of books would be enough to help me detach. I spent a lot of time with the kids and loved it, but a number of kid-centric activities such as diaper changing, fixing meals, or watching Spongebob reruns are mind-numbing, so I was free to engage in pursuits of the mind in the background. None of the books, which all came highly recommended, were able to completely captivate me. So I ended up spending a lot of time thinking about work and doing work...
Anyone else out there suffering from inability to detach from work? Or simple email addiction? My guess is these are quite widespread and often interwoven. I invite you to share some of your best practices for getting unplugged and recharging. (Isn't it ironic how "recharging" requires one to "unplug"?)
Do you think a constant focus on work gives you an edge over the peers who get to relax? Or is it, beyond a shadow of a doubt, nothing more than a one-way ticket to Burnoutville?
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Accentuating Deflection
If you read this blog regularly, you probably know that I am originally from a small country in Europe. I have been in the US of A for 10+ years and I feel it is important that I constantly work on improving my English. However, since I came to the US as an adult, in my mid twenties, there are limits to how much of an accent I am bound to have, regardless of how hard I try to lose it (I heard the human speech apparatus is completely formed around the age of 12, making it hard to achieve perfect pronunciation in new languages thereafter).
Anyway, people who know me well tell me I have a light and ambiguous accent, as in -- people cannot decide where I am from based on my accent and that appears to bother them. The ambiguity certainly comes from me learning British English in school and then picking up American English at the different places I lived in the US, and all this within the rigid constraints of my decidedly mature speech apparatus.
So I have an accent; I would say that about 50% of people will ask me about it within the first 10 min of chatting. Of the other 50%, some notice it but don't care (for which I am grateful) and some simply think I am from another state in the US.
Anyway, I get asked "Where are you from?" a lot. I am sure most foreigners do. Now, I don' t particularly mind the question, especially if it comes up as part of an otherwise pleasant and meaningful conversation. I don't think the world owes it to me not to inconvenience me by the question; I will forever be asked because of my accent, and people are simply curious for the most part and don't mean anything, good or bad. But, as with anything that gets repeated ad nauseam, I get, well, nauseated with the question: sometimes I wish people would simply assume I am from wherever and spare me the inquiry. People say that a thicker, more regional accent might help there... Presently, I am working on my English with a Klingon accent.
Now, while anyone has the right to ask me where I am from and that's an inevitability I have to live with, I do not have be in the mood to discuss my roots at the drop of a hat, in particular when it's the people who happen to overhear me talking to someone else or people with whom I share a routine 10 second interaction. Therefore, the goal of this post is to explore how to best deflect the question "Where are you from?" when I am really not in the mood to reveal my origin to a complete stranger, and do so while minimally embarrassing the person who asked and preventing my day and his/her day from being ruined.
At present, I try to deflect these unwanted conversations by giving hints that I don't want to talk about it, but some people won't take a hint. So I need to get better at throwing hints, need better hints, or perhaps need to throw something more hefty in lieu of hints! :)
Here are a couple of recent examples of unsuccessful deflections.
Anecdote 1 (today, at the pool with family -- I am out of town on vacation this week)
I have been at the pool for 20 seconds and have exchanged 2 sentences with my son (all in English), to the effect of "Honey, no running around the pool," and "Come inside, the water is really great!" A woman sunbathing nearby decides to chime in
Woman: Where are you from?
GMP: We live in GMP Uni City.(Hint 1: I will pretend you are not asking what you are asking)
Woman: (obviously missing hint 1 or deciding her curiosity is more important)
Oh, no, I am asking because of your accent! (She is obviously thinking that having an accent is news to me and she needs to break it).
GMP: (rolling my eyes) I am from Europe. (Hint 2: I know what you are looking for but don't really want to go there)
Woman: (deciding she needs to know and obviously not taking hints) Yes, but where in Europe?
GMP: I am from a small country called GMP Wherefrom.
At this point comes the usual: her face shows that she has no freakin' clue what the country is or where it is, but she sure doesn't want to visit.
And then she asks: So, do you like it in GMP Uni City?
At this point I am irritated and alarmed, because this question often leads to asking what I do and when I plan on going back to my country (because presumably I better not stay here). I say "Yes" and turn to tend to my kid and the conversation is over.
So maybe she's just curious/friendly, maybe she's xenophobic. Likely, some combination of the two, as most people are. I am choosing to believe that most people just want the best for themselves and their families, and if I or the likes of me are a threat to their jobs or well-being, she has the right to hint I am unwelcome. I know that xenophobia is much more rampant in parts of Europe, and always tell myself I am fortunate to be in the USA and that little annoyances are part of the deal.
But, the fact is, at this point I am upset and it takes half an hour for my adrenalin to go down. So you see why I need to get much, much better at deflecting.
Anecdote 2 (more amusing)
My son and I are getting a table for 4 at a chain restaurant, saying that my husband and other son will be joining us shortly. The host asks to put my husband's name down, I spell it, he comments it's strange, I concur, and then host asks where we are from, at which point I say Europe, he asks yes but where in Europe and starts leading us to our table. I say "Why don't you try and guess?" knowing well it would never happen. So he guesses random countries in Europe, I smugly keep saying "No", and about halfway through the map of Europe we are seated and the host leaves us with "Enjoy your meal" and the mystery unsolved. In this case, unlike with Anecdote 1, I don't think the host cared particularly about the answer, so he didn't push it and I appreciated it.
So dear readers, any new ideas on how to deflect "Where are you from?" if it arises in passing, brief, meaningless interactions, without embarrassing the person asking or having to explain myself?
When I am grumpy, I just say "I'd rather not discuss it," but it invariably embarrasses the person asking. When I am in a particularly cheerful mood, sometimes I will play the guessing game from Anecdote 2. When I am very short on time, I will sometimes simply lie and say I am from a European country that's well known and respected, such as Germany (people breathe a sigh of relief after this one and leave me alone). Perhaps I should just say I am "from a kingdom far, far away"? Haven't tested that one yet, I am hoping it gets some giggles. But I am afraid the giggles will be followed by "Seriously, where are you from?" yet again.
Anyway, people who know me well tell me I have a light and ambiguous accent, as in -- people cannot decide where I am from based on my accent and that appears to bother them. The ambiguity certainly comes from me learning British English in school and then picking up American English at the different places I lived in the US, and all this within the rigid constraints of my decidedly mature speech apparatus.
So I have an accent; I would say that about 50% of people will ask me about it within the first 10 min of chatting. Of the other 50%, some notice it but don't care (for which I am grateful) and some simply think I am from another state in the US.
Anyway, I get asked "Where are you from?" a lot. I am sure most foreigners do. Now, I don' t particularly mind the question, especially if it comes up as part of an otherwise pleasant and meaningful conversation. I don't think the world owes it to me not to inconvenience me by the question; I will forever be asked because of my accent, and people are simply curious for the most part and don't mean anything, good or bad. But, as with anything that gets repeated ad nauseam, I get, well, nauseated with the question: sometimes I wish people would simply assume I am from wherever and spare me the inquiry. People say that a thicker, more regional accent might help there... Presently, I am working on my English with a Klingon accent.
Now, while anyone has the right to ask me where I am from and that's an inevitability I have to live with, I do not have be in the mood to discuss my roots at the drop of a hat, in particular when it's the people who happen to overhear me talking to someone else or people with whom I share a routine 10 second interaction. Therefore, the goal of this post is to explore how to best deflect the question "Where are you from?" when I am really not in the mood to reveal my origin to a complete stranger, and do so while minimally embarrassing the person who asked and preventing my day and his/her day from being ruined.
At present, I try to deflect these unwanted conversations by giving hints that I don't want to talk about it, but some people won't take a hint. So I need to get better at throwing hints, need better hints, or perhaps need to throw something more hefty in lieu of hints! :)
Here are a couple of recent examples of unsuccessful deflections.
Anecdote 1 (today, at the pool with family -- I am out of town on vacation this week)
I have been at the pool for 20 seconds and have exchanged 2 sentences with my son (all in English), to the effect of "Honey, no running around the pool," and "Come inside, the water is really great!" A woman sunbathing nearby decides to chime in
Woman: Where are you from?
GMP: We live in GMP Uni City.(Hint 1: I will pretend you are not asking what you are asking)
Woman: (obviously missing hint 1 or deciding her curiosity is more important)
Oh, no, I am asking because of your accent! (She is obviously thinking that having an accent is news to me and she needs to break it).
GMP: (rolling my eyes) I am from Europe. (Hint 2: I know what you are looking for but don't really want to go there)
Woman: (deciding she needs to know and obviously not taking hints) Yes, but where in Europe?
GMP: I am from a small country called GMP Wherefrom.
At this point comes the usual: her face shows that she has no freakin' clue what the country is or where it is, but she sure doesn't want to visit.
And then she asks: So, do you like it in GMP Uni City?
At this point I am irritated and alarmed, because this question often leads to asking what I do and when I plan on going back to my country (because presumably I better not stay here). I say "Yes" and turn to tend to my kid and the conversation is over.
So maybe she's just curious/friendly, maybe she's xenophobic. Likely, some combination of the two, as most people are. I am choosing to believe that most people just want the best for themselves and their families, and if I or the likes of me are a threat to their jobs or well-being, she has the right to hint I am unwelcome. I know that xenophobia is much more rampant in parts of Europe, and always tell myself I am fortunate to be in the USA and that little annoyances are part of the deal.
But, the fact is, at this point I am upset and it takes half an hour for my adrenalin to go down. So you see why I need to get much, much better at deflecting.
Anecdote 2 (more amusing)
My son and I are getting a table for 4 at a chain restaurant, saying that my husband and other son will be joining us shortly. The host asks to put my husband's name down, I spell it, he comments it's strange, I concur, and then host asks where we are from, at which point I say Europe, he asks yes but where in Europe and starts leading us to our table. I say "Why don't you try and guess?" knowing well it would never happen. So he guesses random countries in Europe, I smugly keep saying "No", and about halfway through the map of Europe we are seated and the host leaves us with "Enjoy your meal" and the mystery unsolved. In this case, unlike with Anecdote 1, I don't think the host cared particularly about the answer, so he didn't push it and I appreciated it.
So dear readers, any new ideas on how to deflect "Where are you from?" if it arises in passing, brief, meaningless interactions, without embarrassing the person asking or having to explain myself?
When I am grumpy, I just say "I'd rather not discuss it," but it invariably embarrasses the person asking. When I am in a particularly cheerful mood, sometimes I will play the guessing game from Anecdote 2. When I am very short on time, I will sometimes simply lie and say I am from a European country that's well known and respected, such as Germany (people breathe a sigh of relief after this one and leave me alone). Perhaps I should just say I am "from a kingdom far, far away"? Haven't tested that one yet, I am hoping it gets some giggles. But I am afraid the giggles will be followed by "Seriously, where are you from?" yet again.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Support on the Tenure Track
This is a repost from IHE, original article here, comments here.
----------------------------
In an ideal world, you would start your new academic job as a tenure-track faculty member in a harmonious department, where professors are all good friends, where everyone is well-funded and adequately supported with facilities and resources, and all students are both brilliant and highly motivated. In reality, people often don’t get along, there are nowhere nearly enough resources or staff support, and working with students is much more demanding than you envisioned. In this real world, adequate support from your department’s faculty and staff, as well as the university, is critical for the development of your research program and your success in getting tenure, and – last but not least – your personal satisfaction and peace of mind.
How do you get adequate support while on the tenure track? I write here for a tenure-track faculty member in a first appointment at a research university, but most of the issues discussed here can likely be generalized to other types of institutions as well as to non-tenure-track faculty.
Adequate facilities and resources. For junior faculty in sciences and engineering, the quality of individual lab space and shared facilities can make or break one's career. Unfortunately, many universities are strapped for resources (money, as well as facilities) and may delay in making good on the promises they made in the offer letter, such as assigning lab space shortly upon your arrival. While this may be nobody's fault, it is really important that you push gently but incessantly to have the promises kept. For instance, if you are waiting for a lab, find out if there are any spaces that are rarely used or not at all, and ask for permission to adapt them. Sharing a lab with another faculty member may be a temporary solution, but make sure it does not count as a permanent solution and does not lower your priority for future consideration. Even though you lack seniority and tenure, it is important to keep pushing until you get what you need. Any feathers you ruffle will be far easier to smooth out than will an inadequate research portfolio down the road. If you are quiet, the assumption is that you have what you need.
Staff support. Do not underestimate the importance of staff for your success as a faculty member. Staff are the glue that holds departments together. This has become painfully obvious now that nationwide budget cuts have resulted in the permanent loss of many staff positions. In my experience, staff are usually very dedicated and very efficient people, who are also overworked and underpaid. Being courteous and respectful toward staff and showing appreciation for the work they do is the least a faculty member can do (for instance, do not expect a staff member to drop everything and immediately work on an assignment just because you dropped it off at the last minute). You will find that many time-consuming things can proceed fairly smoothly if you have an efficient staff person on your side. Also, staff members have the rare perspective of the interaction with all the faculty members and can be a valuable source of information on the department climate and politics. Furthermore, departmental, college, and university level staff personnel are likely your primary points of contact about how things work, where to have paperwork submitted, payroll, immigration status for foreign faculty, and even procedures for grant submissions and administration of funding awards. Therefore, forging good relationships with staff early on is critical.
Support from other faculty. It is likely that you have been hired into a department where faculty members get along with one another for the most part; some interpersonal quarrels may exist, but they are usually not toxic, so you as an assistant professor should be able to stay out of conflicts without having to pick sides. As a junior faculty member, you were most likely brought into the department to strengthen research in an existing area (if the department wanted to start hiring in an area where they currently have no one, a prominent senior hire with a named endowed chair would have probably been the first hire in that area instead).
There are probably several faculty in your disciplinary sub-area who have championed hiring you, and who are your most likely future collaborators and supporters. You are likely to closely interact with one or more of these colleagues -- which is precisely why they can, in principle, be the most damaging to your tenure case, as close interactions may, in fact, be too close for comfort and lead to competition, irritation, or animosity. If you end up with a bitter enemy in the department, this person may once have been an ally or a collaborator, and strong interactions led to a clash. So keep your collaborators and allies close, but be careful. For instance, avoid gossiping; if others are gossips, don’t join in – and try to get out of any excessively negative discussion about any of your colleagues.
I am not saying not to trust anyone, but rather to be very, very careful about whom you trust with information that can damage your case. Don’t lose perspective that these faculty will be casting a vote on your tenure case, and that due to strong interactions they will have a strong opinion of you, which sometimes may not be as favorable as you think -- but will carry a lot of weight, coming from someone believed to know you well. Faculty are people, with all their virtues and flaws, and some come with oversize but fragile egos. While it is good to be cautious and I have no doubt scared you out of ever talking with any of your colleagues, you will be encouraged to learn that, in the vast majority of cases, your area colleagues and collaborators are indeed your strongest supporters, and are often the people who will give you the most and the best advice on all issues academic.
Most faculty apart from your area colleagues and/or your collaborators will likely start as ambivalent, or sometimes mildly hostile towards you (if you were hired over a pet candidate in a competing sub-area). Depending on the size of your department, these faculty may be many. These people will be usually be civil but aloof, and will generally think about you in terms of passing interactions and your progress as documented on your CV. These are the people with whom you should be friendly as you serve on committees together and share an occasional lighthearted joke or commiserate about the administration. These are the people who will likely view your CV in objective terms and will support your getting tenure if your record is strong. Moreover, if you have an opportunity to seek guidance or to collaborate with a leading faculty member in area of expertise outside your field, grab it. It can be helpful to have an independent ally outside of your subfield to keep your agenda moving ahead.
Furthermore, I recommend that you lay low in terms of department politics in the first few years on tenure track. Do attend the department faculty meetings, but mostly listen and try to determine how the department hierarchy looks (for example, often the loudest people are not the ones best respected; try to determine who the heavy hitters really are, and who the potentially most difficult ones are).
Department chair. If your department has a rotating department chair position (where a faculty member serves as chair for several years), it is likely that chair will change once and perhaps even twice between your hiring and your tenure decision. Ideally, the chair will be supportive of junior faculty and ensure they are adequately supported in terms of facilities and resources, as well as that they have reduced teaching and service loads at least in the first year or two on tenure track. Also, the chair ought to make sure that you understand the criteria for promotion and that you are given regular feedback on your progress.
Do your best to build a good and collegial relationship with the current chair as both a colleague and an administrator. You should do your share of service as a junior faculty member, but be aware of what the requirements are for all junior faculty and avoid volunteering too much time and energy to activities that do not directly benefit your tenure case, even if you feel this would get you in the chair’s good graces – it likely won’t, not in the way that ensures long-term respect for you. Also, be aware that chair, like any other faculty, may not necessarily be your friend as he/she may have other, stronger loyalties that predate you. If you feel you are not in the chair’s good graces even though you feel you have done nothing wrong, try to be realistic in assessing what chair’s agenda is (with the help of trusted colleagues, if possible) and decide if you need to strategize around it.
Formal and informal mentoring. Some universities require that a formal mentoring committee be assigned to every assistant professor on the tenure track. Mentoring committees often consist of one or two faculty who are supposed to be the first point of contact for tenure track faculty when questions regarding teaching, research, or service arise. The committee may be required to meet with the assistant professor to go over the annual progress report, with or without the department chair. You may have a say in who your committee members are, and it is best if they are people whom you trust. I recommend finding out early what the university-mandated and department-mandated types of feedback on your progress are, and, if there is any type of mentorship you have the right to, I advise that you try to have it materialize. Ensure you get all the feedback that you have the right to, and do so early on.
Sometimes the faculty in a formal mentoring committee are well-intentioned but may be too busy to meet with you when you need them, or you may not be too willing to inconvenience them and ask for advice, so they ultimately fail to fulfill the purpose. But there are usually multiple opportunities for informal mentoring. For instance, excellent mentoring can be provided by your collaborators in other departments, as collaboration keeps the lines of communication open and you can freely say what’s bothering you without it coming back to haunt you at tenure time (of course, gossip travels fast and knows no boundaries between departments, so be cautious whom you trust even outside the department).
Sometimes, if you are member of a minority group, there may be university-wide mechanisms (inquire about them with human resources or diversity affairs office) to have a senior faculty outside your department assigned as a formal mentor. This person can also offer plenty of advice on the workings of the university, and you can share your thoughts and fears relatively freely as this person will again not be casting a vote on your tenure case.
Peer support. Most universities offer introductory/orientation workshops for new faculty. These are great opportunities to meet young faculty from other departments, who will be undergoing the trial by fire in much the same way as you. Often, some of these people end up joining the group of your closest friends, as they understand exactly what you are going through while not being your direct competition. I recommend getting involved in these workshops, and taking advantage of any later activities that foster interdepartmental peer bonding, such as college-level or university-level junior faculty coffee or lunch meetings. In addition, for minority faculty, there are often more-or-less formal support and fellowship groups (e.g., groups reaching out to women in sciences, or to international faculty).
If there is no established infrastructure for this type of support, consider starting your own peer support group with a few kindred spirits you have identified in different departments. Make it a habit to meet every few weeks or monthly for lunch or drinks after work. At least until tenure, it is certainly less dangerous to complain to a friend from a different department about the annoying Prof. Bigshot from yours than it is to give Bigshot a piece of your mind. Do not underestimate the therapeutic powers of camaraderie and commiseration on your well-being and professional success.
----------------------------
In an ideal world, you would start your new academic job as a tenure-track faculty member in a harmonious department, where professors are all good friends, where everyone is well-funded and adequately supported with facilities and resources, and all students are both brilliant and highly motivated. In reality, people often don’t get along, there are nowhere nearly enough resources or staff support, and working with students is much more demanding than you envisioned. In this real world, adequate support from your department’s faculty and staff, as well as the university, is critical for the development of your research program and your success in getting tenure, and – last but not least – your personal satisfaction and peace of mind.
How do you get adequate support while on the tenure track? I write here for a tenure-track faculty member in a first appointment at a research university, but most of the issues discussed here can likely be generalized to other types of institutions as well as to non-tenure-track faculty.
Adequate facilities and resources. For junior faculty in sciences and engineering, the quality of individual lab space and shared facilities can make or break one's career. Unfortunately, many universities are strapped for resources (money, as well as facilities) and may delay in making good on the promises they made in the offer letter, such as assigning lab space shortly upon your arrival. While this may be nobody's fault, it is really important that you push gently but incessantly to have the promises kept. For instance, if you are waiting for a lab, find out if there are any spaces that are rarely used or not at all, and ask for permission to adapt them. Sharing a lab with another faculty member may be a temporary solution, but make sure it does not count as a permanent solution and does not lower your priority for future consideration. Even though you lack seniority and tenure, it is important to keep pushing until you get what you need. Any feathers you ruffle will be far easier to smooth out than will an inadequate research portfolio down the road. If you are quiet, the assumption is that you have what you need.
Staff support. Do not underestimate the importance of staff for your success as a faculty member. Staff are the glue that holds departments together. This has become painfully obvious now that nationwide budget cuts have resulted in the permanent loss of many staff positions. In my experience, staff are usually very dedicated and very efficient people, who are also overworked and underpaid. Being courteous and respectful toward staff and showing appreciation for the work they do is the least a faculty member can do (for instance, do not expect a staff member to drop everything and immediately work on an assignment just because you dropped it off at the last minute). You will find that many time-consuming things can proceed fairly smoothly if you have an efficient staff person on your side. Also, staff members have the rare perspective of the interaction with all the faculty members and can be a valuable source of information on the department climate and politics. Furthermore, departmental, college, and university level staff personnel are likely your primary points of contact about how things work, where to have paperwork submitted, payroll, immigration status for foreign faculty, and even procedures for grant submissions and administration of funding awards. Therefore, forging good relationships with staff early on is critical.
Support from other faculty. It is likely that you have been hired into a department where faculty members get along with one another for the most part; some interpersonal quarrels may exist, but they are usually not toxic, so you as an assistant professor should be able to stay out of conflicts without having to pick sides. As a junior faculty member, you were most likely brought into the department to strengthen research in an existing area (if the department wanted to start hiring in an area where they currently have no one, a prominent senior hire with a named endowed chair would have probably been the first hire in that area instead).
There are probably several faculty in your disciplinary sub-area who have championed hiring you, and who are your most likely future collaborators and supporters. You are likely to closely interact with one or more of these colleagues -- which is precisely why they can, in principle, be the most damaging to your tenure case, as close interactions may, in fact, be too close for comfort and lead to competition, irritation, or animosity. If you end up with a bitter enemy in the department, this person may once have been an ally or a collaborator, and strong interactions led to a clash. So keep your collaborators and allies close, but be careful. For instance, avoid gossiping; if others are gossips, don’t join in – and try to get out of any excessively negative discussion about any of your colleagues.
I am not saying not to trust anyone, but rather to be very, very careful about whom you trust with information that can damage your case. Don’t lose perspective that these faculty will be casting a vote on your tenure case, and that due to strong interactions they will have a strong opinion of you, which sometimes may not be as favorable as you think -- but will carry a lot of weight, coming from someone believed to know you well. Faculty are people, with all their virtues and flaws, and some come with oversize but fragile egos. While it is good to be cautious and I have no doubt scared you out of ever talking with any of your colleagues, you will be encouraged to learn that, in the vast majority of cases, your area colleagues and collaborators are indeed your strongest supporters, and are often the people who will give you the most and the best advice on all issues academic.
Most faculty apart from your area colleagues and/or your collaborators will likely start as ambivalent, or sometimes mildly hostile towards you (if you were hired over a pet candidate in a competing sub-area). Depending on the size of your department, these faculty may be many. These people will be usually be civil but aloof, and will generally think about you in terms of passing interactions and your progress as documented on your CV. These are the people with whom you should be friendly as you serve on committees together and share an occasional lighthearted joke or commiserate about the administration. These are the people who will likely view your CV in objective terms and will support your getting tenure if your record is strong. Moreover, if you have an opportunity to seek guidance or to collaborate with a leading faculty member in area of expertise outside your field, grab it. It can be helpful to have an independent ally outside of your subfield to keep your agenda moving ahead.
Furthermore, I recommend that you lay low in terms of department politics in the first few years on tenure track. Do attend the department faculty meetings, but mostly listen and try to determine how the department hierarchy looks (for example, often the loudest people are not the ones best respected; try to determine who the heavy hitters really are, and who the potentially most difficult ones are).
Department chair. If your department has a rotating department chair position (where a faculty member serves as chair for several years), it is likely that chair will change once and perhaps even twice between your hiring and your tenure decision. Ideally, the chair will be supportive of junior faculty and ensure they are adequately supported in terms of facilities and resources, as well as that they have reduced teaching and service loads at least in the first year or two on tenure track. Also, the chair ought to make sure that you understand the criteria for promotion and that you are given regular feedback on your progress.
Do your best to build a good and collegial relationship with the current chair as both a colleague and an administrator. You should do your share of service as a junior faculty member, but be aware of what the requirements are for all junior faculty and avoid volunteering too much time and energy to activities that do not directly benefit your tenure case, even if you feel this would get you in the chair’s good graces – it likely won’t, not in the way that ensures long-term respect for you. Also, be aware that chair, like any other faculty, may not necessarily be your friend as he/she may have other, stronger loyalties that predate you. If you feel you are not in the chair’s good graces even though you feel you have done nothing wrong, try to be realistic in assessing what chair’s agenda is (with the help of trusted colleagues, if possible) and decide if you need to strategize around it.
Formal and informal mentoring. Some universities require that a formal mentoring committee be assigned to every assistant professor on the tenure track. Mentoring committees often consist of one or two faculty who are supposed to be the first point of contact for tenure track faculty when questions regarding teaching, research, or service arise. The committee may be required to meet with the assistant professor to go over the annual progress report, with or without the department chair. You may have a say in who your committee members are, and it is best if they are people whom you trust. I recommend finding out early what the university-mandated and department-mandated types of feedback on your progress are, and, if there is any type of mentorship you have the right to, I advise that you try to have it materialize. Ensure you get all the feedback that you have the right to, and do so early on.
Sometimes the faculty in a formal mentoring committee are well-intentioned but may be too busy to meet with you when you need them, or you may not be too willing to inconvenience them and ask for advice, so they ultimately fail to fulfill the purpose. But there are usually multiple opportunities for informal mentoring. For instance, excellent mentoring can be provided by your collaborators in other departments, as collaboration keeps the lines of communication open and you can freely say what’s bothering you without it coming back to haunt you at tenure time (of course, gossip travels fast and knows no boundaries between departments, so be cautious whom you trust even outside the department).
Sometimes, if you are member of a minority group, there may be university-wide mechanisms (inquire about them with human resources or diversity affairs office) to have a senior faculty outside your department assigned as a formal mentor. This person can also offer plenty of advice on the workings of the university, and you can share your thoughts and fears relatively freely as this person will again not be casting a vote on your tenure case.
Peer support. Most universities offer introductory/orientation workshops for new faculty. These are great opportunities to meet young faculty from other departments, who will be undergoing the trial by fire in much the same way as you. Often, some of these people end up joining the group of your closest friends, as they understand exactly what you are going through while not being your direct competition. I recommend getting involved in these workshops, and taking advantage of any later activities that foster interdepartmental peer bonding, such as college-level or university-level junior faculty coffee or lunch meetings. In addition, for minority faculty, there are often more-or-less formal support and fellowship groups (e.g., groups reaching out to women in sciences, or to international faculty).
If there is no established infrastructure for this type of support, consider starting your own peer support group with a few kindred spirits you have identified in different departments. Make it a habit to meet every few weeks or monthly for lunch or drinks after work. At least until tenure, it is certainly less dangerous to complain to a friend from a different department about the annoying Prof. Bigshot from yours than it is to give Bigshot a piece of your mind. Do not underestimate the therapeutic powers of camaraderie and commiseration on your well-being and professional success.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Brain Drain
This weekend, my family and I drove 4 hours north to spend some time vacationing. Halfway, at about 2 hours north of where I live and work, a friend of mine from my undergraduate days got a teaching position at a primarily undergraduate institution, so my family and I stopped by for some catching up with my friend’s family. It's really funny how small the world it -- we both were born, raised, and educated in the same big city thousands of miles away, and we end up a light car ride from each other in the vast US of A.
But, if instead of north, I drove east, or south, or south east, within 5 hours in any direction I would hit a town where another one of friends or acquaintances from my undergrad days holds a teaching position.
I am an immigrant from Europe, and I came to the US to do my PhD; I did very well, got a TT position, then tenure. I am not from one of the European countries that Americans perceive as either powerful or as fun/cool/romantic. It's just another country in Europe, most would say of little consequence to the European and global balance of powers.
Actually, some people say that my country's best export products are the smart people. I can tell you that the vast majority of my graduating class of about 40 (I have a BS in a basic "hard" science) is actually scattered throughout the US. Now, I am sure we could have a discussion here of whether us high-tech immigrants are stealing jobs or whether such immigration is good or bad; I think smart people of any background are an asset to any country, and that TT and similar jobs are highly specialized and highly competitive and should be (and are, in the USA at least) open to the best individual globally, but you may disagree... Anyway, I'd rather not engage in that conversation.
What I wanted to write about instead is the impact of this massive "brain drain", the permanent departure of smart and educated people, on the country that invested into their education, typically up to and including a BS degree. Virtually nobody who has had a chance to leave based on intellectual merit has stayed in my country, so the drain is nearly absolute. I can tell you that the impact on a fairly small country like mine is devastating. And it's the country's fault. People leave because it is not possible to become independent of parents, to work in a job that would provide for a person to support a family, or provide enough for scientists to do work relevant on a global scale. I spent several years doing my PhD there, in my home country, with a heavy teaching load, being groomed into a junior faculty position (no TT there) but realized that it was just a joke -- the work I would be doing would never be internationally recognized as top-notch. And I could never afford to start my own family. So I left and started all over in the USA.
There are a couple of thought nuggets here:
How much does one owe one's home country for the schooling? This way the USA gets an expert at the cost of a PhD education alone. Are all of us who have left our countries ungrateful selfish ingrates?
I certainly feel that way occasionally. But I decided that ultimately I only had one life and needed to live it as best I could. I would have loved to have been able to stay in my own country, it just was not possible with enough human and professional dignity. The political system and the system of values are such that education and research are not valued; of most value is a quick buck. People rising are the not quality people...
The second thought point is what I have been seeing in the USA: increasing disregard for science and education. It's not a good trend. I don't know when or if educated Americans will drain into other powerful economies at any significant rate, but what is certain is that countries that have been traditionally supplying a lot of smart people to the US, like China and India, are becoming ever more desirable. Students are returning home to these countries and no longer feeling compelled to stay in the USA. A number of my Indian and Chinese faculty colleagues say that, if present-day opportunities in their home countries had existed when they were starting grad school, they likely would have never left.
I wish my country would take a cue from India and China and do something tangible to keep its educated and driven youth from leaving. But I am not holding my breath, as I know my country and have little faith that the necessary changes in the system of values would change in my lifetime.
But I wish the USA, which I love dearly as the country I have chosen and which has accepted me in return, would stop being so careless about its scientists and engineers -- whether they are imported or homegrown. I have seen this trend of the marginalization of science play out dramatically before and it is not good. The ever shrinking funds for research and education in the USA are hurting everyone's morale, and excellent science does not live without funds or morale. Again, I don't know when or if American scientists may start leaving for better prospects elsewhere; but I am afraid that the USA is no longer universally perceived as the most exciting place in the world to do cutting edge research, and that deters the best international people... The USA may not directly start suffering from brain drain in the next few decades, but the results of vanishing brain influx, and the fact those smart people are now working elsewhere, will become ever more visible.
We could discuss what it will do to the balance of powers in the world, but let's not go into global politics: it's ugly and beyond our sphere of influence. It will mean that some of the best science in the world may forever move away from the second country that I love, and that makes me sad all over again, in a way not unlike the sadness I first started feeling when I realized, some years ago, that my country of birth was hopelessly on a track to self-destruction...
-----------------------------
There have been a lot of problems with posting comments yesterday and today (July 5 and 6). I will try to rescue all comments when Blogger stops being temperamental.
But, if instead of north, I drove east, or south, or south east, within 5 hours in any direction I would hit a town where another one of friends or acquaintances from my undergrad days holds a teaching position.
I am an immigrant from Europe, and I came to the US to do my PhD; I did very well, got a TT position, then tenure. I am not from one of the European countries that Americans perceive as either powerful or as fun/cool/romantic. It's just another country in Europe, most would say of little consequence to the European and global balance of powers.
Actually, some people say that my country's best export products are the smart people. I can tell you that the vast majority of my graduating class of about 40 (I have a BS in a basic "hard" science) is actually scattered throughout the US. Now, I am sure we could have a discussion here of whether us high-tech immigrants are stealing jobs or whether such immigration is good or bad; I think smart people of any background are an asset to any country, and that TT and similar jobs are highly specialized and highly competitive and should be (and are, in the USA at least) open to the best individual globally, but you may disagree... Anyway, I'd rather not engage in that conversation.
What I wanted to write about instead is the impact of this massive "brain drain", the permanent departure of smart and educated people, on the country that invested into their education, typically up to and including a BS degree. Virtually nobody who has had a chance to leave based on intellectual merit has stayed in my country, so the drain is nearly absolute. I can tell you that the impact on a fairly small country like mine is devastating. And it's the country's fault. People leave because it is not possible to become independent of parents, to work in a job that would provide for a person to support a family, or provide enough for scientists to do work relevant on a global scale. I spent several years doing my PhD there, in my home country, with a heavy teaching load, being groomed into a junior faculty position (no TT there) but realized that it was just a joke -- the work I would be doing would never be internationally recognized as top-notch. And I could never afford to start my own family. So I left and started all over in the USA.
There are a couple of thought nuggets here:
How much does one owe one's home country for the schooling? This way the USA gets an expert at the cost of a PhD education alone. Are all of us who have left our countries ungrateful selfish ingrates?
I certainly feel that way occasionally. But I decided that ultimately I only had one life and needed to live it as best I could. I would have loved to have been able to stay in my own country, it just was not possible with enough human and professional dignity. The political system and the system of values are such that education and research are not valued; of most value is a quick buck. People rising are the not quality people...
The second thought point is what I have been seeing in the USA: increasing disregard for science and education. It's not a good trend. I don't know when or if educated Americans will drain into other powerful economies at any significant rate, but what is certain is that countries that have been traditionally supplying a lot of smart people to the US, like China and India, are becoming ever more desirable. Students are returning home to these countries and no longer feeling compelled to stay in the USA. A number of my Indian and Chinese faculty colleagues say that, if present-day opportunities in their home countries had existed when they were starting grad school, they likely would have never left.
I wish my country would take a cue from India and China and do something tangible to keep its educated and driven youth from leaving. But I am not holding my breath, as I know my country and have little faith that the necessary changes in the system of values would change in my lifetime.
But I wish the USA, which I love dearly as the country I have chosen and which has accepted me in return, would stop being so careless about its scientists and engineers -- whether they are imported or homegrown. I have seen this trend of the marginalization of science play out dramatically before and it is not good. The ever shrinking funds for research and education in the USA are hurting everyone's morale, and excellent science does not live without funds or morale. Again, I don't know when or if American scientists may start leaving for better prospects elsewhere; but I am afraid that the USA is no longer universally perceived as the most exciting place in the world to do cutting edge research, and that deters the best international people... The USA may not directly start suffering from brain drain in the next few decades, but the results of vanishing brain influx, and the fact those smart people are now working elsewhere, will become ever more visible.
We could discuss what it will do to the balance of powers in the world, but let's not go into global politics: it's ugly and beyond our sphere of influence. It will mean that some of the best science in the world may forever move away from the second country that I love, and that makes me sad all over again, in a way not unlike the sadness I first started feeling when I realized, some years ago, that my country of birth was hopelessly on a track to self-destruction...
-----------------------------
There have been a lot of problems with posting comments yesterday and today (July 5 and 6). I will try to rescue all comments when Blogger stops being temperamental.
Friday, July 2, 2010
On Recruiting Students and Nurturing Talent
I am generally fairly happy with the quality of graduate students in my department. In my opinion, the majority of graduate students I encounter can finish a PhD successfully, but not with every advisor and not on every project. For most students, it is critical that they work in an area they are really interested in AND find an advisor whose style of work they like AND that they are put on a project that utilizes their strengths. Unfortunately, the advisor does not always have unlimited freedom in terms of project choice as he/she is funded to do certain things, so sometimes there really is an impasse between what the student would excel in/like to do and what actually the advisor had funding to do.
In my department, there are not many TA-ships, so supporting one's reseach group is almost exclusively on grants (occasionally I may get a TA-ship for a semester, but I usually don't count on it). This means that, when I recruit graduate students, I have to commit to several years of funding without really knowing the student. It is very hard to judge if someone would make a good researcher from the application materials and references alone, and even after conversations over the phone, multiple email exchanges, and sometimes a brief face-to-face meeting. So while a degree from a good school, good test scores and references should point to a good student, in reality it's really a hit or miss, primarily because skills needed for research are not necessarily the ones rewarded during undergrad training. For instance, one of my worst recruitment experiences was with a student who came from a very prominent university with a very strong undergraduate record. I brought him in as he looked, on paper at least, like some of my best former students from the same institution, and he came recommended by a few people I knew somewhat. In reality, it turned out that he was very technically strong but amazingly passive -- he would not do anything beyond what he was explicitly instructed to do; he would execute instructions quickly and efficiently but would not move beyond, not one little bit. We had many conversations on how important it is that he show initiative, as this was his PhD after all, but to no avail. I thought that perhaps the problem was that the project was not inspiring ehough and we tried a few different ones, but the story repeated. We ended up parting ways (amicably, after plenty of notice) after he had coauthored 1 paper (getting him to finish the work for that paper was one of the most exhausting things I have ever done in my life) and written a masters thesis, and he moved to the group of my colleague. It turns out that the passivity issue is still indeed an issue, only my colleague has a different outlook on what a PhD thesis should be and does not mind the passivity as much as I did, so I think the student will eventually graduate.
Another student I recruited had so-so tests and didn't look too spectacular on paper, but came from a good school, was well recommended by people I trusted, and coauthored a couple of papers. He turned out to be, bar none, the best student I have ever had. He took to the most challenging projects I had with extreme gusto. and turned out to be amazingly talented, acquiring new knowledge at dizzying speed and showing a depth of understanding that is very uncommon for his career level.
He's really a rare talent and I fully support him in his desire to become faculty. I actually feel like I have an obligation to his talent, that I should do my best to nurture it and go beyond what I expect to be my base duties (ensuring that he gets a good postdoc, a number of good publications, conference exposure, and a sparkling letter of recommendation). Actually, I sometimes feel bad that I don't spend enough time with him -- he is significantly more independent than all of my other students and is able to work on multiple projects at a time, and do them all very efficiently. While I feel like I should help him maximize his talent, on the other hand I don't want to show favoritism. So I have been focusing on simply instilling good practices for his eventual independence: while having superior technical skills, he is quite introverted and we need to work on his presentation skills as well as his writing [e.g. he thinks everything is trivial and need not be explained as explaining it would offend the (always brilliant) reader] and he hates the presentation aspect of science (he's the author of some of the most god awful plots ever made). Also, he has a tendency to skip seminars so he could work; I keep repeating that he needs to go to as many talks as he can, and learn to listen to other people, as that is how you get new ideas for your own work. I do emphasize the same non-technical issues to my other students, too (proper presentation skills, for instance, the importance of keeping up with the field), but with other students a much larger fraction of time in our interactions is spent on the actual technical challenges.
So when you have a very talented student, do you feel you have extra obligations to the student, the talent, or Science itself to actively help the student maximally develop the talent? Or do you leave it up to the student to do as they will with their gift?
How does the presence of a truly gifted student affect the others in the group? (Here I mean really gifted, not just someone who is overconfident and has an oversize ego.)
Are gifted students entitled to extra attention and coaching, or should they always be treated just like all the other students? Is there a line between "extra coaching" and simply playing favorites?
In my department, there are not many TA-ships, so supporting one's reseach group is almost exclusively on grants (occasionally I may get a TA-ship for a semester, but I usually don't count on it). This means that, when I recruit graduate students, I have to commit to several years of funding without really knowing the student. It is very hard to judge if someone would make a good researcher from the application materials and references alone, and even after conversations over the phone, multiple email exchanges, and sometimes a brief face-to-face meeting. So while a degree from a good school, good test scores and references should point to a good student, in reality it's really a hit or miss, primarily because skills needed for research are not necessarily the ones rewarded during undergrad training. For instance, one of my worst recruitment experiences was with a student who came from a very prominent university with a very strong undergraduate record. I brought him in as he looked, on paper at least, like some of my best former students from the same institution, and he came recommended by a few people I knew somewhat. In reality, it turned out that he was very technically strong but amazingly passive -- he would not do anything beyond what he was explicitly instructed to do; he would execute instructions quickly and efficiently but would not move beyond, not one little bit. We had many conversations on how important it is that he show initiative, as this was his PhD after all, but to no avail. I thought that perhaps the problem was that the project was not inspiring ehough and we tried a few different ones, but the story repeated. We ended up parting ways (amicably, after plenty of notice) after he had coauthored 1 paper (getting him to finish the work for that paper was one of the most exhausting things I have ever done in my life) and written a masters thesis, and he moved to the group of my colleague. It turns out that the passivity issue is still indeed an issue, only my colleague has a different outlook on what a PhD thesis should be and does not mind the passivity as much as I did, so I think the student will eventually graduate.
Another student I recruited had so-so tests and didn't look too spectacular on paper, but came from a good school, was well recommended by people I trusted, and coauthored a couple of papers. He turned out to be, bar none, the best student I have ever had. He took to the most challenging projects I had with extreme gusto. and turned out to be amazingly talented, acquiring new knowledge at dizzying speed and showing a depth of understanding that is very uncommon for his career level.
He's really a rare talent and I fully support him in his desire to become faculty. I actually feel like I have an obligation to his talent, that I should do my best to nurture it and go beyond what I expect to be my base duties (ensuring that he gets a good postdoc, a number of good publications, conference exposure, and a sparkling letter of recommendation). Actually, I sometimes feel bad that I don't spend enough time with him -- he is significantly more independent than all of my other students and is able to work on multiple projects at a time, and do them all very efficiently. While I feel like I should help him maximize his talent, on the other hand I don't want to show favoritism. So I have been focusing on simply instilling good practices for his eventual independence: while having superior technical skills, he is quite introverted and we need to work on his presentation skills as well as his writing [e.g. he thinks everything is trivial and need not be explained as explaining it would offend the (always brilliant) reader] and he hates the presentation aspect of science (he's the author of some of the most god awful plots ever made). Also, he has a tendency to skip seminars so he could work; I keep repeating that he needs to go to as many talks as he can, and learn to listen to other people, as that is how you get new ideas for your own work. I do emphasize the same non-technical issues to my other students, too (proper presentation skills, for instance, the importance of keeping up with the field), but with other students a much larger fraction of time in our interactions is spent on the actual technical challenges.
So when you have a very talented student, do you feel you have extra obligations to the student, the talent, or Science itself to actively help the student maximally develop the talent? Or do you leave it up to the student to do as they will with their gift?
How does the presence of a truly gifted student affect the others in the group? (Here I mean really gifted, not just someone who is overconfident and has an oversize ego.)
Are gifted students entitled to extra attention and coaching, or should they always be treated just like all the other students? Is there a line between "extra coaching" and simply playing favorites?
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