I wrote about discovering my hearing impairment in my post about paranoia and motherhood. This year, I finally committed to the surgery to correct the problem, and the results have surprised me at many levels.
The world is louder. At first, startling so. For a week after the surgery, I had to close my eyes to regain my bearings. But I would also stop, mesmerized, to listen to water fountains gurgle and awake to the patter of rain through double-planed glass. Six weeks later, I still cannot hear the birds twittering outside with my fixed ear, but I was not expecting perfect hearing from the surgery.
My home, on the other hand, is quieter. Not only because the kids have been making the effort not to aggravate mamãe's sensitive ears, but also because I am not instigating the loud behavior by raising my voice unconsciously. I hope we can maintain this newfound volume, and the added politeness that seems to stroll hand-in-hand with it.
Other changes are temporary, I was told (and truly hope). Apparently, the taste nerve meanders through the surgery site on its way to the brain. I woke up from anesthesia with the sensation that my mouth had been burned by hot tea, a feeling that has not dissipated over the weeks. I had been told to expect a metallic taste that could linger for three to four months, but for me, the taste resembled licorice--Pastis liquor to be exact--on the left side of my tongue. After a month, the flavor of salty tears replaced the licorice, prominently by my lower lip.
As can be expected, my disturbed taste has changed how I perceive standard foods and beverages, and some of my favorite dishes clash horribly with the odd flavors my brain combines with them. Instead of feeling annoyed, I decided to call it amusing. If my taste nerve can fool my brain, maybe so can I.
Showing posts with label random thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random thoughts. Show all posts
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Middle grade books for elementary school kids
My sons are seven and nine, with overactive imaginations and slapstick humor like kids their age seem wired to have. As much as they enjoy living vicariously the rough days of a wimpy middle-schooler, they are more than ready to embark on wild, fantastical adventures, be it on the Hogwarts Express or through a portal to Narnia. Quick trips in a magic tree house still entertain my younger son, but the older one needs more volumes in a story--as long as there isn't much kissing. Even though he reads above grade level, he is as interested in relationships as James Bond.
Of the many books people have pitched my older son's way, Rick Riordan's novels always score. And not just due to my son sharing Percy Jackson's dyslexia. Be it Greek or Egyptian, Riordan's take on gods among earthlings mingles enough reality into his stories for suspension of disbelief, while keeping the peril fantastical enough not to give nightmares. That sense of safety in reality is essential for my son. The later Harry Potter books do not scare him, but the kidnapping during Halloween in the opening of the Five Kingdoms series did. He found it was a lot easier to empathize with kids that get into adventurous trouble because they are supernatural than because they did something stupid. Whether he was conscious that the kids' behavior in Sky Raiders was of the kind that fuels helicopter parenting, I'm not certain. But after reading three chapters aloud together, we had to set the book aside.
The fidgeting is the first sign of discomfort, which can develop into cartwheels or brash declarations of "I'm too tired" from a kid who has choosen not to go to sleep voluntarily since he was old enough to open his eyes. My counter-tactics alternate between stopping to discuss the issue, sending him to bed, and plowing on through Harry's jitters whenever he tried to talk to Cho. Even after watching the movie, my son was not prepared for the crush-related angst of the Order of the Phoenix. On the other hand, Harry kissing Ginny in the Half-Blood Prince was, as for the boy at the end of The Princess Bride, not a problem.
Maybe my kids will feel the universe shift when they meet a new classmate in forth grade, or watch their crush kiss their frenemy from a rooftop balcony when they are thirteen. For now, I am happy that they still want to read aloud with me, even if what we end up discussing is toilet papyrus and Egyptians walking sideways. Rick Riordan, thank you for the connection.
Of the many books people have pitched my older son's way, Rick Riordan's novels always score. And not just due to my son sharing Percy Jackson's dyslexia. Be it Greek or Egyptian, Riordan's take on gods among earthlings mingles enough reality into his stories for suspension of disbelief, while keeping the peril fantastical enough not to give nightmares. That sense of safety in reality is essential for my son. The later Harry Potter books do not scare him, but the kidnapping during Halloween in the opening of the Five Kingdoms series did. He found it was a lot easier to empathize with kids that get into adventurous trouble because they are supernatural than because they did something stupid. Whether he was conscious that the kids' behavior in Sky Raiders was of the kind that fuels helicopter parenting, I'm not certain. But after reading three chapters aloud together, we had to set the book aside.
The fidgeting is the first sign of discomfort, which can develop into cartwheels or brash declarations of "I'm too tired" from a kid who has choosen not to go to sleep voluntarily since he was old enough to open his eyes. My counter-tactics alternate between stopping to discuss the issue, sending him to bed, and plowing on through Harry's jitters whenever he tried to talk to Cho. Even after watching the movie, my son was not prepared for the crush-related angst of the Order of the Phoenix. On the other hand, Harry kissing Ginny in the Half-Blood Prince was, as for the boy at the end of The Princess Bride, not a problem.
Maybe my kids will feel the universe shift when they meet a new classmate in forth grade, or watch their crush kiss their frenemy from a rooftop balcony when they are thirteen. For now, I am happy that they still want to read aloud with me, even if what we end up discussing is toilet papyrus and Egyptians walking sideways. Rick Riordan, thank you for the connection.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Thoughts on reading
Ever since I started writing, I have been reading less. My spare time is limited, so I need to choose between the hobbies I enjoy. I scrapbook less too, and movie watching is a rare event. When I ask myself what I would rather do, most often the answer is write.
I used to read books just for the pleasure of being immersed in a story, but nowadays it takes more from a book to retain my interest. If the writing doesn't grab me, I put the book down and pick a different activity. I do not find myself waiting for things to get better. I have been using the Kindle sample feature a lot -- reading the first pages before buying the book. There seems to be no point in purchasing a book if the story does not hold my interest to the end of the sample.
Not only do I read less, but I noticed I read differently nowadays. I am looking at form, not just inhaling content. I pay attention to word choices and descriptions that I used to just skim over. I ask myself what makes me keep reading or why I feel like putting the book down. There is much more to a book than just the story it tells. How the tale is told makes all the difference.
I used to read books just for the pleasure of being immersed in a story, but nowadays it takes more from a book to retain my interest. If the writing doesn't grab me, I put the book down and pick a different activity. I do not find myself waiting for things to get better. I have been using the Kindle sample feature a lot -- reading the first pages before buying the book. There seems to be no point in purchasing a book if the story does not hold my interest to the end of the sample.
Not only do I read less, but I noticed I read differently nowadays. I am looking at form, not just inhaling content. I pay attention to word choices and descriptions that I used to just skim over. I ask myself what makes me keep reading or why I feel like putting the book down. There is much more to a book than just the story it tells. How the tale is told makes all the difference.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
My take on the Hunger Games
Dada and I watched the Hunger Games movie last weekend. I always worry about watching a movie based on a book I really liked. I never think what I see on the screen lives up to the images my mind created while I read. I have to say this time I was pleasantly surprised.
I enjoyed the books and the movie for different reasons. The books immersed me into the Katniss's mind, which was fraught with emotion. But the movie gave me a perspective of what was happening while she was in the arena that Katniss could not have known. The repercussions of Katniss's actions are only revealed to her later in the series, but in the movie you can see the effect she has on others as it happens.
I heard many complaints about casting, but I have to say I did not notice anything that bothered me excessively. Cinna was my favorite character in the book and Lenny Kravitz did a great job bringing him to life. I imagined Rue darker not lighter. Katniss looked a little too well-fed, but I am so tired of only seeing anorexic actresses on the screen that I did not mind. I was surprised that my favorite character in the movie was Haymitch. I did not care much for him in the book because Katniss did not like him, but in the movie he had the freedom to shine.
What really bothered me while I was in the theater was in the audience, not on the screen. I read the books. I was expecting the violence and the apathy of those watching the games at the Capital. I just did not expect parents to take their elementary school-aged children to see the movie. The books stress the point that society has become desensitized to violence. No kidding.
I enjoyed the books and the movie for different reasons. The books immersed me into the Katniss's mind, which was fraught with emotion. But the movie gave me a perspective of what was happening while she was in the arena that Katniss could not have known. The repercussions of Katniss's actions are only revealed to her later in the series, but in the movie you can see the effect she has on others as it happens.
I heard many complaints about casting, but I have to say I did not notice anything that bothered me excessively. Cinna was my favorite character in the book and Lenny Kravitz did a great job bringing him to life. I imagined Rue darker not lighter. Katniss looked a little too well-fed, but I am so tired of only seeing anorexic actresses on the screen that I did not mind. I was surprised that my favorite character in the movie was Haymitch. I did not care much for him in the book because Katniss did not like him, but in the movie he had the freedom to shine.
What really bothered me while I was in the theater was in the audience, not on the screen. I read the books. I was expecting the violence and the apathy of those watching the games at the Capital. I just did not expect parents to take their elementary school-aged children to see the movie. The books stress the point that society has become desensitized to violence. No kidding.
Friday, March 16, 2012
How does a molecular biologists write a novel?
Telling a story is like synthesizing a gene: you start at the beginning, make your way to the end, and check every letter in between to make sure it makes sense. You do not want anything lost in translation.
Of course, if you want to express yourself properly there are many other things you should consider. You have to be aware of the elements that can promote, enhance, or even repress your story. You need to read it many times for form, content, and flow. It might not be flawless, but you do not want any spots in the sequence that make the reader stop, get confused, or give up. The reader must stay engaged until the end.
Many aspects of the story are purely for the writer to remember when events are supposed to happen. You cannot include every single piece of information in a limited amount of space. Make choices, select, adapt. Remember that it does not need to be perfect, but if you manage to be successful then your product might hang around for a very long time.
Of course, if you want to express yourself properly there are many other things you should consider. You have to be aware of the elements that can promote, enhance, or even repress your story. You need to read it many times for form, content, and flow. It might not be flawless, but you do not want any spots in the sequence that make the reader stop, get confused, or give up. The reader must stay engaged until the end.
Many aspects of the story are purely for the writer to remember when events are supposed to happen. You cannot include every single piece of information in a limited amount of space. Make choices, select, adapt. Remember that it does not need to be perfect, but if you manage to be successful then your product might hang around for a very long time.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
A whole new world
There are some things you just do not wake up one day and decide to do. I never decided to be a scientist. I liked biology and math, so biology seemed like the logical major to follow. I also liked history, but my attraction to history seemed more of a hobby than a profession. I enjoyed doing research in the lab, so I continued that type of work all these years.
I never woke up one day and decided to write a novel. I did wake up many times in college with stories in my head that just needed to make their way into my journals. I needed to stop thinking about them and writing them down was the quickest way to get closure. However, one of those short stories kept nudging my mind like a recurring dream for years. I started giving it a setting to flourish and before I realized it I had created a world for it to inhabit - not just a planet but a whole galaxy.
It took me years to take those words out of the journal and type them. It took me months to fill in the gaps and create the whole picture. And now there are seventy five thousand words staring at me. Twice the length of my dissertation.Where it goes from here only time will tell. There is a whole new world I now need to investigate.
I never woke up one day and decided to write a novel. I did wake up many times in college with stories in my head that just needed to make their way into my journals. I needed to stop thinking about them and writing them down was the quickest way to get closure. However, one of those short stories kept nudging my mind like a recurring dream for years. I started giving it a setting to flourish and before I realized it I had created a world for it to inhabit - not just a planet but a whole galaxy.
It took me years to take those words out of the journal and type them. It took me months to fill in the gaps and create the whole picture. And now there are seventy five thousand words staring at me. Twice the length of my dissertation.Where it goes from here only time will tell. There is a whole new world I now need to investigate.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The big puzzle
I was trying to think of what made me decide to be a scientist, and I just drew a blank. I do not ever remember having big ambitions; just a feeling that I could contribute to solving a piece of the puzzle. I always thought that life - the big picture - was a puzzle that could be solved a piece at a time as long as there were enough people willing to try.
In my opinion that is what scientists do: they figure things out, they learn about the unknown and make them known. For me it is not about the prizes or the recognition, but the small discoveries that help advance the process. The small triumphs of finding a piece that was not there before, or removing one that was placed wrong.
Throughout the last fifteen years I have been one of the scientist working on this project. I have been contributing little pieces to different parts of the big puzzle; albeit enjoying the challenges much more than the frustrations.The actual pieces have been very diverse, but I am sure they will all fit together at some point. Maybe it will not be in my lifetime, but one day I am certain they will.
In my opinion that is what scientists do: they figure things out, they learn about the unknown and make them known. For me it is not about the prizes or the recognition, but the small discoveries that help advance the process. The small triumphs of finding a piece that was not there before, or removing one that was placed wrong.
Throughout the last fifteen years I have been one of the scientist working on this project. I have been contributing little pieces to different parts of the big puzzle; albeit enjoying the challenges much more than the frustrations.The actual pieces have been very diverse, but I am sure they will all fit together at some point. Maybe it will not be in my lifetime, but one day I am certain they will.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Thoughts on Change
Today I had a serving of philosophy for breakfast. My almost 5 year-old was asking me if Luke in Star Wars Episode IV is the same person as Luke in Episode VI. He thinks they are different because he changed. I had to agree, as I do not think I am the same person I was years ago... and somehow I see less change in the mirror than when I look beyond it. If I try to pinpoint when or why it happened I draw a blank. As far as I can tell marriage didn't change me, neither did motherhood, but at some point last year I noticed I was thinking different thoughts.
I remember having a conversation with Dada about five years ago, while he was struggling with his tenure track position, where he was pointing out to me that he had enough other interests that if he did not make it in science he could do other things in life. I clearly remember thinking that for me it would be impossible to conceive a different route. I could not even envision the "not making it" part. When last year it hit me that I had left academia, without realizing it, I was struck for the first time with ideas of an alternate path. I also realized last year that I had interests outside of science, and my hobbies started shaping my thoughts to different ventures.
I would not go so far as to say I am disheartened with science and I am looking for a way out. I still love research and putting pieces together to solve scientific puzzles. I just do not want to do it all the time anymore. What I noticed is that there is more to me than just science. I am striving to seek balance in my life and incorporate all these newly discovered parts of me into a harmonious whole.
Dada seems to think that this is just a "35-year-old crisis" and everyone goes through it. Maybe it is... maybe it will pass. Or maybe it is one of those checkpoints in life where you are supposed to reassess your priorities and direction in order to move on to the next phase of your life. However, even if the outcome is constant and there is no change in direction, there are no guarantees that the subtle changes acquired during this period will not have marking effects later on. Only time will tell...
I remember having a conversation with Dada about five years ago, while he was struggling with his tenure track position, where he was pointing out to me that he had enough other interests that if he did not make it in science he could do other things in life. I clearly remember thinking that for me it would be impossible to conceive a different route. I could not even envision the "not making it" part. When last year it hit me that I had left academia, without realizing it, I was struck for the first time with ideas of an alternate path. I also realized last year that I had interests outside of science, and my hobbies started shaping my thoughts to different ventures.
I would not go so far as to say I am disheartened with science and I am looking for a way out. I still love research and putting pieces together to solve scientific puzzles. I just do not want to do it all the time anymore. What I noticed is that there is more to me than just science. I am striving to seek balance in my life and incorporate all these newly discovered parts of me into a harmonious whole.
Dada seems to think that this is just a "35-year-old crisis" and everyone goes through it. Maybe it is... maybe it will pass. Or maybe it is one of those checkpoints in life where you are supposed to reassess your priorities and direction in order to move on to the next phase of your life. However, even if the outcome is constant and there is no change in direction, there are no guarantees that the subtle changes acquired during this period will not have marking effects later on. Only time will tell...
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The conundrum of the vanities
I never thought of myself as a vain person. In my mind vanity was always associated with beauty, and I never considered myself beautiful. Even when I occasionally felt displeased with my appearance, I was never unhappy with it. I have always felt a healthy amount of self worth and I was always able to look past the mirror when the image was not to my liking.
Through the years I have encountered situations where I wish I could change some minor flaw that bothered me at the time. I remember consulting an orthodontist some years ago about my gathered front teeth. When the price came out at $5,000 I decided that vanity was not worth that much. I had the money saved up, but I could not see myself spending it on a "perfect smile" - especially considering all the other minor problems I could see in the mirror. I had never striven for perfection, and it seemed the wrong aspect to channel my efforts. After much deliberation, I ended up buying my husband a plasma screen with the money; something more worthy of the investment. And the whole family has enjoyed it all these years...
Now once again I am facing a similar conundrum... but this time the mirror is winning. I hate looking at the "mommy belly" I acquired after two 8+ lb babies and two cesarean sections. I am not overweight, but I still look pregnant. I hate being asked if I am expecting again. A year of abdominal exercises at the gym has produced unnoticeable results, as the muscles have separated in what is called diastasis recti. No amount of exercise will fix it.
I am contemplating having the muscles sewn back together. Not a tummy-tuck - no plastic surgery - just a laproscopic procedure to attach the muscles that have been separated during pregnancy. My condition is not bad enough to cause a hernia, so it is indeed a cosmetic procedure. My insurance will probably not cover it and the recovery of abdominal surgery is not very pleasant - I know...
However, is it really vanity or can it be referred to as well being? If it really - truly - bothers me and diminishes my feelings of self-contentment? Or have I misplaced my confidence and self-worth? My internal bonfires are raging....
Through the years I have encountered situations where I wish I could change some minor flaw that bothered me at the time. I remember consulting an orthodontist some years ago about my gathered front teeth. When the price came out at $5,000 I decided that vanity was not worth that much. I had the money saved up, but I could not see myself spending it on a "perfect smile" - especially considering all the other minor problems I could see in the mirror. I had never striven for perfection, and it seemed the wrong aspect to channel my efforts. After much deliberation, I ended up buying my husband a plasma screen with the money; something more worthy of the investment. And the whole family has enjoyed it all these years...
Now once again I am facing a similar conundrum... but this time the mirror is winning. I hate looking at the "mommy belly" I acquired after two 8+ lb babies and two cesarean sections. I am not overweight, but I still look pregnant. I hate being asked if I am expecting again. A year of abdominal exercises at the gym has produced unnoticeable results, as the muscles have separated in what is called diastasis recti. No amount of exercise will fix it.
I am contemplating having the muscles sewn back together. Not a tummy-tuck - no plastic surgery - just a laproscopic procedure to attach the muscles that have been separated during pregnancy. My condition is not bad enough to cause a hernia, so it is indeed a cosmetic procedure. My insurance will probably not cover it and the recovery of abdominal surgery is not very pleasant - I know...
However, is it really vanity or can it be referred to as well being? If it really - truly - bothers me and diminishes my feelings of self-contentment? Or have I misplaced my confidence and self-worth? My internal bonfires are raging....
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The unmarked road...
I have been at my new job for a year and a month now, but I noticed I have written very little about work this past year. I wrote about how I came about this project, and how unexpectedly my extremely bumpy road went smooth. The craziness in my life seems to be always family-related, hence I have been writing more about those tidbits. I started thinking of how to write about work, but nothing occurred to me. And then I had to fill out a Gordon Conference application and I hit a question I could not answer. Am I working in academia, industry or government? My first reaction was "none of the above" - but that was not an option...
I work for a non-profit foundation; we are a group of ~15 research scientists under a head scientist who started this whole thing. We are independent from the University, even though most of us used to be associated with it. We have federal funding and we rent public office/lab space in town. We work on basic science, generating knowledge that will hopefully lead to future applications. Not your standard research setting...
At first it hit me that I might have left the academic pipeline by mistake, but there is no reason why this job would prevent me from rejoining a university in the future. The more I think about where I am and how I got here, the more I see myself on this unmarked road. I took a turn off the main road, which was full of bumps and traffic. This new road was not on my map, and, having turned off my GPS years ago, I am not sure where it leads. It has only minor bumps, and seems to go straight for miles.
However, there are no other cars on this road and no speed limit. I have to set my own pace and that has proven more difficult than I imagined at first. I find myself enjoying the scenery instead of putting the miles on the car. I stop and look around; I stop to smell the flowers. I do not feel like I am losing a race; I do not feel like I need to drive through the night. I am moving forward, but not at a highway pace. There is so much more than the road on this drive. And as I do not need to watch out for traffic and speeding cars with crazy drivers, I can look around more. I notice the sky, I notice the fields by which I drive. But most of all, I enjoy the drive itself.
I guess my lack of anxiety is due to the fact that this road keeps going and my gas tank is three quarters full. Maybe in a couple of years I will worry about whether there will be an exit for the highway at the end. Maybe I will start wondering if there is a gas station on this road... but for now I have no worries. As long as I keep moving I feel like I am getting somewhere - even if it is not where I had intended to go.
I work for a non-profit foundation; we are a group of ~15 research scientists under a head scientist who started this whole thing. We are independent from the University, even though most of us used to be associated with it. We have federal funding and we rent public office/lab space in town. We work on basic science, generating knowledge that will hopefully lead to future applications. Not your standard research setting...
At first it hit me that I might have left the academic pipeline by mistake, but there is no reason why this job would prevent me from rejoining a university in the future. The more I think about where I am and how I got here, the more I see myself on this unmarked road. I took a turn off the main road, which was full of bumps and traffic. This new road was not on my map, and, having turned off my GPS years ago, I am not sure where it leads. It has only minor bumps, and seems to go straight for miles.
However, there are no other cars on this road and no speed limit. I have to set my own pace and that has proven more difficult than I imagined at first. I find myself enjoying the scenery instead of putting the miles on the car. I stop and look around; I stop to smell the flowers. I do not feel like I am losing a race; I do not feel like I need to drive through the night. I am moving forward, but not at a highway pace. There is so much more than the road on this drive. And as I do not need to watch out for traffic and speeding cars with crazy drivers, I can look around more. I notice the sky, I notice the fields by which I drive. But most of all, I enjoy the drive itself.
I guess my lack of anxiety is due to the fact that this road keeps going and my gas tank is three quarters full. Maybe in a couple of years I will worry about whether there will be an exit for the highway at the end. Maybe I will start wondering if there is a gas station on this road... but for now I have no worries. As long as I keep moving I feel like I am getting somewhere - even if it is not where I had intended to go.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Life as my alter-ego
I wrote a short story while in college about a girl who switches places with her alter-ego for a day. They go about their day as they would normally, but their different attitudes impact their surroundings. They slightly modify each other's life, mainly by creating or dismissing opportunities. I was trying to work out that the little things in daily life could have an impact in my future just as much as the big decisions I made. These small doors that open and shut each day, and go mostly unnoticed...
My major goal in college was to turn into the person I wanted to be - not only heading towards a carrier in science, but also stepping out of the shy and introverted persona I had acquired through middle- and high-school. I wanted to stop living in my mind: I wanted to be the person who lived in my mind - the one who did the same things but differently...
Looking back, the turning point happened after I took a philosophy course. I felt lost as the physical world crumbled around me. Like Sophie, my mind opened up to the possibilities and nothing seemed real anymore. It took me a week or two to recover from that surreal experience, but the person who stepped back into the world was not the one who left it. I was more attuned to the world around me and more proactive.
Some days I still wonder where I would be if I had made different choices, but I don't regret any of the ones I made. The scenarios that pop into my head are not any more enticing than the world in which I live. The things I would have to do without are more important to me than what I would maybe gain. But it is still fun to think about the possibilities, and what life would be like as my alter-ego...
My major goal in college was to turn into the person I wanted to be - not only heading towards a carrier in science, but also stepping out of the shy and introverted persona I had acquired through middle- and high-school. I wanted to stop living in my mind: I wanted to be the person who lived in my mind - the one who did the same things but differently...
Looking back, the turning point happened after I took a philosophy course. I felt lost as the physical world crumbled around me. Like Sophie, my mind opened up to the possibilities and nothing seemed real anymore. It took me a week or two to recover from that surreal experience, but the person who stepped back into the world was not the one who left it. I was more attuned to the world around me and more proactive.
Some days I still wonder where I would be if I had made different choices, but I don't regret any of the ones I made. The scenarios that pop into my head are not any more enticing than the world in which I live. The things I would have to do without are more important to me than what I would maybe gain. But it is still fun to think about the possibilities, and what life would be like as my alter-ego...
Friday, June 5, 2009
What do you know?
Kathleen V. Kudlinski has a great set of books about science and scientists. My 3 year old received "Boy, Were We Wrong About Dinosaurs!" as a gift from my in-laws and we enjoyed it so much that I bought "Boy, Were We Wrong About the Solar System" to add to our library. These are the kinds of books that show children that science is fun. Moreover, they portray scientists as young people, women & men, having fun with their work. They also expose kids to the scientific method and how what you know depends on how you interpret the data. Both books address how scientists reinterpret data and adapt their models to incorporate new data. The only things set in stone are the actual fossils...
One cannot understand science without taking into account the scientific method. An observation leads to a hypothesis. Experiments are performed to test this hypothesis and the data either supports it or not. The hypothesis is valid if it doesn't crumble under pressure. Once the data gathered starts forming a picture, one can propose a model. Any new data will be incorporated into the model or will lead to a reevaluation. With enough experiments giving it strength, a theory can be proposed. In science there is no such thing as "just a theory". All these scientific terms are strictly defined, but somehow not clearly defined to most people.
The misuse of the word "theory" irritates me incredibly, especially when one is trying to convey science to the general public. With so many theories right and left, no one will pay attention to the real ones. I am impressed that scientific journalism in major newspapers is not held to more stringent copy editing, nor major novel writers. Dan Brown's Deception Point was particularly aggravating because it portrayed a group of top notch scientists discussing data and assumptions. The first time one of them said "my theory is..." they should have been shot down with a "you mean hypothesis, right?". He missed a great opportunity to set a good example...
Apart from the faux pas on scientific terminology, Dan Brown's book was pretty good. It reminded me about how data interpretation can be founded on assumptions. And those assumptions might be incorrect or biased. A lot of what we know is based on assumptions, which, if shown to be incorrect, will lead to a reevaluation of the data that was interpreted based on those assumptions. Proof, truth... these are words that express absolutes. It is a lot easier to prove something wrong than to say it is right.
Part of my passion for science has always been the ever changing body of knowledge - the new discoveries, the reinterpretation of what we thought we knew. One of my favorite quotes, which really defined science for me, is from the movie Men in Black (1997):
I can guarantee that you will know you were wrong about something...
One cannot understand science without taking into account the scientific method. An observation leads to a hypothesis. Experiments are performed to test this hypothesis and the data either supports it or not. The hypothesis is valid if it doesn't crumble under pressure. Once the data gathered starts forming a picture, one can propose a model. Any new data will be incorporated into the model or will lead to a reevaluation. With enough experiments giving it strength, a theory can be proposed. In science there is no such thing as "just a theory". All these scientific terms are strictly defined, but somehow not clearly defined to most people.
The misuse of the word "theory" irritates me incredibly, especially when one is trying to convey science to the general public. With so many theories right and left, no one will pay attention to the real ones. I am impressed that scientific journalism in major newspapers is not held to more stringent copy editing, nor major novel writers. Dan Brown's Deception Point was particularly aggravating because it portrayed a group of top notch scientists discussing data and assumptions. The first time one of them said "my theory is..." they should have been shot down with a "you mean hypothesis, right?". He missed a great opportunity to set a good example...
Apart from the faux pas on scientific terminology, Dan Brown's book was pretty good. It reminded me about how data interpretation can be founded on assumptions. And those assumptions might be incorrect or biased. A lot of what we know is based on assumptions, which, if shown to be incorrect, will lead to a reevaluation of the data that was interpreted based on those assumptions. Proof, truth... these are words that express absolutes. It is a lot easier to prove something wrong than to say it is right.
Part of my passion for science has always been the ever changing body of knowledge - the new discoveries, the reinterpretation of what we thought we knew. One of my favorite quotes, which really defined science for me, is from the movie Men in Black (1997):
1500 years ago, everybody "knew" that the earth was the center of the universe.
500 years ago, everybody "knew" that the earth was flat
...
Imagine what you'll "know" tomorrow.
I can guarantee that you will know you were wrong about something...
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Imperfect thoughts
I woke up today thinking about perfection, and how I unconsciously strive to achieve it. This train of thought probably crept into my mind because I have a paper to write that is far from perfect. I'm missing an experiment that I know would make the story more complete, but I don't have the time to go back to postdoc lab #2 to do it. Hence my writer's block, I think more about what I do not have than what I do.
I had an art teacher in high school who claimed that he did not give As to students because only G-d and he were perfect. When I got an A on a project in his class I realized he was probably not perfect either, as he could not spot my imperfections. My technique was far from perfect. But those were the early 1990s, when the existence of perfection was in question. Even Superman died...
My current postdoc mentor deems that perfection prevents progress, and I'm starting to agree with him... at least in my current scenario. I will be starting a new job in April and my goal is to start with a clean slate. No more "finishing up" while running back and forth between the old and the new. No more trying to work in two (or three) labs at the same time. My mission for these next couple of months is to tie up all my loose ends as best I can. And this includes writing up the paper as it stands today, without the what ifs.
I had an art teacher in high school who claimed that he did not give As to students because only G-d and he were perfect. When I got an A on a project in his class I realized he was probably not perfect either, as he could not spot my imperfections. My technique was far from perfect. But those were the early 1990s, when the existence of perfection was in question. Even Superman died...
My current postdoc mentor deems that perfection prevents progress, and I'm starting to agree with him... at least in my current scenario. I will be starting a new job in April and my goal is to start with a clean slate. No more "finishing up" while running back and forth between the old and the new. No more trying to work in two (or three) labs at the same time. My mission for these next couple of months is to tie up all my loose ends as best I can. And this includes writing up the paper as it stands today, without the what ifs.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The 80% rule
Years ago, I read in a magazine that there is no perfect time to have kids. If you are 80% sure you want them, go ahead because you won't get much closer to that 100%. At the time I thought that was a bit silly, but it turned out to be true. And I found myself applying that 80% rule to many other decisions in my life. While I might wonder how things could have turned out differently, I have not regretted any of the decisions I made. I'm not an impulsive person, I ponder quite a bit. But one can ponder forever and not accomplish anything...
I got married while in grad school and, as most relationships go, it wasn't really planned. It felt right enough for me to blurt out one day after dinner that I thought we should get married. The answer I got was 'OK, I'll call your bluff' and a beautiful ring that I wouldn't have done any better picking out myself. I wasn't bluffing, but I wasn't 100% sure either. I was anticipating a long engagement, because I wasn't sure I could take the time and plan the "big fat Brazilian wedding" I wanted. We ended up having 3 weddings, and by the end of the year my husband said he was done getting married, for life.
All that wedding stuff delayed my PhD defense for about 6 months, as I wasn't quite done. I realized later that I would never be. I could keep planning experiments my whole life. But one needs papers and I had to write things up. So I did, when I thought it was 80% there. Then I added the few extra experiments the reviewers suggested, and I still thought it was only 80%. I'm writing 2 papers now, and for both I have about 80% of the data. My contract has ended and I have only a few weeks before I move on. I wish I had an extra 6 months, but I'm sure I would think it was only 80% complete then too.
I believe I also used the 80% rule when picking my post docs. The labs seemed to be the right place for me to learn what I wanted. Were they my best choice? They could have been better, but I don't regret either of them. And both mentors were very understanding when I announced my pregnancies. I don't regret those at all, and the timing seems to have worked out well. I was told by a pregnant post doc during grad school that post docs were the best time to have kids. I took her advice, but I don't think there is a best time. I can feel the setback, but I don't think any other time would have been better. Either you want them or you don't. And if you do, just have them when you are 80% sure.
I got married while in grad school and, as most relationships go, it wasn't really planned. It felt right enough for me to blurt out one day after dinner that I thought we should get married. The answer I got was 'OK, I'll call your bluff' and a beautiful ring that I wouldn't have done any better picking out myself. I wasn't bluffing, but I wasn't 100% sure either. I was anticipating a long engagement, because I wasn't sure I could take the time and plan the "big fat Brazilian wedding" I wanted. We ended up having 3 weddings, and by the end of the year my husband said he was done getting married, for life.
All that wedding stuff delayed my PhD defense for about 6 months, as I wasn't quite done. I realized later that I would never be. I could keep planning experiments my whole life. But one needs papers and I had to write things up. So I did, when I thought it was 80% there. Then I added the few extra experiments the reviewers suggested, and I still thought it was only 80%. I'm writing 2 papers now, and for both I have about 80% of the data. My contract has ended and I have only a few weeks before I move on. I wish I had an extra 6 months, but I'm sure I would think it was only 80% complete then too.
I believe I also used the 80% rule when picking my post docs. The labs seemed to be the right place for me to learn what I wanted. Were they my best choice? They could have been better, but I don't regret either of them. And both mentors were very understanding when I announced my pregnancies. I don't regret those at all, and the timing seems to have worked out well. I was told by a pregnant post doc during grad school that post docs were the best time to have kids. I took her advice, but I don't think there is a best time. I can feel the setback, but I don't think any other time would have been better. Either you want them or you don't. And if you do, just have them when you are 80% sure.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Coffee? No thanks!
I received an e-mail this week from a relative with one of those "inspirational" power point presentations. It was about a cook that had three pans of boiling water. To the first one he added a carrot, which went from hard to limp. To the second he added an egg, which went from fragile to hard. And to the third he added coffee grounds. The presentation asked me whether I faced challenges like the carrot, turning limp; the egg, hardening; or coffee, transforming the challenge into something better. The show ended wishing that I was like coffee.
I guess normal people would just delete it or forward it, either thinking they are like coffee anyway or wishing they were. But somehow it got me thinking... Do I want to, after five years of cultivation, be toasted and ground, then after creating something wonderful at the first challenge, be discarded while others enjoy what I made? Not at all!
It hit me that this is what probably happens to most PhD. The graduate school where I got mine even gives out a bumper sticker with the statement "Phinally Done." I looked at it and said 'No way! I just got started!'. I truly hope my career doesn't end up like coffee... But I guess I'm the one who needs to make it into something different. I haven't come up with a better metaphor for what I would like to be... but I'll keep thinking about it.
I guess normal people would just delete it or forward it, either thinking they are like coffee anyway or wishing they were. But somehow it got me thinking... Do I want to, after five years of cultivation, be toasted and ground, then after creating something wonderful at the first challenge, be discarded while others enjoy what I made? Not at all!
It hit me that this is what probably happens to most PhD. The graduate school where I got mine even gives out a bumper sticker with the statement "Phinally Done." I looked at it and said 'No way! I just got started!'. I truly hope my career doesn't end up like coffee... But I guess I'm the one who needs to make it into something different. I haven't come up with a better metaphor for what I would like to be... but I'll keep thinking about it.
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