Like Whoa

Hey readers :).

I know I say this every time, but I feel like ages have past since my last post. Which admittedly was a Sunday, and now I’m posting on Tuesdays, but the sheer amount of stuff you can pack into a day in college blows my mind. Where to start? I’ve come up with at least four openings since sitting down, but here’s the most recent:

You know how whenever you run into a thesising senior on campus, the only thing they can talk about is their thesis? (You’re probably going to have to take my word on this, but wander over to any college with senior undergrad theses and you’ll see what I’m talking about. This especially applies to science majors :)).

Previous to beginning the school year, I thought that this existential thesis angst was awfully silly. You’re only working for 10-12 hours per week on this, which is what most science majors have been doing for the past several years through research independent study. Plus, you’re supposed to have all of your data collection done throughout the summer.

… Well :). Really, I should know by this point that for any activity in which you’re told as participants that “it will bring you closer,” there’s going to be some waterfalls to wade through first!

Yet even as we each walk through our own brief downpours (already, I have friends who don’t have a project, whose advisor just went on sabbatical, who is sharing equipment with another lab, or accidentally lost her product and will have to spend another week remaking it, etc. ;)) I can’t think of a time when we are more ready for this. As seniors, we are settled in our academics and interests. We knew we wanted to thesis, and cleared out time in our schedules. We have a solid network of advisors to turn to. We’re already kind of cocky, so it can’t hurt to take us down a little. We have a lot of research experience, especially in the lab we’re working in. And most of all, we have our friends. The tightest friends we’ve ever had, bound by years worth of experiences, available at the tap of a text message, many of them going through exactly the same thing as we are. This is going to be a bonding experience. I’m already feeling it.

And though a lot of us are confused by the water (heh. I can be a slow learner), some of us are already making enormous progress. There are five thesising students in the neuroscience department, and Emily, who’s my closest friend within the department, said she made a graph today that answered the research question she’d posed over the summer. Let me first say that the research she and her labmates had done over the summer has resulted in a high-profile publication about the origin of neurogenesis. “I just need to run a follow-up experiment,” she told me, as I looked at her, grinning. “That’s an original, publishable finding!” was all I could reply. Then we just smiled at each other for a while.

…Science :).

…

So that was my first beginning to this post, and my next one is on a completely related note. This year, it’s all about being a senior, and being a senior comes with applications. It doesn’t particularly matter what applications—medical school, graduate school, job searches, etc. Some are worse than others (the number of med school essays boggles), but we’ve all got applications.

Mine (a research proposal and a personal statement) are proving to be some of most informative in my life.

I have spent quite a number of hours recently lying on the carpeted floor of my dorm room, equipped with a notebook and pencil to scrawl thoughts on (you know it’s serious when I stop taking notes on my computer :)). Thoughts about my strengths, my weaknesses, my experience, my interests: “What do you care about? What questions motivate you? What have been your most important experiences?” And then, once a draft of the personal statement was written, more hours spent in front of the computer, reading about research labs, reading research papers, figuring out what defines the field, writing a research proposal of where I am and where I see myself in the future. Coming up with research questions, searching for the transcendent intellectual passion.

And to my surprise, I’ve kind of found it. Figured out which labs I’d like to work in, have an effervescent vision for what I’d like to study in the future. It took far less time than I thought—days rather than weeks, and often sudden realizations within an hour. It’s been affirming. And also difficult. Because there is so much here that is new for me, even though I’ve lived through all of these experiences before.

We spend our lives telling ourselves stories, laying narratives onto past events. It is utterly magical to have a narrative coalesce, and sometimes I look at these drafts and am amazed at the banked passion within them. Sometimes I hand them to others to look over, and wonder if I have what it takes to go on in this field. “Male dominated” doesn’t really register until you’re scrolling through all the lab pictures. “Your writing needs to be more science-oriented,” you hear, and you wonder if it’s because you’re not.

Or if, and I believe this one, it’s because you haven’t learned to write like that yet.

It’s hard to keep the bigger picture in mind, remember that life’s all about learning, that we’re not static creatures who are expected to know how to do everything, now. That as much as I’ve learned about myself recently, that I’ll learn more later. That my intrinsic interests are one thing, but they’re flexible and they evolve. That I can learn how to write how I need to, that people overcome far greater challenges than these, that I have been so fortunate in my experiences that the worst thing in my way is self-doubt.

I’m getting constructively criticized, and it’s so valuable. I’m grateful to have people who will look over my thoughts for me, make sure I’m on my way, and do their best to help me keep growing. I have people who care enough for me, when a few years ago I was a complete stranger, to now willingly invest time and energy in teaching me what I need to know. It’s hard (growing’s always hard), but the best things always are. I think of where I am sometimes—  a senior neuroscience major at Wellesley College, taking half her classes at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in Dr. Bevil Conway’s lab, working with Dr. Ellen Hildreth, taking classes from leaders in their fields—and I don’t know what to say.

I can do this. I belong there. Just because I haven’t been pushed recently doesn’t mean I can’t be pushed now. Just because others might be saying so doesn’t mean I should stand down. So much of who we are is the narratives we tell ourselves.

…

… Can I tell you how much I’m going to miss it here? I’m going to miss it so much here. I have all the great food I could want (“not relevant,” you might say. “SO RELEVANT!” I say back), my college life completely sorted (classes, blogging, research, classes—no stress, just work I know how to do), a safe and loving community (I’m still making friends here. Mind boggles, again), and a culture of “Women Who Will” (everything I just expressed up there? Straight out of the Wellesley zeitgeist. I would have earned a round of snapping. That’s what we do for emotional group support :P).

I have perfect days here: yesterday was a perfect day. I got up late. I had a lunch with a new first-year I just met. I researched labs. I went to CS help room. Prof. Hildreth was absolutely wonderful and totally didn’t need to but sent me papers for my thesis. I had dinner with Alice and Jeanne and Amy. I wrote essays and sent them off. I worked out and read some quality writing. I finished my Neur 300 homework, and marked that paper for later review, because they’re talking about closed-loop neural prosthetics, and if DARPA isn’t sci-fi I don’t know what is.

At Wellelsey, I have complete control of my schedule, and my obligations and activities. I have a fantastic schedule with classes that are daily fascinating. I’ve got hoards of crazy thesis students to hang out with; I’ve got professors who always, always check their emails. I’m growing as a person, and I’m supported in my growing. And I have friends around, always, different groups and different people fifteen minutes away maximum and I’d love to spend years with them all.

Prospective first-year students, I don’t want to leave Wellesley. Sometimes I wanted to leave high school—felt like I was ready for the next thing. Not here. There are too many good things and too many new things to leave. No wonder they kick us out at the end of four years :).

…

Much love to all of you, readers. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t my last opening, but it’s just as well. This blog continues to be so cathartic for me, and I hope it’s informative to you too. I’d love to take comments and questions, and until then, see you next time :).

Monica