Hello readers!
Right now I’m at the Society for Neuroscience meeting in Washington D.C. It’s my second time at SFN and my first in Washington D.C., and I’m having a marvelous time at both :). Well, as much as I can see of Washington D.C., that is—our hotel is wonderfully located six blocks away from the Convention Center, so I’ve seen a total of about 10 blocks of the area, specifically the walk from the hotel to the conference with many loops through Chinatown for food :).
Every year, the Society for Neuroscience has an enormous conference hosted in San Diego, Washington D.C., Chicago, or New Orleans. Last year was San Diego, which makes this year Washington. SFN is the largest gathering of neuroscientists in the world—almost 30,000 of us grouped together in a convention center for five days of lectures and poster sessions. We have the option to go to the Presidential Lectures, housed in cavernous halls that can hold almost everyone, minisymposia, more general lectures that draw hundreds of people, and nanosymposia, more specific lectures with less than an hundred. We can also browse the floor where biotech companies and other industries have set up camp to show their newest products (and hand out free stuff, for broke undergraduates :)). Finally, I have been spending more time at the poster sessions this year, where individuals describe their work for anyone who wants to come up and listen. The poster session hall is a mile of posters, extending farther than you can see—it takes something like twenty minutes to walk along the edge of the rows, and I can’t even imagine how long it would take to snake through them all.
I’m currently in the midst of writing a research proposal for my 9.71 class, Functional Basis of Human MRI, so along with attending lectures I have been finding places to hide out and research and write. The funny thing is that there are so many of us here that everyone’s trying to do the same thing—there are people dotting the halls everywhere, hidden in corners, leaned up against the sides of the huge, open stairwells, converged in little clusters around the outlets and stranded whenever there are lone, wayward chairs. The space is huge, and we’re covering all of its blue carpeting, 30,000 people finding their way into lecture rooms or settling on the floor. Laptops and phones are everywhere, and overheard conversations are science, science, science. I got stuck when I was writing my paper, which is on the representation of “self” versus “other” information in the medial prefrontal cortex (mPFC, a region of the brain very close to your forehead), so I grabbed my backpack and shuffled my way down two stories to the poster session room. Using my booklet I found which posters were discussing human social cognition (letters SS through RR, on the opposite side of the room as letters S through R), and walked up and down between the rows peering at posters looking for “mPFC.” I found some, went and listened to the presenters, waited my turn and asked all sorts of questions, and learned quite a bit about how mPFC is organized. Plus, how to do functional connectivity on mPFC. Plus, what functional connectivity is. I can’t even describe how fascinatingly weird this experience is, readers—here I am, writing a paper for one of my undergraduate classes, and at any point I can go downstairs and talk to experts in the subject. At one point, I was looking up someone to cite in my paper, and I was like—“hey, I should check out if they’re here!” Just grab the “Author Index” booklet, look them up—and there they are, with one of their graduate students presenting a poster on Tuesday. Fascinatingly, wonderfully, amazingly weird :).
I am having such a good time with the people I’m with, as well. Every year I grow more confortable with the conference, with the lab, with the people, and myself. Before my trip to Nicaragua last year, I worried if I didn’t eat fruit or vegetables every day. Before this year, I was extremely stressed if I didn’t get enough sleep. Last year I felt more awkward in the get-togethers at bars, was more uncomfortable with the fact that I don’t drink and didn’t necessarily know everyone at a social. I’m comfortable with my place in this lab and with the people in it, and know what to expect from them and from this conference. Everything is entirely on my own terms, and what great terms they are.
This feels like a vacation—and the best kind. Every morning, I wake up from a luxurious hotel bed, surrounded by four other people who are whispering with deference to the late-wakers. Some of us head to the conference, and some stay in bed, typing on our laptops and bursting into conversation occasionally. We head to lunch in Chinatown, five blocks walking distance, to eat Asian-American food in restaurants, which doesn’t get any better. We head to the conference to learn, read, and write, and we’re free to wander on our own and seek out whatever we want to do.
In the evening we have dinner together, maybe in pairs, maybe with other friends—some of us go drinking, or go to socials, or work out. We’re all working, plugging away on projects, but with a break within easy reach—the spark of conversation, or in the daytime a lecture or two. Food, matchless intellectual stimulation, sleep, and friends and roommates who respect each other. And everyone busy and engaged and working. It really doesn’t get better than that :).
That’s all I’ve got, readers! I’m pretty blissed out here in D.C. Wellesley can pay for these trips if you present a poster at any part of the conference (we present at the Faculty for Neuroscience Social, a small event) and apply, and so we’re offered this golden ticket with no snags. I’m going to go back to the group, see what more they’re talking about (probably science :)). Wishing you all the best for the week, and so much thanks for what I have.
Monica