Thoughts | DEZERAECOX

Year in review: 2020 Edition

Sun, 14 Mar 2021 10:40:50 +0000

Year in review: 2020 Edition

2020 was… A year that felt like a decade, but with the productivity of a boozy long weekend. In case you haven’t been on planet earth for the entire year (hello friend, teach me your secrets), it was of course the year in which a coronavirus (specifically SARS-Cov2) emerged and rapidly took over the globe.

The ensuing pandemonium was slow to build, and even slower to resolve. In fact, most countries around the world are still living with some form of social restrictions aimed at controlling transmission and preventing severe infection. We’ve since entered a recession, predicted by many to be the largest since the global financial crisis. Most importantly, many people lost their lives to the virus, and many more still have a severe and long-lasting illness.

I am fortunate enough to live in a country with very low infection rates and virtually no community transmission, and so life has returned to a post-virus normal. But (of course, there is always a but) to achieve this hefty goal, we as a community endured the longest and harshest lockdown conditions seen anywhere around the globe for almost a year. Make no mistake; it was essential and worthwhile. However, it was also eye-opening, isolating, disruptive and challenging. And as well as being a bench biologist who couldn’t get to the bench, I faced the lockdown separated by state borders from my partner, family and friends. To say it was mentally tough would be a colossal understatement, and despite this I am well aware of many who faced worse than me.

So, in acknowledging that no two experiences of 2020 were alike, I decided to stick with my traditional by-the-numbers account of the past year. You’ll find wins few and far between, more than a handful of losses, and a list of goals that looked a little different from start to finish. Finally, I look to the future and set my sights on recovery in 2021.

Wins

A snapshot of the high points

I survived 2020. I think that certainly belongs in the win column, don’t you?
I read three books, and reviewed one.
I published five blog posts totalling 6500 words, which were viewed 1557 times by 833 different visitors from more than 10 countries
I contributed my first to an online publication
I published my first , providing analysis tools for researchers considering applying for NHMRC funding
I worked over 2500 hours, more than 40% of which went towards submitting my first first-author postdoctoral paper for review to a top-tier journal
Five manuscripts I contributed to were officially published
I slept an average of 7 hours and 5 minutes
I overhauled my entire organisation system, from code to experiments to publications
I created and published not but science-communication videos as part of my first official scicomm training worskhop
I organised and hosted 17 Departmental seminars from a diverse group of researchers spanning career stages and countries - and made a successful transition to virtual when the pandemic hit!
I gave 2 invited seminars, and attended 3 virtual conferences

Losses

A not-so-snappy shot of the low points

Another year with no published first-author manuscripts, despite furiously writing for most of the year
My first-author paper was rejected from 4 different journals before even being sent out for peer review
Almost one fifth of the hours I worked were spent on emails and other administrative tasks
I didn’t write a single grant or application
I downloaded 1084 papers, and read less than 10% of them
I started 4 books that I didn’t finish
I didn’t publish blog posts in 7 out of 12 months
My coding projects are still still in a state of disarray, in desperate need of a tidy and some documentation
I only averaged 3817 steps per day
I was, perhaps, 50% productive on any given day

Lessons

The bits I wish I knew at the start of 2020, but had to learn the hard way.

Selfish isn’t a dirty word - for much of 2020 I struggled with the feeling of being a bad friend, bad partner, bad lab mate, bad family member as I weathered the storm of Victoria’s lockdown alone. I was lonely, unhealthy, unmotivated and struggling to keep my head above water and still I felt uncommitted to the many relationships in my life I let languish during this period. But in reality, I didn’t have anything to give - and I needed to be selfish, to rebuild my own mental health, to redefine my sense of self in this weird and wonderful (?) new world we were suddenly inhabiting. And it took me a long time to be ok with this idea of a self-centred approach to wellbeing. After all, you can’t pour from an empty cup.
Working from home and living at work are two entirely separate things - At the start of 2020 there was an abundance of tips about productive workspaces, setting routines, engaging in your normal ready-for-work activities, setting aside time each day to step away from work…. As someone who has had the luxury of a few work-from-home days in the past that yielded astounding levels of productivity, I was initially optimistic about the opportunities a few onths of working from home presented. It was only a few weeks into what would turn out to be a year long work-from-home order, before I realised how sorely mistaken I was. This was not the quiet, focused time I had enjoyed pre-pandemic, but clouded, overcast and gloomy time spent doom-scrolling, feeling unengaged and unenthusiastic about the prospect of another day spent alone in my home-office. It was a few months in that I came across the phrase living at work, and it struck home how insidiously this transition had happened. Despite having a separate work space, work never really left my home space in the way that I could leave the work office, and I came to realise how important the role of our choice is in this regard.
Variety is the spice of life - Ok, I know this one is a little cliché. And yet, if you’d asked me a year ago I would have adamantly told you that I am a person who is fond of organisation, planning and routines. From breakfast meals to shampoo brands to pens to friends - I am a creature of habit. I know what I like, and I surround myself with it. I structure my time. I plan and organise weeks, months, years in advance and I work toward goals with almost singular focus. And yet, this year almost every single one of those things was thrown completely out the window. It was impossible to plan a week in advance (or even a day sometimes). I found myself missing those spontaneous interruptions to my calendar or walks for coffee with random colleagues during the day. I missed the variety of faces on the tram each morning, and instead sought out variety in walking routes to new cafes for lunch as a poor surrogate. Most vividly I missed the usual spontaneity of a week in bench research science. Normally, each day is subtly different - a different experiment, or technique, this meeting versus that meeting, a new piece of code to work on or a new manuscript to write. Instead of this variety, life became a blur of zoom meetings, trudging forward on a single manuscript, and trying desperately to halt my doom-scrolling as we awaited daily case numbers and press conferences. I will never again take for granted the motivation a varied work day brings to my passion for science.

Goals

As with much about 2020, my goals unfortunately went promptly out the window around June. Even still, I finally submitted the first of three first-author postdoctoral research papers, and successfully created a growing community of Happy Hacker scientists who are learning to code. I started semi-regular yoga and implemented a new morning routine focused on engaging mindfully with the day ahead. While my writing here lagged severely, those posts I managed to write and publish are some of those I am most proud of. None of these things went according to plan, and it certainly wasn’t a glamorous insta-worthy road to ticking boxes. And yet, here we are, moving forward ever so slightly. So where to from here?

Papers are paramount. Déjà vu aside, with drafts still floating around in various states of disarray the first half of 2021 demands some serious focus on wrapping up the next two manuscripts. Using structured writing time of at least twenty hours a week, my goal is to have submitted the remaining two manuscripts before starting my next postdoctoral position mid-year. While last year writing sessions were often sidetracked by more ‘pressing’ needs, this year I will plan each session in advance, using calendar entries for accountability and a master task list for assigning goals and tracking progress.
Revamp the reading routine. Last year I hinted at a timely review of how I consume scientific literature. I’ve often pushed reading to the end of my to-do list and settled for skimming daily email alerts or saving an article or two from Twitter with some handwavy expectation of actually reading them. Instead, I want to not only find time for an engaged reading practice but also give myself space to really think about what I am reading, parlaying this into more (and better!) scientific insights. I will implement two reading sessions per week, drawing pre-selected articles from my ever-growing pile of exciting new material. This will be tracked using a database, which simultaneously enables detailed cross-connection between individual resources and developing insights and ideas within overarching project themes.
Commit to coding cleanup. One of the few positives to come from a year of working from home, coupled with a freshly-submitted manuscript combing computational analyses of wet-lab experiments, was a rapid expansion and solidification of my amateur coding skills. I am often pleasantly surprised when I realise just how far these skills have developed, and it makes me even more excited to pass them on during Hacky Hours each week. And yet, two packages I first wrote more than four years ago still languish, lacking love and in desperate need of refactoring. This is the year I commit to cleaning up these packages. I will spend an hour each week tackling small chucks, which will be tracked using GitHub issues and measured in milestones.
Invest in intentional. Sometimes a week can pass by and I barely realise due to a blur of endless triaging. These type of weeks tend to feel like an old-school cartoon where my wheels are spinning yet the car is going nowhere fast. My goal is to understand (and correct) my balance between the urgent but unimportant tasks that often fill my day (hellloooo email, I’m looking at you…), and the essential but non-urgent tasks that will be of most tangible benefit long term. Beyond task management, I will start each morning by writing down three intentions for the day, using these to anchor how my time is spent and as a record for reflection. I will also frame these intentions within the time management matrix, to ensure I am investing in long term progress by hitting small milestones each and every day.

2020 was without a doubt challenging and confronting and, just between you and I, 2021 was not looking to be off to a great start. After handing over my role in Melbourne and leaping out of my comfort zone, I landed in limbo - awaiting a revised start date for my international Fellowship, unemployed and uncertain of my direction for the first time in over a decade. And yet, here I am daring the universe by setting goals for the year ahead. From here, 2021 is about regrouping, recovering and recalibrating, readying for reentry to the world post-COVID. And I couldn’t be happier to have you along for the ride.

Image credits: @brookelark via

Learning to code: it's as easy and as complex as that.

Sun, 05 Jul 2020 15:12:56 +0000

Learning to code: it’s as easy and as complex as that.

Many life scientists have used their time under pandemic-induced lockdown to learn their first programming language. Yay! Coding has many many advantages (reproducibility, more complex analyses, reusability, time-saving) that I have espoused all too many times before.

Many people start with a tutorial or two, then jump straight in and analyse a dataset. They get a plot, maybe a few statistics and voila! They are now scientists who can code.

Kinda.

See, the thing is there is more (much more) to implementing programmatic workflows in a biological context. Unfortunately, these are the skills that intro-to-programming courses often fail to teach you (or sometimes even mention) - but without them, adding scripts to your workflow can often make your work less reproducible, not more. For the sake of the argument, lets pick one.

Version control.

Imagine a bowl of spaghetti (lots of lines of code), which you admire briefly before throwing at a canvas (your interpreter). You create a beautiful work of art (your plot), and stand back to admire your handiwork. Maybe you show it to a few friends, and they are super impressed. (Awesome!). And then they ask - how did you do it? Not just the throwing motion, or the rough distance between the bowl and the canvas. They want to know the precise location of every single strand of spaghetti in the bowl before you threw it at the canvas. They want to know the recipe you used for the sauce, down to the precise number of grams of oregano.

Now, of course, we aren’t actually talking about a bowl of spaghetti - we are talking about your code. So - of course - you can simply show them the script! Huzzah! The precise instructions that enabled you to make that very specific plot. But here’s the kicker. The code is not static. In fact, chances are that you poured over it for hours (maybe days) adjusting, tweaking, changing, testing and rerunning - all to get the glorious, awe-inspiring plot at the end.

By this stage, you’ve probably made over 100 spaghetti-splattered-spectacles (plots) and your house is starting to smell like an Italian Pizza joint. If I asked you to produce the exact recipe, down to the very position of each strand of spaghetti, for plot number 47 - could you do it?

My guess is probably no.

Conducting experiments is at the heart of science. However, without the essential extracurricular activities like maintaining backups, organising your results files and optimising project management systems, you wouldn’t last very long in academic research. The same is true of coding. Learning to write a functioning script is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to implementing reproducible computing workflows in biology.

So, with this in mind, what are those all important skills you ask? Well, luckily, far more experienced scholars than I have written on this topic and provided guides (like and ) for those starting out in the computational space. These are highly applicable to biologists learning to code, and I encourage you to check them out before you stray too far down the spaghetti-on-the-wall path (like I did). As with any system, it is easiest to implement new routines before you have become to set in the old ones! At the very least, here are a few things to consider:

, including Github/GitLab/BitBucket
, including efficient folder layouts
and docker containers
practices
, including repositories and citing software you use

For more, make sure you check out the resources below.

Oh, and one last thing.

Unfortunately, this type of organisational work is not typically measured as a key performance outcome for biologists. Your number of git repositories or test coverage for an analysis suite is unlikely to come up in an award nomination or promotion application. And yet, it is entirely crucial as we move toward bigger and more complicated data and analyses - and so I encourage you to take the time to learn anyway. Maybe one day it will be recognised as essential work by the powers that be - but until then, at the very least, it remains essential for anyone wanting to do good reproducible science. And who doesn’t want that?

Final thoughts

So you want to learn to code? Yes - do it, 100%. I honestly couldn’t recommend or encourage it more. But please do so mindfully. If you want to have the best possible chance of integrating this wonderful tool into your scientific ecosystem in the long-term, you have to lay solid foundations and develop sustainable practice/methods.

Have you used any of these techniques as a budding bench-to-bytes biologist? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Resources:

Image credits: Tomwsulcer via & olamishchenko via

Book Review: If I Understood You, Would I Have This Look on My Face?

Sat, 13 Jun 2020 03:57:13 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort not only to read more, but also to actively engage with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer might help me stay accountable and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

Down with the details:

Title: If I understood you, would I have this look on my face? My Adventures in the Art and Science of Relating and Communicating

Author: Alan Alda

Theme: Science Communication

Target audience: Good for everyone, Great for scientists

Overall thoughts:

A vibrant and engaging read that was over in a flash - but not before challenging my view of what it means to tell a story and the importance of communication in everything we do (not just science!)
Alda imparts many gems of wisdom of value for anyone who wants to communicate better - whether you are a scientist sharing your latest research or a partner trying to find a deeper connection with a loved one. In fact, one of the common threads Alda weaves is that in order to engage in effective communication, you must find common ground with your audience. Effective communication is a team effort.
These insights were borne from years of comedic brilliance coupled with dedicated cultivation of the scientific literature investigating method, efficiency and effectiveness of communication. Far from being dry, the narrative glistens with Alda’s characteristic warmth and conversational style making for a truly pleasurable read.
Some of my favourite tips and tricks were “The three rules of three”. To paraphrase:
- When talking to an audience, try to make no more than three points - any more than this are unlikely to stick.
- Try to explain difficult ideas in three different ways - provide your audience with the means to triangulate their way to an understanding, where they can use the conceptual description that most resonates with them
- Find a subtle way to make your ’take-home message’ three times - like a callback in comedy, use this to prompt retention and tie your story together
Overall, this was a fantastic new addition to my fledgeling extracurricular reading activities, and one I cannot recommend enough.

*Some of the best bits:**

… pretty much everybody misunderstands everybody else. Maybe not all the time, and not totally, but just enough to mess everything up.

The person who’s communicating something is responsible for how well the other person follows

- pg 30

… real conversation can’t happen if listening is just my waiting for you to finish talking

- pg 10

Would IQ be the most important factor, or was there some other deciding factor for a team’s success? … average intelligence of a group could not significantly predict the groups performance. - pg 56

- pg 58

Women’s social skills lead in part to better decision making overall and … gender diversity in particular facilitates creatvity

- pg 58

… assuming students are totally responsible for their own motivation … can lead researchers to blame group members for their lack of motivation.

- pg 59

Collaborators in a lab can listen to one another’s ideas, no matter how odd they are, and add constructively to them. … There is a lot of blocking that takes place in science, but Yes And frees ideas to grow

- pg 62

\[When communicating\]
knowing what they are ready to hear is critical, and coming in too early or too late
\[in the story\]
can be confusing

- pg 64

While leadership is important, just as important is how leadership is communicated

- pg 68

Good communication with the person you’re closest to may be the hardest challenge of them all

- pg 77

I value the opinions of people I disagree with. It’s the yin and yang of understanding.

- pg 111

The stereotypical view of empathy is that it makes you soft. On the contrary, when you have to be tough, empathy can be a useful tool.

- pg 125

The reader expects thoughts to be laid out in a certain order, and that effects how the reader reacts.

- pg 135

A couple of emotional words can often turn a recital of the facts into something more engaging that will stick in the mind

- pg 151

Emotion is not a broad-brush amplifier of all things … It doesn’t simply turn up the volume knob. The kind of emotion matters.

- pg 157

Our lives are filled with stories, and yet when we want to communicate something important to us we often forget there’s a story behind it

- pg 163

The trouble with a lecture is that it answers questions that haven’t been asked

- pg 169

In an experiment, you don’t always figure out in the end what you had hoped to figure out. In an experiment, in life, and in a good story, obstacles get in the way

- pg 173

At first it seems nonsensical that knowledge could be a burden, even a curse. The problem, of course, is not in the knowledge itself. The problem is when you can’t imagine what it’s like not to have that knowledge.

- pg 190

Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Those words rest on my desk and remind me almost every day that the ashes of failure can be a place of despair or they can be where the pheonix comes from.

- pg 194

* Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material and do not represent independently conceived ideas.

Handy links:

Buy the book
Follow Alan Alda on

Have you read any of Alan Alda’s work, or have another science-adjacent book you can recommend? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Image credits: cover photo

A year in review: 2019 edition

Fri, 31 Jan 2020 12:46:00 +0000

The holiday season is a time of reflection for many, me included. However, this was heightened this year, and somewhat hijacked, by the looming start of a new decade.

While there are plenty of discussions of why 2019 isn’t the end of the decade (like , and ), it did little to stem the tide of ten-year progress reports flooding . These outpourings of academic (and personal) success are often incredible and inspirational, but can also be overwhelming and disheartening for those of us who feel less accomplished.

So as is tradition, I decided to stick with my by-the-numbers account of the past year. You’ll find some wins, a handful of losses, and a few goals that looked a little different from start to finish. Finally, I look to the future and set my sights on kicking brand new goals in 2020.

Wins

A snapshot of the high points

I contributed to 4 manuscripts, of which 3 were posted as preprints
I completed my first independently-funded research project using funds totalling $40 000
I was awarded ~ $10 000 in travel awards
I attended 4 national and 2 international conferences
I presented 5 research talks, 2 posters and chaired an academic career development panel
I gave my first invited research seminar at my alma matta
I was awarded an international post-doctoral fellowship (!)
I performed over 45 (mostly week-long) experiments in just 159 working days, and over 75% of these gave useable results
I wrote or edited over 30 000 lines of code
I was an active member of 4 conference and professional committees, and an ordinary member of 4 professional societies
I directly supervised 3 students and informally mentored at least 4 others
I attended a 5-day leadership course, making 5 new connections that have blossomed into 3 new collaborative relationships
I accounted for each of my working days by posting a reflection to a purpose-built Instagram profile, receiving a total of 3191 likes
I authored 10 blog posts containing a total of 14 642 words, which received 5437 views from 3849 visitors across 36 different countries - more than half of these views were on a single post after I shared it with the Twitterverse!
I slept an average of 7 hours a night, did an average 6260 steps per day, and lost 12 kilograms
I read 1 1/2 more books than last year and completed 1/4 of my first ever attempt at cross stitch
I gave my very first tech talk at a local meetup group
I travelled to 3 countries and explored 5 new cities, and took 2571 photos
I spent 365 days being a partner, sister, colleague and friend - being a happy, (mostly!) healthy human

Losses

A snappier shot of the low points

Only one manuscript made it through the review process to be published
None of my first-author manuscripts are any closer to being submitted
Of the 431 papers I downloaded, I read less than 10% of them in full
I am not proud of my ‘bedside manner’, as I was impatient and frequently frustrated with students
I spent over 50 hours preparing 5 unsuccessful grant or fellowship applications
My coding projects are still in a state of disarray, in desperate need of a tidy and some documentation
I only read 3 1/2 books and put 12 kilograms back on
There were days where I barely slept 4 hours and struggled to make 1000 steps
I only took 11 days of leave, and was fuelled by stress and anxiety far more often than passion and curiosity

Lessons

The bits I wish I knew at the start of 2019, but had to learn the hard way.

You have to crawl before you can walk - academic conferences are great, especially the chance to travel internationally. However, you have to have the time and effort already committed to a project to have something new and interesting to present, and in turn to make the most out of the experience.
Time tracking - the more you know! There are already people using your personal data to sell you shoes and expensive holidays - why not use your personal data for good, not evil? Late in 2019, I started tracking how I spend my workday (keep an eye out for more details coming soon!), helping me refocus on my goals, dedicate productive time to important work and better plan my time for specific activities according to how long it had taken in the past.
The sunk-cost fallacy - Sometimes you have to cut your losses and move on, despite having invested so much time and effort and energy into one particular thing. If it’s not right, or not happening, maybe it never will be. And that’s ok - sometimes you have to empty some space to leave room for the next great thing, whether that’s the next big experiment or project, or the next townhouse or friendship. However…
Perseverance is key - every application makes your next application better. Although, being privileged enough to be able to persevere is a huge source of diversity challenge in academia. Appreciate when you have the option to continue chasing a dream, and not just when that dream becomes reality.
Decisions are hard - and making them can change the course of your life immediately, even in how you feel about the people around you.
Some people will never understand - and that’s on them, not you. Living your best life is unlikely to please everyone, so live a life you’re proud of and whether others understand your path or not is irrelevant.

Goals

This time last year I set some goals. This was a new approach to goal-setting for me, and I’m pleased that it worked (moderately) well! Physical activity was a consistent focus - even if only a short walk in the afternoon, I was conscious of the link between how my brain and body feel. I made substantial progress on building reflective practices and, last but not least, I landed the next job!

Building on this foundation, here are my goals for 2020

1. Papers are paramount. With a looming international move, I have a little over six months to tie-up all my projects and get my first-author manuscripts over the line. My goal is to finalise three publication-ready first-author manuscripts by April. With drafts floating around in various states of disarray, I will use structured writing time for at least eight hours a week to make focused progress. I will use calendar entries for accountability and maintain a master task list for tracking progress. I would also like to reorganise my reading and writing process and systems, but that’s a goal for another time!

2. Hacking hand-over. Part of the leadership course I attended encouraged us to think about ourselves as changemakers. This could result from our science, or more broadly our leadership, but nonetheless we were to imagine what change we wanted to make in the world over the next year. Then we had to plan it. Who would we connect with? What skills/tools did we need? I have always been a passionate advocate for programming for life scientists, and I would love to be the catalyst for this in our institute - to take the plan I sketched on paper (yes - real-life butchers paper!) and put it into action. My goal is to establish a local hacky hour at my institute, bringing together experienced, amateur and coding-curious researchers in a collaborative space to learn from each other. I will gather a small working group of researchers experienced in programming by the end of February, where we will brainstorm the best structure, location and time for meetups. The action items from that meeting will serve as a task list for tracking progress, and I will coordinate at least three hacky hours before handing over the reins when I move.

3. Blog better. Despite averaging one post per month last year, I felt there was a lack of substance with so many conference wrapups and few useful, practical or probative posts. The one obvious exception was a rather popular commentary on the state of NHMRC Investigator Grants. This was a combination of an important issue and a good coding project, and I would love to produce more content like this in the future. My goal is to continue posting at least once per month, of which half will pursue practical or probative themes. This will be easily tracked by my posting record here, so feel free to help me stay accountable!

4. Healthy is happy, and mindfulness matters. As I approach another decade of life (that’s right, a big three-oh this year), I am starting to appreciate that a healthy body and mind is not really something you can achieve. There is no box to tick to say you are done, and there isn’t really a finish line. A commitment to maintaining your physical and psychological health is lifelong, and relapses will happen when you aren’t paying attention. My goal is to recover my healthy habits, focusing on yoga and reflections once a week. My progress will be easily tracked by my health app (thanks technology!), and I will continue to maintain my purpose-built Instagram account with weekly posts. For the safety of me and my lab mates, that account will stay anonymous - but it serves as a neat record for me at least!

2019 was undoubtedly one of the hardest, but most rewarding years yet. Just when I finally felt comfortable in my space and role in Melbourne, I landed an international Fellowship - a huge win that is equal parts exciting and terrifying. As they say, life begins at the edge of your comfort zone. So here’s to an adventurous, unknown 2020 - may it be filled with science, self-exploration and smiles.

Image credits: @brookelark via

Book Review: Spineless

Thu, 30 May 2019 12:27:33 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort, both to read more and to actively engage with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer this year might help me and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

The nitty-gritty details:

Title: Spineless: The Science of Jellyfish and the Art of Growing a Backbone

Author: Juli Berwald

Theme:

Jellyfish, general scientific concepts, academia and beyond, motherhood, self-discovery

Target audience:

Everyone

Overall thoughts:

Part travelogue, part memoir, part deep-dive (literally) into the world of jellyfish… Spineless should serve as inspiration for all of us to advocate for research and understanding of the current climate emergency from the perspective of our gelatenous sea-bound dinosaurs. Masterfully intertwined with recounts of her international jelly-finding adventures are details of Berwald’s quest to reclaim a creative space in the midst of family life.

We may span different generations, geographical locations and scientific fields - but I felt an undeniable sense of commeradery and connection with the sentiments throughout this book. Many times along the way I found myself grateful that there was someone else with shared experiences of academia. I also found comfort in the seeming inevitability of her attraction to science. It was so incredible to hear how one person can navigate the complicated spiderweb of academia to pursue a true thirst for knowledge.

Overall, this was a fascinating read for scientists and non-scientists alike. Contemporary, lighthearted and enlightening with amazing illustrations to boot.

**Some of the best bits*:**

What is clear is that the more we learn about these animals from our deep past, the more we will understand about the gnarled evolutionary tree that supports all the animals in the world, including ourselves.

pg 82

As my kids progressed through elementary school, jellyfish had become my own alternative school, a place where my mind could play, and explore, and expand, the intellectual playground that I craved.

pg 84

Gene mutation is always seeking diversity, coming up with innovation, pushing boundaries.

pg 85

… asked him why so many jellyfish were transparent. He looked at me as if I’d asked him why grasshoppers were green. The question is, why isn’t everything transparent?

pg 96

Passion pushes our curiousity, drives innovation, and breaks through boundaries. Economics makes rules, sets boundaries, and forces compromise.

pg 101

While we usually think of domestivation in terms of animals and plants, GFP has essentially become a domesticated gene. By being so useful to us, this single gene has circled the globe, transferred from petri dish in one lab to cell culture in another to your neighbourhood pet store.

pg 118

… your orientation in the world is one of the most important things you can know.

pg 127

There’s something very democratic and modern about this multiple-pacemaker arrangement, evolutionarily ancient as it may be. It is a completely diffuse yet incredibly functional system. The jellyfish’s nervous system is smart without being consolidated.

pg 136

The more we think the same thought, the more neurotransmitters and receptors we produce at that synapse. And so it goes until the memory’s physical structure is a robust synapse, connected by the flood of neurotransmitters and a field of receptors.

pg 140

“information isn’t knowledge; knowledge isn’t wisdom”

pg 156

We have to move beyond this age of combustion… The jellyfish are an alarm that says we are mismanaging our ecosystem. They are a symptom. The cause is our stupid behaviour. And there is nothing else.

pg 161

Given the mighty forces that drive our planet - volcanism, plate techtonics, magnetic storms - … our penchant for focusing on small issues
\[is\]
infuriating. “The planet isn’t going anywhere … We are. Pack your bags.”

pg 161

Even though I was miserable, the decision to quit academics came with a considerable amount of guilt. The scientific community had made an investment of nearly a decade in me. It had pair me, albeit frugally, during my training. And I walked away from it. A piece of me always felt that I left a debt unpaid.

pg 167

The low points - not the moments of joy - were the decisive moments in my life. I had almost never made a change when things were going well.

pg 177

This wasn’t about being capable; it was about being willing. Making a difference would require our collective intention and effort. It would mean growing a spine.

pg 179

You know, maybe that’s where the hope lies. The recognition that we are all stuck here on this planet together. Maybe that fact will be what eventually gets us to clean up our act.

pg 210

My fear wasn’t something I would have admitted in my grad school days when I was trying to show that I could handle anything, that I had what it took, or what I thought it l=took, to be a scientist.

pg 216

Jellyfish had become a better-late-than-never vehicle for me to explore the threats to the ocean’s future. They’re a way to start a conversation about things tha can seem boring and abstract - acidification, warming, overfishing, and coastal development - but that are changing our oceans in fundamental ways.

pg 223

Experiencing the ocean’s brilliance first hand meant more than all my after-school lectures combined… Our kids need to understand what’s at stake too.

pg 278

The realisation that scientists need to roll down their sleeves and button up their jackets has dawned on the European scientists I met much more insistently than it has on those on the other side of the Atlantic.

pg 284

In the United States as well as Europe, there is an ongoing attack on science, a willful insertion of misconception into the public sphere. And that leads to policies that fly in the face of the data and reason.

pg 284

Letters to the editor, which seem such an archaic form of free speech in these Twittering times, actually get read in Washington.

pg 285

Raise your voice. By staying quiet, we are deceiving the public. The public deserves to know what’s going on in the ocean. We are being willfully myopic.

pg 287

If any of those things had happened differently, I wouldn’t be standing in this spot at this moment. Life may be a series of happy accidents, but I had never before had them all come together in one morning.

pg 290

Our dancing turns to fighting, often for the wrong reasons. We fall in love easily, but often with things that don’t matter or even harm us, things that numb us to the thousands of ever-more discernible darts we are shooting at our own planet. This can lead to terrible mistakes, even self-destruction.

pg 304

*Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material and do not represent independently conceived ideas.

Handy links:

Buy the book
Check out Bradshaw’s blog

Have you read Spineless, or have another science-adjacent book you can recommend? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Image credits: Spineless cover photo

A year in review: 2018 edition

Tue, 15 Jan 2019 09:52:30 +0000

The last few weeks have seen a flood of people posting their 2018 achievements, promoting the academic currency of papers published, grants won, students mentored and conferences attended.

Without taking away from these achievements, I wanted to focus on viewing myself as more than my work, and especially more than the ‘publish or perish’-driven manuscript list. And so, here lives my reflection on the year that was. Lessons remain a crucial part; after all,

“If a man looks at the world when he is 50 the same way he looked at it when he was 20 and it hasn’t changed, then he has wasted 30 years of his life,”

Muhamed Ali

Of course, I would be remiss not to celebrate the high points - but I have tried to temper the ‘gloating’ with a few honest low points. Finally, I take a look to the future. By defining goals which will drive my personal and professional life in 2019, I hope to kick off a fulfilling and smooth-sailing year with the course charted and the wind in my sails.

Wins

A snapshot of the high points

I received my first personal scientific project funding through an Early-Career Researcher Grant
I had four papers published, including the last of my PhD research, and landed travel funds for an international conference
I was priviledged to give too many conference presentations to count (Lornes, ABS-ABA, Winter School..)
I developed and grew this page, with 20 blog posts including tools, conference reviews, book reviews and scicomm
I produced hundreds (maybe thousands?) of lines of brand new code - but more importantly, saw a significant improvement in my ability and confidence when programming which has allowed me to assist others
I attended my first PyLadies meetup, where I met people like me (in science, learning python independently) and some less like me (employed full time in programming or data analysis positions)
I developed closer relationships with family and friends, as I worked harder to maintain and build these ties
I read two more books than last year
I consistently, regularly exercised, losing 15 kilograms
I hit a saving milestone and we bought a house

Losses

A snapier shot of the low points

I worked for two months on experiments that were to resuscitate one of my major projects
I’m now left with no papers in the pipeline, leaving lots for the year ahead to wrap up these projects
My coding projects are in somewhat of a state of disarray, in desperate need of a tidy and some documentation
I only read 2 books, and put 8 kilograms back on
I spent more than 50 hours writing six grants, all of which were unsuccessful
I was quick to judge others and less approachable than I would like to be, letting my stress seep to the outside
We unbought a hous

Lessons

The bits I wish I knew at the start of 2018, but had to learn the hard way

Have the hard conversations - with your boss, your partner, yourself
Self-care is about what you need - not what everyone else’s definition of rest and relaxation tells them (and they, therefore, tell you) you should be doing
“There are less qualified people than you doing what you want to do, just because they decided to believe in themselves. Period.”
Make a positivity folder and actively collect the warm fuzzy moments: emails, photos, messages, compliments, congratulations…
If you want to do something, really want to, then make time. Do it. No one else is going to do it for you, and your schedule will not magically clear. Life is never going to get less hectic or stressful.
Every day, hour, minute you spend wishing your way to the next thing (job, house, friend, partner) you will equally spend wishing you had taken the time to value what you had, to revel in it.
Prioritise, prioritise, prioritise

Goals

Hopefully to help me meander with purpose through 2019

It might be a little meta, but a big goal of mine this year is to learn to set SMART goals. Not so much “new years resolutions” - but personal and professional goals that I would like to work towards every day.
If you’ve never heard of the SMART goal concept, you can find a more detailed description , but in a nutshell SMART goals are:
- S - specific, significant, stretching
- M - measurable, meaningful, motivational
- A - agreed upon, attainable, achievable, acceptable, action-oriented
- R - realistic, relevant, reasonable, rewarding, results-oriented
- T - time-based, time-bound, timely, tangible, trackable
With this in mind, I have the following goals for 2019:
- Yoga at least two days in a fortnite during 2019. A flexible body -> flexible mind -> clarity of ideas, increased alertness and engagement with the task at hand. I would like to be able to better calm my mind when distraction threatens. I will track this goal via a calendar which records each session.
- Land the next job - be strong enough to throw myself into the applications and let go of the guilt of not chasing (limited) Australian funds. This will be measured via my application for at least 3 more Fellowship programs.
- Attitude adjustment - I will track this goal via weekly mini-reflections, where I will focus on (1) Learning to take control of what is within my reach, and to more rapidly accept that which is outside my control and move on, (2) Doing one self-positive task per day - learning, physical activity, kindness, and (3) Fostering self belief to replace self doubt, in personal relationships, professional settings and long-term career prospects
- Prioritise, prioritise, prioritise!

And with that, it’s time to say sayonara 2018 - bring on 2019.

May science be kind to you!

Image credit: @brookelark via

NoBell Prize 2018

Fri, 30 Nov 2018 11:01:39 +0000

The phrase “Nobel Prize” usually evokes a sense of prestige and gravitas. There is no doubt that these prizes are bestowed upon individuals who have made outstanding contributions to the human race. However, sometimes what exactly the prize-winners invention or contribution was can be a little beyond the grasp of your average citizen.

Enter the “NoBell Prize”.

Hosted each year by the Melbourne Neuroscience Institute, this fantastic event is a funny scicomm-athon open to the general public, where brain and mind researchers attempt to explain their research without jargon in three minutes. Should they utter a sceric of technical jargon, the judging panel ring a bell and the researcher must satisfactorily explain the concept in lay terms before moving on. At the end of the night, the number of bell rings is tallied up and the researcher with the least bells is crowned victorious with a ‘prestigous’ faux-gold cup. This year pitted 5 fantastic researchers against the bell:

Dr David Farmer - Research Fellow, Autonomic Neuroscience Laboratory, The Florey Institute
Dr Holly Chinnery - Corneal and Ocular Immunology Unit Lab Director
A/Prof Carsten Murawski- Principal Investigator, Brain Mind and Markets Laboratory
Prof Erica Fletcher - Visual Neuroscience Laboratory Head
Dr Scott Kolbe - Advanced Neuroimaging Laboratory Head

While at face value this may seem like a frivolous take on a serious and distinguished event, in the age of fake news and dismissed scientific evidence the importance of events like these cannot be understated. It was articulated best by the host of the evening, Dr. Shane Huntington, when he espoused the responsibility we have as researchers not only to conduct good science, but to demand good science, to advocate good science, and to communicate good science.

In fact, as Dr. Huntington believes, the current fracturing of truth and lack of belief in evidence-based policy is a reflection of a failure by us as an academic community to effectively engage and communicate with the public. Events like these are essential for both public science literacy and practice in effective communication for researchers.

Even with the serious (and important) aspects, all around the NoBell Prize was a fantastic evening with lots of laughs and an equal helping of learning - even for me! If you have the chance, I highly recommend checking out the NoBell Prize in 2019. Maybe you could even go up against the bells yourself!

Book review: The Effective Scientist

Sun, 28 Oct 2018 10:32:43 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort not only to read more this year, but also to actively engage with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer this year might help me and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

Title: The Effective Scientist

Author: Corey. J. A. Bradshaw

Theme:
ECRs, academia, science impact

Target audience:
ECRs across scientific disciplines

Overall thoughts:
A well written, self-reflective evaluation of the important aspects surrounding scientific research that make or break a scientific career.

As a “first-gen” PhD, I naively thought that being good at the research (understanding concepts, designing and interpreting experiment, analysing data, writing papers and teaching students) would be enough to guarantee me a successful and impactful career in academia. However, very soon into my first post-doc it became clear that there was a great deal more than these qualities required, and that it was not something that is taught in Grad school. Mostly, people garnered “insider knowledge” on how to succeed. With this truthful and frank book, Bradshaw provides some of these insights as a guide for new early career researchers, helping to at least level the playing field for those of us not in the know. So much of his recounts were relatable, and wisdom enlightening. Even those who consider themselves in the know could learn a thing or two from the empathetic approach and good lab-building practice ideas put forward by Bradshaw. Together, these skills may help you survive (maybe even thrive) in the world of academic science, will lead to a more fulfilling and impactful career, and allow you to positively contribute to the betterment of society. And as a side-note, the print version itself is absolutely beautiful (props to Rene Campbell for the images throughout, and for the amazing cover image) - a win-win-win!

Overall, I can not recommend this book enough for early-career scientists of all disciplines. Aspiring post-graduate students, newly-minted PhD’s, post-docs and junior principle investigators alike can all benefit from the wisdom held between this magnificent cover!

Some of the best bits*:

Knowing what or how to achieve what you will be expected to do is not necessarily intuitive or easy

We must compete in an age of on-tap information, most of which is either meaningless drivel or utter nonsense

To most, significant just sounds more authoritative, educated, and erudite than a lot or big. This is, of course, complete rubbish because some people use big words to his the fact that they are not quite as clever as they think they are

…you might be of the mistaken assumption that science is a nice, linear, logical process leading to unambiguous conclusions.

Failure, at least of the temporary kind, is therefore ironically a state that you will necessarily have to get used to if you are to succeed as a scientist.

What lacking novelty really means is ‘we do not think your paper will get as many citations as we would like’.

I could go on and on, but in reality this whole book bears repeating. In fact, I am quite certain that I will return many times over the years to revisit specific chapters or paragraphs - to cherry-pick more than these few phrases does an injustice to the rest, you will simply have to read it!

*Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material and do not represent independently conceived ideas.

Handy links:

Buy the book
Check out Bradshaw’s blog

Quick Recap: PyLadies Melbourne Event

Tue, 31 Jul 2018 11:24:05 +0000

Locating the labyrinth a nd meeting the meetup For a few months, I had been working on the courage to check out one of the many coding-related groups held all across Melbourne each month. There are the meetups, various networking events and more data science groups than I could possibly list here (if any of these peaks your interest, check out the meetup list ). Still, as a scientist-turned-programmer (and a shy one at that) I wasn’t too quick to jump in the deep end with a roomful of people who of course I assume know everything there is to know about programming. Eventually, an email popped into my inbox with details for an upcoming centered around a tool I had been using (and hating) almost daily, and finally, I thought, “This is it. It’s now or never”. So, a cold Melbourne Monday night I bundled up my backpack and headed into the city after a long day at work.

After a tricky start (getting into locked business buildings in the heart of the Melbourne CBD is not my strong suite - mastermind criminal I am not!), I finally made it to a table jam-packed with Souvas accompanied by a fridge full of beer and cider (or apple juice poppers if that’s what you’re into). I was one of the last to arrive, so I quietly slunk in the back and collected some food before introducing myself to the orchestrator of the event. Not long after a quick round of “What’s your name, what do you do…”, we were bundled through to a second room where there was a bunch of tables and chairs set up around a projector.

For the next 90 minutes, enthralled and entertained with her tales learning python’s premier plotting library, matplotlib. I won’t go too much into the finer details of her talk - you can check it out . But, I will tell you a little about Ash and why her talk being my first foray into python meetups was so important. A masters student come research assistant, Ash is a bench-trained scientist with a flair for uncovering transcriptional signatures of immune genes in cancer. She came into python as the only scientist in her lab using this language and has built analysis pipelines for her work from the ground up. Coming into python as a scientist was definitely something I could relate to! Ash was brutally honest about how hard she found it at times to navigate the various Matplotlib interfaces. She unashamedly admitted how easy it was to spend hours ‘prettifying’ your graphs. And most importantly for me, she had a room full of fellow pythonistas, mostly software engineers and data scientists, nodding along. It was unbelievably reassuring to hear that I wasn’t alone in my experiences of matplotlib-induced pain. On top of that, having someone methodically explain the basic concepts, the tricky syntax and the bizarre labeling conventions was so helpful for crystallising the knowledge I had slowly accumulated over the last year or two since starting to use matplotlib more regularly. I even learned a few new tricks (aspect=‘auto’ anyone??).

I know it may seem like I’m gushing (and maybe I am, a little) but it truly was a revelation to me that scientists could have something so useful and relevant to contribute to what (on the surface) seemed like a simple conversation for those ‘in the know’. The PyLadies are an incredibly welcoming bunch, and I can’t wait for next month to ‘meetup’ with them again.

The nitty gritty When: Third Monday of each month Where: Melbourne CBD Who: Anyone identifying as female who is interested in python. What: The presenters and topics vary by month, so for all the details make sure to check out the PyLadies meetup page.

Note: The details I’ve included here are for the . If this is not near you, don’t dismay - there are PyLadies groups all over the world and most likely one near you! There are even remote PyLadies groups that regularly post talks online if this sounds more like your jam head to check it out.

Python not your thing? There are so, so many different groups on , I am sure you will find something that takes your fancy!

Resources If you’re in a world of matplotlib pain, here are a few of my favourite resources that (along with Ash’s talk) really help to lay out ground rules and will hopefully give you a fighting chance:

Magnified 2018

Tue, 05 Jun 2018 07:53:54 +0000

The Illawarra Health and Medical Research Institute (IHMRI), in association with the School of Arts, English and Media at the University of Wollongong (UOW), are hosting a fundraising exhibition featuring images from the work of researchers and students, in support of Motor Neuron Disease (MND) research at IHMRI. This is a cause quite close to my heart, and as an alumnus, I was lucky enough to be invited to contribute. I actually had a heap of fun choosing my artwork (you can check out my submissions below) and for all the details on when and where you can find the exhibition head . Works in the exhibition will be on sale to the general public, with all proceeds going towards Motor Neuron Disease (MND) research at IHMRI. What better reason do you need to pick up some fantastic sciart?

Decoding Proteostasis

Proteins are the major cellular building blocks fundamental for most basic operations sustaining life. Most proteins need extensive management by the cell’s proteostasis machinery to maintain their proper shape. Proteostasis imbalance can cause neuronal death, leading to neurodegenerative disease. Various cellular stresses, such as inhibiting housekeeping functions or dismantling structural components, can differentially impact neuronal health. Understanding changes in each individual protein (columns) within a cell as it responds to different stresses (rows) highlights how different stress types influence proteostasis. Revealing common vulnerable pathways, by decoding this ‘proteome barcode’, will help focus future therapeutic targeting on neurons weakest links.

The twists and turns of proteostasis

Misfolded proteins aggregate into elongated fibrils (yellow/green ribbons), which cause neuronal death and lead to neurodegenerative diseases like MND, Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s disease. Using powerful microscopes, we can watch how the molecular chaperones (red), part of the cells proteostasis defence network, attach along the fibrils, helping to protect the neurons from these toxic tentacles.

what to do when you can't get a word in edge ways

Sat, 28 Apr 2018 03:45:17 +0000

I don’t believe in resolutions, mostly because I have finally learnt (after 20-something years) that I will never stick to them. However, January 1st this year saw me looking to make a few key changes in my lifestyle. A few of these resulted from lessons I learnt throughout 2017 (you can read more about those ), and some were personal decisions that I felt would contribute to my mental, professional and physical health. One of those decisions was a commitment to reading and writing more. What you see here is my attempt at writing - but what about reading? I consume a steady stream of media everyday, and I decided it was high time that I put the constant onslaught of information to better use - to make it work for me, instead of feeling like I was drowning under it’s weight. My answer to this challenge came in a few forms:

1. A new system for prioritising and tracking purely scientific reading. This includes journal articles and media pieces with direct relevance to my current project, or project ideas that I hope to pursue one day. For more on my new system, and how I automate some of the process, keep an eye out for a future post coming soon.

2. A more balanced and positive social media environment. For me, this meant migrating to Instagram and Twitter (in favour of Facebook). Given I was a relative late comer to Twitter, I was able to curate my social network to generate an environment filled with positive stories, useful information, scicomm and professional opportunities etc. Not only does my time spent on these social channels no longer feel cumbersome and negative, but I have also found a brand new way to stay up to date with new science and funding opportunities, as well as a group of positive uplifting scientists working to effect real change in the systems they see failing scientists (and particular female scientists) worldwide.

3. A conscious effort to read something for leisure. While I allowed myself to choose books loosely based in science, it had to be in an expanded real-life paperback-in-hand book (no online journal articles) that I would sit with and focus solely on for at least half an hour at a time. I have only managed a single book this year (more on that ), but these ‘unplugged’ moments have helped anchor my self-care for the past few months. I find it refreshing to have a single focus for a defined time period (no electronic attention-grabbing distractions), and it was great to stretch my mind and take in broad science outside my niche that was designed for a popular audience.

After almost four months, my media-rich life is finally beginning to feel manageable. Tackling the barrage of text and images head on, I have found a balance between reading I have to do (articles), reading I am inevitably going to do (socials) and reading I would like to do (books). And if nothing else, this really reinforces for me the biggest lesson of 2017 - call it yin and yang, call it … call it whatever you like - it’s all about the balance!

Book review: Human Universe

Sat, 28 Apr 2018 03:43:15 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort not only to read more this year, but also to actively engaging with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer this year might help me and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

Title: Human Universe Theme:

A self professed love letter to humanity, this book asks questions about our origins, our destiny, and our place in the universe, covering the science behind each scale in the universe, from single cells to whole galaxies to the infinite multiverse.

Target audience:

Inquisitive minds, suitable for both scientists and those with little to no scientific background.

Overall thoughts:

Well crafted stories and arguments, with an appropriate level of context for someone with no background in science, but not so much as to be nauseatingly boring for scientists. In many instances, Cox manages to articulate many of my feelings about science, policy and the challenges we face both as scientists and more broadly as a society with a solid foundation in established scientific research.

Some of the best bits*:

The language of science - because there is no better demonstration of our ascent… than the exponentiation of knowledge
Education powers the mind beyond direct experience - onwards and outwards
Common sense is completely worthless and irrelevant when trying to understand reality
The inbuilt and unavoidable stupidity of intelligent beings
Countries whose borders and interests are defined by imagined local differences and arbitrary religious dogma, both of which are utterly irrelevant and meaningless on a galactic scale
A lovely example of serendipity coupled with curiosity and a sprinkling of genius; from cannonballs to snowflakes to the code of life.
Science is a time machine, and it goes both ways. We are able to predict our future with increasing certainty. Our ability to act in response to these predictions will ultimately determine our fate.
Science and reason make the darkness visible
We woken up at the wheel of a bus and realised we don’t know how to drive it
A common governmental lament is new knowledge is not converted efficiently enough into economic growth. Is that what knowledge is for? Who pays for progress? Who should pay for progress?
there is much research to be done , but the barriers are likely to be budgetary rather than fundamental; the United States spends more on pet grooming than it does on fusion research.
I teach, I am taught, I research and I learn. I have been fortunate.
What are we made of? Up quarks, down quarks and electrons.* Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material, and do not represent independently conceived ideas. Where can I find it? Get it online .

the nomadic scientist: blessing or curse?

Thu, 05 Apr 2018 10:36:32 +0000

From the very beginning of my undergraduate degree, I knew that I wanted to pursue research overseas. Not so much a permanent relocation, but I was very keen to leverage the international nature of science to see the world. I secured a post-graduate position with a group leader who was open and supportive of this goal, and was instrumental in helping me go abroad during my PhD research. What followed was a whirlwind trip to Cambridge, UK, where I worked on acquiring a new technique to add to my developing skills arsenal. Despite the short stint, it was hands down the most personally and professionally life changing experience.

This is not to say that my home institute isn’t producing to good science - it is - but through this experience I was immersed in a city bursting at the seams with passionate experts, cutting-edge research and world-leading techniques. To say I fell in love would be an understatement. The cohesiveness and intertwined networks I observed whilst there were an incredible, eyeopening window into the collaboration that comes from bringing together world-leading experts from a broad range of disciplines in a melting pot dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge.

After returning to Australia, I worked towards the holy grail - thesis submission - and dreamed of the postdoctoral jobs I could chase internationally. One year on I am still here, and in a position I am thoroughly enjoying, but you better believe I still have my eye on an overseas position in the next 5 years. I do wholeheartedly believe that a diverse research training period is a critical foundation for a well rounded researcher, giving context and cultivating understanding of the abundant theories and approaches one can take to answer the big scientific questions. Diverse experiences offer the chance to explore the problem at hand from a new perspective, leading to unique insight.

And as excited as I still am about all the places science could take me in the next few chapters, my extra-continental daydreams have been tainted with an air of urgency of late. I am beginning to feel as though, with the current funding climate, the only way I am going to get a foot in the door is to do my time in a country where the pay is less, the work-life balance a little more unbalanced and my family a little(lot) further away. Even worse, I am acutely aware that in this situation I am the privileged one. Assuming I am lucky enough the secure a position in a good lab group in my area of research, I have very few restrictions or barriers to relocation. Sure, money is always an issue. And there might be a few personal hiccups (my partner is not infected with my incurable case of wanderlust), but I am (relatively) young, without kids and with no significant financial constraints (other than the misguided hope to someday get on the property ladder).

Many of my colleagues, and friends, do not enjoy the same level of flexibility.

And so, I suppose this post is more about what you think - is it possible to progress in the Australian scientific research landscape without being a nomad, at least for a little while? And what effect does this have on the diversity retained in the upper echelons of the academic institutions?

a year in review

Wed, 10 Jan 2018 10:50:36 +0000

This week kicks off 2018, and can I just say - about bloody time.

I know I’m not the only one - but 2017 was a bit of a roller coaster for me, both personally and professionally. I started a new job, in a new city, working in a new field. I made new friends, rented a new apartment, joined a new gym, and bought two new cars. My partner and I learnt new things about one another, and together we set a new personal best for flights between Melbourne and Sydney in a year. Between all of the new, a few old habits reared their ugly head - I worked consistently 10, 11, 12 hour days, weeknights and weekends. When I wasn’t at work, I was thinking about work. About how much I had to learn, and how out of depth I was. My old friend Impostor Syndrome came to visit, and set up camp on my new couch for a solid four to five months. Old health issues came back to bite me. It took me a really long time to feel at home in the lab again (settling into a new lab space after 4 solid years in your old one is hard, note to self), and I found it hard to balance my expectations with the reality of what was physically achievable in a single day. Lesson one of 2017 was balance, above all else. Balance is essential for mental and physical health, and without it you will drown.

Perhaps worst of all, I said yes. Consistently, for 9 months, I said yes to taking every meeting, trying every experiment, attending every outing… I was terrified of missing out on that most important opportunity. Six months into my new job, I was already juggling more than 10 ‘projects’ - each of which was substantial enough to occupy an honours student for a year - and had little idea which of them was actually paying my rent. Instead of giving myself a chance to settle in, maybe tackle a few key projects that would quickly generate data, I tried to chip away at everything and wound up floundering amongst a sea of failed experiments and next to no progress. I was burnt out, and looking for any way to slink off into the darkness and away from the academic career I had been working toward for the past decade. Lesson number two of 2017 was that it is ok, and in fact important, to say no. Sometimes. A handful of productive projects are better than a wealth of failing ones. It’s ok to be up front with your limitations - some people (the good ones) will respect you even more for it.

Despite all the heartache, I didn’t quit. Sometimes, hanging on for dear life is enough. I have a beautiful partner who reminded me everyday of why we were here. I have wonderful friends and family who boast proudly about this crazy scientist they know. These are the things that keep you going. Lesson number three of 2017 was keep these people close. They are your life blood.

Towards the end of the year, the waters started to smooth. I kicked my ImpSyn friend off the couch, made daily exercise a priority and devoted some time to personal goals. One of those was this (which I admit is still a work in progress). I also enrolled in an online course to pursue some extra-curricula computer programming skills. I finally engaged with Twitter (and oh what a wonderful, welcoming community I have found there). I worked to connect all my fabulous women friends in science as we go our separate ways for now (more on that later). Lesson number four of 2017 was don’t be afraid to know your goals, and to prioritise them. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if it’s only small steps once a week or once a month, every little bit of effort will take you one step closer to your goal. And life is too short to keep these goals hidden out of fear.

The year came to a close in a wonderful corner of the New South Wales south coast. We beached, waterskiied, flew kites, ate tremendous icecream and slept. I had eight (yes, eight!) whole days without opening my computer, or even thinking about work. Those eight days were the happiest I spent in 2017, and after them I felt like I had opened the floodgates. In the back of my mind, I started to develop experiment ideas, fellowship projects and potential collaborative ventures. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get back to work to put things in motion. Lesson number five of 2017 is that in order to go fast, you must first go slow. A few people whom I deeply respect have mentioned this before, but it wasn’t until my summer holiday that I truly understood their meaning. This is my 2018 mantra.

These lessons, despite being painful to learn, have opened the door to an exhilarating 2018. I’m heading to three conferences over the next five weeks, which will mark my first national conference oral presentations. I’m attending a summer school, where I get to focus solely on developing my programming skills for six days straight. I am working on Fellowship applications which, if successful, will have me headed overseas in no time. My friends-in-STEM community continues to grow. For the first time in a while, I am excited about the upcoming few months. After the butt-kicking 2017 gave me, I finally feel like 2018 is the time to fight back.

Here’s to 2018. May it be full of science, love, laughter, growth and success for you all x

a few words on why I'm here

Sun, 26 Nov 2017 09:15:24 +0000

Truth be told, I don’t know that even I am sure why I am here. But if I am honest, I think the idea has been tumbling around, gathering dust, in the back of my brain for a while.

In 2013, I travelled to Cambridge, UK for 6 months as part of my postgraduate research. I had many people who asked for updates and photos of my travels, and the first ‘site’ I ever established began with that in mind. To this day, it has never progressed. I was always intimidated by putting my thoughts on ‘paper’ and the idea that I would spend time writing non-scientific pieces seemed ludicrous during my PhD. However, I am starting to understand the value of this process.

“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on” - Louis L’Amour

So my goal is to write. To ramble, in fact! Many of the blogs I regularly read give similar things - a sense of reassurance that the way I feel and the experiences I have in the world of science are not unique, and I am not alone. My thoughts may not be that helpful, interesting or insightful, but it will be me. Conquering my fear. Maybe that is all I can hope for.If you’re reading this, thanks for jumping on board with me. I really appreciate your support and hope you find something of value to add to your scientific journey.