The new immunology program students have arrived. It is official….I am a 5th year student. GASP!
When the new students were introduced at a welcome BBQ, they all seemed genuinely happy to be there, hungry for knowledge. Then, I looked around at the senior students. They all looked less happy to be there, less hungry for knowledge. Looks can be deceiving, though. At some point, you stop putting on your mask and allow your true feelings to shine through, without abandon. Something about grad school changes you. When you enter, you are excited about the opportunity to learn. This is your long awaited chance to make a contribution to society. Anything is possible. Science is fun! After a few years, you’re still exhilarated by the hunt, yet something is different. It is hard to put your finger on the catalyst or identify the exact moment when you noticed the change. In my case, someone else alerted me to the change. Since that moment I have felt out of sorts, disconnected from that young girl that entered a PhD program four years ago. Perhaps it is the realization that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I won’t be protected by these hallowed halls anymore. Thrown to the wolves…. Science is cut throat. Only the strong survive. Perhaps it is this loss of innocence, the realization that even the brightest, most hardworking scientists can have bad luck, that pushed me to the realization that to survive, I must change who I am. As they say, ignorance is bliss. It is not a pleasant task to compose the mental list of character traits you need to abandon or develop. In fact, when I looked in the mirror and saw the “new” me staring back, I was abhorred. In an instant, I identified with the “monstrous vermin” from Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis” :
“When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin… His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, were waving helplessly before his eyes.”
I have always been easy to get along with, never made waves, though I secretly longed to rock the boat. I can’t yet claim to be imperturbable or fearless, but I have noticed evidence of a spine sprouting somewhere back there and my skin is getting thicker by the day. It still isn’t always easy to put that shell on every morning, but I am no longer surprised when I speak my mind, despite the possibility that my words might upset someone or evoke their wrath. I think it takes a combination of growing older (and, presumably, wiser) and enduring significant objurgation by your advisor and thesis committee to precipitate change. As nice as it is to have the strength to hold your ground when you know you are right, perhaps, the more important lesson learned in graduate school is how to admit that you made a mistake or need help. Now, I am accepting that I will not leave graduate school the same person as I entered it. Yet, I am learning to wield my newfound character traits and have resigned myself to the experience of change. I no longer feel like a “monstrous vermin.” I am slowly transforming into the person I need to be in order to make it in this profession.
I did experience that older-and-wiser transformation in graduate school. I think there’s another metamorphosis I experienced, too, which was about a year into my postdoc when I started to measure the depth of my preparation and started to strike out on my own to think of new ways to solve problems. I had another epiphany/sea change during my first job too—they seem to come pretty regularly. I think the secret is to avoid the overly-jaded metamorphosis. I duck around corners when I see that one coming. :)
Ah, Kafka… The biographer Ritchie Robertson described Kafka’s underlying literary theme as one wherein the living feed upon the living. This would seem to agree with your analysis of science being cutthroat though I sincerely hope that none of your labmates have thrown apples at you. The fascinating part of such a metamorphosis, and we can ask if this was true of Gregor Samsa, is whether the change makes us into something new or rather strips away a veneer to reveal our true selves. I’d have to say that in the lab over the years, I’ve probably seen examples of both. I like your attitude though. Embrace change, work with it like Deanne has done, and be better for it. After all, if you emerged from grad school the same person as when you entered, perhaps the experience would not have been worth it at all.
I agree that one sign of successful graduate school training is change. If you don’t emerge a different person, what did you learn exactly? My 4 years have pushed me to my mental and emotional limits. Along the way, I discovered that I was both pushed into changing and forced to accept my true self. In fact, I think admitting that you don’t like everything about yourself and recognizing your own limitations is half the point! I agree with Deaanne that the “metamorphoses” likely never stop. I am sure these epiphanies strike everyone as we age. I guess this is how wisdom is acquired. I am doing my best to stay optimistic and adapt to change as it comes at me.