One year. What a wild ride. They give you a lump of money, an empty lab space, a course to teach, and a parachute. Before you can even comprehend the purpose of the parachute, you get roundhouse kicked off the back of a plane.

”HOW DO I OPEN THIS THING,” you yell back at them as you tumble through the air.

“We keep meaning to write up a manual for that,” they respond to your rapidly descending body. “You’re smart, you’ll be fine. Don’t hesitate to send an email if anything else comes up!”

One year later and you never quite lose the falling sensation. I’m also not sure if there is a landing area in sight or if this parachute is fully functional. But over time, you get a little better at the downward glide.

This is my (one month late) year-in-review. I wish I had one seamless thought to thread through all the aspects of this job. Unfortunately, few of my thoughts are coherent these days. Instead, below are bite-sized ruminations on a smattering of topics that have recently come to mind as I reflect on this year. I’m not trying to give advice here, but more so share a personal perspective.

Philosophy

Before starting this gig, I settled on this overarching goal for the year: I want to be healthy. I want to be productive. I want to be efficient. I want to have fun. I felt like if I could maintain each of these categories, things would be a blast. I was fully anticipating ending the year with a need to dramatically reorganize my priorities. But overall, I think I nailed it. These core features keep me grounded on a path towards sustainable success. I have no revisions heading into this second year.

Academia is an outrageous privilege

It is beyond a privilege for this to be my job. As someone who has worked some real shitty jobs before, I cannot understate how cushy this position can be. (I say this with the full understanding of the privilege that comes with being at a rich, private R1 university). That does not mean that this position is easy. I have more responsibilities than ever. There is work, effort, and stress involved in this role. What makes things extra difficult is there are multiple roles to take on, each of which is new to me. I’m now a principal investigator, group leader, and educator (a role I’m still trying to embrace). I get to think up a scientific vision, train a group of scientists to make that vision a reality, and educate the next generation of engineers. I feel the weight of each of these as people look to me for leadership and direction. Each role is challenging in different ways. Also, each is an immense privilege. I try really hard to keep front of mind how lucky I am to be here.

My lab >>>

I cannot fully describe how grateful I am for my lab members. I enjoy each of them as people and respect them as scientists. It’s the best part of this job. I get to recruit people from all over the world, share my scientific vision with them, train them side-by-side, and over the course of several years get to see them grow into their identities as scientists and engineers. Even better, I get know what cool human beings they are. The process is so freaking awesome. I give them an intangible idea swirling around in my brain, and they make it reality. It’s close to real-life magic.

Outside of science, we’ve also prioritized how we do science. Our lab culture, I like to think, is fantastic. Maybe ask them and see what they say. But overall I’m so thankful for a group that has bought-in to a vision of building a culture of all-around excellence.

The weight of mentorship

Something I didn’t expect is the weight I feel for each person in the lab. I worry about them in different ways. Not in a way that keeps me up at night, but I just feel a certain responsibility that their PhDs and research experience are everything they hoped it to be. They placed their careers in my hands and took a chance on joining a new lab with nothing but an empty room and dream experiments. I take that decision seriously. I feel I owe it to them to be the best PI and mentor I can be.

The overwhelming busyness of things

I love this job, but there’s a lot of it. There are multiple full-time positions that fall on your shoulders. You have to get the lab setup, order everything to do the setup, train people, do experiments, prepare lectures, grade exams, write grants, perform service, sit on committees, give seminars, manage finances, write letters of recommendation, host visitors, manage an animal colony, recruit new members, deal with the ever-persistent trickle of emails, etc, etc. etc.

Ira Glass said something on this recent podcast that struck a nerve with me. He was talking about the early years of getting This American Life up and running—the first radio show of its kind at the time. “It was like being served my favorite meal all the time…but I couldn’t leave the table.” I feel this deep in my core. Here are some random musings on this topic:

Maybe I’m twisted, but I’m learning to love it. I enjoy having a job that requires me to perform at a high level.
A lot of the busyness is self-induced. I often look at my calendar and think “ok but how much of this was I told to do vs. how much did I take on myself.”
I no longer know how not to be busy? If I’m not busy, it feels like I’m doing something wrong. The psychology of it all is really interesting.
Overall, I’ve maintained a really great balance. I think if you ask my wife and family, they will attest to that. I take my kids to school. I’m home (almost) every evening. I coach my boy’s soccer teams. I think I’ve maintained a really great rhythm of high productivity without sacrificing home and family life. Of course, there are some weeks I can’t shake work off the back of my mind even when I’m home. But I think those have been pretty minimal.

When writing this, I realized I had no idea what Ira Glass looks like. Well, here he is. It’s basically exactly what you expect if you ask AI to generate an image of a popular radio show/podcast host.

Being away from the bench

I was honestly sort of worried to step away from the bench. I really love doing experiments, hard experiments. What if being in front of a computer all day writing grants and sending emails didn’t cut it for me? Thankfully, I can say that training others to do experiments and seeing them become independent is 10X more rewarding than doing it yourself.

Also, when I do experiments and procedures, I only do the good stuff now lol. No prep or cleanup. Just show up for the main thing, show the team how it’s done, and take off. It’s awesome.

On being a scientist vs. a PI

I personally view myself as just an ok scientist. I can list tons and tons of people who are way better scientists than me, with deeper knowledge and more expertise. BUT - I’m hoping I turn out to be a really great PI. These aren’t the same, and they require very different skills. It’s become crystal clear to me that a hallmark of a great PI is enabling others to do phenomenal science.

Challenges I didn’t prepared for

Here are a few things that come to mind as challenges that I didn’t anticipate in advance.

Rejections. I know what you’re thinking - grant rejections are part of the job! And yes, it’s true. I was actually very mentally and emotionally prepared for my own proposals to be rejected. What I forgot to take into account was the rejections my team takes as well. Each of their applications to awards, fellowships, graduate programs, and summer programs….you take those on as well. In some ways, these are more difficult. You know how fantastic they are. So if they don’t get the award, it feels like it was probably your fault.
Task-switching. Remember being a postdoc and crossing the finish line of a major deadline? You took a breath, relaxed, and cleared your plate. That doesn’t happen anymore lol. Sure, I still celebrate the small victories, but then it’s on to the next thing. I’ve had to work to get better at switching between tasks. Writing when there is time to write, then shifting to group meeting, then in-lab time, then some weird issue with an unpaid invoice. From one to another to another. This isn’t the only way to do things, obviously, but I try to be as efficient as possible with my time during the day to avoid bringing work home with me in the evening.
“Now the work begins.” This one is more abstract and not one I think of on a day-to-day basis, but I occasionally feel the exhaustion of it. Every major success simply comes with more work. We’ve worked so hard to even get this job, which feels in itself like a golden ticket. But then the real work begins. You write and rewrite and resubmit. Finally you get the grant. Then the real work begins. At the mythical crossing of tenure, there will simply be more work and responsibility. Prof. Amy Orsborn captures this well in this tweet:

*Tweet from @neuroamyo “Academia is a pie eating contest where the prize is just more pie.”*

Proposal writing

I entered my first year with the mindset “just get things out the door.” I have no intention of these things getting funded just yet (but it would be nice). My main goal is just to write and submit. I’m trying to get my research program on paper, submit, iterate. Over and over again. It’s actually been pretty cool to see my own grant writing rapidly improve. Also - I’m not trying to put together the perfect grant. In my head, I picture a logarithmic curve. Early in a proposal, every writing session makes huge improvements. But towards the end, I’m just fiddling with details that make ever-diminishing progress. I think this approach has made rejections easier. Also with everything happening [flails arms wildly in all directions], it is easier to swallow the notion that some of my first NIH grants may never even be reviewed.

Now in year 2, I’m not changing much. My only goal is to get more things out the door.

Food

An unexpected observation: I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the availability of free food as a faculty member.

Non-motivational quotes

Here are a few things that I repeat to myself often. Writing these out, I realize how psychotic they seem. But nonetheless for some reason they help me.

“What the hell else would I rather be doing?” I say this to myself when things feel overwhelming. When there’s an impending deadline, unexpected new deadline, soccer practice this evening, soccer game first thing in the morning, lecture tomorrow. What the hell else would I rather be doing? Would I rather be bored? Absolutely not. And if I were bored, I’d probably find a way to complain about that too.
“There is nothing at the top.” I keep this debbie downer in my pocket at all times. It’s a reminder to find peace with where I’m at right now. That high-impact paper, that big grant, that tenure promotion - that’s not going to wash away imposter syndrome, or relieve stress, or fill some inner void. There is nothing at the top of this academic mountain we’re all trying to climb. Maybe more pie, but nothing else. So I’m finding peace right now.
“I’m building something.” I tell myself this occasionally when something good happens. I couldn’t really specify what that something is even if you asked me. I can tell you it’s not about my legacy or a scientific empire or groundbreaking discoveries. It’s something…different. Not sure exactly yet. But I’m building it.

*A colleague said this Gretsky quote in a meeting once and I said “Michael Scott said that” and no one laughed.*

Some eye-opening moments

More than ever before, the last year has given me a view of university education and academic science. We should be incredibly proud of what we have built. However, there have also been multiple moments where I think: is this really how things work? Maybe at some point I’ll flesh this out more. Maybe.

Office essentials

You spend a lot of time in your office. You should enjoy that spot. Make it your own. Here are a few things that I’ve really enjoyed in my office space:

A coffee machine. I have a Nespresso Vertuo that I’m not too crazy about - mainly because the pods are kinda expensive. Our floor recently got a nice shared expresso machine that is a definite upgrade. Regardless, I really enjoy the ability to make a coffee when needed. It’s also nice to be able to do this for visitors that stop though.
A coffee cup warmer. I don’t know how I went all my life without using one of these. They’re so awesome.
A kettle and selection of teas. I really love this kettle from Amazon. Sometimes I just want a black or herbal tea instead of coffee. Again - visitors often really appreciate a cup as well.
Plants. I have something like 10-12 plant babies (mostly things my wife buys for me). They make the office feel fresh and vibrant.
A mini fridge. It’s totally worth it if you have space. Cold water and sparkling water always available.
A laptop you really like. 95% of your work happens here. Spend the money to get something you really like. I have a 14” macbook pro that I love.
A big ass monitor. I have a big 45” curved screen in my office. When I get there, I immediately plug in my macbook. I definitely prefer the massive monitor approach as opposed to multiple smaller monitors.
A TV. I sort of envisioned using this for people to show me slides and data, which they do. But for the most part it’s main purpose is to put on some nice digital artwork or play a show when my kids visit.
Something that smells good. For some reason I am terrified of having a smelly office. I have a candle warmer.
A humidifier. I didn’t jump on the humidifier boat until recently, but I think it’s a game changer.

On the state of things

I have (conveniently) skipped over the mess of federal funding caused by this chaotic administration and their lack of sensible leadership. But yea - it’s here, affecting day-to-day life and our long-term outlook. This is a blog for another day.

End

On that high note, I’m all out of time here. Time to prepare a lecture on transistor amplification and send off some letter of recommendations. Maybe spend some money too, who knows.

What I’ll end with: this job is a blast (if you let it). It can also consume you (if you let it). The past year exceeded my expectations and the best is yet to come. Stay tuned.

Year One in Review