Super Size that rejection

So in a follow up to Friday's email that gave advance warning of imminent rejection, I got the offical letter today. Not only was I reject but they went to some length to indicate how badly my application was rated. WTF?????????????????????????

I think it's just papers, but maybe it's the project I submitted. It's difficult to know, since there's no feedback provided at all. doh!

So I think I'm gonna keep a tally here.
Today's stat is:

2008 - 6 papers published or in press
Nine papers under review
Six papers getting the finishing touches prior to submission
First author papers I need to work on. HEAPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! can't bear to count those. ugh.

If I could get up to ten published or in press by February next year then I'd be pretty chuffed. How could they resist me?

When bugging your senior colleague is futile

Papers are a significant issue for me right now. Kids got in the way of steady output. That and writing 55 grants in four years, being the 'go-to' girl for all problems in my previous lab. The glue.

WHOOPS! No track record. UNfundable.

So, I've been proactive and tried to implement a plan for publications with my old mentor. He agreed to a paper per week until they're all out (there's 15!) but of course in the first week renegs.

What to do, what to do?

Now that I'm a big girl running my own lab I guess the idea is not to perpetuate this style of 'leadership'. So I'm now kind of (but not really I suppose) in conflict. It would be easy to say "well, I didn't get an easy run so you lot can stand by while I control your futures". The better approach is avoid repeating the errors of others. Indeed, when old mentor suggested that I'd be OK at my new institution because he'd taught me all he know it was very easy to wholeheartedly agree...

More rejection

Oh, the orbitofrontal cortex goes into overdrive this week...

So, what is it about research office staff that makes them think that sending out an email at 4.43pm on a Friday afternoon, in which they inform you that although it's top secret and you can't breathe a word to anyone, you're a reject.

"Dear applicant,

I have received the attached email from the blahblah outcomes. Unfortunately your name was not on the list of applications recommended for funding.

Kind Regards,

Messenger of Doom in the Research Office"

KIND REGARDS? There's nothing kind about that news at all. When I read that all I hear is the little freak from the Simpsons going "ha ha"
ha ha. you're a reject. try again next year (withoutanychanceofsuccessbutweknowyou'readdictedandsowe'relaughingonfridayevening)

I guess I'm annoyed. Need papers. Something's gotta feed the research addiction and get that orbitofrontal cortex to settle down...

ARGH.

Paper reject

Another one bites the dust.

PreviousBoss insists on only putting papers in high impact journals, which would be OK if the findings were high impact and not in need of simply being published.

High impact paper just rejected my recent submission without review. Which TAKES TIME.

and quite frankly, I don't have time to be mucking around at the moment and need some papers to get out. in. realistically. targetted. journal. please.

argh.

Academic talks - when preparation is a bad thing

Yesterday I had to give a talk at the new institute. It was one of a series of workshops for grant submissions and anyone could attend. I spent the night before flinging together some slides and thought briefly about what I wanted to say. Right as I was starting who should walk in the back of the auditorium but the head of the institute. Normally not one to sweat such things, this really unnerved me and I was a bumbling mess. I should have prepared more as I didn't give enough background to the study to allow the audience to discuss it in detail, so I ended up feeling like a complete goose.

Contrast this with my (unsuccessful - read I"M A TOTAL REJECT) fellowship interview recently. I prepared the talk with notes, something I have NEVER done. I practiced the talk. NEVER done that before either. Worse still, I sat to give the talk, which I will NEVER do again as it's totally daft and not at all my style.

So the point is, have I lost my mojo? If I wing it these days I screw up and if I (over) prepare I muck it up too? So what's the right formula for giving a talk? What do others do? What are the practical strategies to look fabulous whilst speaking and feel great afterwards to?

It's been a funny time because for the past few years none of this matters. Now, though, every presentation is a first impression for a whole new audience and I'd like them to pay to see me again (literally!).

High speed shenanigans

One month in and it's all systems go. I have a new office, new labs, new space request, new staff member, new admin crap, new tea room, new politics, new horizons.

No new grants and no new papers but who's counting? well, I am.

I have a plan and it involves shedding crap collaborators who continue to give me a hard time, finishing off projects that give me central chest pain whenever I think of them (seriously) and I want to shed a few pounds by Christmas. I think I'll manage all but the last one.

How is it? It's good. Exciting, and terrifying all at once. In the past two weeks people have realised that I am on site and have started asking me for help, advice, collaboration etc. So that's good but I still need to finish off a whole lot of other work.

I've also had the pleasure of meeting my 'competition' (internationally, that is) and we now plan to collaborate! I offered something I knew he would like (more data) and he needs some skills I happen to have. Sounds like a plan.

Meanwhile, Academic Spouse is away for work more times than I care to think about between now and Christmas but as long as we all stay healthy then it'll be OK.

I feel like I'm tearing down a highway at high speed and just hoping to goodness that I don't lose control and crash and burn. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzoooooooooooooooommmmm!

Chocolate and green tea

I emailed my grants office manager yesterday to ask when the next round of rejection letters was likely to arrive on my doorstep/desk etc. She wrote back saying that I'd made her laugh, which was problematic for her as she didn't think it was a laughing matter.

I think if you can't laugh at rejection, failure, poor reviews, criticism and the like then you definitely should not be in research. As somebody who is personally very sensitive to comments (which I readily interpret as criticism), I impress myself at how resilient I actually am in the face of constant research knock-backs. OK, so I whinge quite a lot at the time, but generally speaking I think it doesn't take too much for me to pick myself up, grin, tell my students it's all part of research and we'll have better luck next time and then get on with it all. Without money.

The email to my research office manager was really to provide some external basis to cease my repetitive internet checking behaviour. Because I'm waiting on two announcements about fellowship applications, I have been compulsively checking the granting bodies' websites. It's not quite OCD because I don't fear what will happen if I don't check, but it's still not healthy. So she told me to expect a five week wait (g-rooooaaaannnnnnnn), which helped because I haven't checked once today (so far...).

So what's the solution to all of this grant-related stress? I find green tea and dark chocolate does wonders for my psyche. With all the rejection going around, perhaps shares in cocoa beans would be worth thinking about? The current economic climate might allow that actually. Oh, except I keep forgetting that I don't HAVE ANY MONEY....................

More choc please.

Maybe research isn't for me

When I discussed my contract for the new job, they said that my CV would need to go to promotions committee as I was being appointed at a given level that would normally require it. "It's just a formality" I was told.

Woops! That formality turned out to be something altogether different as I was NOT given the same level. So although they keep saying "oh, we'll pay you what we agreed" I am being demoted!

I attended an interview for a fellowship yesterday and their parting words were "you've done very well to be short-listed", which is like saying "thanks, but no thanks".

Today, our grant rounds were announced and none of the three grants I was on got funded.

So I feel relatively rejected and saw a tenured teaching position advertised at my old institution, which I would more than qualify for. Maybe the life of no money year to year is not for me after all. Or perhaps I'll feel different after some sleep?

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Who do you work for?

Like your first day at school, starting a new job is exciting, confusing and a jumble of new experiences. There's your name tag, your room key, your swipe card and the fundamentals such as internet access. Of course, I have absolutely NONE of these and so after lugging many heavy boxes in the rain I organised the box that is my office and sat down to edit a paper. I haven't edited a paper in weeks and it felt really really good. If only I could have access electronic databases to get references for the paper.....

So the first day jitters were worth the realisation that this is it. My new path has begun to unfold before me. It'll take a bit of getting used to.

With every piece of paperwork (to organise voicemail, internet, keys, swipe cards, toilet rights etc) I was asked "who do you work for?", to which I answered the head of the stream I'm in.
Not satisfied with this response the next question was "But whose group are you in?", to which I responded "oh, I am starting up a new team"
"Great, what's YOUR group called?"
"Ummmm.... well it's blah-blah-blah, but maybe the name will change"
"oh, OK well just let us know Dr SM".

Gulp. Splutter. Uuurgh....
It was SO like when I got married and I had to change from "my partner" to "my HuSbAnD", or when I went to collect a new bank card and they made me sign while they witnessed me, but I'd never signed my new name before. YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS. I changed my name. oooh errr (much to my husband's dismay, actually. But it was that or change my surname by deed poll so he let me get away with it).

I will need to get used to the idea that I'm the group leader and the group will study blah-blah-blah. I'll need to make sure I don't apologise for my presence and that I get over the embarrassment of pretending I know what I'm doing etc. I think I have imposter syndrome but I plan to be cured within a week.

Anyway, that's it. Like a marriage, the party's over and now it's time to get down to the hard work of making sure this contract lasts. Maybe not 'til death us do part, but I'm definitely in for the long haul. As long as they get me some internet access before the diamond anniversary.

First day

Tomorrow is my first day in my new role. This is it: be brilliant or fail miserably and leave science. Three years is what I've got and I have so many doubts but am also so excited and ready for this next challenge. A slight pay rise also doesn't hurt. Screwing this up is really not an option. Must go get some sleep so I can think straight. Oh, what to wear...?!

Change

Just at a time when I'm about to start a new job, am in the middle of a slow, dusty and frustrating renovation, and have decided if I don't lose my post-baby blubber I might die, I got some more change going on. My cat died. He didn't turn up for dinner and I knew he was a goner. There was no pushing in front of me and the kids as we struggled to fit our bags, bodies and competitive heads into the entrance-way to our house. No, there was no bang, clunk-a-bang bang as the cat pulled on the fly-wire on the back door at night trying to get in. No moaning at the back door if you went into the kitchen at night to see what the time was, have a drink of water or avail yourself of the bathroom facilities etc. Nope, it was quiet. Which was kind of nice, given that he tended towards the annoying at times. But that annoying over-sized, stinky-breathed limping fluff-man was my constant companion for nearly 13 years and now he's gone.

So we told the kids he wasn't coming back and that it was sad etc. Then last night when I was just slopping grotty bits of plasticky pasta into bowls for the kids, our 90 year old next door neighbour fronted up with his cane a-tap-tapping across our balcony. Our woman's man neighbour is a bit of a sweet-talker usually and is desperately deaf. He is one of those oldies who is constantly fiddling with their hearing aid, in the (usually) vain hope that by tweaking the piercing feedback they'll be able to actually get beyond the tzswiiiiiiiinnnnnngggggggg and hear you. So he's really very deaf and after a more congenial attempt at describing what he found in the bushes beside his garage, he yelled "yar cat's DEAD in me back yard". Well, good thing we decided to tell the kids 1) the cat was gone 2) all about death...

So poor old puddy-tat has come to an end and we buried him last night, with the kids sprinkling some seeds across his grave. My son, who turned six today, asked "What are the seeds for?", which is a good question because it's really a bit daft to put seeds in with the corpse, after all. So I told him that every spring when the flowers come up they can think of the cat and remember how lovely he was.

So I have nearly a whole new kitchen, kids a year older, still no contract for my new job (another post altogether in that...) and birds have already settled in the back yard. I miss that annoying old boy.

Pushy students

In three weeks I will start my new role, heading up a research group at a new institution. I am taking two weeks of leave prior, leaving only one actual working day for me to complete all the things I have left on my never-ending to do list.

I also have two PhD students trying to write up, one of whom wants to be done in a similar time frame. This week I have had repeated requests to look over small sections of the student's first draft of various chapters. Due to the fact that I've had a bit going on myself at work, I haven't responded as quickly as I might normally and so the student now wishes to meet me in person on my last day at the old place to go through things in detail.

Whilst I realise that the student is anxious to get things done, my sense is there's a degree of pushiness, and something of a lack of appreciation of anyone else's situation. My reaction to the repeated requests this week (albeit, silently whilst I read yet another pleading email) has been to say "Leave me ALONE!". Instead, I am avoiding a reply but this will be hard on Friday when said student waltzes into my office and waits for a response (yes, they really do just walk on in. I've even tried locking the door, but due to my old boss' policy of not spending money on anything much all the rooms have the same keys (except his, naturally) and so people just knock, wait, unlock the door and exclaim "oh, I thought you might be hiding in there".)

So it annoys me that I am worrying about this amongst everything else going on. As a PhD student myself I made sure that I made myself available at times that suited my supervisor. I think I had a bit of R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Perhaps I'll just hum that dandy little tune all day Friday. Or lock the door and push a filing cabinet against it from the inside....

Tradesmen

Why do tradesmen turn up so early? Is it really the case that they need to get to the pub by 3.30 or their livers begin to shrivel?

I don't think I know the answer and as an academic I tend to keep odd working hours. But why would you elect to arrive at 7am each day when you could sleep in? It's not like people want to be thrown out of their houses before they've had a chance to brush teeth, eat breakfast, get their pants on etc. This morning I actually had to ask out loud (as we ran to the car at 7.12am, having outstayed our welcome inside our own homes, evidenced only by the fact that the sawing had commenced) "who's had brekky?". I never fail to eat in the morning but I realised that I'd not had the chance.

School lunch for boy. Check.
Lunch for Dad. Check
Lunch for me. Check, albeit soggy and left-over from daughter yesterday.
Bag for daughter. Check
Coat for daugter. Check
Umbrella for upcoming school concert rendition of "singing in the rain". Check.
Sanity. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

"Sorry Ma'am but you're all out of sanity pills. ha ha".

If there's one more hidden cost as part of this renovation then I think I'm likely to yell at someone.

If they have the audacity to arrive at 7.01am when my brain's only had 5 hours sleep and my hair still needs doing then I'll most certainly yell.

Tradies should start at 8.15, a respectable time by any fool's standards.

Grandmother's apron

My grandmother is nearly 85 and in recent years has had her fair share of medical mishaps. Through all of this, she's remained fiercely independent and cognitively top-notch. But age wearies her and although she can play bridge, debate politics and annoy the living daylights out of me, she's not the woman she once was.

When we arrived last night at her apartment for an early evening meal she was there in her old apron. Her hair looked different, mostly because she had to lie down in between each stage of the recipes she still recalls from the depths of her culinary heart. So ruffled squashed patches there were. But her blue and white checked apron was there, looking cleaner than I remember. That's probably because she doesn't have the energy to cook, even for herself. But she lay on her bed six or seven times yesterday; as long as it took to complete meal preparation for her family. Her face is different: OK, so it's wrinkly and spotted by the mark of sun-years, but she just looks tired. But the ties on her apron were neatly in a bow. The ends are shorter than they once were, probably because she hasn't been able to exercise for the past few years as she once did. But it still fit, that apron of my childhood.

And it felt like I was a child again. In the bosom of my crazy, multi-cultural, food-loving family. I felt safe and then I was nearly in tears. It's my turn to be the responsible mother. To nurture and to feed and to be the salve when the world wounds externally and within. The knowledge that last night will probably be the last time we sit at her table and eat, drink and laugh makes my heart ache, but it was nice to have the foresight to appreciate that possibility and soak it all up.

My grandmother's apron will be a more important keepsake than all the silver goblets and crazy trinkets she's collected through her most fascinating life. Lucky, really, given that my daughter decided that painting the paper whilst wearing my green apron was boring and decided to instead cover the apron in daubs of her hue of choice - murky brown (also known as 'all the shades of paint mixed together in the one pot').

The good, the bad, and the ugly

The Good:
I've been short-listed for a fellowship, which if successful would free up some of my budget in the new group for other activities

The Bad:
One of the key people to my group at the new centre has decided to give up research and go into industry.

The Ugly:
My head is pounding, which if I catastrophize means I've got a whopper of a tumor, but in all likelihood reflects my lack of sleep, poor posture and it-feels-like-a-head-cold-coming-on brain.

The net effect? Well, you know. It's wholly pleasing to me that I have reacted to the second by just getting on with business. This is all surmountable. A total pain in the a*!e but it will be OK.

The countdown is on. 4 weeks to go, with two of these on holidays. Hurrah to new jobs!

Grant news

In my previous post I lamented the horrible day I'd had. Whinge whinge, I know.

Well, I was just trawling through my overloaded inbox and was about the delete an email that really looked like spam. The title and the email address is stemmed from looked seriously dodgy. I don't know why I decided to check it out, but I did. Lo and behold "Dear Dr SM, We are writing to advise that your application has been short-listed for funding approval by yadayada-blahblah . Short-listed applicants will be notified of their success or otherwise in early October 2008".

Well, I'll be... It's not a request for a lot of money but it would sure help the project.

And now I know why we keep getting up off the floor with our fists up. This science game is an addiction and it'd be really hard to go cold turkey.

Publish or Perish

I"M PERISHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today has been a bit of a crapola sort of day.
1) Really cool paper got rejected by super cool journal. Really cool paper probably actually sucks enormously but I was surprised today at how bad I felt after this news. I have no trouble whatsoever getting grants rejected (well, aside from the huge impact it has on my ability to actually do research. I just seem to be able to accept that this is part of research, I bounce back and look for the next opportunity). But papers being rejected is something else. At least the really cool probable-nobel-laureate co-author emailed to say that the reviews seemed ill-informed.

2) Local ethics committee has decided our amendments are too substantial and require a total resubmit. Doh! Like, HELLOoooooooooooooo. We're not kicking small children whilst drinking tequila and laughing about it. Groan. Time consuming. Annoying. Totally understand why they're doing what they're doing but I am still annoyed.

3) Random research nurse insinuated that I had failed in my duty of care to a patient tonight and so I came home a) late b) grumpy c) tired, and did I mention GRUMPY?!!!!!!!!!! Spoke to clinical mentor who described said individual as a "d$*!head" (pardon me), which made me feel better because ClinicalMentor never swears. Re-read my report and decided that not only had I been very clear about the patient's needs, I'd followed up appropriately. Groan. Grumpy. Annoyed.

Amongst it all, I managed to be a total noo-noo to my kids, my parents in law (who leave tomorrow morning and won't see their grandchildren for another couple of years), AcademicSpouse and probably even the cat. But he deserves it because he smells bad.

I will bounce back from the dejected feelings post-paper-rejection. Perishing would make me yet another statistic and I don't want to be a mere statistic just yet. Not unless it's because I fall into the rare category of She Who Has It ALL!

We are good for take off

Position descriptions will be finalised (by moi!) today. Contracts will then be drawn up. A few problems with my source of income, given that one of my grants depends on me retaining an appointment at the current place (GROAN...........). Met with more new people at new place to talk about new ideas and I feel invigorated. It's a nice vibe there and I hope it's the right decision. I think it is. Oh, heck, I have NO idea whether this will be professional suicide but I'll go down fighting.

Office refit.
Move data.
Move students.
Move staff.
New phone and data points to room
etc etc etc.

Meanwhile, my washing machine broke down and it took one week for the company to send a guy to attend for one minute (and NOT a second more, I promise you) only to tell me "I can't do this job. She'll need to go to the repair shop". ARGH! etc etc etc

This weekend my kitchen is being removed entirely so for two weeks we'll be living on take out (I'm thrilled to be honest...!) before the next one is installed. It's gonna be rough for a few weeks here...

Oh, and an authorship update. Another of my students met with OldBoss and me last week to discuss papers and thesis write up. My role in the work has been diminished to third or fourth author and when I contested this (because the person who will be second author - yes, I KNOW if it's not first or last it doesn't really count, but it's the bloody principle here... - has done very little, has no idea about the experimental design, implementation, analysis or interpretation) I was told "you don't want to spend your career making enemies, and you were signed on as a supervisor after second author". WHAT?!!!!!! Yes, I was signed on because 1) second author didn't have the expertise in the necessary area, 2) second author abused the student publically and provided no scientific support. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!

So I guess what I'm getting at here is that even though all of this feels chaotic and hectic and downright dusty, messy and frustrating, I think it's time for me to take the reigns and get this ship off the ground. And mix some poorly recalled metaphors, of course.

3, 2, 1....

Yo-yo guts

Some days it all seems totally awesome and impossible to derail this new venture. Other days I feel like I'm the only person that's not realised what a dumb arse idea it was to even THINK about setting up alone. Much less actually say it out loud, in public etc.

Loads of people now know. This is both good (relief) and bad (I actually don't have a contract yet and neither do my team members). I've had lots of good meetings with interesting people. There will be lots of new work to engage in and already people are talking about writing papers and I might even have my first international visitor to the lab. That person's also said "hey, I've got this idea and maybe we can work on it together and publish it?". Hah! Now that's NORMAL scientific behaviour, unlike my current environment in which as a co-investigator I get relegated to minor authorship, if that.

And then there's the kids. Most days it all seems like it will work out, this whole juggle babies, work, family and the few friends that still put up with me. But then one of the balls falls from the juggling set (in the form of infectious but not actually unwell toddler) and I wonder if it's at all worth the stress.

One of the people I met last week has moved from marketing to science. Marketing is one of the things I've considered as a career alternative. So it was interesting to chat to her about her reasons for leaving. In her words, she felt like she wanted to "give something back". So she took a whopping great pay cut (like HUGE) and did a PhD. This seemed quite admirable at first, but after further consideration I wondered how much closer she would ever really get to "giving back". In my line of research I am meant to be able to apply findings to health care needs of certain groups. In reality, however, I feel that it's unlikely that I'll ever come up with something so ground breaking as to really make much of a difference. Research by its very nature is esoteric, and a rather selfish pursuit. So I might be really interested in why X happens but will knowing that make a difference to people? Probably not.

Anyway, all of that just made me realise that 1) Marketing is probably not going to be all that fulfilling, although the pay packet might cause me to smile for a while... 2) My research needs (and will get) more focus and practical outcomes 3) I still really really really need to publish more or I'm screwed.

I think that it will be quite a lot better when we actually move to the new institution and get things going. It's all quite intangible now and that seems to leave me vulnerable to doubt. Topsy turvy, gut-wrenching doubt. Still, the nice thing about yo-yos is that they always claw their way up the string again.

Excited. Yay. YES!

Well I'll be...

In a totally amazing series of events, things seem to be coming together. Today I met with the bean-counters again and they are enthusiastic, talking about contracts, starting dates and making generally positive noises.

I am now speaking publicly about the fact that I've been offered a job and it's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. My students know, my staff know, my current head of department knows. People in the new place know.

THEN, I get an email from a really cool overseas researcher who I met recently at a conference in my town. Cool overseas researcher so enjoyed the town that sabbatical is now on the agenda. Did I know of any schemes and would I like to work on some projects together? YAY! AMAZING! YAY!

And I'm the person whose career is doomed.

I've cleared my diary for a few weeks and it's paper-writing time. I plan to succeed. I don't want to leave science and although I am not the best researcher in my field I can still make this work well. Very cool day.

Note to self: See how much of a happy mother you can be when you don't feel miserable about work? Remember that and the cheery look on your kids' faces today.

advice

don't sneeze with a mouth full of cereal whilst working on your laptop. gross.

My career is doomed (apparently)

Finally I got to tell my boss that I'm likely to be leaving soon. Which is silly, really, given that he's leaving. Or left. Well, physically he is present (now and then) but his head left a few months ago.

So that felt good. Really good. Of course, he told me that my research career was likely to all but end within a year unless I spent some time publishing. Which would be easy if I wasn't spending most of my time dealing with the fall out from him leaving and not communicating with anyone in our lab about what's going on.

This, however, did make me think about my career. I have decided that if after three years, I still stink research-wise, then I'm leaving science. If I just plain smell, well then I'll maybe have to wash...

Why three years? Well, to start up a new group, lab etc, is gonna take 18 months I think. There'll need to be some allowance for that to see whether productivity can increase or not. I've also negoatiated a three year package for me and my new team. After which, there will be no more life-lines.

It also struck me that mentors who get pissed off with you for disagreeing with them can have a tendency to put you down. I think his comment was another way of saying "well, without me you're screwed because you haven't got the 'right' stuff". But I know that's not true. So for the first time ever I made a conscious decision to ignore his comments and put them in the YourIssues bucket.

I am completing a fellowship application right now and needed my academic transcript. In amongst my annual reports I found all my thesis examinations. I read through my PhD examiners' comments and realised that back then I had SO much potential. I'm not sure why I've gone off track a bit in recent years, but suspect it's got to do with trying to have it all. I haven't adjusted well to motherhood and academic life and the relationship between those two roles causes me angst most days.

I want to get my mojo back and now's the time to do it. I figure that I'm in with a chance. I need to make decisions that are good for me, ignore the naysayers and get on with the job. I've got my whole career to lose but in a way that takes away any fear. My three year life-line might just be the making of me.

Of course, if anyone has any good ideas for a washed out science flunk then perhaps I should look into that too? I'll hold off for the next 35 months though, thanks.

Pride

Today my first PhD student is submitting. What a moment for the student, of course, but I feel like celebrating myself. Quite an occasion in one's academic career. I feel immensely proud of this student's achievements and it is great to see the sails of a newbie flutter into action.

Ripples

Confidentiality is an interesting topic. Is it human nature to gossip? I think it might be.

I received an email today from the postdoc of my EmotionalCard colleague saying that a very senior administrator in my likely next institution just told her that I was going there and bringing a team etc. Aside from the fact that of all the people in the world I DIDN'T want this news to get to prior to an official announcement, I find it perplexing that something I have requested to remain confidential has been leaked.

Why do I care about confidentiality? Because I have not told my current boss of my plans. Because I will take a good whack of the core team in the lab to set up with me. More importantly, however, I care because of the principle. I was clear in my directive that I did not want my staff or students to find out about this from other people. Of course, I have spoken to my staff and students but that's my business, not that of an administrator.

In the broader scheme of things it's really no big deal. I have just learnt though that this very senior administrator is not to be trusted.

I threw the pebble into the pond and the ripples reached the shore. The pebble should have been a clean diver with no splash. That's disappointing.

Pausch and legacies

About a month ago I googled 'time management' and came across the now famed Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. I looked at his web page and kept updating it to see how he was getting on. Nothing appeared there and judging by his tumor marker values, his condition was worsening rapidly.

Today I went to the local bookstore to buy a present on the way to a seven year old's birthday party. As we waited to pay for the "worm farm extravaganza" (yes, what was that doing in a bookstore???) I spotted the book by Pausch that stemmed from his lecture at Carnegie Mellon. I am not vulnerable to impulse purchasing, but I was keen to read it.

Academic Spouse just spotted it on the sofa and mentioned that Pausch died yesterday. 47 years old with three young kids. Best go and give my little ones big hugs in the night and not sweat the 'little stuff' at work. I love what I do, but I don't think my colleagues will be at my graveside on the 10th anniversary of my death.

I'm going to have me some time off this week to get up to speed with outstanding reports, write some papers, spend some time in the sun and fresh air. Then I'm going to resign, take a holiday and start anew. It will give me some time to read my new book. RIP Professor.

I swear this Prof is psychic!

FSP does it again with her comments on being flunky only with consent.

Maybe I should go read FSP's posts BEFORE I try to work it out for myself?!!!!

Now, how to teach a five year old about flunkiness?

Kids can be mean. I mean MEAN

My five year old started school this year. We put him in the local preschool so he'd get to know people outside of the university child care facility. He had a great year last year and went into his first year knowing some faces.

The first while has been fine. He's enjoyed the company of others and taken part in sport outside of school. Recently though I've noticed that some of his friends have been invited to parties when he hasn't. Not to worry, I thought. This is part of childhood and he won't have some of those kids at his birthday in a couple of months.

Today, though, he's come home very sad. Not just looking out of sorts but saying "I had a bad day today". Turns out one of the boys has been pushing him around, telling my son he can't play with that group of friends, and the group spent play times running away from him. I feel so desperately sad and just can't believe that five and six year olds can be so nasty.

So we spent some quiet time tonight talking about how there are other people to play with, that he's a kind person that lots of people like spending time with and not to worry too much. But if I believed all of that would make a difference to the way he feels then why am i so upset?

I've never believed in protecting my kids in layers of cotton wool. When my son asked about death, we discussed it openly even though he wasn't quite four. Maybe being too honest isn't so good, because it leaves feelings open to be hurt. I guess is was inevitable that he would be uber-nerdy like me and Academic Spouse. I just hope he develops his Dad's resilience to this sort of crap.

New mothers and hard times

Two friends have recently become mothers, at much later stages in their lives/careers than me. I lost contact with both women when I had my first child because their comments about my situation were hurtful. It's not that I expected them to understand and I like friends who feel free to pass comment but these two were really out of line (e.g. my firstborn was a few weeks old and had spent most of that time projectile vomiting and crying. One of these friends visited and told me not to hold him all the time and keep quiet or he would turn out to be weak and molly-coddled. Not particularly helpful when the warm ooze of vomit was still slipping down to the floor from where I sat to try to entertain them...).

So each of these women is now facing the perils of motherhood. One has been really unwell and recalled the very episode I just described when we spoke last night. She didn't apologise but she did just let me know that her situation reminded her of me all that time ago. The other has just returned to work and is having a really hard time. She is lucky I suppose in that her partner will stay at home three days each week but I don't think that makes it any easier for her right now. She messaged me out of the blue on the weekend and I guess this was her call for help.

Academic Spouse wondered whether I felt bitter and disinclined to respond to either of them. I have to admit that part of me thinks "well there you go. NOW you know what it's like", and not in a particularly friendly tone of voice. Of course, the overwhelming feeling I have is to run over there and give them big hugs and do whatever I can for them.

I think that women really need to stick up for each other at moments like this. It's all too easy to say "well, I had to do it hard and where were you for me?". The reality is though that none of us can be prepared for how you feel when you can't breastfeed five seconds after the birth, or when your child ignores you when you come home after work because they're downright offended that you had the audacity to leave in the morning. Thus, we can't expect our friends to 'be there' when we need them.

So I'll extend the ladder as close to the ground as I can for them. Not that I know any better but I suppose just seeing that someone can get through to the other side helps. That in itself reminds me of how far I've come. Even though some days I feel like packing it in and leaving science for a regular 9 to 5 job, I think this is doable. Today, anyway!

Addendum

Somewhat amusingly, CellBoy just facebooked me to say that he's reconsidered. Instead of science editing, he's wondering about a role as a stay at home dad. Problem is, "I need to find a wealthy, career-driven wife".

Aside from the wealth, perhaps after all these years we really are well suited. Perfect in fact. Brilliant!

Tomatoes Feel It Too

Super amazing journal bounced my paper. Argy bargy ensued about the next best place to send it. I want a realistic goal with the aim to get it published. Boss wants super amazing journal minus 1. Probable-nobel-laureate-coauthor suggests a strategic (ie realistic) second journal but Boss and PNLC have history and debate has broken out. Yawn.

But why the 'meat is murder' reference (oblique though it was)? Well, the past 24 hours has given me the chance to think seriously about how different people make decisions in difficult times. That got me thinking about my lovely friend, CellBoy, who travelled overseas to a strong lab to post-doc.

CellBoy and I met as undergraduates and I always tried to make him marry me. It was a bit of a running joke between us and we simply always had a lot of time for each other, but never any sparks. But I digress. CellBoy took more years than many put together to conduct his PhD. He was dedicated, spent more time at the bench than most people, but was just so thorough (OK, verged on pedantic!) that it took ages. He left with dreams of getting through things a bit faster next time around, but that hasn't materialised. The two year post-doc is much older than my school-aged child.

Good old Facebook has kept us together though and yesterday he announced that he's leaving science to work in science editing or some such thing. My dedicated, competent, totally lovely CellBoy is giving up. Of course, as a friend, I'm happy for him but it does make me wonder whether the Tomatoes Feel It Too.

On a less serious note (and I might get into trouble from all quarters for this comment), he happens to be one of the most girly men I know. So maybe that's his fault?! It would seem that pushing through the politics of my male-dominant environment would probably not be easy even if i harboured a Y chromosome.

Touche

This post from FSP pretty much sums it all up.

What I didn't mention in my earlier post was my plan B, quitting. I don't like to acknowledge that I sometimes risk ending up as a statistic, another woman who couldn't 'make it' in science.

Posts like this from trail-blazers with a conscience make me think it's OK to want to prove the #($*!ers wrong.

You can't change a system sitting on the outside.

Tactics

In an interesting twist, my role on papers is being pushed to the backseat in favour of paid RAs because it will be "good" for their CV. This is what happens when you don't agree with your boss, right? So instead of acknowledging the work that I've contributed to the project in terms of ideas, design, setup, analysis and the like, the person who was employed to do the day to day recruitment and testing will get at least five first author papers. I am livid and shocked and amused all at once.

Academic Spouse is shell-shocked at this, probably more than I am. True, I have trouble being direct in meetings when I feel totally fragile and the most likely response I"ll have to any argument is to cry! So what I need to do is confront him and suggest that it would be "good" for my CV to have more than one paper published with him from the many (more than five...) years I've been working in his lab!

I do need to stop with the whole "woe is me" thing and i know that. I need to get mean and be strong about this. I need not to be so loyal that I set myself up for a fall like this. I need to be independent and make sure I treat people with the respect they deserve.

Devastating tactical payback for not moving with him.

Papers and grants

I was asked to give a talk about alternative career paths in my clinical discipline. I tallied up the number of grants I have submitted in the past five years and it's WAY too many (more than 50). Relative to the number of papers I've submitted in the past five years, there is a clear message: My current work environment is unproductive. I have about a 20% hit rate for grants, which isn't too bad, but I'm not sure that the ratio of papers:grants is right.

So, today I submitted one paper (HURRAH) and one grant review rebuttal. The paper is likely to be rejected from the top rank journal the senior author wanted it sent to. The grant, which I submitted on a whim at the last minute, stands a chance of being funded judging by the comments we received.

I guess the impression I'm left with today is that I should trust my instincts about this stuff a bit more. That, and I also need to write more papers. SOOOOOOOOOO much data, not enough time.

It's raining again

In a completely unprecedented turn of events, I received a phone call from a fellow I met recently at a conference overseas. He's heard about my boss' departure and wanted to chat to me about a job opportunity. HHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Sorry, but I can't hide my delight here, because for many a year I've had people hone in on my biggest weakness, which is lack of confidence. Well, fluctuating confidence really, with a distinct winning edge for the 'lack of' days!

So it's a real buzz. Of course, this particular academic department has good and bad points, like them all. I was very clear and upfront (probably some folk out there will advise against this approach) and said that I was in the final stages of negotiations elsewhere and that I was flattered (yes, I used that word...) but I didn't want to give them the run around. This fellow was really nice, and asked whether I'd at least consider speaking to the head honcho (a really nice, if slightly scary, guy) before I signed any new contracts etc. Whilst I haven't got a contract I'd be a fool not to keep open these other options and so I said I'd be happy to chat if they felt that it was worth their while. So we'll see.

My concerns about being pigeon-holed by my next move as an "X" researcher rather than a "Y" researcher were allayed a bit last night too. I spoke to a clinical mentor who basically let me say what all my current fears are (fear of failure, fear of failure and, oh, by the way, I'm quite worried, anxious even, that I might fail....................). This mentor then just told me not to be stupid and paradoxically I felt a lot better.

So, options currently stand as:
Set up alone. Risk failure and total professional humiliation. Possibly have the time of my (academic life).

Stay where I am. Certain destiny is no job within 12 months

Move to another department within my current institution. Convenient, safe, and will end up with massive teaching load, which I currently avoid.

Move to another unit within same city. Almost certainly feel comfortable, excited at new prospects and then end up shafted because I'm a women with a cute but not totally useful skill set in a male dominated domain. This option is like reverting to an old drug habit. I need to come clean.

Underwater basket weaving was always a last resort at my high school. I don't think I'll end up there just yet but it's nice to know I have real options.

When it rains

OK, so the drought hasn't broken. Living in a place where there's been a drought for a decade, it is very weird when it rains. Not so long ago, my daughter saw a real downpour for the first time and was utterly amazed. I let the kids stand out in it because to experience something new and wonderful is something to be cherished. I think I might even have taken photos it was such a unique experience.

This last week has seen some amazing changes in the workplace too. So the saying goes "when it rains, it pours". And so it does. I have now been contacted by another department within my current institution that has heard of my boss' departure. When I indicated that I was likely to leave the institution I was asked by the HOD to meet and chat about what I'd like to do in the future. It was a good meeting and it was interesting to hear the 'other' version of a few events that have occurred in recent years. However, it was clear that there was no money for me, much less a whole team, even though HOD felt my skill set would be useful (it also helps that I have grants, which of course bring in additional money etc).

So I left thinking it was good to have had a chat but not much hope. Yesterday, however, I got an email from HOD to say that a meeting with our Faculty's dean was held and the dean would like my CV. ME! My CV (which largely sucks, it's worth pointing out. My only publications of note in recent years are in the journal of Motherhood-101).

I feel quite pleased about this but also am not keen to drag out negotiations at NewPlace and don't have the ability to lie to this department and say I'm really keen when I'm not. BUT, what if they offered something really really amazing? Like a promotion would be pretty ace (yes, I know I'm getting ahead here).

Anyway, I haven't replied and given that HOD asked for my CV ASAP it will soon become rude. ARGH.

In other news, grant reviews arrived last night. For the first time in years, my track record wasn't trashed. I rewrote my achievements section this year and wasn't apologetic about having two kids in the midst of a post-doc. Maybe that's worked. The reviews were generally positive but I think it's unlikely that the grant will get funded. I'm going to try a kick-arse rebuttal though and maybe that will get us across the line. Crazy, this business we're in.

It rained today too apparently. Literally, that is. I didn't see it but the smell outside tonight was fresh. Having options is a nice place to be in for once.

Science moves quickly

A couple of years ago, I began to collect data as a bit of a side project to core business. I had read about a new technique in my field and thought it would be cool to acquire data using it. One of my students is using some of those data in a paper he's written up and then developed a way of analysing it for all our participants.

This week I've been at a conference where it seems that every man and his monkey has now collected a little bit of data and we haven't published ours. I am so busy managing admin etc that I don't get time to sit and write as often as I'd like. Not much of an excuse though, given that science moves along just fine without you.

So although I was kind of happy that I was right to collect these data, it's just a stark reminder of how important it is to be selfish and protect your own time so you can be productive.

At this conference, I learnt that the promise made to me by my boss about potential promotions for me and Academic Spouse (the lures, as it were), were completely untrue. In addition, one of my colleagues also learnt that our boss has been approaching international folk since before Christmas last year to join our team in his new place. Not that any of us are going with him (which itself says a lot), but this is not what he told any of us. We don't much care about who he approaches, or the fact that he is approaching them. Problem for me is that he employed a new post-doc at the beginning of this year (a really strong post-doc, just back from maternity leave with her second child. BAD manners in my book at any time but worse in that situation). So some people manage being selfish and can move ahead as quickly in science as they like. I just don't have narcissistic PD (aside from writing this blog, of course....!).

The next fortnight will be decision time for me. If I didn't have a huge mortgage and family to support I think I'd leave my current lab before getting a new position. I'm appalled at my boss' actions. For someone who constantly reminds us about the importance of integrity in science, it really does make me wonder whether it's possible to survive unless you adopt that style of behaviour. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Time management

For a number of years now it has been clear that I either have a serious problem with time management or a serious lack of time to do the work that is on my proverbial plate.

I like the think it's a case of the latter, but right now it is late, I have not slept well (ie more than 4 hrs on average, which for me is not enough) for over a week and I'm blogging. Meanwhile, I have a 45 minute talk to write and it's deviated SO far from the topic I said I'd speak to that it's not funny. I have 33 slides. I figure a few more points and I'm done. But I'll do anything other than have to think.This also includes: pour wine, drink wine, eat toddler's jelly babies (naughty mother), eat school-boy's snack biscuits (double strike, I know), consider whether I need to pluck my eyebrows, decide my face looks old and tired in the mirror, clean the mirror, shift some clothes in the laundry basket, return to kitchen for more nibbles, logon to see how my little page of blogging heaven is faring.

Hmmmm...

So perhaps a time management course would be an effective use of my time? A PA, a post-doc and a bloody house-cleaner might be a better investment!

Back to the grind then.

Newness

In keeping with the new things happening in my professional life, we have today a new palette for SMBlog. Thanks to hypoglycaemiagirl for pointing out how dark my previous template was!

Met SeriouslyAmazingManWhoChangedMyField today. He's in town for a big conference that is on this week and next and a mentor asked me if I'd like to attend, along with one of her postdocs. So there were us three female scientists and then four men and the SeriouslyAmazing... I have read this man's work for years and so it was quite surreal. I was in awe of the breadth of his knowledge of the current field. What was also striking was the confidence with which the males presented their work. It was as though no-one else internationally ever did anything much of note.

I felt at once quite small but also quite excited about the possibilities of my next academic step. Just need to publish (oh, and write a 45 minute talk tonight...). yawn.

Students

Students are a mixed blessing really. They arrive so fresh and enthusiastic and it hardly seems fair to subject them to the trials and tribulations of a PhD. Yet they mature before your very eyes and towards the end of their candidature there is such a rewarding feeling; a sense of pride that they've 'made it'.

I am of the opinion that one's ability to complete a PhD is not a measure of intellect but rather of the ability to withstand the onslaught of youth. PhDs typically occur at a time when friends begin to get married, divorced, a few dare to try their hand at child-rearing and an unfortunate few meet an untimely early death. Indeed, a few years back I was asked to speak at a grad student seminar about my experience as a student and life since then. I counted up and the weddings, funerals and so on and was quite amazed at the volatility of my social life.

So in the past few weeks I have experienced a marked contrast between sets of students. On the one hand I have had a student ask to remove me as a supervisor because my response to questions was "unsatisfactory". That this change has been largely orchestrated by the colleague whose emails can best be described as emotive is particularly galling. My professional pride is crushed. On the other hand, however, are my eight other PhD students (yes, way too many) who are working hard, writing papers, preparing drafts and doing really interesting studies. Three of them are on the verge of submitting and I am so excited I'd like to hug them. They each have moments where it's clear they'd rather I never entered their lives, but on the whole they appear sincerely grateful for the effort I put into their academic development and future careers.

I suppose this begs the question of what our responsibilities are as supervisors? Should we have to sell our wares to cynical, spoilt students who expect we will do their thinking for them? My opinion is that if you do a PhD you need to earn it. It is not a free ride and although I know some people would disagree with that, that's just my view. If you're smart enough to get a PhD place then survival is about dealing with what life throws at you, both professionally and personally. My view is that I have a responsibility to train students to be intellectually 'tough'; to cope with dissent; to manage the ups and downs that are inevitable in academia.

So whilst for some reason I feel terribly hurt by a single student's decision and the way the details of that are being transmitted around town, I know that in the long run I'll be better off. You can only work with people who want to work with you, right? Right.

Resigned

What a month it's been. Wow.

Today my boss announced his resignation. First to me and then (one by one) to the members of the team. It's been a really unproductive, unsettling day for everyone. At least I had some (like months) warning.

The next phase begins.

Why do women in science play the 'emotional' card?

I recently received an email from a senior (professorial) colleague accusing me of poor priorities. I had made my apologies for a meeting at the last minute because my child was sick and I had to see a patient earlier than scheduled so I could take over the care of my kid from Academic Spouse. Given that the child has been vomiting for a week it wasn't one of the occasions where the snotty nose could accompany me.

At the end of the very long email was "I know this is hard stuff to hear (and for me to write) but we cant continue like this. I am full of respect for you..."

I don't think any man would end an email like that. If you have a view then just give it and don't attempt to qualify or soften it by being quasi-apologetic. I don't expect criticism of my perceived poor judgement to come with a disclaimer. This is not about how I feel or whether I think someone likes me. We should be able to discuss it in terms of facts and the objectives of the work, and then move on and have a coffee at the local cafe sometime later.

Indeed, this is exactly how events played out when my direct Professor disagreed vehemently with a course of action I took. He emailed me "I'm very unhappy and I don't agree with you". We discussed it by phone later that week (which was awkward but at least I got to provide my perspective). We agreed to disagree and we're getting on with business.

The most annoying thing was that I was seriously rattled by this Prof's email. I spent over 90 minutes composing a reply (Acad. Spou. says I should have just said "I'd prefer to discuss in person", which I tend to agree with). The next morning I woke in a state of panic, was horrible to my kids and felt like a crap researcher. So I guess emotions are always at play but I'd rather play them out in private than by email in the workplace.

I just need to learn to be a passer by.

Dysthymia

Yesterday I was a bit silly and booked way too many patients into my clinic. I was majorly exhausted afterwards and had to spend most of the evening, into the wee hours of the morning, writing reports to send out by today. I had more patients again today (I'm trying to wind down my practice so that I can shut one clinic completely in order to run a research group) and it made me wonder whether leaving science might not be a good option.

Pay in science is not terrible, but not as lucrative as other pursuits that half-intelligent folk might engage in. In the clinical world, however, I could probably earn in two to three days what I earn in five from research. It should be now be fairly obvious that I'm in allied health...!

Academic spouse was today awarded a major major grant. Like, super duper wow stuff. He's also writing another fellowship application and his CV is just totally amazing. So it makes me wonder whether little old me really stands a chance of running an entire research group. Maybe I could be Clinical Mother and have more time for my kids, my friends, my garden, myself.

I've always thought it would be a 'waste' to leave science after all this time. Now i'm not so sure. Two of my patients yesterday gave me such lovely compliments (one had been suicidal, but hiding it quite well from the myriad of professionals he'd been seeing. Until of course he walked into my consulting room and I thought it was pretty clear that this individual was not OK, and so I made a few calls to make sure he had some supports). Somehow research seems so self-indulgent at times. To give of oneself to truly assist another may well be a noble pursuit after all.

Or maybe I'm the one with dysthymia.

Swamped

I'm swamped and it's evident to everyone. I'm behind on deadlines, students aren't happy, colleagues aren't happy and most of all I'M NOT HAPPY!

The most frustrating part is that I can't just shout "BACK OFF FOR ONE MONTH PUR-LEASE! I'm trying to negotiate a new job and find one million dollars to support my lab". Not that this is an adequate excuse but it sure is tricky to manage all of that along with everything else that one usually has on the over-loaded academic plate.

So I'm grouchy and more tired than usual.

Sometimes I wonder whether it's worth oxy-torching the candle. Academic Spouse was eager to head off to work this morning, whereas I was dreading the sheer number of new problems that would walk through my door today. Maybe there's something in that. We'll see.

Bean counters

Earlier this week I met with the bean counters and the proposed new institution. The discussion centred on the fact that a) they would not underwrite the initiative and b) how was I going to generate income and provide a means for cost-recovery? I felt somewhat dejected after that little chat and it made me realise that in science we really do have to have a broad skill set. Not only do we have to be able to bring in and manage funds but we really need to be able to look at the bigger picture.

The rationale for this initiative is so clear cut in my mind, and that of the institute's senior staff and director (which is a relief!). It will, however, take a lot of money to fund and so conversations with bean counters do make me think long and hard about whether using that amount of money is really justified. I mean, apart from having to pay a mortgage etc etc, can I justify spending that much money on science, particularly if the science is a little esoteric?

The simple answer is that I can. Big business and government thrown millions of dollars are clearly nonsensical initiatives (gotta have a committee to decide whether we should form a group to look into the possibility that some action might be taken by an unidentified group of people in four of five years, when of course there'll have been a change in government etc etc etc. blah blah). Of course, because in big bus. and gov't there are plenty of people paid to slap a bit of shine on such things (aka advertising, marketing, propoganda etc) then the populace thinks it's all a great idea. Everyone gets swept up in the excitement and forgets that there's really quite a lot of money being wasted on not a lot of progress.

So is science like that too, or do we not do marketing very well? I think scientists do (and should) get swept up in the excitement of a new idea and all that comes with it. But being eternal realists they return to land pretty quickly (there are experiments to be done, you see!). No, what I think is that the typical scientist is not good at marketing, because honesty and truth are such integral parts of being a 'good' scientist. And that's where sometimes as a mid-career researcher it is really easy to become unstuck.

If I don't back myself to step up to the next level of this crazy ladder then no one else will either. That's such an obvious statement that it's almost embarrassing to write it. At this point in time, however, I don't know that I've really got the energy to do what is required to jump up and hope that I don't miss the rungs. I barely see my husband, my kids are the only ones in our area whose mother and father work full time and my friends keep telling me that I need to slow down (maybe I need to befriend a few more academic women!!). So this constant conflict makes me wonder whether it's all worth the effort.

Message to self: Watch This Space.

Bumped

My meeting with current boss was bumped today. Shame, because I'd worked myself up to tell him that I'm staying put. Well, not actually staying put, but just not moving with him.

Wimped out and took the easy option and sent a non-specific email whose lines were easy to read between.

Staff in the lab are well aware that something is up. One person said that it's similar to the feeling in the air just before their parents split up. I can't say a thing because it's not my place to tell them all that they're out of a job soon. I've told my grad students and some staff that I am looking for a job elsewhere but not the reason why. They are all pleased and will come with me. I just want this to be resolved so that the next phase can begin. I fancy a bit of stability in my work life.

In other news, started processing data from study that has no papers at present. Colleague and I talked about publishing data in one of the Nature stable journals. I'm about half way through the analysis so it might not pan out that way but that would be a nice way to say goodbye...

I am NOT your mother...

My new PhD student has been in my lab for two months. She is right out of undergraduate and has moved away from her family for the first time to work with me. Today in our supervision meeting it was pretty clear from the word go that all was not well. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that her eyes were red and puffy. Or was it that she wouldn't look me in the eye directly? Anyway, we quickly established that something was up, she didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to return home to deal with the issue and could she please have some goals to concentrate on for the coming week(s)?

At the end of our supervision session I gave my little spiel about PhDs coming at a time in one's life where 'life' just happens. During my candidature I attended about 10 weddings, half of which were great parties but in hindsight they should have saved their money (...), three or four funerals, a major relationship breakdown of my own and all that goes with it (lose house, possessions, cat etc). A PhD isn't really a test of how intelligent you are. Rather, it's a test of how well you can cope emotionally with the ups and downs of life whilst you're focussed intensely on a single outcome - the thesis. If you get into the PhD then you're 'smart' enough to finish it. It just happens that I know a lot of smart folk for whom life got in the way of writing up and they never completed.

At the end of all of this, she had cracked a smile and laughed a few times but her eyes remained devastatingly sad. So my next line kind of just came out and I'm not sure it came out right. I said to her that although I'm not her mother and I'm not wanting to have that kind of role, I have a responsibility to support her through the process of gaining her qualification. Thus, I explained that I felt that this extended to ensuring that she was managing at a personal as well as a professional level. Hence, if she either needed or wanted to contact me then she should feel free to do so after hours. If she needed help to access support services etc then I hope she would feel comfortable to ask for guidance etc.

I thought about this a lot for the rest of the day. As a graduate student I had male supervisors, none of whom discussed particularly personal issues (aside from the one who drank too much and then explained how pretty I was - another story, perhaps, for another time). I had some pretty awful things happen (mostly, in fact, as a result of me rejecting the super generous offer of a totally inappropriate student-supervisor relationship) and there was very little support for me from those people or their peers. So did that experience make me go 'soft'? Should students manage on their own and just get on with the work?

There are a whole lot of boundary issues with students. I discussed this after work with Academic Husband and we agreed that in this instance it was a good thing to offer some support. I've also asked one of the other grad students to catch up with new PhD student for coffee and chats because I suspect she's more likely to seek and benefit from support from her peers than her supervisor. It's just made me sit back and think about the best model for guiding students through such times and whether my own experience plays too much of a role in how I now approach such issues.

The way forward

Today I met with the director of the research institute I hope to move to. He is a well-respected scientist, having made significant discoveries in his field that have had international impact. He was a most interesting man and clearly very astute. He was extremely respectful but nevertheless asked incisive, probing questions. It was a delight! He talked about the institute's need for leadership in the role I am proposing to hold, but emphasised that good science should underpin the group's activities. This is the first time someone has clearly outlined a realistic plan to support my science and yet assist my development as an academic leader. Brilliant. Hurrah.

Today was also the first time my husband has taken one of our kids into work for the day with him. I couldn't possibly count the number of times I've dragged kids in to meetings, developed new artwork for every staff member in our group, raided the tea room fridge for milk... What was so impressive about this event was not actually that my husband did this, because he helps more than most men I know. The best part was how excited my 5 year old was when I met to pick them up in the afternoon. He had such a happy day and so much to tell me about and was really enjoying his Dad's company. Of course, there is a bonus to all of this, in that my husband is probably now more inclined to consider repeating this (5yo watched DVD on Dad's laptop during their team meeting, much to the amusement of the group, and then attended lunch with a bunch of visiting professors who were regaled with stories of said DVD etc etc).

Suddenly it all feels achievable. I see now why surfers like riding the crest on a big swell day.

Juggling

Over the Easter break my five year old son decided he'd like to learn how to juggle. This might have something to do with the fact that he's being taken to "Circus school" by his grandmother as part of his holiday break. My husband is a good juggler (literally and metaphorically) so it could also be genes at play...? (Now there's a cute but silly study to do).

Anyway, my mother does in fact have a set of soft, bean filled, juggling sacks. It's the circus theme again, as she really does have a thing about him joining the circus. It's sort of a family joke in a weird and twisted way. So attempt to juggle he did.

Three juggling sacks is hard for a five year old's hands to cope with. Just as you throw one in the air, eyes intently focussed upon it, your other uncontrollable hand sends another of the sacks skyward. Instead though, it spurts out laterally, which totally throws you when you go to fling the third sack of beans up. So it's a veritable mess, this juggling caper. But he kept trying and we had a LOT of laughs as we all took turns to show him that EVERYONE (except Daddy) has difficulty juggling.

And that's the brilliant thing about kids. They go on undeterred. He kept trying and laughing and spewing little bean sacks across the courtyard, into flower pots, across the table and so forth. I have little doubt that one day he'll juggle like a pro and not just with three little red blue and yellow sacks but with five. Or maybe burning torches, like the folk you sometimes see at organic music festivals???

It's nice to see a kid learn to juggle. It relieves the strain of the constant juggle of work, life and that utopian dream of balance between them. My juggling sacks are all over the floor at present. I need lessons from my five year old!

Resolve

After a fitful night of sleep, which hasn't happened to be for years, I was woken this morning to the usual cry of 'oiy wan bwekki' (loosely translated into Mummy speak, means "mother dear, have you woken yet? Oh, I would be ever so grateful for a small repaste. Perhaps some poached eggs with hollandaise on rye?").
oiy wan bwekki mumma.
oiy wan BWEKKI mumma.
OIY WAN BewkKi!!!!!!!!!!!!!.

Ahhhhh... wrestling through the haze into a new day. A mother's delight!

So I got up and tried all the usual stalling tactics ("Mummy sleep in your bed? You play with dolly? Teddy wants to sleep - Look, Mummy put him to sleep, nice and warm in bed [yaaawn]"), but to no avail.

So we cooked eggs (scrambled, not poached) and to-be-ignored mushrooms.
"OIY wan do eet, toats" ("Oh mother, do let me help you. There's no need for you to do all the work. Shall I spread my toast? Would you like a piece").

And I just felt numb. The noise that was my bird's-nest-haired daughter wanting to do far more than a two and half year old can was just so tiresome.

But then as i stood with my cup of lovely morning tea, looking across our dreary back yard, I thought "No. I am not going to let the events of the last 24 hours affect my entire weekend and that of my gorgeous family". We've had a lovely day since, despite the ongoing whine- and whinge-fest that seems to be our lot at present.


All of this just makes me realise how much I've developed over the past few years. It's a gradual process, developing one's sense of 'worker' self. As an adolescent, it's quite acceptable to question who you are in the world, how you relate to this person and that. I did my fair share of testing the limits back then, too! What I never expected was that this process would continue on, punctuated by work-related 'developmental milestones'. Where once I'd have thrown my arms to the sky in surrender, I now feel such a firm sense of resolve to stand my ground and maintain my principles.

PS. The font changes along the way is me testing what on earth was going on trying to post this. It's decidedly pretty though and makes a change from my usual black, green or burgundy style.

Weary

I'm exhausted, but can't sleep. The last two days at work have challenged me to the core. All I can think about is that I've sacrificed things on the home front so that I can try to excel in academia. So when that world starts to implode (people sense something is up in the group) and I'm on the receiving end of that frustration then I do start to wonder whether it's worth it at all. One of my colleagues said I'd lost my chirpy demeanor; up until now I've always been so good at the facade but perhaps the cracks are beginning to show.

Two years ago I was told that women academics with children who choose to work don't deserve special treatment. Who wants special treatment? I just want EQUAL treatment. And not to be chastized in the workplace like a child.

Little girl's just woken from sleep, which is a nice opportunity for a sorely needed cuddle!

Are men better at boundaries?

Just when the dust appeared to settle a newly appointed, only recently qualified, post-doc in my group has said that the role's not for him. This fellow had come very highly recommended and when I met with him about Project A I was duly impressed. I indicated that although I could see a future for him on Project A that at this point in time there was not enough in the budget to appoint a new member of staff. Would he instead like to get a start with the group by working on Project B?

So it seemed all sorted. Of course there's always more to the story. In this case the assistant previously working on Project B recently admitted to another senior investigator that she'd rather given up and left things in a complete mess. Covered her tracks as much as possible with me and then moved interstate (!). So I asked new male post-doc to assist me in getting things back on track and then continuing with data acquisition.

The grumblings started early but yesterday took an unusual turn with NMPD telling me in front of the entire group that he wasn't sure that he'd be happy doing what I asked of him. We met afterwards, whereupon he said "this is too much for me. I feel too stressed out and I'm not sure I want to continue any involvement with Project B. I really want to work on Project A in a consultancy type role".

So........... (yes, that was a lot of basic venting from me - apologies...). I spoke with my colleague, a post-doc who is still trying to work out how she'll fit in kids but who is certain she'll manage. The point I made to her was that perhaps men are just better at boundaries. Perhaps when they don't want to do something they just say no. Their self-worth is not bound up like a woman's by the need to please. But of course, like the little scientist I am, this was merely hypothesis testing and we decided this was utter rubbish. Both of our husbands work in academia and do what it takes to get the job done. They do not check their watch at 3.30 to see whether there is enough time to do the task someone might have asked of them. They do not leave at 4.30 to 'miss' the traffic, having arrived half an hour late to do the same in the morning. Perhaps some people are simply inflexible and let's face it, it's a tad out of date to assume that women 'need to please'.

It's just really made me wonder whether I've developed such a blinkered view of my crazy, busy life that my expectations of others are too high (regardless of whether they're men or women). Have my boundaries lapsed so much that I no longer appreciate what it is to be able to make clear distinctions between work and 'life'? As I sat outside this afternoon watching my little girl potter around the garden digging out weeds and scooping dirt with her trowel I thought that the answer was definitely 'no'.

Men aren't better than women at setting boundaries. It's just that when men say 'no' they're not viewed as weak, or 'not up to the job', or being undedicated. Perhaps that's why the events of the past 24 hours have troubled me. Well, that and the fact that I'm the 'new' research assistant on that project.

Funding for science

It's been a crazy few weeks with all sorts of major funding applications due. It's like an addiction really. The reward rate is very low but when they come, the rewards are high, tangible, brilliant. So we keep going back for more, year in and year out.

So I've done the annual begging and sent myself to the slaughter. My track record remains a bit of a shambles but it's hard to convince male professors that it is a valid choice to want babies and an academic career. It's just hard to do both all at once, particularly since one's most productive post-doc years tend to co-incide with the old tick-tock that biology so kindly throws into the equation. Will I get funded? Almost certainly not. Will I keep trying? Absolutely.

This of course has all taken on a new perspective of late, given that the status of my position will now have a far more direct effect upon others around me. If I don't have funding then my group ceases to exist. Which is ironic, because if I agreed to move with my current boss then I would have guaranteed funding for at least five years. Perhaps my placenta head has never recovered, because that's (objectively at least) really poor decision-making! Lucky we scientists like a challenge...

Progress

My meeting with the finance folk at the proposed lab site was really really positive. The rumoured-to-be-quite-blunt-and-weird head person nodded lots, commented that they were in agreement with my vision for the facility and my lab and said 'send us a budget proposal'.

I'm flat out writing reports, chasing my tail with papers that are on the backburner, data that needs analysing and students that need mentoring. I'm living on three to four hours sleep and I just signed up to act as Secretary on the local creche committee. My kids are divine, and at such a sublime age of exploration and discovery. Roll on Friday night so I can fall asleep early on the couch again...!

This can really work and I'm really excited about the prospect.

Growth

What a busy few days. And now it's full steam ahead.

Academic spouse and I have decided that we will definitely stay put. For him a move to set up anew would be a step back, or at best sideways. For me there is huge potential. But events this week have lead me to think that I can realise that potential a touch closer to home.

The support for me to set up my own lab is quite remarkable. I have colleagues keen to move with me, senior staff at the host institution contacting me regularly to set up meetings. Next week I will negotiate the setup, salary support and general package. I'm sure to ask for too little but I'm excited at the prospect.

My dearest friend and I were chatting about change today and I remarked that it helps in this business if you're not risk averse. I'm about to say no to five years salary support, new lab, new facilities, mentoring etc etc to set up my own group. This is the make or break. If I fail here then clearly I'm not cut out for science. If within three years I can develop a self-sustaining research group then I'll have grown in ways I never imagined possible. Well, the grey hair is predictable I guess........!

I hope there's not too much fallout from my current boss when I break the news. By this time next week a new world will have dawned.

Replaceable

Have you ever stopped to think about who would honestly miss you when you die?

When I try to weight up career vs family decisions, I always remind myself that none of my colleagues will stand at my grave and weep on the anniversary of my death, my birth, my wedding. The most likely scenario is that it will be my children, my family.

So it should not have come as a shock today to learn that in the quest for greater things in 'life' my current (and soon to move away to head a much larger group and pool of resources) boss is headhunting folk from overseas. On one level, it's entirely reasonable. On another if feels devastating as for so long I have held a special role within our group and I can see that slipping away. I now really understand what it means to realise 'the end of an era'.

I find it perplexing that I feel so saddened by the loss of opportunity when before me lie the lives of two individuals whose future is filled with choices, options, chances, luck, excitement and its foe disappointment, love, laughter, memories of us. In their lives I am (or at least so I tell them!!!) irreplaceable.

Is that not enough?

Support

If I move, the support I will receive will be no different to that which I garner now.

In my conversations with potential collaborators, and those who might provide finance to my (currently) very vulnerable team, it is incredible to realise how much support for my 'move' there is. Namely, that people are now saying that they've been wondering when I would go out alone and work as a truly autonomous researcher. It seems that those who possess objectivity have seen for some time what I have witnessed in the past week. That whilst I receive very strong support from above, it always comes with a caveat of some sort.

I've never liked the thought of bungy jumping. That I would voluntarily tip myself off the safety of a platform high in the sky to dunk my head under water several hundred meters below. Not me, I get weak knees. Who knows, maybe it's something I should consider?

The beginning

I am a mother.
I am a scientist, a researcher, a clinician, a mentor and mentee.

Today represents the beginning of a journey that is both exciting and terrifying. My boss has been head-hunted again and I'm not going. I've evolved with the lab over the past few years and although the move is said to be exciting and would represent a major opportunity, I am not going.

I would have access to dedicated equipment that I spend a good portion of my time at present fighting to get access to. My students would be guaranteed access and would finish in a timely fashion. Instead of spending my work life sardined into a shared office space, surrounded be filing cabinets that represent an occupational safety risk, I would get an office, admin support, funding for my team. But I am not going.

Is it because I am a mother and I don't think that my children's grandparents should be limited to twice yearly visits, if that? That's a part of it.

Is it because I've already uprooted my family once to move with the lab, set up from scratch and put my family at risk financially? That's a part of it.

The main reason is because it's time for me to assume in my workplace the same level of responsibility I have for my children. To grow up and lead by example, rather than tow the party line. I'm terrified of failing. This will be my record.