Posted on by johanne_marais · 2 Comments

Academics as Architects: How to Build a House

I used to dream of becoming an architect. Quite literally. I would conceive of geometric buildings which defied all natural laws and then wake up to sketch my creations. My earliest memories of drawing hotels and other-worldly homesteads is around the time when I was eight years old. I liked structure; shadows; lines; shapes. I think more than anything, I liked playing with the concept of home.

I moved around plenty in my early youth. Sometimes this left me longing for the spatial stability of that “This is the home I grew up in” narrative which so many of my friends told. Now, I feel most comfortable in the newness of exploration, and houses unbuilt, and places where I haven’t lived yet. This comes with realizing that the only home we ever truly have is our body: the physical form that takes up space, moves us through the structures which we inhabit, and into the professional or interpersonal positions we occupy.

Jun’ichirō Tanizaki writes this short but expansive stanza in his essay called “In Praise of Shadows”:

“In making for ourselves a place to live, we first spread a parasol to throw a shadow on the earth, and in the pale light of the shadow we put together a house.”

The parasol here is what I see as casting a foundation. Postgraduates may do this alone, or maybe the groundwork was laid with a supportive family, or by a privileged secondary education. The pale light of the shadow is the determination to see a project through.

Many tertiary students attend a university far from home. The postgraduate experience has reminded me how we can quickly spend more time in the university than we do in our houses. As a postgraduate, you finish a degree in at least two years but sometimes up to five (or seven if you stick around for a postdoc). There’s an intimacy and proximity in pursuing postgraduate studies together, not the least because we spend a wealth of time in the same space.

Ultimately, we are all building one another’s houses. Stay with me on this:

Imagine for a moment your life as a dream; a plan… You are the architect. You have an idea of which stairs need to lead where, the type of windows you want to gaze through at the world, and which areas in your life you’d prefer to keep private. As I have engaged in my higher degrees, I encounter peers, professors, groundskeepers, cleaning staff, administrators or undergraduate students who actively build me up or (hopefully, unintentionally) break bits of my house down. This allows me to understand myself better through my strengths and points of weakness; areas where I need to put in work; humility to ask for help when I need it.

Research groups are to the postgraduate experience what architecture firms are to the industry of construction. They have a particular niche; a style of design they like to follow; shared interest in brainstorming new projects. Still, opportunities to collaborate across research groups or even across research institutions can build the strongest houses.

Over time, just as in construction, each academic scholar gathers the knowledge of how to build from the ground up. Their expertise is shaped with experience and through making mistakes. So, my unsolicited but honest advice for anyone laying the foundation for a postgraduate degree or path in academia is this:

  • Know enough about the type of house you want to build that your vision is clear.
  • Work with people who have skills where you have space to learn.
  • Accommodate using new materials or adjusting your planned budget and timeline.
  • Remember that things will likely go wrong, and you may need to return to the drawing board.
  • Keep building your house, and one another’s, one brick at a time.

Somewhere between a childhood dream and placement on the waiting list for the Bachelor of Architectural Studies, a natural human process occurred: I changed my mind. I had experienced compromised health for some years, and my problem-solving side nudged me into a pursuit of understanding the human body. I’m still fascinated by structure; shadows; lines; shapes. Biology is the architecture of deities, and even architects look to the natural world for sustainable solutions. In following my own advice, I embrace both the biologist and the architect within – ever ready to return to the drawing board again.

Posted on by tasvidaya

The art of learning

Let me stop you right there. I’m not going to give you tips on how to ace your next exam, or the best method for memorising chemical formulas. Instead, I’m going to share with you one of the now-best experiences of my life, and from that, I’m sure you’ll get the “lesson” (see what I did there?).

Can you imagine studying the sun for 4 years of your life, and then, suddenly changing course to study the planet Earth? Seriously, who would be silly enough to do that? Me. I am said person. Although in my case, I studied biochemistry for 4 years and then suddenly decided to switch to cancer biology in my PhD. Crazy right?

“Yes, you’re crazy, so why make this switch in the first place?” After completing my Masters, I desperately wanted a change in my life, and I knew that it had to start with my PhD. I was always two-minded between biochemistry and cell biology. Since I experienced biochem, I decided to give the other field a shot (also, cancer research is really cool!). After being lucky enough to land a cool cancer project along with an empowering supervisor, the hard part began. I mean, how do you get a TERMINAL degree in a field you have absolutely no experience in (excluding the one or two undergrad practical’s)? You LEARN.

“So, she’s changed from biochemistry to cancer biology…Is that a big deal?” YES, in biochemistry I only dealt with proteins and the only time I worked with cells was to get my protein. On the other hand, EVERYTHING in CELL biology revolves around cells. Besides reading papers, designing experiments and the occasional pity-party, that’s about the only similarities between these two fields in terms of techniques.

Of course, I knew this would be a challenge, but oh boy was it the biggest challenge I ever experienced. Let’s start off easy:

  1. The proposal: From the years of scientific research experience, writing up a project proposal wasn’t too difficult considering I knew the basics to get me started. However, entering the field of cancer research was TOUGH, to say the least! I had dozens of papers and no clue where to start. Between you and I…I still can’t believe I pulled off that research proposal.

“How would you rate your experience?”

2/5. Not happy.

  • New team: Leaving my old research team was another toughie. During my first year of research, we usually came in a group to meet our new lab mates, so I was always comfortable knowing I had my usual peers around me. This time, it was different, it was just me, and yes, I was quite nervous about meeting these new people. But this experience turned out better than I had expected. Without having anyone to lean on, I was forced to become more extroverted than normal and within my first week, I was already feeling both comfortable and welcomed in my new setting. I realised how capable I am of breaking into new environments and forming relationships with those around me.

“How would you rate your experience?”

3.5/5. Feeling great.

  • Lab work: I’m not going to sugar‑coat this part. I killed my cells, I contaminated my cells, I used a colleague’s WHOLE bottle of media (by mistake OF COURSE), I incorrectly made-up cell stocks for the entire first month, and the list goes on. I laugh about it now, but at some point, during those times, I really felt like giving up. There were days where I questioned whether switching my field at this point in my academic career was the right move.

“How would you rate your experience?”

1/5. I’m crying myself to sleep.

Present day: Fast forward a couple of months and I’m proud to say that I am still here, standing tall. So, let’s re-evaluate those experiences, shall we?

  1. The proposal:

Achievements unlocked: The ability to read, understand and communicate science in more than one field (which I am currently proud to be using as a freelance scientific/medical writer 😊)

  • New team:

Achievements unlocked: Self-reliance, the ability to network and form interpersonal relationships, strengthened team-player skills.

  • Lab work:

Achievements unlocked: Training on new lab techniques, alternative data analysis methods, exposure to multiple lab environments. P.S. My cells are now healthy and alive.

So, whether it’s a new job, field of research or complete diversion from your usual activities, there is always one constant challenge, that is, to LEARN. It’s always tough at first, but the lessons prepare you for an amazing future. Of course, I still have a lot of challenges on the way, but as long as I continue to learn, then I have nothing to lose, right?