I would really like to get some meaningful data.
If the research question was "what happens when you add A to B," I'm currently stuck on getting enough A and B to put together. It's monotonous, but necessary, and it makes me feel like I'm on a research treadmill: working, but not moving forward. I guess as long as I'm not falling backwards off the treadmill, it'll be an improvement from last year already.
There's a lot of little things that need to be taken care of before I make any REAL progress... like figuring out what the normal patterns of gene expression are in the frog before I go in and mess it up with chemicals and the like. Since I'm currently in this stage (normal expression), I don't feel like I'm really contributing anything until I can go in and mess it up. And when I say "mess it up," I expect to see some dramatic changes.
...which is really not how science is supposed to work. Just because we think something is going to happen doesn't mean it will. And just because something happened, doesn't mean it's important (statistically significant). Several times last year, I'd get mini panic attacks when I got my results and they were contrary to my hypothesis or weren't significant enough to support the hypothesis. So next time I do things, I should probably stop panicking afterward... unless the results are skewed because the machine died (knock on wood).
Going back to making progress, if I look at what I did last year and how many times I had to do that obnoxious cloning experiment, I guess I can say I got stuff done. The only thing is that I really don't want my research progress to be broken down into years...
I really need data.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Year 2 in review
I really need to write in this thing more often. There's one more month left before the second year of grad school is done, and before I forget, I figure I should write this schpeel now rather than two months late.
I hear from older/former grad students that the first year is emotionally the hardest, while the second year is academically so. First year, you adjust to new surroundings as well as a switch in lifestyle. Second year is when you get a permanent advisor, a general thesis topic, and a taste of grant-writing and presentation-giving (rawr, prelims).
First year wasn't really that bad; I had projects that I was interested in, but I didn't feel as much pressure to get good (functional/reproducible/publishable) results as I did this past year. I spent a lot of second year perfecting lab techniques -- like trying not to get 0% yield -- and REALLY understanding the topic at hand. Now that I think about it, I probably didn't see the big picture side of things until two or three months before prelims, when I pretty much shut down and went into hibernation with a giant stack of papers.
In retrospect, I thought the prelim process (and by "process" I mean just the oral exam) was a lot of anticipation, which scared everyone into studying. I thought my committee asked reasonable questions, all of which pertained to the mock grant I wrote. I thought it was tough, but fair...and I only say this because I passed in the end. :)
***
I'm kinda glad second year is over. My friend and I were talking about what that former grad student told me, and we both agreed that while first year wasn't too bad, second year was academic and emotional challenges rolled into one. For one thing, I know several people who just left their programs because they lost interest or decided that it wasn't their calling. I know others who have been diagnosed with depression and are currently seeking therapy. When news like that goes around, it's a bit of a morale crusher, especially since these things seem to always come by surprise.
I'm sure that people applying and entering grad school know all about the academic challenges; in the end, you're supposed to discover, or "add on to existing knowledge," if you will. You can't tell if a promising project at first might lead to a dead end later on, and even if you do get good results, you can only say that they "suggest" or "don't seem" to be part of some larger picture. Nothing is ever known for SURE.
On the flip side, I'm not sure how many entering students know about the emotional challenges that come as well. I'm not just talking about personal problems, but also dealing with lab-related issues outside of lab. There's been several instances in second year where results could make or break my day. Several times during second year, I'd spend a good two hours setting up some experiment, and have the whole thing go to waste because after I got the results, I realized that the negative control had gunk in it. Add that to me waging war with the qPCR machine and the pH meter, and the end result is me complaining on the phone to some very uninterested person at 11pm. They start wondering if I have a life and mind outside of lab. The answer is yes, but it depends on whether or not I'm away from Ann Arbor (not that often).
***
So here goes into third year... as Sherlock Holmes once said, "Data, data, data! I can't make bricks without clay."
I hear from older/former grad students that the first year is emotionally the hardest, while the second year is academically so. First year, you adjust to new surroundings as well as a switch in lifestyle. Second year is when you get a permanent advisor, a general thesis topic, and a taste of grant-writing and presentation-giving (rawr, prelims).
First year wasn't really that bad; I had projects that I was interested in, but I didn't feel as much pressure to get good (functional/reproducible/publishable) results as I did this past year. I spent a lot of second year perfecting lab techniques -- like trying not to get 0% yield -- and REALLY understanding the topic at hand. Now that I think about it, I probably didn't see the big picture side of things until two or three months before prelims, when I pretty much shut down and went into hibernation with a giant stack of papers.
In retrospect, I thought the prelim process (and by "process" I mean just the oral exam) was a lot of anticipation, which scared everyone into studying. I thought my committee asked reasonable questions, all of which pertained to the mock grant I wrote. I thought it was tough, but fair...and I only say this because I passed in the end. :)
***
I'm kinda glad second year is over. My friend and I were talking about what that former grad student told me, and we both agreed that while first year wasn't too bad, second year was academic and emotional challenges rolled into one. For one thing, I know several people who just left their programs because they lost interest or decided that it wasn't their calling. I know others who have been diagnosed with depression and are currently seeking therapy. When news like that goes around, it's a bit of a morale crusher, especially since these things seem to always come by surprise.
I'm sure that people applying and entering grad school know all about the academic challenges; in the end, you're supposed to discover, or "add on to existing knowledge," if you will. You can't tell if a promising project at first might lead to a dead end later on, and even if you do get good results, you can only say that they "suggest" or "don't seem" to be part of some larger picture. Nothing is ever known for SURE.
On the flip side, I'm not sure how many entering students know about the emotional challenges that come as well. I'm not just talking about personal problems, but also dealing with lab-related issues outside of lab. There's been several instances in second year where results could make or break my day. Several times during second year, I'd spend a good two hours setting up some experiment, and have the whole thing go to waste because after I got the results, I realized that the negative control had gunk in it. Add that to me waging war with the qPCR machine and the pH meter, and the end result is me complaining on the phone to some very uninterested person at 11pm. They start wondering if I have a life and mind outside of lab. The answer is yes, but it depends on whether or not I'm away from Ann Arbor (not that often).
***
So here goes into third year... as Sherlock Holmes once said, "Data, data, data! I can't make bricks without clay."
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