The grad school interview – Vetting the candidate

Last weekend, I asked how important is the grad school interview to admissions. As of Sunday, twenty-eight of my fine readers (plus myself) had responded to the survey on this subject.  A little over half had interviews before admissions, but only about a third of those indicated that the interview heavily influenced admissions decisions.

You can check out a detailed breakdown of interview importance by program and discipline on Google Docs. As I suspected, admissions decisions before interviews were more prevalent for physical sciences candidates (70%) than for bio peeps (20%).

Regardless of our individual experiences,  we mostly agree that the interview should have some role in the admissions process.

But what is it we seek to learn from a face-to-face interaction that we cannot extract from the pages of information required for grad school applications? Is it, as Bashir suggested, to serve mostly as a ‘sanity check’? A last chance to judge whether a candidate can hack it before investing time and money? Are there other subtleties or flags that we hope are fleshed out?

That brings me to today’s question.

Posted in graduate school | Leave a comment

Grad School Admissions – Paper vs. Person

It’s that time of year when most STEM departments at U.S. universities are winding down their season of interviews and recruitment weekends for their Ph.D. programs. But just what are those visit weekends for?

For some programs, acceptance (and rejection) decisions are made months before spring visits. Judgments of a student’s suitability for a program are based solely on what’s on paper – grades, GRE scores, recommendations, and personal statements.

In other cases, no decisions are sent out until the faculty have had a chance to interact with the candidates. The stock application serves as a filter to decide who meets the admissions criteria and who they want to interview. But the faculty want to see how candidates perform under pressure, how they might fit in with the department, or whether the they know what they’re getting into and why.

When I applied to mostly chemistry programs [redacted] years ago, all programs made their decisions prior visit weekends, and the visits were largely about recruiting students and interacting with potential advisers. From others’ experiences, it seems large, multi-departmental umbrella programs use interviews to sort the applicant pool further.

I’m curious – do the tactics vary by discipline? By program structure or size? Which programs make their decisions based on how a candidate looks on paper? Which committees want to meet face-to-face before making the call?

In 60 seconds or less, you can help satisfy my curiosity (and perhaps a few others) by filling out this quick survey. Just click below to get started.

In person or on paper? Take the survey.

Posted in biomedical workforce, poll | 7 Comments

The art of the sale

It was that time of the year again. I went to class, intent on my coursework as usual, but there was something else waiting for us at the end, the thing I dreaded all year*…

Catalogs and order forms. It was time for the school fundraiser.

Every year I was in elementary school, I had to sell something for the school. Christmas paper, donuts, chocolates, stationary… What we sold was different each year, but all students (and by proxy, all the parents and guardians) were expected to participate. We were supposed to be excited about the opportunity to pawn off overpriced trinkets and candies on our families and families’ friends. As added incentive, there were prizes for the top sellers of each class and grade.

I absolutely hated it. I would sheepishly hand the stuff over to the parents and grandparents, wait quietly, and dutifully return the forms to my teachers. I was never in competition for those prizes, and I never tried to be.

I am not a salesperson. I never have been. I would do most anything else for a club or school, but don’t ask me to go out and convince people to give me money…

What’s that?

Why, yes, I am pursuing a career in research.

Yes, as an independent investigator – if I can make it. What are you getting at?

Uh oh. Wait just a minute…

Damn it.

I’m chasing after a career that involves me asking people to give me money!

But this time I’m not selling keepsake boxes, M&Ms, or gift bags.

No, this time I’m selling myself and my ideas… Son of a biscuit eater!

You see, if there’s something that makes me near as uncomfortable as sales, it’s probably bragging about myself. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a cultural thing. Maybe it’s a personality thing. Whatever it is, I. Don’t. Like. It.

Yet that’s what I’ve signed up for. Multiple times a year, I am to try to convince a group of people that I am brilliant. That I have clever ideas. That my work will provide some crucial and needed insight.

And this time the stakes are higher. I won’t be missing out on a party. I’ll be missing out on my dream.

I’m starting to pay attention to how I talk about my work and myself and how my adviser and other investigators talk about themselves, their work, and their trainees. And I’ve realized that a big part of this business is the art of the sale.

The art of the sale is about more than simply knowing what you have to offer. Presenting a list of facts, figures, and achievements isn’t enough.

The art is about telling a story. You lead people through the plot, connecting the facts while sparking an interest. There has to be a clear focus and a unique perspective but one to which your audience can connect.

The art is learning to brag – but with subtlety. You must be confident in the cards you hold but without being overbearing. You have to sell your talents without alienating those listening.

The art is about recognizing and creating opportunities. It’s not just about getting the grant. It’s about planting seeds without complete certainty that you will ever benefit. It’s about connecting with people at seminars and conferences. It’s about negotiating with vendors and company reps to get access to materials and instruments. It’s about collaborating with people near and far to push your and their research forward.

The art is knowing which ideas, avenues, and opportunities to pursue. And which to leave behind.

The art is going out and trying. And trying. And trying again. And never giving up.

* Forgive the hyperbole, but it makes the story better than the truth that I didn’t think about until the time of year came along at which point I terribly disliked it 🙂
Posted in career decisions, communication, for the love of science, sales, things they don't tell you in grad school | 9 Comments

The long wait…

I recently finished George R. R. Martin’s A Feast for Crows, the fourth book of the Song of Ice and Fire series. The series tells the stories of the rises of falls of kings and queens vying for rule of The Seven Kingdoms, the ensuing wars, a dark ancient threat at the edge of the realm, and the men fighting to protect the lands that have all but forgotten them. Each chapter focusing on tells character’s point of view, and there are many of them. Each book has taken on epic proportions. At the conclusion of the fourth novel, Martin explains that as he was writing, he realized the book had grown far too large for a single volume. He decided instead to split the volume, publishing the tale of some characters in A Feast for Crows and saving the rest for A Dance with Dragons. The afterword was dated June 2005, and Martin hoped to have the fifth volume out within the next year. I laughed when I read it, as I knew A Dance with Dragons was not released until early 2011.

Of course, life has a tendency of running amok amongst our plans and making us wait for things longer than we intended. This is true even in–or perhaps especially in–scientific careers. The experiments you propose to your thesis committee take twice as long as you think. You’re sure you will be able finish your Ph.D. in 4 years, no problem; it takes six. You’re certain that manuscript is almost ready to go; it’s finally published 2 years later… Rarely does research less time than expected. You’re waiting on other people or administrative clearances. Instruments break. You get ‘sidetracked’ by unexpected findings or other projects. Established techniques stop working, animal models aren’t consistent with previous work, or cell lines aren’t surviving, and you spend weeks or months troubleshooting, getting the system back to where it was so you can move forward at last. The reviewers want those additional experiments. Whatever the cause, your plans take longer than you think.

Posted in Time | 2 Comments

The third bear can be hard to find

Time is one of those strange things of which I always seem to have too little or (on rare occasion) too much. It’s almost impossible to find the baby bear’s schedule, in which it’s all juuuuuust right.

A year ago, I was starting a new postdoc. Then I had the problem of too much time – or rather too little to fill it. As is so often the case, there were components and methods that needed to be established – the sort of things where you work for a couple of hours and then wait 18 more. I would read papers and organize lab areas, but I could only stand so much.

Over the past six months, I have been juggling experiments alternately with grants, manuscripts, or seminar presentations. Now I have more experiments than I have time, energy, or brain power to do. That’s OK: I’d rather have too much to do so long as, on the whole, I like where I’m at and what I’m doing. Over the past year, I have settled into my new lab and have become more like my old self, the one who is engaged, collaborative, opinionated and occasionally sassy. I am beginning to feel hopeful about my career again, as though it’s on the mend.

There are still days when research sucks, when nothing seems to work, getting data from experiments is like trying to squeeze blood out of turnip, and I just want to scream at the cells and instruments. There are many days that I wish I had more time (or minions) so I could do more. With the amount of work I’m juggling, sometimes a ball drops—some experiment is postponed, the apartment isn’t cleaned as well as I’d like, my husband and I forfeit a day together…

Mostly, it is my writing here that has been suspended. I still love to write and love the community I found while doing it. I have no intention of going anywhere, but this is one of my hobbies, a guilty pleasure in some regards. But for it to remain so, the writing cannot be a burden, cannot be forced. Eventually things may settle down or I may learn to manage it all better. I may not be doing everything I want to, but in the end, I’m doing so much that I do want to that I’m trying to enjoy what I’ve got.

Posted in balance, blogging, Scientiae carnival, Time | 2 Comments