Feedback on LIMS?

I promise I have a real post that is oh-so-close to being finished. But for the moment, you have to bear with a bit of shameless crowd-sourcing.

In my current postdoc lab, organization and tracking of reagents and supplies is a small disaster, to put it mildly. Since we are now 3 postdocs (woohoo!) and 2 of us are just digging into our new research, it seems an opportune time to get the lab’s shit together. Before futzing around with software too much, I want to know what (if any) management system you’re using in your lab.

We want something that is simple to use, reliable, searchable, efficient… The major use will be for inventorying antibodies, chemicals, supplies, etc. It would also be useful but not necessary to share protocols. We’re not really looking to store lab data, though.

I have a little experience with LabLife, but I’m curious about other systems. I’ve heard about BioKM but am unclear about the advantage it provides that makes it worth the money.

Any feedback on systems you’ve tried would be greatly appreciated 🙂

Posted in lab management, resources | 10 Comments

Christmas Eve Discovery

Ah, the holiday season. I’m taking more time this year than previous ones, because it had been a year since I’d seen my family. Plus the lab is empty, I won’t be getting some key reagents until after the New Year, and my new boss didn’t freak out over any of us taking a couple of weeks off–especially as he is on a different continent out of communication. The trip has gone much as expected. The train ride-our first on Amtrak-was long but fun. Family behavior is within standard parameters. And there isn’t any alcohol, though I could have used some this weekend. There was a surprise white Christmas, that was actually all snow and no ice with sufficient accumulation for a snowball fight and sledding.

Snowfall at the homestead

One of the highlights was seeing my 2-year old niece on Christmas Eve. She’s pretty friggin’ adorable and hilarious. It was fun getting to watch her open presents. Rather than ripping open one and moving to the next as I fully expected, she’d open one and, after she had some help getting it out of the packaging (I mean really, do they have to make it so hard to toys out of the box?), she wanted to play and figure it out. It took coaxing to get her to open another present.

Magna Doodle

The Magna Doodle of my childhood--or at least one very similar. Today the frame is fancier, but it's otherwise unchanged. (Image via Wikipedia)

There were two that held her attention for quite some time. The first was a toy I recall fondly from my childhood: the Magna Doodle, or whatever they’re calling it now. If you were born before the era of this invention, you can write or doodle on it using a magnetic pen or stamps; then, you slide the little bar across the bottom and, like magic, your doodles disappear, leaving a clean space to doodle again. My niece was fascinated by this. She would use one of the stamps to black the entire field, then erase it, giving her dad a quizzical look, as though asking, “How’d it do that?”

The other big hit, much to my pleasure, was the Lift-Off Rocket Playset that Paramed and I gave her. Unbeknownst to me at the time of ordering, it was a fitting gift as her dad (my brother) in great geek fashion is already corrupting her. Earlier in the day, he pointed to a model of the Enterprise, NCC-1701-D (i.e. the one from Star Trek: The Next Generation) and asked her, “What’s that?” She clearly stated, “Starship.” And to think, he gives me a good ribbing about being a geek. Anyhoo, the little rocket makes sounds–which are different when it’s upright vs. on its side–and has compartments for the accompanying astronauts, space dog, and dune buggy, plus a crater and a three-eyed alien. It took all of about 10 seconds showing my niece the doors and sound button before she was moving everyone in the spaceship around, sending the dune buggy rolling, and chasing the dogs around the kitchen with the rocket in tow.

There was something about the way she lit up when she found something new or figured out how to make something work that made me smile. It reminded me of the pure joy of imagination and discovery–the true reason I decided to go into science. It’s perhaps one reason I’m fond of the story of the schoolchildren’s bee project, published in a Royal Society journal.

As Alom Shaha points out, science is a creative process. Sadly, because there is so much pressure that students perform well on standardized tests, much of primary and secondary level teaching is aimed at teaching students the answers to test questions and how to take such tests, rather than showing the beauty and fun that can be found in science.

And honestly, many of us “grown-up” scientists suffer from a similar plight. We become so focused on generating the correct hypothesis, gathering the data to support it, turning it into a publishable manuscript and fundable grant that we lose the wonder. It’s about objective measures of output, e.g. papers and money. We turn science into a formulaic practice, one where deviations from our expectations are met with exasperation instead of curiosity. But the truth is, there is so much in the systems we study that isn’t predictable, that doesn’t line up with previous presumptions. And that’s not a bad thing.

Don’t get me wrong. The scientific method–making an observation, then a prediction, and designing and conducting experiments to falsify the hypothesis–has its place. But rational thinking need not preclude creative thinking. Some of the greatest scientific discoveries grew out of a little creativity applied to accidental observations.

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “Science does not know its debt to imagination.” Perhaps I’ve already grown cynical, but the current system–at educational and research levels–rarely acknowledges or rewards imagination (a view shared by at least one other person, as Andrea Kusweski shares in this fantastic post). I, for one, want to keep the childlike joy of discovery and the imagination that goes with it, even when it comes to “serious” research. And I want to share that element of this science thing with my little niece as she gets older. I have no plans to turn her into a scientist (unless that’s what she wants ;)), but I do want her to know how much we owe to an inquisitive nature and creativity–maybe with the hope she’ll understand why I love and stick with a career that can be brutal at times.

Posted in attitudes, barriers, career decisions, family, for the love of science, science education, science satisfaction | 6 Comments

The difficulty of personal statements

What is it about writing personal statements that make the mind come to a screeching halt?

It has been 8 years since I have had to write a personal statement for something on a professional level, at least having it described as such. I am now preparing an application for a mentored career development award, a mechanism intended to prepare trainees for independent research careers. The new-ish NIH biosketch format requires a personal statement explaining why I am “well-suited” for this award. In addition, major sections of the application focus on my background and potential to become an independent investigator.

I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. Sometimes I have trouble talking about myself: knowing what to say, how to brag without coming off as arrogant, how to provide appropriate acknowledgement to influential individuals without appearing as a wallflower. I know how to talk about my research, but the people reviewing this will be looking for more than “I like science, and I’m good at research.” It seems to me that the major question isn’t “Can you do great science?” but “Can you–with a bit more training and mentoring–grow to lead others in doing great science?”

Outside of the science, what does it take to be a leader? In my mind, leadership requires striking a balance between being receptive to ideas of team members but also knowing when to be assertive and say, “This is what we’re doing.” Being too controlling creates a dictatorship where people are unhappy and unmotivated; being too diffident creates a disparate and unfocused environment where nothing gets done. It requires innovation and creativity. You have to have a vision for your program, with short- and long-term goals and a strategy for accomplishing them. You have to demonstrate commitment to that program but not be so inflexible as to continue down a path against all indications that it’s a dead end. It means being willing to take risks but also knowing when to cut your losses and abandon a fruitless effort, even when it’s your pet hypothesis. You have to be able to communicate your vision and strategy to your supervisors, peers, subordinates, and granting agencies, to get them excited about it. And you must be able to execute the strategy, organize the people and resources ot achieve the goal. You must have integrity because those above and below you must be able to trust you. I also think that the best leaders are also good mentors.

How do I show that I possess or am capable of developing and honing those traits? This is where I’m getting stuck. This is where I have to dissect my life to date. What can I draw out of experiences in graduate school, my first “failed” postdoc, and my new postdoc to demonstrate my leadership potential? Is there more outside experience I can bring in to highlight particular skills? And how do I accomplish all this without treading the same ground as those before me and without sounding clichĂ© and/or self-satisfied?

Or am I just making this much more difficult than it should be?

Fire away. In the meantime, I’m going to try to get some professionally productive writing done. Sigh.

Posted in grants | 10 Comments

12 Months of Biochembelle

First, a little bloggy business: As you probably know by now, I decided to stop blogging at LabSpaces (you can find my farewell post there) and will be posting all my ramblings here. I’ve been archiving my LabSpaces posts here tonight, so apologies for the entries you’ve already seen that are popping up in Google Reader.

Now, onto bloggy fun: It’s that time of year again–the time the DrugMonkey dredges up the Twelve Months of (fill-in-the-blank) meme. The rules are simple: Post the link and first sentence of the first blog entry of each month. A couple of mine aren’t technically the first post, because the first was a call or reminder for carnival posts or a note about moving. Also posts for Aug., Sept., and Oct. were originally posted at LabSpaces, so if you want to check out comments, head over there.

So here goes:

Jan – I am back from my unintended blog vacation.

Feb – “I can’t believe that’s a paper.”

March – Paramed  and I got into a not-so-little tiff last night.

April – Sustaining a career in science–whether at or away from the bench–takes a lot, in fact much more than you think starting off.

May – It goes without saying, There’s a massive set of skills that you need to succeed and to move forward in science that you’ll never learn in a classroom.

June – Every research scientist has his or her own reasons for choosing a research path.

July – For reasons that might be discussed at a later date, I am looking for a new job.

Aug – Genomic Repairman, it seems, is a fanboy of NCI Director Harold Varmus.

Sept – With his daily music posts, Genomic Repairman has clearly demonstrated that scientists can possess a great love of music.

Oct – Everyone has a different approach, and approaches vary between career stages (e.g. undergrad, grad student, postdoc…).

Nov – One of my favorite new blogs this year is Retraction Watch, written by Adam Marcus and Ivan Oransky, both carrying substantial science editing and journalism credentials.

Dec – Women–in many arenas–are often not as readily recognized or recalled as men in the same arenas.

If you blog, consider yourself tagged 🙂

Posted in blogging, meme | Tagged | 4 Comments

Gender and blogging (and everything else)

Women–in many arenas–are often not as readily recognized or recalled as men in the same arenas. There are many causes and variables, ranging from overt sexism to much more socialization aspects. Often, there are many women in these arenas, they’re simply overlooked. Sadly a surprising number of people–both male and female–react negatively to seemingly innocuous ways to increase recognition and visibility.

Take this example, for instance, which started with a simple but piercing observation and question. Some months ago, following the launch of several new blog networks, Jenny Rohn noted that there was a prevalence of male bloggers represented. This sparked some questions in the blogosphere. Was this representative of the makeup of science blogging? Doubtful. Well then, where were the female bloggers?

Martin Robbins asked precisely this question. Robbins was flooded with responses on Twitter. Within a couple of days, there was a list of over 100 women science bloggers–and even more listed in the comments. At some point, someone suggested an aggregate feed, and Kate Clancy–prof, mom, and roller derby diva–created the Women Sciencebloggers (#wsb) FriendFeed.*

Recently, I posted a link to the #wsb FriendFeed on Twitter. Some folks (including a couple of male bloggers) were very receptive and kindly retweeted the link. And then came a reply I perhaps should have expected: “A women science blogs feed? A tad segregationist, don’t you think?”

I proceeded to have a conversation with the person to explain where it came from and why it was necessary (at least from my perspective).  Isn’t it the quality of writing that matters? What does gender have to do with science? Why not feature a mixture of good writing? Does this really contribute to gender equality? Although this question was about science blogging, I’ve heard similar debates regarding disciplines in science, and I suspect they’re the same ones that are had in many other fields. So, if the goal is gender equality in a given arena, why single out or draw attention to a particular woman or group of women? Here’s my take, which I can’t fit in 140 characters.

Isn’t it the quality that matters? Why not feature a mix of good writing, independent of gender?

Everyone should be judged, first and foremost, by the quality of their work, whether it is writing or science or art. But to judge the work, you first have to see the work. And that is a where this all starts. Female science bloggers don’t seem to be as visible as male counterparts. The same situation can be observed in research when, for example, tossing around ideas for seminar speakers or panel members; it often takes someone mentioning, “Hey, there are no women on this list” before people start throwing out the names of equally accomplished women. The reasons are numerous and complex. The goal of the #wsb feed is to increase the visibility of women science bloggers, hence it features women science bloggers. Calling attention to women scientists or women bloggers may not contribute directly to gender equality, but I think it does change how people perceive the field.

What does gender have to do with __________ ?

Nothing. And everything. I hope that most people would agree that there are no intrinsic differences in talent or quality (of writing, research, leadership…) that are attributable to gender. Being a woman does not inherently make me a better or worse scientist or blogger than a man. But gender–and associated privileges, stereotypes, –do have an affect on how we see, hear, do, and interpret things. It also alters others’ perceptions and expectations of our attitudes and behavior.

I consider myself quite fortunate. I never considered my being a woman in science as anything out of the ordinary until I was in grad school, because I had extraordinarily supportive parents and instructors in high school and undergrad. But as I look at higher levels in science (e.g. professors, managers…), I see fewer and fewer women. The longer I stay in science, the more I see the unique challenges and attitudes that women encounter. Again, some are subtle, some are not: how many times I get asked when I’m planning to have kids as compared male colleagues, how social norms affect the perception of how I should behave (and what it says about me when I don’t), the postdoc who chats with me not out of scientific but out of sexual interest. Some things I can ignore (like questions about kids), some I can adapt (like how I approach self-promotion), and some I have to deal with (like telling someone his behavior is inappropriate). Having to deal with these sorts of things can really suck, but it’s somehow helpful to know that others have been there and how they’ve responded. For the most part, everyone cannot, will not, and should not respond in exactly the same way, but there’s comfort in knowing that you’re not alone.

We’re not setting out to create a cult of women science bloggers bent on world domination. We’re just looking to some camaraderie, commiseration, and counsel.

* As an aside, I’m one of the #wsb FriendFeed admins, so if there are any issues with RSS feeds aggregated there or you don’t see a blog you think should be there, let me know via comment, email, or Twitter.

Posted in barriers, blogging, women in STEM | Tagged , | 13 Comments