Apparently there is a shoe war going on.  I feel compelled to put my two cents in since I love shoes.  I love shoes so much that I refuse to pick a side, mostly because I actually like all of the shoes of the week, yes, even Dr. Isis's teal plaid pump.  Heels are all well and good, but sometimes I need speed and maneuverability. Flats are good, but there are those occasions when I really need a sneaker.  But who wants to wear a plain old running shoe?  Not me. God knows I don't need them for running, since I avoid doing that.  I need to keep up with a four and a six year old who might be fast, relatively speaking, but since their stride length is so much shorter then mine I don't need any real physical ability to keep up with them.

Since I spent a little while the other day designing my own shoe,  I thought I'd share my creation.  It's simple with just a bit of flash; and so what if it is a zebra print?  Is there something wrong with that?  Plus, I love the white racing stripe down the sidewall. And then there is this: remember back in junior high when you wore your shoes without laces?  Well, these shoes are meant to be worn that way.  Plus, it is just too darn cool that you can design your own.  So without any further preamble, here it is:

As I mentioned recently, I now have an office at work. I was debating how much time I would spend there, instead of at home in my more convenient home office. I do have to show up occasionally at work, so in the last few days I have begun to personalize my work space. As a result, I have realized that I enjoy being at "the office". However, in this short amount of time, I have already noticed a few things about sharing an office space.

On talking:

• Some chatter is OK, but when people are obviously trying to get work done, please stop talking at them.
  
• When I am grading papers and things are not looking good, I get grumpy and complain and make other noises; grunts, sighs of despair, curses, and the like. I have to tone this down when surrounded by other people who might be trying to focus instead of listen to me complain.
  
• It is not appropriate to start commiserating about the general laziness and poor concentration of your students when a third person is trying to counsel… a student. We do not need witnesses to our bad mouthing.
  

On food and drink:

• Hey, I have no problem with people eating and drinking in the office. I do it too. But when random people from within the building come to use our microwave, disrupting our work and leaving behind the fragrance of whatever lunch they were warming up, it is annoying.
  
• Please do not steal my coke. I have put my name on it, because it belongs to me. I might need that caffeine soon.
  
• Would it be inappropriate to bring in some wine, to help get me through this pile of papers I am grading? I'll share, if you'd like…
  

On environment:

• We have absolutely no control over the climate. It was 40 degrees today, and raining, and we had no heat. My fingers were like little blocks of ice by the time I finally gave up and left. Please don't look at me funny if I am sitting at my desk with my jacket and ski hat on.
  
• Please be considerate when decorating your space. The posters on the wall are behind you; I am the one facing them all the time.
  
• Ask if you want to play music. I usually don't mind, but some people do. Plus, just because country music helps you think, doesn't mean it does good things for my thought process- it is either depressing or makes me want to get up and line dance. And forget about trying to discuss technical protocols with my students- who barely talk above a whisper to begin with- if loud music is playing in the background.
  

One thing I have noticed is that somehow everyone else scored a computer. My next project- now that I have an office- is to get it equipped. I have sent an email out to determine the probabilities of rating a computer. Yes, I have my laptop, but it is the point. I shouldn't have to provide my own computer, should I?

Last night, I had to sit in a crowded chapel, surrounded by friends, colleagues, and teachers, and listen as my PhD advisor gave a eulogy about one of his current graduate students.

I have listened to him speak at many occasions.  There are the professional events, of course:  meetings, seminars, dissertation defenses and the like.  There are the social events:  he has seen many of his lab through weddings and births.  I just never imagined him presiding over a memorial.  As I listened to him speak in such glowing terms about this student I was touched by how much of a measure of a persons character it is to be able to rise to such an occasion and meet it with such dignity and courage.  As he shared some thoughtful stories about his student, I remembered back to my years in his lab.  The traditions that have become established started with the first of us, and I was happy to know that they continue.  The spaces that I walked are now occupied by a new group, yet I was among the first. The experiments that are being done now developed out of work that started when I was one of just a few in a new, small but growing research lab. For a little while last night I once again felt myself to be part of this growing yet close knit community. 

When I moved on to my post doc lab, I didn't move far:  across the street and up a floor.  Yet, in an effort to look forward, I tried to distance myself a little from my graduate lab, and over the years that distance has seemed to grow.  As I reconnected with everyone I realized that my 'distance' is only imaginary and that you never really leave. I realized that I may have moved on, but I left behind a part of me; a small legacy.  I was humbled.  I was proud.  I was filled with nostalgia, and I was filled with a desire to work harder; to strive for greater successes. 

Perhaps that is the measure of a good advisor.  Even in the face of tragedy he has made me feel welcome, he has made me feel worthy, and he has motivated me to move forward. And I am reminded of why I 'do' science:  to find something new, yes; to 'make the world better', yes; and to leave a little of myself behind. 
Every time someone references one my publications, I know I have succeeded. And so, every time I author a paper, I will do so in honor of those who taught me.  I will do do in honor of those who follow me. I will do so in memory of those who are now silent, but always present.

It's a room slightly larger then my home office. It is equipped with 7 desks, 14 chairs, a single file cabinet, dorm size fridge, and microwave. One of the 7 desks is fully occupied by a busy 'part' time professor; two of the others have lonely "In" boxes and one of them has an empty vase sitting depressingly right in the middle of it. Despite the air of neglect, the desks have been claimed; I didn't hasten to claim mine and ended up with one of the less desirable: right near the door. The door has various notes with "Prof. so and so's Office hours" taped to it, and supposedly can be opened with my new key- although I haven't yet tried.

I have always wanted one, and now I have it: my own office. Quite clearly, it is not my OWN office, because I have to share; but it is MY office in the sense that no one uses that desk but me.

Yes, no one uses that desk but me: and now that I have one, I have to use it. I was instructed to start holding regular office hours. The downfall of getting what you wished for, is all the string that are attached.

I have a very nice home office. The question becomes: do I really want to spend all my time in my work office? A few hours here and there are required; probably will be useful, my students do need me. But how much effort should I invest in setting up a comfortable work space?

Yesterday was my first official Office Hours. I did get visits from three of my students, and got a stack of papers graded. Even more importantly, though, I met a few faculty that I had heard of by name only, before; one of them seems like she will be a good friend; I conferenced with another regarding my difficulties with my current class. She apparently had the same problems in previous years- (phew, it isn't me after all). And I met a few other part timers from other departments. What this means is that I am no longer on the fringe; I am taking my first baby steps right into the middle of it all.

For that reason, I think I should utilize the work office more. Put up a photo; get my own "In" box, and put something in it; perhaps get a desk lamp. But… like Dorothy said, "There's no place like home." Where am I now? My home office. Where will I be most of the time? My home office. The cat is on my lap, my coffee is hot, and I can fold laundry in between grading papers and putting together lectures.

I gave two extra credit questions on my 15 point quiz yesterday:

1. (2 pts) Who won the Nobel Prize for Medicine this year?
   
2. (2 pts) Why did they win?
   

I got only two responses. Neither were correct.

It never turns out well.

I went in to SLU yesterday to check on my students plates, and, if everything looked as well as I expected, to take the first timepoint.

Stop right there and review that last sentence. Do you see what my mistake was? You might say it was "going in to SLU yesterday". You might say "doing the timepoints for the students". I wouldn't necessarily disagree. But the real mistake was that I expected everything to look good.

Things did not look good. They looked quite bad. One after the other I found contamination, plates that weren't labeled, plates that didn't appear to have anything in them… so after I ended up throwing out ¾ of the plates, I began to wonder: are they all really not getting it? Or… is it me? I mean, I knew some of them were having difficulty, but I though some were OK.  But the evidence was to the contrary. As I see it, there are three possibilities:

1. I am a bad teacher.
2. My students are not coming to class prepared.
3. The experiment is flawed.

Let's work through each possibility:

1. I am a bad teacher. According to my TA I'm going over and above what has been done in previous semesters. I give my students detailed protocols; I describe visually the protocol; and I demonstrate for them how to do it. I am covering all different learning styles. Plus, I've gotten positive reviews from other classes I've taught and student I've mentored. That still doesn't necessarily rule out this possibility, but it does seem to indicate that the shortages aren't on my end.

2. My students are not coming to class prepared. Well, that is true. I am racking my brain to come up with a way to combat this particular problem, and would welcome any suggestions. However, even so, once they get to class they have everything they need to complete the experiment, so while this fact is annoying it shouldn't necessarily result in such a catastrophe of having to discard 75% of the work.

3. The experiment is flawed. I know it isn't inherently flawed because it has been done before, successfully. However, I haven't done it recently, and I haven't done it at SLU, so perhaps this possibility should be explored further. I decided to take some cells from my TA and set up the experiment myself- just to make sure that it could be done. My TA kept protesting that she would do it, but you know the saying… if you want it done right, do it yourself.

I would have preferred to start from scratch, but I didn't have time to make media. So I took her media and filtered it, and went to get all the dishes and supplies I needed. It was actually a useful learning experience for me, since I had never personally used the TC facilities at SLU, having imported all my cells from MRU where I do my research, and handing them directly to the TA who has been maintaining them since. So I'm gathering all the supplies, and that is when I noticed that the 12 well plates that the class had used for the growth curves were collagen coated. F*** f*** f*** f*** f***. I don't know for sure, having never actually directly compared, but I have a feeling that this is perhaps some of the reason the cells are not growing well and do not look right. I am extremely angry about this for several reasons.

>It will, no matter what, screw up the results. Hopefully not badly enough that my class won't still learn something.
>My TA didn't notice, when I asked her to find 12 well TC plates, that the box was labeled, in big letters, "COLLAGEN". Or, perhaps, she didn't realize it was important.
>I didn't notice it during class, when everyone was plating their cells.
>I'm not sure if I should be mad at myself- for not specifically checking to make sure these were the correct plates. But really, who would think that there would be collagen coated plates, and not plain old TC plates, in the supply closet? SLU has not much money, and I would never expect them to have the more expensive plates just laying around up for grabs.

At the end of the day, it is nobody's fault but my own. I have relied too heavily on my TA, and on protocols supplied to me by past-professors of the course. It is good that I am in there, getting my hands dirty, so to speak. I am turning over a new leaf. It took a Sunday visit to the lab for me to realize just how bad things were, but the semester is still young.

I took five years off after graduating college. Well, that is a misleading statement; it wasn't like I was doing anything fun or wild or irresponsible. I worked for half that time as a research assistant, trying to decide if I liked it enough to pursue a PhD or MD; and the other half I spent working in the family business.

Interestingly enough, it wasn't my time in science that convinced me that I wanted to be a scientist; it was my time away from it. I actually missed it. And so even though I had gotten out, I had made my escape… I found myself begging graduate schools to "please take me back!" At first, when they did, I felt smug: I was older and wiser then my classmates and therefore more confident (arrogant?). But as the years have passed I have begun to wonder… what if I hadn't come back? And, did I ever really leave? Did I ever really allow myself the possibility of pursuing a different path?

The honest answer is… no. Ever since I was five and I declared to my uncle that I was going to find a cure for cancer, I have been working towards that goal. It sounds cliché, but it is the truth. My path was always laid out in front of me, and even when I supposedly "took time" to "find myself", all I really did was find a detour that led me straight back to where I'd started… just a few years behind.

Now I find myself faced with a new fork in the road. I am looking for tenure track faculty positions, yes, but I am looking at places that are not research institutions. I am looking at places where my primary responsibility is not to do research, but to teach. GASP! To many of my classmates and colleagues- and, even more accurately (ironically enough), to many of my own teachers- this might seem like I am settling. That I am not realizing my full potential. That I am giving up. But, given the chance to find my own path before and not taking it, I realize now that there are still so many forks in the road, and I have to go in the direction that will lead to my own sense of fulfillment.

So I continue to move forward. I like what I am doing, I do. But… I still wonder. What if I had started college as an "undecided"? Where would I be today? And I realize that as much as I want to train good scientists, the one thing I really hope to teach all my students is… to explore all the possibilities.