Grey grey grey, ding!

Fall in Zurich.

Not so much sunlight. Cold and damp.

A good time to put in some halogen bulbs, bring out the fuzzy slippers and pajamas. And start catching up on Project Runway. I finished my dissertation conclusion with a reference to the judges on Project Runway, and how random their advice was each week - you didn't design outside the box enough, you went waaay too far outside the box, not enough color, too much color....These people are not much for standardized, consistent feedback. Granted, by now, 10 years into the show, even I know that you don't use fabric items for the candy challenge. C'mon, designers, have you not watched all the shows before applying?

Motivation can be tough in this weather, too. Especially when you are working alone a lot. So this fall, by lucky accident, the online work date is back in my life. Thanks for happening upon my office on the wrong week for the talk you were looking for, P. When I was finishing my dissertation, E and I would do 45 min. work sessions with a chat window open. We'd state our goals for the time period, (I'm going to wokr on 1., 2., and 3....) and then go work for 45min., with a timer set. Ding! Then we'd check in, by text or video, how the time had gone, take a 5 or 10 minute break, and start again. Sometimes 4 times in a row. It was how I got my dissertation written, even sitting at home. I wouldn't have made it without that peer pressure. So P and I did this on Monday, and it went well. Knowing that someone else is also working, having to write down your goals, all those things that don't happen when surfing the web in search of motivation, that is what makes it so powerful.

A photo of a small town in Missouri. Nothing to do with the post, except for all that grey. 

And my favorite quote from that time - that writing leads to motivation, not the other way around. It is part of why I keep this blog. Because some days, if I can just get writing, even about a topic as boring as Zurich weather, it gets me writing, and then I'm off the couch, looking for my socks and boots, and on my way to work.

The alumni newsletter just came in! Great.

I just finished filling out an online survey for a Prestigious Graduate School Fellowship I once received, back when I was in Astronomy (about 1500 years ago). It dropped me right smack down in the middle of all the mixed (okay, mostly bad, actually) emotions I had every time I got my yearly "What kind of cancer have you cured this year?" call from the head of a different Pretigious Graduate School Fellowship program. Let's say that I started off my university life as a pretty prestigious kind of student. I studies physics and math and astronomy and I did really well in homeworks and exams. I did research projects and went to conferences and even taught some lectures as an undergrad. I got into all the grad schools I applied for, and I didn't set the bar low. 

And at the end of 9 years in astronomy grad school, I quit. Dejected, depressed, no publications to my name, very little belief in myself. Single. Childless. (Although, I was going to be married soon, which was one of the very few points of light in my days back then). But every year since I'd spent a year at Cambridge, I'd get a call to see what glorious accomplishments I'd racked up. My fellow Fellows had gotten early tenure and professorships, some at Harvard or Princeton. They had research groups and I had a cat with kidney failure that I treated with subcutaneous fluids each day, I small house my mom had been smart enough to encourage me to buy in super-cheap Tucson, and a surprising hidden talent as a swing dance teacher.  These yearly calls made me feel so low, so unaccomplished. 

And let's face it, the alumni updates from, well pretty much anywhere I had attended, were depressing. So, in honor of not having started crying filling out this online survey just now while marking "extremely poor" on a number of aspect of my grad experience, I've decided to put up my own alumni update. 

Or rather, two of them. Because, in the intervening years I've learned that everyone has their pain and failures, even the early tenure at Harvard folks, and that some are just better at masking it, or have it in more private aspects of their life.

Almuni update that makes me feel good about myself

 

"A" received both an NSF Graduate Fellowship and a Churchill Scholarship after graduating with a 4.0 GPA in Astronomy and Physics. She went on to get master's degrees in astronomy from both Cambridge University and the University of Arizona. While completing a PhD in science education, she was asked to talk about her research on the culture of communication in academia at locations as varied as IBM and Harvard, and internationally. She and her husband, daughter and beloved dog currently live in Zurich, Switzerland, where she works part time in academia and concentrates the rest of her time on raising her daughter in Lithuanian (her parent's first language), English and Swiss German. They have been enjoying traveling across Europe especially this summer - to Rhodes, Amsterdam, Torino, Istanbul and Stockholm. Also, she has recently decided just to love her 6 foot tall frame as it is and give up on worrying about fashion trends, instead following her creative instincts.

But really, wouldn't we all prefer the kind of alumni update that made the rest of us feel better about ourselves?

Alumni update that should make you feel better about yourself.

"A" did really well in college, on paper,  and managed to come away with a fairly bad grasp of physics. She rode the good GPA wave to a few fellowships, but wound up not publishing anything she felt she had made an intellectual contribution to in her 9 years as an astronomy graduate student. And as for the papers she made no intellectual contribution to, there was one. She spent many days, after her coursework was done, not getting anywhere in her research, and at least half of those not having the heart to even try. She developed a great eye for vintage clothing and jewelry that she managed to sell for a spell on eBay. She felt she slipped farther behind her peers, until she realized she was clinically depressed and quit her program. After picking a research topic in education that she had no topic-specific mentors for,  she defended her dissertation and left Tucson. Her husband got a job in Switzerland where part of the stipulation was that she get a part time, temporary job. The birth of her daughter ended in an unplanned C-section and her daughter woke up 12 times a night for 6 months. "A" was in a hopsital for a month, returned to antidepressants, and used daycare and a babysitter to help her survive the first 1.5 years of her daughter's life, even though she wasn't back to  work. She's been through a lot of counseling in the last 8 years. Recently, she had a miscarriage, so to try to make the best of not being pregnant or getting pregnant again for a while, she convinced her family to go on too many trips across Europe this summer. In between trips, she was often in bed and unable to even use a laptop, due to a ruptured disc in her lower back. And somehow strangely connected to this disc, she can no longer wear jeans or any other slim fitting pants.

Don't tell your kids they are smart

When we were back in the US for Christmas break, I picked up a book co-written by an author I like, Nurture Shock . Po Bronson had written a book about changing careers, "What Should I Do With My Life?", full of stories about people who had made huge career changes. It came at just the right time for me, as I was getting up the nerve to quit astronomy. I remember only a few things about the book (as I do with most of what I read), that I liked it, and that almost all the people in the book were forced to change careers. No one calmly sat down and wrote a list of pros and cons of being a day trader and decided it was healthier to follow their dreams of running a diner. Everyone went through a crisis - a divorce, a death in the family, a stroke or heart attack, a paralyzing depression - and this pretty much catapulted them in a new career. They could no longer do what they had been doing before. It made me realize I didn't have to be ashamed that it "took me so long to quit." Unfortunately, my will was strong enough to get me through 5 unproductive, unhappy graduate school years before a major depression hit and I couldn't continue. But that book showed me that this is the natural order of how big career changes happen to a lot of people.

Anyway, apart from recommending that book, I wanted to talk about the more recent book, Nurture Shock. It is a collection of chapters on child development, and the first chapter lands right in the middle of some of the literature I was reading for my dissertation. On praise and intelligence. The first chapter talks mostly about Carol Dweck's research on the perils of praising kids (and I extended that to adults) for their success as an outcome of being smart. Saying "good job! you're so smart" actually seems to set kids up for trouble. They start to worry that they won't be smart enough for the next task they approach and being to avoid challenges. I think of it as hearing "Each person is some fixed amount of smart. If you were smarter than this math test, the next math test could be smarter than you, and people will know you were not smart enough to pass it. You should hide how smart you are and avoid challenges because it is good to be smarter than others and bad to be less smart."

I'm not even going to get into the concept of intelligence today, but the results of Dweck's research suggest we should praise achievement by attributing it to effort - "Good job! You must have tried hard on that test." This encouraged the children in her studies to see challenges (and trying hard) as a good, fun thing. They enjoyed harder tests, even when they didn't do that well on them. In contrast, the kids who had been praised for smarts tended to try hiding any effort they had to expend.

We say "good job!" a lot around the house these days. And whenever I can, I add in something about effort. I think there is a lot to be learned from this research that applies to the culture of academia, but I'll leave that for another day.

"The American Way of Life"

On the homestretch to writing my thesis, E was my writing partner. We'd meet online, with chat windows open, fill each other in on what we were about to work on, set our Zen-bell alarm clocks and work for 45 minutes.

Ding!

We would take a 5-10 minute break, either go get some coffee in our respective kitchens, or do a debriefing on how our work had gone and anything that had been problematic.

Then the alarm programs would be reset and Ding! another 45 minutes.

Sometimes we did just one or two sessions, but other days, when there was a looming deadline, it would be 5 or 6 sessions. It was the only way I got so much done in such a contracted period of time.

And I think it worked so well because of a quote that E brought to one of our sessions..."Writing leads to motivation, not the other way around." It was that first 5 minutes of the first 45 minute session which were the hardest.

So here I am, trying to put this into practice again. I'm still ramping up to get back to work after a month of debilitating back problems, but I really want to get back to producing something from my dissertation that is accessible (and palatable) to more than just my committee members. I'll try to write about my work a few days a week, but just sitting down to write every day is the best way for me to start again.

Since Mondays need to be slowly settled into whenever possible, I'm aiming for fun photos and light topics. Like the maple syrup bottle at our table at brunch yesterday. M and I had a lunch date, courtesy of our babysitter, and we opted for comfort food, at Bohemia, instead of the anxiety producing exercise of roaming Zurich's old town in search of a menu and ambiance we liked. Pancakes and eggs benedict won.

And on our table was a brand I'd seen already on peanut butter here in the stores. "Nick: the easy rider." That's a brand? Complete with red, white and blue fonts and stars. What we couldn't decide was if it was really ignorance of Americana, or a deliberate aim at kitsching it WAAAAAY up. Or something in between. Did the company know that the branding was weird and at best American-derivative?

Who knows. The pancakes, although outrageously expensive, were pretty good. And on a cold rainy sunday, in a Cuban-ish restaurant/bar, American enough.