So this morning both Husband and I had to go to lab. He had some pretty labor intensive things to do, while I mostly had to just shuffle some stuff around, start a couple of cultures... easy stuff. So I dropped Husband off at his lab and then Bean and I drove on over to my lab.
Now, I work at a University, so of course parking on campus is ridiculously expensive and I don't have a parking permit. And since the University is obnoxious, you can't even park there on weekdays until after 9:00 p.m., and on the weekends you can't park without a permit until after noon. Well, I like to get my lab work early, so I will usually pay for street parking near lab, or if that's not available, park illegally on campus.
Well, when I show up to lab with Bean in tow, there's parking enforcement dutifully ticketing all the suckers... I mean scientists, who are there working on the weekend. I mean, it's pretty obvious that the people who are parking there are people coming to WORK FOR THE UNIVERSITY. Nonetheless, the University sends out parking enforcement to ticket its own employees for coming in to work.
Anyway, so I decide not to park illegally, and instead I find some pay parking a few blocks away from lab and since Bean is now asleep in her car seat, I have to lug 20+ pounds of car-seated baby back to lab. My lab work is non-eventful, and I lug Bean back to the car. I pass the parking guy who is still ticketing other cars.
Once I get back to my car, I put Bean's seat in the back, pull down my parking sticker, and turn on the car. Before I actually pull away from the curb, I look down at my iPod and start scrolling through to find some new music. Just as I settle on the Magnetic Fields, there's a rapping sound at my window. I look up to see the parking guy waving his ticket-writing-thing-a-ma-jig at me.
I pulled the parking sticker back out to show him that I did in fact pay for parking, but he doesn't leave until I actually re-post it in my window so that he can see that I still have 6 minutes left on the sticker. Then he moves on to the car in front of me to ticket them.
The baby is in the back seat, I'm in the front, the car is running, and I am clearly just finding something on my iPod, and yet the guy was going to issue me a ticket!
And that's our reward for working on the weekends. A parking ticket.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Asleep at the wheel
Last night I had a series of horrible nightmares. Or rather, one nightmare that continued every time I fell asleep, no matter how many times I woke up in a cold sweat. In brief, this nightmare involved watching a 9/11-type happen in my city catastrophe in my city, and then trying desperately to make it the 15 or so miles to Bean's daycare on foot through a progressively deteriorating city. Very Mad Max.
Bean, on the other hand, slept all the way through the night for the first time ever!
This morning I literally fell asleep on the couch while eating my breakfast. I closed by eyes (just for a second!) while I was chewing, and.... luckily I was awakened a few minutes later by Pup who had noticed I was asleep and got up on the couch to try to steal my cereal. Luckily for me, Pup is not very sneaky.
Bean, on the other hand, slept all the way through the night for the first time ever!
This morning I literally fell asleep on the couch while eating my breakfast. I closed by eyes (just for a second!) while I was chewing, and.... luckily I was awakened a few minutes later by Pup who had noticed I was asleep and got up on the couch to try to steal my cereal. Luckily for me, Pup is not very sneaky.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Things other than poop
So tonight, as part of my campaign to talk about things other than poop, I had dinner with an invited seminar speaker and a small group of other postdocs. The seminar speaker is an amazing scientist from Stanford. She had lots of great stories, including one about serving as a scientific advisor to Clinton and addressing Clinton and his cabinet about genetic engineering. She is dynamic and passionate and incredibly smart. The kind of scientist we should all strive to be like.
I, on the other hand, was the dumbest person at the table. But that's another post entirely.
When the speaker mentioned that she has 3 children, I asked her how she had balanced the demands of her family with the intense demands of getting tenure. She replied that she had succeeded by never feeling guilty: when she was in the lab, she didn't feel guilty about not being with her kids. When she was at home, she didn't feel guilty about not being in lab. And that allowed her to focus on whatever she was doing and really engage.
Good advice, I thought.
"Oh," she added, "and it helped that I had a full-time, live-in nanny for 23 years."
I, on the other hand, was the dumbest person at the table. But that's another post entirely.
When the speaker mentioned that she has 3 children, I asked her how she had balanced the demands of her family with the intense demands of getting tenure. She replied that she had succeeded by never feeling guilty: when she was in the lab, she didn't feel guilty about not being with her kids. When she was at home, she didn't feel guilty about not being in lab. And that allowed her to focus on whatever she was doing and really engage.
Good advice, I thought.
"Oh," she added, "and it helped that I had a full-time, live-in nanny for 23 years."
Friday, October 5, 2007
Imposter
A few years ago I was talking to a dear friend of mine about how I didn't think I could be successful as a scientist. "I'm not smart enough," I whined. "I just fake it, and hope no one notices how stupid I am. I could never fake it well enough to be a PI."
The voices in my head tell me that I only got into grad school because I'm good at taking standardized tests. And I only got good grades as an undergraduate because my college wasn't rigorous. I only got internships because I got lucky. I only did well in my undergraduate research lab because I had good people training me. I only passed my general exam in grad school because my committee decided to go easy on me.
My friend, a fellow graduate student, shook me with the sterness of her response. "You're being ridiculous. Have you ever heard of imposter syndrome?" I had not (more evidence that I am dumb?).
Imposter syndrome, identified in 1978, is a destructive mode of thinking, afflicting primarily high-acheiving women. Women with imposter syndrome have the persistent belief that they are phonies, or fakes, despite high-level academic and professional accomplishements. These women believe that they are not bright and think that they have fooled anyone who thinks otherwise. They often experience generalized anxiety and depression because they are afraid that one day they will be "found out" or that they can never live up to the expectations they have tricked others into having.
While the imposter phenomenon has not been exhaustively studied, there has been considerable work looking at the differences between men and women when it comes to the differential attribution of success between the sexes. While men tend to attribute successes to their ability, women tend to attribute successes to external or temporary factors (such as luck or extreme effort) which mitigate their inherent inability. When it comes to failures, men tend to attribute their failures to such temporary factors ("I didn't study for this exam") or task difficulty, while women tend to attribute failures to their lack of ability. This type of thinking is thought to play heavily into the imposter phenomenon.
When I first read about the imposter phenomenon, it actually made me feel a little better that I wasn't the only person who couldn't seem to feel good about any of her accomplishments. Of course, like anyone I get some temporary joy when I perform well, but mostly that feeling isn't one of pride... more a feeling of relief... I dodged another bullet, pulled off another trick.
The voice of doubt is there pretty much constantly. It's there when I'm interpreting my data... I never seem to feel like my data is trustworthy. I repeat experiments over and over again because I don't believe they will be reproducible. My grad work is published, but I don't speak about it with pride because I seem to be waiting for someone to disprove it.
When an experiment fails, I often try to avoid seeing my boss. I'm afraid that if I have to tell her something didn't work, it's because I'm a horrible scientist and I should be ashamed (because, apparently I am the ONLY scientist in the world whose experiments sometimes fail). That's the main reason I'm often unhappy working at the bench. I can not take a failed experiment or a negative result in stride... it's always further evidence of my incompetence.
When I recently got funded, I celebrated out of relief that I wouldn't have to write again, not because I felt like I had done well. And I started to tell myself that the reason I got funded was because I look good on paper, not because I am competent.
Talking to other female grad students and postdocs, I hear the same thing from women that I would give my left nut to be like. What is it about academia that women can't seem to be confident in their successes? Have we internalized the societal bias that women aren't smart enough to be academics? Are intelligent women really so rare that we can't possibly be among them?
I can believe someone if they tell me I'm a good cook. I can believe someone if they tell me I'm a good mother. I can even believe someone if they tell me I'm fun to be around. But I can't ever seem to quiet the negative backtalk when it comes to my intelligence.
Damn it.
The voices in my head tell me that I only got into grad school because I'm good at taking standardized tests. And I only got good grades as an undergraduate because my college wasn't rigorous. I only got internships because I got lucky. I only did well in my undergraduate research lab because I had good people training me. I only passed my general exam in grad school because my committee decided to go easy on me.
My friend, a fellow graduate student, shook me with the sterness of her response. "You're being ridiculous. Have you ever heard of imposter syndrome?" I had not (more evidence that I am dumb?).
Imposter syndrome, identified in 1978, is a destructive mode of thinking, afflicting primarily high-acheiving women. Women with imposter syndrome have the persistent belief that they are phonies, or fakes, despite high-level academic and professional accomplishements. These women believe that they are not bright and think that they have fooled anyone who thinks otherwise. They often experience generalized anxiety and depression because they are afraid that one day they will be "found out" or that they can never live up to the expectations they have tricked others into having.
While the imposter phenomenon has not been exhaustively studied, there has been considerable work looking at the differences between men and women when it comes to the differential attribution of success between the sexes. While men tend to attribute successes to their ability, women tend to attribute successes to external or temporary factors (such as luck or extreme effort) which mitigate their inherent inability. When it comes to failures, men tend to attribute their failures to such temporary factors ("I didn't study for this exam") or task difficulty, while women tend to attribute failures to their lack of ability. This type of thinking is thought to play heavily into the imposter phenomenon.
When I first read about the imposter phenomenon, it actually made me feel a little better that I wasn't the only person who couldn't seem to feel good about any of her accomplishments. Of course, like anyone I get some temporary joy when I perform well, but mostly that feeling isn't one of pride... more a feeling of relief... I dodged another bullet, pulled off another trick.
The voice of doubt is there pretty much constantly. It's there when I'm interpreting my data... I never seem to feel like my data is trustworthy. I repeat experiments over and over again because I don't believe they will be reproducible. My grad work is published, but I don't speak about it with pride because I seem to be waiting for someone to disprove it.
When an experiment fails, I often try to avoid seeing my boss. I'm afraid that if I have to tell her something didn't work, it's because I'm a horrible scientist and I should be ashamed (because, apparently I am the ONLY scientist in the world whose experiments sometimes fail). That's the main reason I'm often unhappy working at the bench. I can not take a failed experiment or a negative result in stride... it's always further evidence of my incompetence.
When I recently got funded, I celebrated out of relief that I wouldn't have to write again, not because I felt like I had done well. And I started to tell myself that the reason I got funded was because I look good on paper, not because I am competent.
Talking to other female grad students and postdocs, I hear the same thing from women that I would give my left nut to be like. What is it about academia that women can't seem to be confident in their successes? Have we internalized the societal bias that women aren't smart enough to be academics? Are intelligent women really so rare that we can't possibly be among them?
I can believe someone if they tell me I'm a good cook. I can believe someone if they tell me I'm a good mother. I can even believe someone if they tell me I'm fun to be around. But I can't ever seem to quiet the negative backtalk when it comes to my intelligence.
Damn it.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Mirror, mirror
So yesterday morning I was getting ready for work. Bean was awake and Husband was holding her up to look in the bathroom mirror while I was brushing my hair. Husband pointed to the mirror and said "There's your pretty mommy, Bean" and I replied with some snarky comment about my post-partum body that does not bear repeating.
Husband reacted quickly. He said that he didn't want me saying negative things about myself in general, but especially to Bean. Though she is too young to understand it now, it won't be long before she'll understand him when he says the words say the word "pretty" and "mama" and see my pained grimace in response.
This exchange, in which Husband is totally on the side of Good (with a capital G), renewed my fears about raising a daughter.
Let me say first that I know there are definitely strong pressures on boys to be fairly lean and to conform to an image of physical strength. Boys have body image issues too, and they are (increasingly, in my opinion) subject to pressure from visual media of all kinds to be attractive.
But for girls, the beauty ideal is so much more narrowly defined and so tied to our (apparent) value as human beings. Just watching TV for 5 minutes, or flipping briefly through a magazine (even one that's not devoted to beauty... my Cooking Light magazine is just as guilty) and the women you see are young, very slim, white, and well-off. The only time you see a woman over 50 is in an add for an anti-aging cream, and the only time you see a large woman (or even a normal sized-woman) is as a foil for the "beautiful" women. While men can fall within a relatively large window of body weights and muscle tone and be considered attractive, women are under constant pressure to be smaller, slimmer, and bonier.
I sat down last week to watch one of my favorite shows and was distressed to see that one of the actresses, who was already VERY skinny, had lost even more weight since last season, making her ribcage stick out even more, and the outifts she wore during the show were designed to show it off.
I cringe when I think of sweet little Bean who will someday be deluged with these images of beauty, no matter how hard I try to filter them out. Even if I continue to be sure that Bean is not watching TV, she will see magazine covers and billboards, and she will get it through her interactions with her friends.
She will also, most likely, be picking up negative cues from me. I've struggled with a very negative body image and very low self-esteem for a long time. I've had struggles with food issues since I was in high school. I know that my struggles with food, weight, and body image can be toxic for the people around me, my friends and loved ones. And I haven't made peace with myself or my body yet.
I need to find a way to be a positive role model for Bean when it comes to building a positive body image and good self-esteem. While I know that I can't shield Bean from facing the issues surrounding body image and beauty in our culture, I need to help her develop positive self-esteem so that when she is confronted with images of the beauty ideal, with negative comments among her peer group, she can maintain a healthy outlook and be strong in the face of negative pressure. And part of helping her develop a grounded sense of self-esteem is to take the focus off physical appearance and weight.
And I think it starts with me.
Husband reacted quickly. He said that he didn't want me saying negative things about myself in general, but especially to Bean. Though she is too young to understand it now, it won't be long before she'll understand him when he says the words say the word "pretty" and "mama" and see my pained grimace in response.
This exchange, in which Husband is totally on the side of Good (with a capital G), renewed my fears about raising a daughter.
Let me say first that I know there are definitely strong pressures on boys to be fairly lean and to conform to an image of physical strength. Boys have body image issues too, and they are (increasingly, in my opinion) subject to pressure from visual media of all kinds to be attractive.
But for girls, the beauty ideal is so much more narrowly defined and so tied to our (apparent) value as human beings. Just watching TV for 5 minutes, or flipping briefly through a magazine (even one that's not devoted to beauty... my Cooking Light magazine is just as guilty) and the women you see are young, very slim, white, and well-off. The only time you see a woman over 50 is in an add for an anti-aging cream, and the only time you see a large woman (or even a normal sized-woman) is as a foil for the "beautiful" women. While men can fall within a relatively large window of body weights and muscle tone and be considered attractive, women are under constant pressure to be smaller, slimmer, and bonier.
I sat down last week to watch one of my favorite shows and was distressed to see that one of the actresses, who was already VERY skinny, had lost even more weight since last season, making her ribcage stick out even more, and the outifts she wore during the show were designed to show it off.
I cringe when I think of sweet little Bean who will someday be deluged with these images of beauty, no matter how hard I try to filter them out. Even if I continue to be sure that Bean is not watching TV, she will see magazine covers and billboards, and she will get it through her interactions with her friends.
She will also, most likely, be picking up negative cues from me. I've struggled with a very negative body image and very low self-esteem for a long time. I've had struggles with food issues since I was in high school. I know that my struggles with food, weight, and body image can be toxic for the people around me, my friends and loved ones. And I haven't made peace with myself or my body yet.
I need to find a way to be a positive role model for Bean when it comes to building a positive body image and good self-esteem. While I know that I can't shield Bean from facing the issues surrounding body image and beauty in our culture, I need to help her develop positive self-esteem so that when she is confronted with images of the beauty ideal, with negative comments among her peer group, she can maintain a healthy outlook and be strong in the face of negative pressure. And part of helping her develop a grounded sense of self-esteem is to take the focus off physical appearance and weight.
And I think it starts with me.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Feeling mostly better
Well, we made it through the weekend. Of course Husband and I both caught Bean's cold, but we healed a lot more quickly than she did. Bean's fever finally broke on Saturday night, and though Bean is still rather snotty, she went back to school yesterday. Apparently 5 of the other infants and one of the teachers also caught this particular cold. Good times.
So last night, after 5 nights in my arms, Bean went back to sleep in her crib. It went relatively smoothly, but I think I need to WD-40 the hinges on her door so that I can check to make sure she's still breathing as often as I want to without causing her to stir...
It's extremely stormy here now. Summer is over. I made pumpkin bread last night to celebrate the arrival of fall.
So last night, after 5 nights in my arms, Bean went back to sleep in her crib. It went relatively smoothly, but I think I need to WD-40 the hinges on her door so that I can check to make sure she's still breathing as often as I want to without causing her to stir...
It's extremely stormy here now. Summer is over. I made pumpkin bread last night to celebrate the arrival of fall.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)