Maturation and Graduate School

I have thought extensively of last about what constitutes a person's "growth" during graduate school. If you have read any of my previous posts, you would imagine that a certain degree of cynicism is inevitable; frustration with experiments either working or not; and unique to the MD/PhD course, trying to remain faithful to the clinical aspects of our careers remains both a priority and dilemma. These are fairly concrete issues that have arisen, and their answers tend to be straightforward: work through the difficulty with experiments (adapt, invent, etc), accept cynicism but don't let it be your downfall, and try try try to get into the clinic once in a while (even if all the forces that be seem diametrically opposed to you in that quest).

I think there is something deeper that graduate research and training does, however. In my estimation, there are several areas in which the maturation we undergo in graduate school manifests.

If we consider the format of graduate training - let's say under the broad umbrella of any of the biomedical sciences - it's the first time in our lives (save for those who took any significant time off from school) that we have significant freedoms. Our schedule (save for a couple of classes) has very little structure. Our work day does not begin at 9 am or end at 5 pm. We don't have "required sessions," "small groups," "doctoring meetings," "preceptorships," "labs"; In many cases, we can take off from lab at a moment's notice if something comes up. We can work very hard or not at all. It really is up to each of us. This is quite a departure from the first two years of medical school as well as from undergraduate years. I'm not saying that during those periods there weren't different levels of engagement or attention (certainly there's a huge spectrum in college, and to a lesser degree medical school), but much of the responsibility and potential successes associated seemed built into the system. Rarely would a person finish undergraduate training early, and certainly not with medical school. And showing up for and doing well on exams (given at specified, pre-planned times) reflects on doing an appropriate amount of work in the time alloted. Graduate school, while having all the same features, seems wide open. Each day in lab - though part of a quest for finding and/or executing a thesis project - can be spent pushing the limit withe experiments; going just one more hour, finding time for one more set of experiments, staying a little later to make sure cells will be ready for the next day of work. As I have begun to find out, a willingness to "push harder" does make a difference. It takes a project from its very nascent stages to being well-developed and sufficient for a thesis. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this happens in one "magical" day, but if you pile on enough "push" days, progress is inevitable.

While the desire, and the willingness, to push hard - beyond fatigue, frustration, and failure - is certainly one of the pillars of graduate training, another important aspect that is unique to the training emerges. Many students who enter graduate science programs (and this is certainly the case with MD/PhD-MSTP training environments) have already developed an ability to execute experiments, analyze data, and write-up their results. Obviously, improving on this basic skill set becomes an essential component, but the next major hurdle is one I term to be Full Synthesis. In graduate school - if the training and product that results are satisfactory - then the ultimate goal is to be able to understand where research is at the present, propose a series of experiments, experimentally execute them, and then effectively interpret the results and propose new directions. Getting to this point, I think, is one of the most difficult leaps to make in all of our training; and while certainly we may not be proposing Nobel Prize-winning research in our first attempt at Full Synthesis, we can at least be faithful to the effort. I still struggle mightily with this, because the desire to piggy-back on the ideas of others or search for answers to questions we haven't really asked yet both become traps. I find myself at an interesting cross-roads in this sense. I'm working on a couple of inter-connected projects in the lab, and although I have a firm grasp of the experimental approach I am using and I know a good deal about data analysis, I have yet to really come up with "brilliant" new ideas either for how to analyze the data or craft new experiments to test ever-evolving hypotheses.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not expecting for the goal of Full Synthesis to be achieved anytime soon. I know it is usually one that comes closer to the end (rather than the beginning) of graduate school; but I'm just saying that it builds in this frustrating tease - this notion that there's a level of intellectual engagement with our work, experimental and analytical command of our work, and an ability to see it all come together in the ultimate "Eureka!" moment. Maybe it will never feel like a "Eureka!" moment, and instead it will resemble something more of a "Duh!" Maybe. I don't think it really matters what the emotions are in the moment. What matters, I think, is that we honestly appraise our abilities now and that going forward we be willing to take on new challenges and responsibilities; we must learn (and dare) to "push" and "synthesize."