What a Difference a Day Makes

In September, I went on a whirlwind trip to Washington DC. I spent a day and a half in my nation's capitol, to visit Congressional offices and talk about the importance medical research. Almost 300 people were part of the Rally for Medical Research, all with the same message: Now is the time for Congress to come together and support the NIH with continued funding for medical research. We had training on how to deliver our message, and a reception with talks by Dr. Francis Collins and Senator Dick Durbin before being unleashed on Capitol Hill to attend our meetings. AAAS was kind enough to facilitate my involvement with this opportunity.

Thirty-six hours in DC, meetings in seven different offices, could that possibly make a difference? I've been asked many times since returning: Did you make a difference? As a graduate student, I have many, possibly naive ideas about making an impact and changing the world. I want help people live better, healthier lives, and leave the world in better shape than I found it. This might be through my own disease-curing research, or it might be by convincing one more member of Congress to sign a bill that supports NIH funding, thereby helping others with their own research.

As a researcher, I think about disease in a very specific way. I think about it mechanistically. I ponder why a mutation in one gene can throw off an entire system. I want to know how and why this happens. Patients with various medical problems also attended the Rally for Medical Research. They think about diseases differently. Patients and their families have to live with a disease. Interacting with someone who has survived a severe brain tumor pulls the science out of the Petri dish and puts it into a person. Interacting with patients and survivors is a stark reminder of the ultimate goal of medical research – to help people. These patients, along with patient advocates, and other researchers were part of our group that spent the day talking to members of Congress about how continued NIH funding is needed.

But can one day of conversations change anything? We spoke with the decision-makers who seem far away, but who directly impact our lives. Our government is made up of individuals, making individual decisions. As a voter, it is my right and my responsibility to let them know which decisions are important to me. One conversation may not change anyone's mind. However, each conversation is part of a larger movement. A small, steady voice can have as much impact as a single loud one. I view this trip as part of a continuing message, and not a single event.

This is why advocacy is important. Legislators have to take into account the views of many constituents. If one group don't speak up about an issue that matters to them, a different group will. The onus is on the voter to let their views be known. Washington DC is a fast-paced town, and issues can quickly be forgotten. We need to remind Congress which issues matter to us.

So did a day make a difference? It did for me, and I hope it does for the future of funding for medical research.

What would you want from a SciComm class?

In the Spring of 2014 I took a class that was required for my program: Workshop on Scientific Communication. While not knowing entirely what to expect, I was still a little disappointed in the content. This one credit, twelve session class was mostly long, text-heavy PowerPoint presentations on how to write papers, what the purpose of an abstract was, how to prepare figures, and similar topics. While these are useful topics, there seemed a lot missing from the class. Many slides were read to us on how to write an abstract, but we never actually wrote an abstract. We were required to do a ten minute oral presentation near the end of the semester, and received some valuable feedback. However, we never got a chance to revise and improve.

I approached the instructor, and asked to TA next time the class was offered. She said the class was a lot of time and effort, and she would love the help. I asked about including some extra topics, and got a very enthusiastic response.

Here are some things I would like to see added:

• Twitter: what it is, and why it can be useful
• Blogs: how they can improve writing
• Science policy: what is it and the importance of communication and advocacy
• Scientists speaking to the lay public: how to do this and why it matters
• More opportunity for feedback: we're often told the importance of good writing, but don't to practice.

And now I open it to you. What would you want to learn from a graduate level class on science communication? What do you wish other people would learn? This class is generally geared toward graduate students, but also attracts medical students, residents, and other people from the medical campus that were intrigued by the title.

What are your thoughts?

What I Study

In my Careers in Scientific Communications class, we were given the writing assignment below. I liked it enough to post my answer here. I would love to see yours too!

Write a short essay (125-175 words) about your lab research or a science topic of your choice. The essay should describe/explain the science so that it is understandable to the non-scientific public.

I study how stem cells make and use energy - stem cell metabolism. I don't use the controversial stem cells that get all the headlines. Instead, I use stem cells from bone marrow, also called mesenchymal stem cells or MSCs. Stem cells have two defining properties that make them stem cells. First, they can make more stem cells, exact replicas of themselves. Secondly, a stem cell has the ability to become a different type of cell. MSCs can become bone, fat, or cartilage. There are two main ways cells make energy. Glycolysis makes a little energy, and doesn't require oxygen. Oxidative phosphorylation does require oxygen, and makes a lot of energy. Stem cells mostly use glycolysis. Bone cells mostly use oxidative phosphorylation. Somewhere along the path from stem cell to bone, the cells switch how they make their energy. If you stop oxidative phosphorylation from happening, you also stop the stem cell from becoming bone. We don't know why or how this switch happens, and that's what I want to find out.

Writing Exercise Turned Publication

I have a writing group. It is awesome. We meet once a month. The day before we meet, we send each other some writing we've been working on. One page limit. We then meet for an hour, and tear apart each piece. It has both improved my writing, and inspired me to write more.

About a week before our June meeting, I was casting about looking for something to write. I had no upcoming abstracts, no manuscripts in process, and no blog posts in the pipeline. Then I got an email from a new student journal that I read about science policy, the Journal of Science Policy & Governance. It was a call for submissions for their upcoming special edition on Healthy Food Policy.

I'm interested in science policy. I think it would look good on my CV to publish in a policy journal. My writing group was in one week, and the submission deadline was the following day.

Challenge accepted.

I spent some time thinking hard about topics, then a week of literature searching and mad writing. Submitted, and to my surprise: accepted.

The editorial team at JSPG is really fantastic. They helped to really polish the piece, and give it better flow. This also helped me realize the importance of writing regularly. Publishing was a bonus, but achieving the goal of actually finishing it was incredibly satisfying.

The article is linked below, and any comments are always appreciated.

http://www.sciencepolicyjournal.org/special-edition-healthy-food-policy.html

Science of Being Happy: Back to Basics as a Coping Mechanism

Life getting to be too much? It was for me. Through the winter of 2012 into 2013, everyday functions were becoming a problem. Getting out of bed, getting to work, and taking care of myself all became insurmountable tasks. I'll spare you the details, but eventually, with time and the help of some wonderful people, I got into a better place.

Every now and then, the darkness comes knock, knock, knocking again; when I haven't slept well in days, when stress from grad school get overwhelming. There is one thought exercise that pulls me away from that abyss almost without fail.

"I have a roof overhead, and food in the belly. Everything else is a luxury."

I return to the absolute basics of survival, and start a list in my head of how they all get met without fail in my life. I know where I'm sleeping tonight. I know where my next meal is coming from. If the plans I have in place for each of those were to fall through, I have other options.

Using Maslow's hierarchy of needs, we can expand: there's no one trying to kill me. My personal safety is not in imminent danger. I have a job (more or less). I have no major health issues. I have family and friends I can turn to in times of need. I could go on, but you probably get the idea. I often don't even need to go through the whole shebang, but just the first line a few times:

"I have a roof overhead, and food in the belly. Everything else is a luxury."

It sounds too simple to work, but it works for me. This has become incredibly useful in dealing with the stress of grad school. When I remember that all my basic needs in life are more than adequately met, it seems like less of a deal that I have an upcoming exam that I'm not prepared for, that my schedule is packed, that day to day life is stressful.

This might be too dark for some people, but I find it comforting. If I were to fail out of grad school, if the PI kicked me out of the lab, if I had a major medical emergency, everything would still be okay. Because I would still have a roof over my head, and I would still have food in my belly. And everything else can be dealt with.