As I was thinking of things that I would like to blog about, I realized that none of them made sense if you don't know who I am. If you don't know anything about me, why should you care what I have to say? Of course, this website was designed to share some information about myself, but how much can you really learn by reading my resume? Sure, you can find out where I went to school or what my past job titles were, but what does that really tell you?
So, to that end, I will give you a bit of information about me that wouldn't make its way in to a resume.
I grew up in Billings, Montana. Billings is the biggest city in the state, which in Montana means that it has about 100,000 people living there. On the way to school, I drove past several properties that still had cattle grazing on them and multiple corn fields. We thought we were the big city, but as soon as I moved away for college, I realized that we were just a glorified small town.
One side of my family raises sheep near Livingston, Montana. I spent lots of weekends being a ranch kid and running around with boots on, riding horses, exploring barns, and feeding lambs. The other side of my family lives in southern California. Almost every member of that side practices medicine in some respect. It was an interesting mix of cultures, but I never felt out of place with either side of my family. My whole family is full of passion for their chosen careers, and they all work hard in service of the things they love.
I have always been a scientist. I grew up in a family of medical professionals, over achievers, and nerds. My father was what I call a "random quizzer." He would find times to ambush my brother and I with questions that we would have to puzzle out while he helped us by subtly prodding us with the scientific method. One instance I remember happened during the drive home from a Costco trip. He stopped at a red light and casually said "So, tell me how a lava lamp works." From there, he guided us through the thought process as we drove home with our car full of bulk food. Why do things float? Why do they sink? How could the "lava" both float AND sink when it is submerged in the same liquid? What happens if you touch the lamp when it is on? Why do we think it would be warm? And on and on. My dad was teaching me how to figure things out by asking questions. He showed me that not knowing an answer right away meant that I should spend some time trying to puzzle it out. I loved thinking this way, which is why I developed a passion for science early on.
I lived in Billings until I graduated high school. This meant that I was largely around the same people from childhood until I turned 18 and moved to college. On one hand, this meant that I had made life-long friends who knew almost everything there was to know about me. On the other hand, it meant that most of the people around me knew everything there was to know about me. Anyone who lived in one place their whole childhood can likely relate to this. I felt like I was stuck acting like the person everyone thought I was based on my early years. I wanted to move away and see what I became when I didn't have the expectation of others to live up to. To that end, I went to Whitworth University in Spokane, Washington for college.
College was a great time for me. I met amazing people including the three women who would become my bridesmaids and best life-long friends and the man who would later become my husband. Since Whitworth is a liberal arts school, I received an extremely well-rounded education. My science classes were almost all writing-intensive, and many included sections designed to make me better at presenting scientific data. I had the opportunity to take courses in communication, philosophy, writing, policy, sociology, art, and many others. It truly ignited my love of learning.
I entered college with the complete belief that I was going to be a medical doctor. It was all that I knew how to want to be. I worked hard in pursuit of that goal throughout my time at Whitworth. Around the end of my junior year, I realized that something was wrong. I was pushing myself hard to do the things I needed to do to achieve my goal. I was studying for the MCATs, working on volunteer hours, trying to get medical experience, and doing all of the recommendations from the Pre-Med advisers. I was also miserable. I began having panic attacks and experiencing other mental health issues. After seeking help, I realized that I didn't want to be a doctor, and the pressure I was putting on myself to do something that I didn't want was tearing me apart. The realization that the only thing I had ever known how to work towards was no longer my goal was a difficult one, but it made me free. As soon as I made the decision to pursue a PhD in chemistry instead of an MD, I felt a tremendous relief. With the pressure off, I began to rediscover my enthusiasm and enjoy learning again.
After I graduated with my BS in Chemistry, I attended the University of Utah for graduate school. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Science is not a nurturing field and I was forced to learn how to fail over and over again. I grew tremendously as a person and as a professional during my time in graduate school. I think the biggest lesson was how to learn from an unsuccessful trial and turn it in to a success. It was here that I really ignited my love of scientific communication. Writing research papers, creating meaningful graphs and figures out of data, giving presentations, and teaching were some of the things that I enjoyed most.
That is a bit of history. I hope to share more in the future. I also hope that this glimpse provides a bit of background that you can apply to anything I write in the future.
Thanks for visiting!
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