The weeks from the initial Laidlaw acceptance email to June 1st felt heavenly; everyday I was looking forward to starting my research journey, to becoming a “scholar” in something meaningful. But when June 1st actually hit, I felt an uneasy emptiness. Becoming a Laidlaw scholar hadn’t felt real until that point, as if the organization would one day realize they had actually sent the email out by mistake and rescind my offer. So when I finally realized that I had truly achieved my goal of starting my research journey, I should have been ecstatic. Instead, the feeling of accomplishment of starting a research program I had been dreaming about made everything else I did pale in comparison. Scheduling a planning meeting or refining my search terms would not provide the same level of euphoria as getting accepted into the program or creating the final paper. Rationally, I knew that the research period would have to be broken down into small manageable tasks that would ultimately lead to the production of the final paper, but I couldn’t feel the importance of these small tasks, nor did I appreciate completing them. I didn’t take the time to celebrate the moments where I finished reading another article from my seemingly never ending list of reading, when I learned more about PhysiCell, the software I was creating my project in, or when I wrote the first few lines of the introduction section of the paper. It made the first couple weeks of research seem lackluster in comparison to my expectations, and I often felt unmotivated to continue despite knowing I should.
It was when I finally started taking the time to be proud of the various steps of research I completed, that I was able to regain my momentum in the research process and enjoy it more! Considering each step as a “win” instead of only celebrating the final product I would create in the distant future let me appreciate each aspect of the research process as an opportunity of learning and gave me space to reflect on my growth as a researcher throughout the process.
This mindset also helped me appreciate the suprising simplicity of my final day of the 6 week research period.
Unexpectedly, the last day of research didn't feel as noteworthy as I expected; it was just another day. I felt more accomplished a couple days before the end of the research period, when I had finally gotten my code to work (after what felt like hours of debugging) and simulated the lung cancer cells, immune cells, and extracellular matrix proteins all together, than on the final day. Although I definitely celebrated my finished project as a win, I am realizing that the last day of the research program, which was much more mundane and filled with tying up loose ends instead of producing something novel or different, is equally deserving of celebration. So were the non-academic moments spent with the other scholars at our many potlucks, watching the first Fifa match, playing board games, and visiting the St. Andrews night market (though it was still bright and sunny when we went). These events not only gave me time to decompress, but also to build community.
Creating a model that simulates lung cancer growth is an accomplishment I’m proud of, but I’m equally, if not more proud of the smaller tasks I accomplished, like learning what Scopus is, figuring out how to use a pointer in C++, and using the terminal to run my code instead of the user-friendly coding interface of the program I was working on when I ran into issues. Accomplishing these gave me new skills I hadn’t even known about before starting the research project!
When we put a pedestal on big academic wins, everything else seems less insignificant in comparison. In reality however, it’s those small wins that add up to result in the final product everyone else sees. I remind myself of this as I start writing the research paper– to give myself some grace and celebrate the small wins. And for you, the reader, I encourage you to celebrate all of your small wins, even something as simple as getting to the end of this blog!