I went to Springfield for Thanksgiving, and soon as I came in, he was busy chopping up vegetables, preparing the cranberry sauce, mashing the sweet potatoes and making the signature sweet potato bread rolls. Bored and left to my devices, I went online to check the performances of certain stocks, something I haven't been able to do since I last visited him from UPenn. He pried my fingers off from the keyboard as soon as he realized what I was doing, and went back on ten minutes later to check the most recent news about the Noreaster hitting our coast and pending forecasts of rain and snow.
This Thanksgiving may be bordering on a bit strange, but this year, I have several things to be thankful for:
The first one would have to be the Puppy and his own brand of lovableness. He likes making things, giving them to you, and making you feel special. He's interested in just about everything you can find around the house, and looks especially adorable when he's planting fall bulbs, buying pet fish, or making apple pie. I don't feel like I'm at home in my own apartment, which I pretty much only use for sleep; but I feel like I'm home wherever he is.
The second thing I have to be thankful for is the lab and the new changes I've made in studying the mouse model. Drosophila is an excellent model organism for genetics, but I can only go so far in it if I want to study topics of a medically-relevant basis. The mouse is infinitely closer to the human than flies are, but they present challenges that geneticists must concede if they want to focus their energies on this model. Working at the Labosky lab has taught me much about mammalian development and has allowed me to get my foot-in-the-door on stem cell research. Currently, I work on liver bud development, but I'm expecting to have an increase in responsibilities soon. Yesterday, Dr. Tremblay told me about CRE-mediated diptheria toxin production and the new genetically-controlled ablation technique in developmental biology research. This makes it possible to perform ablation techniques on mammals in vivo.
Working in close proximity to Wharton and many business-minded people is changing the way I think about science and the world. I've recently made the academic switch from genetics and a developmental biology focus to pharmacology, and soon, nanotechnology. Genetics and stem cells are interesting, have only marginally been tapped as a medical resource, and have great potential for therapeutics; but for the moment, advances in these fields are too speculative for me and unattractive to investors.
I'm thankful that I've found something that calls to me and is rewarding on a material, physical basis as well. I used to think that genes, poetry, literature, and the human genome were the only things worthy of my time, but I've come to add the stock market to that hodge-podge assortment as well. Now here is a dynamic system that changes, challenges me, uses my skills, is inexhaustible (like Shakespeare, or Merrill...), and is understandably important as well. It makes me feel like I have a personal stake in the economy, and motivates me to learn more and more about it...
There is a world outside of academia. There are companies that would pay me to be mad and neurotic, and find new molecules for them; places where I can be myself, and be with other smart people that will challenge and stimulate me. Initially, I wanted to be an academic because I thought it was the only place where I could learn forever and escape being given some rote task that would bore me to the grave. I'm the sort of person that requires a high degree of stimulation. When I first entered the marble halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I gazed around and around and was dumbstruck with awe. I want to emulate that feeling; and make it happen in my life. I like finance. I like investing. I want to be a business-scientist, and I feel, intrinsically, that I'll always be a poet as well. Academies are so quick to encourage polymaths, Renaissance men, and people with varied interests. Why can't they be enthusiastic about business as well? If students are taught Einstein, Shakespeare, and Virgil, shouldn't they be taught how to do a little more than balance a checkbook as well?
It's Thanksgiving, and I have a couple of other things to be thankful for as well before this night comes to a close:
Parents and family: as annoying and misunderstanding as they can be at times, they're there when you need them, they've known you growing up, and they intrinsically mean well. You can't fault them for everything.
My education: it's made me who I am, it's shaped my ego, and it's exposed me to a myriad assortment of people and philosophies I would have otherwise never known. Here's to you: McNair Academic, Penn, and Drew
Jersey City: you're not so bad. You're dirty, poor, mismanaged, overpopulated, and uncared for, but you played a part in shaping who I am, if only to make me aware of what I had to escape from, and you made me want to try every bit of the world I could. You're not so bad.
Friends: without naming any specific person in particular, all of you are different and represent some different aspect or stage in my life. Not all of you could stay with me through the years, but it was mutual while it lasted, we shared some joys, you taught me something about the world I never knew, and even if it ended on a bad note, I don't think I'd take back ever meeting you.
As Mark Twain once said, "Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with."
Have a Happy Thanksgiving.
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