Don't ask me what I'm doing

(Between my MSc and PhD)

​"You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards.” (Steve Jobs). Thus, to connect the dots and present a rounded narrative, I feel I ought to have reached some final goal. Currently, I’m still in transit - hopefully placing dots in the right direction.
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Being “between MSc and PhD” is turning out to be a stint longer than I had anticipated. Offering pearls of wisdom requires a bit more academic experience than I currently have under my belt, but what I can offer you are some of my finest pearls of encouragement. With power comes responsibility and with unemployment comes time for reflection.

Written by Charlotte

Growing up in a family circle of nature-lovers, the (com)passion for animals was instilled early on. Along with this fascination for (and at times, adoption of) all that was furry, feathered or scaled, an interest in the behaviour of my fellow humans took hold. I was very curious about the amount of variation in personalities around me, yet how people at times still seemed to behave in predictable patterns. Luckily, I was not made to choose between animal or human behaviour, as the University of Bristol offered Psychology-Zoology as a joint-honours bachelor. I built a solid theoretical basis, but more importantly I started approaching questions from an evolutionary standpoint. A field course trip to Lundy Island was a first taste of what collecting and analysing your own data would be like. Sitting on a rock, in the pouring rain looking at rafting sea birds, I thought “this (+a pair of dry socks) is the life”.
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My first “real” field work experience (and the start of what I like to think of as a healthy mongoose obsession) was as a research assistant in South Africa, Limpopo on the Dwarf Mongoose Research Project (DMRP). I learnt the joy of studying animals in their natural habitat: an exercise that incites a multitude of questions. How do these critters know where to go? What are they eating? What does that call mean? Why is that individual getting groomed more than others? Is that a snake? I became particularly fascinated by their territorial behaviour and gravitated towards pursuing a Research Masters. Being in charge of designing experiments, collecting data and becoming immersed in a little patch of literature was an immensely useful experience. In terms of future planning, it made this significant change: I felt that doing a PhD was within my capabilities, something I previously had thought was for “other people”. Full-time dedication to research, field work and (hopefully) producing something useful or interesting? Yes, please. Unfortunately, feeling like you can do a PhD and actually securing a funded PhD position are two different things.

​After finishing my MSc thesis, I was keen to run follow-up experiments on the dwarf mongoose project. Unlike my undergraduate essays where the general discussion ended in a half-hearted “someone should really look into this more”, I actually wanted to be the one to follow up on the generated questions. I went out as project manager at the DMRP which, along with the novel experience of organising project logistics and training new mongoose recruits, allowed me to run new territorial intrusion experiments. During this time, I had my peepers peeled for interesting PhD projects. Lo and behold – my (slow) internet searches were not in vain. I remember loading up the Max Planck Institute for Ornithology Collective Behaviour page: a vulturine guineafowl picture appeared, I read the description and thought “bingo”. I got in touch and was successful in all steps of the application. The project was in its infancy, but it had all the building blocks to answer some really exciting questions regarding collective movement and group decision-making. Unfortunately, early stages of research rarely come with a lot of funding (a broken record track I’m sure is familiar to many academics). However, it was possible to send me out as a field technician and I spent 4 months in Kenya, Mpala Research Centre, making a start on the description and tagging of the wonderfully weird vulturine guineafowl. 

​Despite not moving straight into a PhD, the opportunity to remain in research under different titles, has provided the opportunity to accumulate experiences which inadvertently have turned into skill sets. Specific know-hows related to each project aside (from weighing a mongoose to GPS-tagging a guineafowl), I learnt things like improvising field work equipment, changing a tyre, adapting to the local culture and mediating clashes between team members. These transferable skills are best learnt through being dropped in the deep end. Moreover, working on two very different projects has highlighted which project aspects are important to me and what I want to maintain moving forward. Some perhaps under-rated qualities in research I have picked up on:
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1. Collaboration. “Being a team player” always sounded to me like a pretty straight-forward skill and something people put on their CV as a filler. Turns out, being able to stay tactful when opinions diverge and acknowledge the contributions of your team members is not something to be taken for granted and remains a day-to-day challenge, especially when working in a team with different backgrounds and skillsets.
2. Diversifying your audience. Talking about what I do with friends, family, my dog, allows me to take a step back and engage with an audience that does not necessarily deal with research on a daily basis and might not really care. Science outreach has always been something I enjoy and feel is important (not to get political). The extra upshot is that a new perspective often sparks creative ideas and keeps you on your toes (i.e. why is research important in the bigger picture?).  
3. Time management. I imagine working a monotonous job and having a horrible boss has one perk: you don’t feel guilty about calling in sick or shutting off the computer and heading home at 5 pm sharp. That pestering feeling of “I could do more” is maybe something that comes with working with people you like and doing something you consider worthwhile. Even if you love what you do, it’s still work. Figuring out a healthy work-play balance seems all the more important when you are left in charge of your own schedule.
4. Business or pleasure? As a people pleaser, I am frequently occupied by making sure everyone is happy. However, in some cases, it can be advantageous to mark the line between “work you” and “fun you” around the people you work with. What you expect from a collaboration is different to what you look for in a friend. Of course, working in remote field sites, these two groups are often one and the same. Experiencing the awkwardness of “having a serious chat” with friends has highlighted the importance of laying down some work ground rules first.       
5. Humility and approachability. I have been very lucky to be surrounded and mentored by some truly inspiring people. One of the things they have in common is that they are open about their limitations and invite you to contribute and share your ideas. Far from making them seem inadequate, it made them approachable (and painfully modest at times). For me, this approach makes collaborating more fun, fruitful and removes the fear of “sounding stupid”. I think people often feel embarrassed to come across ignorant on a topic (myself included), but opening up about the gaps in your knowledge only invites the possibility for them to be filled.

​What now – I’m a stay-at-home scientist. I keep my head in the academia game through writing up papers and applications, keeping tabs on project developments and reading new publications (thank you Twitter). It is important to keep moving forward in this slightly unstructured phase, as I want to have something to show for this period. Moreover, I will soon be heading out for a second time to Mpala Research Centre to continue collecting data and start running some experiments with the vulturine guineafowl (the project has developed a spectacular amount since my first day there).
Something that struck me while reading other “academic life history” blog posts is that people who are multiple steps ahead of me on the academia ladder, ask themselves the question “what next?”. I suppose we are all still in transit and it will be a while before we look back and connect the dots.