Tag: education

  • How to Be Successful

    Recently, I watched a video by Ali Abdaal on YouTube titled, “How To Get Rich“. It was a great video because Ali didn’t just share the cookie cutter nonsense everyone else seems to spout these days. Instead, he shared the uncomfortable truth that no one wants to acknowledge. To get rich, you must get unhealthily obsessed with making money. Now, this article is not about how to make money or how to get rich, but I think Ali’s advice is very important and can be applied to any areas in life that you want to become successful in.

    When I was in middle school, I remember constantly getting bored during math class. I felt like I was wasting hours of my life repeating the same material I already knew how to do. Because I couldn’t just leave the class, I found a way to make my minutes more productive. I asked the teacher if I could work on the next day’s material. This was the catalyst for what would change my life completely. As I began to work ahead on mathematics assignments, I realized that I could finish the entire year’s worth of material much sooner than prescribed. I became obsessed with completing more and more assignments to see how far ahead I could get. Eventually, I finished all the material required for my grade level with three months left in the school year. My teacher then suggested I start working on the material for next year. Still obsessed, I jumped on the opportunity and soon found that I had completed all the requirements for ninth-grade mathematics by the time the school year was coming to a close.

    The principal of the school took notice of my accelerated plan and reviewed my records in other classes. With his approval, I was cleared to skip the requirements for all other grade-nine subjects, and come Fall, I would start taking classes with students one year ahead of me.

    I worked steadily at this level for one semester before another opportunity crossed my path. I was offered the chance to begin a dual-enrollment program the following year — if I transferred to a different high school. Still intoxicated by the idea of graduating early, starting college at the age of 15 was an incredible proposition. I accepted the offer, transferred schools, and started taking university classes a semester later.

    I graduated university having just turned 17, and with two years-worth of university credits and experience under my belt. None of it would have been possible if I wasn’t so obsessed with pushing myself further academically. I sacrificed extracurriculars, social groups, and other activities to reach my goal. Looking back, I think this is the kind of “unhealthy obsession” that Ali was talking about.

    Since watching that video, I have started looking at the paths of other successful people. I can think of many athletes that have dedicated their lives to their sport, often making large sacrifices to become the best that they can be. Talented musicians who spend hours practicing. Academics that rarely see sunlight because they are so passionate about increasing their knowledge. Mechanics who spend their free time fiddling with any machinery they can find. Artists who doodle on everything. The list is endless.

    I think Ali was on to something. Successful people are (or were at some point) unhealthily obsessed with whatever it is they became successful at.

    To be successful, you have to immerse yourself in the world of whatever it is you are trying to achieve. Consume content related to it whenever you can then apply it in strategic ways. Learn and improve constantly. Desire to achieve.

    And if you can’t become obsessed with it, how much do you really want it?

    What are your thoughts on this? Do you agree or disagree with obsession as a way to get successful? Let me know what you think in the comments section and be sure to give this article a “like” if you enjoyed it.

    Thanks for reading.

    TJ

  • Graduate School: A Cautionary Tale from a Two-Time Dropout

    I tried graduate school twice but dropped out after one year both times. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle the academics (I had completed all the required coursework in my first degree and was halfway through the requirements of the second), I couldn’t handle the competitiveness of academia.

    For years, I had tied my self-worth to my academic success. I studied hard, got good grades, skipped a grade, made dean’s lists and honor rolls, and graduated early. By all accounts, I was successful. Except, graduate school is not about coursework or grades, it’s about research.

    I was always so eager to learn that I soaked up any information I was given or could find for nearly all the topics covered in high school and during my bachelor’s. I thought graduate school would be more of the same. What I didn’t realize was that graduate school prepares you to be an expert on one topic: the topic you research. In graduate school, you spend years planning experiments, writing procedures, testing hypotheses, reviewing literature, and presenting your findings for the niche topic you chose when you started. That works for a lot of people, but it does not work for me.

    I am a very self-motivated person. I work well independently and can focus on tasks for significant periods of time. I put my all into every project I do. This seems like it would be the perfect profile for a graduate school candidate, but actually, it is the perfect recipe for burnout.

    In graduate school, there are no set working hours. You decide your schedule. You still answer to your supervisor and have deadlines to meet, except those deadlines are often months to years in the future. You have to budget your time well enough to meet those deadlines. Simple in theory, difficult in practice.

    When you are in graduate school, there is a shiny star called “the future” to guide you through the massive amount of work you must complete. You are enticed by the promise of a high paycheck and notoriety if you make a significant contribution to your field. You work diligently, day and night, to perform the necessary experiments, gain credible data, and write informative prose, only to find out that a mere five people will ever read your dissertation. There are also academic journals that all researchers, students and professionals alike, are encouraged to publish in. “Publish or perish” is a common mantra I heard in graduate school. Publications get you professorships, and isn’t that the goal for academics?

    Then there is the issue of egos. Everyone in academia — professors, post-docs, and students — all think they are smart. They would not be in their position if they weren’t. The trap students fall into is in trying to prove their intelligence. No longer is it enough to think you are smart; everyone else must think you are smart too. When you are in a place where everyone around you is intelligent, there is no easy measure for assigning smarts, but students find their own ways to determine it. “I come in earlier than everyone else.” “I stay later than everyone else.” “I’m farther along in my research than everyone else.” “I’m attending these conferences.” “I have X amount of publications.” If any one of these criteria are not met, students feel like they are failing. Thus starts the cycle of putting in more hours and more effort to achieve the high standard students are only putting on themselves.

    To cap it all off, each stage in the academic ladder is expensive, thankless, and rarely pays well. To be in academia, you must love it. You have to love the mundane task of carrying out experiments that, by design, are unsuccessful more times than they succeed. You have to love having every word of everything you say or write be scrutinized. You have to love being in competition with your peers — imaginary or not. Academia is brutal and graduate school is just the tip of the iceberg.

    Most of the professors I have met, don’t seem to care about this cycle. The impression I got was, “I got through it, so must you.” They are only too happy to see the experimental results come in and the journal papers be written. It secures them publications for their H-index and a cozy position at the university.

    University professors do wear many hats and are often incredibly busy. With teaching classes, advising undergraduate students, supervising graduate students, serving on committees, peer-reviewing journals, applying for grants, and conducting their own research, professors are stretched extremely thin. It is all too easy to blame them for failing to help their graduate students emotionally, but they are also running their own hamster wheel.

    There are wonderful professors out there who put in the effort to nurture their students to be successful in academia, but they are few and far between. It also isn’t entirely the supervisor’s fault when a student leaves. I had a wonderful supervisor during my first attempt at graduate school that put in great effort towards helping my lab mate and I succeed in our research. I blame my immaturity for my withdrawal. I was swept up by the imagined competition, the need to prove myself, and the daunting prospect of spending four more years on only one topic I wasn’t sure I liked.

    My second attempt was the real eye-opener. After taking a year off from academia, I switched schools, departments, supervisors, and countries for my next attempt. I will say that many things took place in my personal life that led to my ultimate withdrawal from this university, but there is also a lot to be said about the program and research environment I was in that made me decide to leave.

    This university was much more prestigious than the first university I attended and their research was much more visible. I was excited to learn from the best of the best and hopefully become one myself. In the beginning, I took in as much advice and information as I could. I paid attention to the senior students and tried to mimic what appeared to be working for them. When I transitioned into the phase of finally conducting my own experiments and presenting my own work, things started to fall apart.

    My supervisor became more distant and was extremely harsh when he did give feedback, often in the form of public shaming. I had difficulties with trying to repair broken laboratory equipment and navigating the process of ordering materials (in a foreign language) for my research. I felt like I was falling behind, so I put in more hours at the institute, arriving extremely early in the morning to get work done while the building was quiet and empty. I agonized over the presentations and reports I prepared, only to have them ripped apart or entirely rewritten by my supervisor. No matter how much effort I put in to improve, I was just left feeling stupid, incapable, and like “a waste of time.” Compound that with the issues I was facing in my personal life, and I spiraled into a very dark place mentally. When I realized just how bad things had become and nothing was working to pull me out of the state I was in, I knew I had to leave. I felt tremendous shame for walking out in the middle of another graduate degree, but it had to be done.

    Now, months later, I am the happiest I have felt in a long time. After having initially sworn off anything related to science, I have found great enjoyment in producing my podcast, Fall Asleep to Science, and applying my prior coding and analysis experience to become a data scientist.

    I am thankful for my graduate school experiences because they helped me to understand my true passions and what I want out of my professional career. I am now aware of my natural tendencies and insecurities and am working to correct those that hinder me. I learned so many valuable skills that I will carry with me into future roles: time management, effective research strategies and experimental design, work-life balance, and networking. I am a more capable person that will continue to improve with each new experience. I fell on my face twice by quitting two graduate programs, but I am a much more self-aware person because of it.

    If you are considering graduate school, I strongly encourage you to think about your mental patterns and what motivates you. If your habits and motivations are similar to what mine were, I urge you to set up a series of checks for yourself to prevent burning out. A desire for prestige is not enough to carry a person through the highs and lows of academia. Be sure to choose a supervisor you trust and a topic you could spend years dissecting. Prepare yourself before you start by brushing up on the topics you will be expected to know for your chosen discipline.

    Academia is a great space, but it is undeniably challenging. Choose wisely and prepare accordingly.

    What were your biggest failures that led to your most fruitful growths? Did you go to graduate school? What are your mental habits?

    Feel free to share your answers in the comment section, or like this post if you enjoyed it.

    Thank you for reading.

    -TJ