NIH New PI: Reflection and Progress Report, Month 2

Time flies! I cannot believe that it's already been two months since I got the official notice of award for a 5-year K23. (See blubbering me, right). And because the notice came on the start date of the grant (usually comes ahead of time), it's been two months of grant-funded activities. This grant protects 80% of my time for research; as I'm at a primarily undergraduate institution with a 3/3 teaching load and the notice came mid-semester, the change in day-to-day life was abrupt and dramatic. 

And great. And stressful. And humbling, in the most positive way.

So what have I done with the past two months, you ask? A lot, and not enough, all at the same time. Crazy how that works for so many academics! Here are some of the ways I spent my increased research time in March/April:

Step 1: Transfer two full sections of Abnormal Psychology to new instructors (35 students each). We knew in January that the grant was likely to happen, but we didn't know when, and I was in the classroom until the day the notice came. For one section, an adjunct who had observed me all semester took over; for the other, a full-time faculty member who regularly teaches the course took over. My tasks were to finish grading a set of homework assignments, meet with the new instructors to discuss midterm and final projects, and get my materials into shareable form. I had prepared students for my departure since the first day of the semester, but there was also the matter of actually saying goodbye. Abnormal is a popular course, and I'm pleased to say that at least a few students took it with me specifically because they heard good feedback from peers. So this was a bittersweet moment.

Step 2: Figure out how on earth to manage a grant. I was (and still am) astonished at how much time is spent on administrative tasks. Hiring staff, setting up record-keeping and other procedures, planning and tracking spending. There is so much involved that isn't really about the research (or training; see Step 3), and in my case, I'm doing it for two different institutions (more soon). Some days it seems like all I accomplish are admin tasks, which is frustrating. But I recognize that these are necessary and I try to keep a balance by protecting time for other work. Success rate ~40%.

Step 3: Get started on training activities. The K23 is a career development award, where research projects are intended to (1) facilitate practice and development of new research approaches and skills learned through training with mentors, and (2) generate strong preliminary data for future R proposals. My training plan involves weekly meetings with on-site mentors, monthly trips to other institutions to meet with specific mentors, workshops, and tons of reading. In the first two months, I've planned out the first year, gained a better understanding of the evidence base on tailored behavioral interventions, received guidance in grants management, and scheduled formal training in analysis of ambulatory assessment data. I've also watched several webinars on career development, responsible conduct of research, and academic productivity. 

Step 4: WRITE ALL OF THE THINGS! One of the best features of the K23 is the protected time, and I've tried to spend a good chunk of this time on writing projects. This was much easier in March than in April (see Step 6), but I managed to make some progress. I completed three invited manuscript revisions (two manuscripts now accepted for publication), revised a rejected manuscript and submitted to a new journal, accepted two invitations for manuscript/encyclopedia submissions, and added to drafts of new manuscripts. One of these required reviewing literature I'm not that familiar with, so again, tons of reading. 

Step 5: READ ALL OF THE THINGS! I cannot describe how wonderful it is to have time to read again. Not only for catching up on so much new research and preparing for class (see Step 6), but for other enriching texts that broaden my mind and skills. So far, I've devoured The Coach's Guide for Women Professors and Supervising Ph.D. Students,* and I just started a tome called The Cigarette Century (all nonfiction). I'm also obsessed with audiobooks; my favorite right now is Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine (fiction), which I've listened to several times.

Step 6: Continue prepping and teaching a new course, continue mentoring students on independent projects, and take on new leadership roles. So 80% of my time is now devoted to training and related research, and that leaves 20% for everything else. In my case, some of that everything is teaching and mentoring. The course I continued to teach is Psychology of Women, which is really the psychology of gender and equity. Oddly, prior to this semester, the course did not have a Women's and Gender Studies designation, and I did some prep last semester to apply for the designation (approved). Although my research focuses on women's health, my background isn't in the psychology of gender or women's/gender studies. This means that a lot of the material is new to me, and it takes a lot more consistent reading and prep work than a course like Abnormal.** It's also a very interesting point in time to be teaching this course, given the most recent presidential election and the #MeToo movement. I'm fortunate that I have a fantastic group of students who make the course so much fun to teach. Though it's a lot of work.

With respect to mentoring, I have a full-time research coordinator, a senior fellowship student, and a junior student who all have independent projects they're working on, plus a senior lab assistant and a sophomore who is developing an independent project idea through a tutorial with me. That's three sets of data collection, individual mentoring time, and weekly lab meetings. Today, my students are presenting our work at the University's internal research day, so the last few weeks have been devoted to poster preparation. I look forward to sharing this experience with them.

Speaking of posters, it seems like yesterday that I was in New Orleans for the annual meeting of the Society of Behavioral Medicine (SBM). The last major set of tasks that have occupied my last few months have to do with SBM. In addition to prep for student posters, my own oral presentations, and session chair duties, I've taken on an additional leadership role in one of the Society's special interest groups and joined two committees. The number of emails and phone calls per week alone is astonishing. But it's fantastic to have the chance to be more involved with SBM and to contribute to the Society's activities in a more meaningful way, and all of these activities are directly related to the topics of the K23 award.

Coordinator Kristen Pasko and student Sabrina DiBisceglie
presenting at SBM 2018

Step 7: Try to wrap my mind around this amazing opportunity. As I noted in a series of tweets back in March, I really never believed that I would become an NIH-funded PI. The funding environment is so competitive, and brilliant, talented investigators with great projects miss paylines all the time. (We also now have data to support what many suspected about low inter-reviewer reliability for grant scoring, which makes it all seem pretty random.) I'm a very hard worker with some decent ideas, but I fully acknowledge that I am not the most innovative person out there. This is compounded by the fact that my work has taken a sharp turn into the digital sphere, where the commercial market and research space have exploded in the past few years. So I planned to keep plugging, work with collaborators, do my best work and make the best of whatever happened. Then the K23 happened, and all of a sudden, a dream came true.

This changed things for me. Things like my expectations for myself, my sense of what others might expect from me, the scope and possibilities for my work. My researcher identity, in a way. Plus, there's the new responsibility of being entrusted with taxpayer money. I realize that I probably didn't need to have quite such an existential experience over it, but I did. And that hasn't really stopped. It's pretty common for me to be in the middle of one of the activities described above, and all of a sudden remember that I'm now a PI. Not once has this failed to bring a huge smile to my face or remind me how lucky I am. I plan to make the most of the next 4.8 years, and I think I'm off to a pretty good start.

*Supervising Ph.D. students has not been part of my work thus far, but will be soon. Stay tuned!
**My background is in clinical psychology and I've taught Abnormal about 20 times.

A Change of (Research) Scenery

When it comes to routine, I am the best. I absolutely love getting into a daily groove and staying there for a long time. I also love going to the same restaurants on multiple occasions and watching my favorite movies and shows many times over. (Most recent case in point: I have watched the entire available-in-America catalog of The Great British Baking Show more times than I can count. I was on round five last time I checked and that was a while ago.)* There's something delightful about establishing a routine or revisiting something familiar. You know exactly what you'll get and you can look forward to enjoying it.

By best, I also mean worst. Not just because most people find this approach to life terribly dull for lacking in spontaneity. I see the value in changes and I do like to mix it up on occasion. (Mostly when a friend asks that we eat at not-the-same-restaurant-we-always-go-to.) I mean that sometimes routine can be detrimental to a research program. 

Fully immersing ourselves in a research project has plenty of advantages, as does regular/daily writing and setting a model of consistency for mentees. These practices can produce both more efficient and higher-quality work than repeatedly re-orienting to a project whenever opportunity arises. But even this can be taken too far. In my case, I get so engrossed that I don't leave my building for eight or nine hours at a time during winter and summer breaks. I get lots of work done, but my efficiency decreases after several days (or weeks) in a row of this approach. 

To combat my tendency to retread a very deep path, I've embraced two practices:

(1) The writing retreat, and 
(2) The collaborative research trip.

I've tweeted about the writing retreats I organize for our faculty writing group at my university (see below),** and others have written (very eloquently) about the benefits and how-tos of these events. There's something about a change of scenery for the purpose of writing that packs a punch. Faculty offices are associated with plenty of other kinds of work, and it's easy to get distracted or restless. Finding a peaceful location where the goal is to write gives us something extra to look forward to and the perfect justification for putting other work on hold.

Hoppy Tuesday! This makes up for road closures/coffee disasters that it took to get here. My work space for the next 2 days. #Acwri #ECRChat pic.twitter.com/a77qXq0Weu

— Dr. Dani Arigo (@DaniArigo) June 20, 2017

Running on the BFP.

In contrast, the collaborative research trip is new for me. By "collaborative research trip," I mean an extended stay at a university where you have collaborators and intensive collaborative work during that stay. In my case, I've continued to work closely with my postdoc fellowship lab, which is 2+ hours away in Philadelphia. I've been back to visit several times in the past three years, but never for more than a day or two at a time. This summer, the lab set me up with a small office for a week in order to have more face time for papers and grant applications. This is my fourth day on campus - I've made considerable progress on a manuscript I started last month and specific plans for two more manuscripts on related topics, plus tentative plans for grant applications. I've also been able to run in my old haunts, like the Ben Franklin Parkway and Boathouse Row. Quite a productive week so far!

Office space for Philly visit.

But this trip has been great for my research and for me beyond the concrete productivity. It's reconnected me to a type of research (i.e., large clinical trials) that I have yet to implement at my institution, and it's given me the opportunity to spend both work and personal time with people I don't see very often. I've also loved having time to myself to read, focus on marathon training, and avoid any sort of routine. I had already planned to visit again during my Spring 2018 sabbatical, and now I know that I'll visit as often as they'll let me!

This is your life moment of the week: Busting out of a routine helps to establish balance. Looking forward to getting back to my usual, but also to my next break from it :)

*I'm a member of my local public broadcasting affiliate, obviously, so I've even binge-watched all of season 4 many times.
**Please ignore the typo in this one - Twitter really needs an EDIT button!

On Summer Reading

Like most academics, I really do love to read. And every time I get a break from the hectic pace of a semester, I remember how much I love it. I find it incredibly tough to make time for leisure or general staying-informed reading amidst teaching, grading, mentee supervision, committee work, conference prep, and event planning. During these times, most of the text that gets any sort of attention is on a syllabus reading list or in the form of a tweet.* But during long breaks, I (we) get to rediscover the long form.

Free your mind - bury it in a book! #amwriting #writenow #writing pic.twitter.com/PvdJbhDurs

— Write Now Podcast (@WriteNowPodcast) July 6, 2017

Like what? I've read some incredible books during my last few breaks. I was utterly absorbed by Alice Dreger's Galileo's Middle Finger during winter break 2016. If you consider yourself a scientist (or generally a person who understands the importance of the scientific method), read this book. Likewise, Jill Leovy's Ghettoside: The True Story of Murder in America is a heartbreaking and eye-opening look into the reasons why so many murders of black people go unsolved in Los Angeles.** I was invited to read and discuss Pheobe Robinson's You Can't Touch My Hair with the student staff at our Women's Center. I was blown away by Robinson's ability to communicate her black, woman, and black woman identities as both distinct and integrated. And Rebecca Traister's All the Single Ladies was an engrossing mix of history, interviews, and personal stories that chronicled single women's contributions to US society. 

Women's Health Research panelists

The threads that connected these reading experiences were the marginalization, oppression, and intersectionality that motivate social activism and change. I didn't plan it that way - the universe just seemed to know what was good for me. Although I'm a clinical health psychologist with a particular interest in understanding and promoting women's health, I did not come to this topic with a background in feminism or women's/gender studies. A forward-thinking colleague at my university (who happens to be the director of our Women's and Gender Studies Program) heard about my interests and invited me to join the program two years ago. Participating in WGST as an associate faculty member, and now as a member of the program steering committee, I've seen my work in a different light. I've also been able to bring together faculty and students with women's health interests through programming, such as our recent Women's Health Research Panel.

My summer 2017 reading list

Coming to a humanities-based program from a science background has wonderful advantages, but I've realized that my knowledge base has some serious gaps. So this summer, I'm giving myself a crash course in the women's/gender studies and activism. As you'll see from my reading list (right), there are some second-wave feminism classics, two histories of the women's movement, and a set of recommendations to help faculty and students maximize a WGST education. Oh, and some leisure reading - one of my favorite pastimes is reading about academic writing and productivity :)

Working on balance. As I described in my last post, I love writing, and I miss it when I let the craziness of an academic semester keep me away from it. Same with reading! So how can I (we) be better about reading what's not on our syllabi during the semester? I do try to take one day off each weekend, and I could be a lot better about making time to read on those days. I've also discovered the incredible world of audiobooks (via Audible) and I've "read" more than ever by listening while running. I got to experience Girl on the Train (incredible narration), Stephen King's The Stand (almost 50 fantastic hours!), and Katherine (an historical fiction classic) this way. I also LOVE listening to people talk about running while I run, so I listen to books about running (Eat and Run, Ultramarathon Man, Running Man***) and the new-ish Runner's World Show podcast - so motivating! I'm engaging in many hours of running each week this summer as I train for the Steamtown Marathon, so I have plenty of time to multitask.****

This is your life moment of the week: There's a lot to do, all the time. Taking a few minutes (or hours) to immerse myself in the original long form enables me to be better informed about and engaged with other aspects of my life.

So what's on your summer reading list? 

*To be fair, I get a lot of research-related notices and I find out about relevant papers via tweets. But I only get to skim them and save them in a too-big-to-describe Windows folder called TO READ.
**I read this very close to the time that I watched The People vs. OJ Simpson. What an education.
***I need to get some running audio by women!
****More on this later.

It's MAY?? Spring Semester, Conference Season, and Keeping Up

Wow. This was both the shortest and longest semester in the past 10 years, and it taught me a lot about my professional habits. Not just about a tendency to take on more than a human can manage (as many of us do), but how it happens, how I handle it, and what happens to me as a result. The short version is BAD - as in, I've already made many public commitments to avoid ever putting myself in this situation again. A good deal of reflection has led to some useful conclusions, including the meaningful rewards of all that hard work.

Conclusion #1: When presented with an opportunity to begin a new project, I focus solely on the potential scientific benefits (including "that sounds so cool!"). Unfortunately, I don't attend to the details of how the project will be carried out - whether anyone has generated a list of all relevant tasks, who is in charge of which tasks, how long each one will take, and what the standard is for completion. Which is strange, because I'm a planner! I schedule my activities carefully and I've rarely had difficulty keeping up with ongoing tasks. But without soliciting all of the relevant information above and/or making key decisions ahead of time, my plans get blown up regularly, and I lose hours on tasks that I thought would take 30 minutes. That means something else just isn't going to get attention. 

Poster #8 of the Semester

Similarly, when it's time to prepare for my favorite conferences (or for our internal student research day), it sounds like a great idea to submit 7-8 abstracts at a time. It's only when preparing posters and presentation slides (or making multiple rounds of edits to student posters) that I remember "I didn't have to do ALL of this." Tired much, academic in this photo? ---->

As many academics suggest, it would be useful to have a clearer long-term plan and concrete targets to hit. Then I can reference the plan when new opportunities are presented: does this fit, and does it help me meet my target? If it will put me beyond the target, is it enough to justify the time and effort of the project?

Conclusion #2: I'm a perfectionist/control freak. This is a tough one for me to admit. I have high standards and there is a right way to do much of what I do, so I tend to insist that it be done this way. It's easy to see the problems that such tendencies create, such as making more work (and possibly, friction) for myself than is absolutely necessary. And of course, it's just generally uncomfortable to doubt that you're a good collaborator.

At the same time, there are good reasons to insist that work be done in a particular way. Junior investigators, in particular, have to be aware of how we're building our reputations and whose standards we use to evaluate our work - especially if we work on multidisciplinary teams, as norms differ across fields. This feeds back to #1, in that potential difficulties can be avoided with thorough conversations up front. 

I'm still in the process of deciding whether to focus on changing this tendency or accepting it and adapting to it (e.g., with early conversations and the attitude that not everything is worth doing). I suspect that there is a happy medium.

Conclusion #3: I hit my limits before I expect to. I can tough it out through busy, stressful times - I have a lot of practice and I hate to be a complaint factory. So I expected to be okay for the first few months of the semester, and to feel the effects in the last few weeks. In truth, I was burnt out two weeks before spring break (i.e., five weeks in). I had little energy for socializing, which usually invigorates me, and my work didn't quite meet those high standards of mine. 

I didn't realize how spent I was until I traveled for a conference and friends inquired about my well-being. They didn't think I was on the verge of a meltdown, but they could tell that something was off. Then it hit me pretty hard. In response, I took the opportunity to rest and see the sights more than I originally planned. It helped a lot, and probably saved me some sanity down the road. As a result, I'll be more careful to take breaks (always a downfall), check in with myself, and communicate realistic time frames for completed work.

Conclusion #4: Staying mindful of positivity and the power to change can get me through. Throughout this crazy semester, I prefaced (or added the caveat to) any complaining with the acknowledgements that (1) everything on my plate was good, and (2) I made my own bed. I'm fortunate to have the opportunities I have (people want to work with me, yay!), and I have some ability to modify my schedule and commitments as I see fit (flexibility, also yay). As a clinical psychologist, I know that most people can handle difficulty if they know that it's temporary. Hope and optimism are pretty powerful; it's the lack of confidence that circumstances will improve that really gets us. My little reminders - which were accurate - kept me from getting lost in negativity. So I'll keep up those mantras whenever staying afloat seems more difficult than it should be.

Clinical Health Psychology Lab

Conclusion #5: It's all worth it. Really. I had some important successes this semester. I had a first-authored paper accepted in a great journal and my first NIH grant received a decent score. Another grant was reviewed very favorably by a mock study section. I made some critical connections at conferences. I gave many guest lectures. And I finally recovered from surgery and got back to my normal exercise routine.

Most important of all, though, were my students' successes. One was accepted at a prestigious medical school and one at an ideal masters program for her. I supervised three undergraduate Honors theses, which were my first; one of them received an Honorable Mention for our Library Research Prize and that student won two awards from our department. I mentored five additional students to posters at our research day (See photographic evidence, and #1....) 

Our Lab at Senior Awards Night

Seeing my students do well was hugely rewarding. It was the first time that I got to feel true pride in someone else's accomplishments (rather than just happiness for them), as I knew the role I played in each. And, unsurprisingly, it shifted my perspective on the long hours, sleep deprivation, and decreased socializing. I love the work for its own sake, and I'm so grateful that I get to share this with students. (Stay tuned for more commentary on this process.)

This is your life lessons of the semester: Know thyself, ask questions, and keep your eyes on the horizon.

New Year, New Outlook?

Three weeks in. Though we've had almost three weeks to get used to writing "2016," I'll admit that I still have one foot in my 2015 mindset - the one that served me well as a trainee, but now shows diminishing returns. Namely, a mindset that pushes me to take on as much as humanly possible in order to squeeze out as much useful information as I can. There's just so much to be learned about the topics that I care about. But so far this year, I'm paying attention to the costs.

For example, I know that it's perfectly acceptable (and possibly desirable) to attend a conference without submitting to present at it. But when conference season rolls around, I don't even consider this option. Partly because I'm in the habit of gearing my projects toward conference deadlines, but partly because.... why the hell not? Conferences are such a great way to get the word out about my work! 

Me, presenting at a
conference last year.

But it's always the same. I start with one or two main submissions; as I prep abstracts, I get ideas for other submissions; I want students to present, of course, so there's a few more. Before you know it, I'm presenting a talk and five posters, plus three posters that I'll co-author (across two conferences). And just for fun, these conferences are within two weeks of each other this year! That's a lot of conference prep. On top of teaching, supervising honors theses, service, and running a four-month intervention study. (At least two of these activities also could go in the "probably not necessary" bin.)

WHY?? This product-focused mindset was not born merely of ambition, CV building, or the desire for tenure. I love what I do, and I want to discuss it with my clever peers (some of whom I only see at conferences). But this mindset has drawbacks: I spend little time on leisure activities,* I don't read for pleasure very often anymore, I don't travel much,** my house could be a lot cleaner. And I could be healthier. Healthy is the one that gets me these days.

As a clinical health psychologist, I'm well aware of the benefits of a healthy lifestyle, and I do pretty well. I practice a lot of what I preach; I run, I watch what I eat,. But I don't always attend to problems in a timely fashion, which can make the problems worse. Case in point: I've had a chronic, low-grade health problem for years, and in August, I finally went to have it checked out. After a five-month whirlwind of doctors and tests, I recently underwent a (minor) surgical procedure to fix the problem. My first surgery, in fact, so I wasn't sure what to expect. The short version is TIRED. VERY TIRED, NEED TO LIE DOWN, CAN'T GO FAST (physically or mentally). I've had to admit to myself that I cannot, and should not, push myself like I usually do.

What am I doing instead? I leave work by 4:00 and I nap a lot, which still is difficult to believe. I walk on the treadmill, rather than run. And I read. How glorious it is to have time for reading again! Honestly, I forgot how much I love to read. And I joined a reading group - my first one! For the group, which is meeting next week, I already tore through Roxane Gay's Bad Feminist and started Rebecca Solnit's Men Explain Things to Me. Gay's set of essays was particularly familiar, as it articulated something I've long felt but couldn't put words to (a subject for another post). I'm also doing preparatory reading for courses, including texts on gender and illness, neuroscience, and psychotherapy supervision. 

This is your life moment of the new year: Forced relaxation serves as a great reminder to make time for LIFE during the semester.*** One of these days, that message will stick. Let's hope it's in 2016!



*Other than watching Netflix, of course.
**By "much" I mean "at all," unless you count overnights to Philly for work (2 hours away).
***To be fair, all of this (including the surgery) is possible because spring semester hasn't started yet.

The 2015 Wrap-Up

It's that time. The very end of a calendar year, when 95% of people you know will look back on the year and set goals for the next. I look forward to reading all of the academic blog posts about 2015 progress.* I've charted my productivity once or twice per month this  year, so I don't intend for this to be a simple re-hash. As many have observed, blogging has the advantage of allowing for true reflection - as you put your thoughts about previous events on screen, we see patterns or points that we don't see in the moments that events occur. So here is my 2015 reflection.

Productivity Highlight
Due to the variability in publication timelines, I had eight articles published this year. Thus, looking at my CV, 2015 has been my most productive year by far.** But behind the positive outcome, there are several years of frustration; as I look back, I feel the echo of these experiences. These papers written and revised between 2011 and 2015, and were accepted between 2013 and 2015. So they reflect three different affiliations and phases of my career (internship, postdoc, and tenure-track positions). I received, and continue to receive, excellent training mentorship in all of the skills relevant to my job. This is evident from the ability I now have to design, conduct, and publish an intervention study in one calendar year. 

But as we know, getting to that point can be difficult. There is a steep learning curve on scientific writing and publishing, and limited opportunities until you get a firm handle on collecting your own data. As a trainee, the transition from one institution to another presents a range of challenges, even for the most motivated researcher. New mentors and labmates (some of whom are now quite junior, which is novel), and new responsibilities. Importantly, many of these responsibilities have nothing to do with getting your own publications out. Although this is your highest and most pressing priority (for securing a permanent job as quickly as possible), this can seem like an afterthought to supervisors. Many of us understand the intense frustration of this situation. You also may be dealing with completely unfamiliar data sets, some of which come with very little institutional memory for procedural details (due to trainee graduation/turnover). The freedom of a tenure-track position offers sweet relief, and the space to reconnect with genuine love for the work itself.

When I look back at 2015, I see the fruits of my internal labor - the culmination of my struggle to accept a lack of independence and make the best of a difficult situation for me. As noted, I received fantastic training, which I can now fully appreciate and put to use. In addition to the papers that came out this year, I also had several papers and book chapters accepted,*** submitted several more, and made my first foray into the world of federal grant pursuit. Of note, work in each of these areas has involved collaboration with former supervisors. It's wonderful to see so much time and effort finally pay off.

Other Highlights
This year included many other positives:

• I have an amazing group of students who have enjoyed their own achievements this year - acceptance to several medical schools, their own data collection, poster presentations, and internal grant applications, and the development of new and exciting skills. 
• I did my first two radio interviews about my research: Super Human Radio and RadioMD.
• I've begun to collaborate with faculty in other departments and at other institutions, and there are many exciting opportunities on the horizon. 
• I completed the first half of an NIH-sponsored training program in cardiovascular medicine. Though this program, I learned a ton and met an incredible group of young faculty from all over the country. (I also got a two-week, all-expenses-paid Brooklyn experience. And I get another one in June!)
• I reviewed grants for the Northeastern Pennsylvania Komen cancer affiliate, and I'll do this again in January.
• I was invited to join a faculty writing accountability group at my institution, and I've enjoyed many benefits of this experience. 
• Both #AcWriMo and #AcWriAdv reminded me that I love to write, and that writing is better with a community. (And I was featured on one of my favorite blogs, Stylish Academic!)

This is your life moment of the year: It was a great one. Now let's make 2016 great.


*Even though the end of the regular year is only the midpoint of the academic's year, so we have a different type of calendar-year reflection.
**Not that this Google list is correct in terms of dates. Dates here are when the articles were first available online; "published" = out in print version of journal.
***And some rejected, of course. I actually don't know how many of each.

#AcWriMo and Writing Accountability - Nearly There!

A little more than halfway there! It's Day 22 of Academic Writing Month. As I've shared, I'm tracking progress for the blog Stylish Academic and updating on Twitter. I'm also participating in a faculty writing accountability group at my institution. With all of this external accountability, its about time for some deeper-than-140-characters reflection on progress thus far.

As someone who has been moderately productive to date, my interest in external accountability sources is more for the camaraderie than for the kick in the pants. (Though the kick definitely does help!) Specific to AcWriMo, breaking down my goals into concrete product and process steps has been particularly helpful. I teach three courses per semester and each course three days per week, so writing tends to happen in fits and starts, rather than regularly. And it's much too easy for me to prioritize my own work over collaborative work for which I'm not the PI. Probably not that unusual, but it holds up progress on multiple projects - particularly projects that involve undergraduate student co-authors. (Because those do exist.)

This year, I was in a good position to move these projects to the forefront. I submitted an NIH grant and major revisions to a manuscript in October, so I had cleared the way for the more careful thought needed toward the beginning of a manuscript. And I committed - to myself, my writing group, and the AcWriMo community - that I would make progress on two student co-authored manuscripts (in addition to my higher-priority work). Here is where we stand.

The bad news. This month started out well. I set aside time for writing both during the week and on the weekend, and I made it to a coffee shop during the first week. Then I was out of town for a conference; worked a bit while I was there, but picked up some awful throat-based plague from the airplane.* Came home to a raging throat/head cold that resulted in losing my voice for almost a week. In the middle of that week, I had longer-term medical issues to handle. (All VERY unusual for me - I'm pretty healthy!) So my process goal (two hours of writing per day on three days per week, at a coffee shop one day per week) was heavily disrupted during one of only two full weeks during the month. In addition, one of my student co-authors was supposed to make progress on our manuscript while I was gone. He ran into some roadblocks and ended up with no forward movement. That's life - we can't stop the unexpected. Fortunately, I learned a long time ago that flexibility wins the day.

The good news. On the bright side, I submitted an internal grant proposal and an IRB application this month, and my revision was accepted. Moreover, I've accomplished something that I've long struggled to make work for me. Many of us like (and are most productive when we have) large chunks of time to write. Makes sense, as this allows us to become immersed in the project and focused on its needs. With shorter time frames, we barely get our heads back into the project before we have to move on. But as my graduate mentor always told me, the most productive scholars are those who find ways to maximize 15-30 minute blocks for writing. I believed him, though I never saw myself as capable of achieving this zen-like writing flow.

Excited about 45 minutes of
unplanned writing.

In the past two weeks, however, I've done this several times; 30 minutes here, 45 minutes there, 15 minutes on data analysis if need be. I find that this actually minimizes the amount of time necessary to get my head back into the project. The more familiarity I have with the material, the less time it takes to orient myself, and the more I can get done in small chunks. Importantly, I'm also more enthusiastic about the project than I was when I procrastinated on it. This approach has allowed me to come close to finishing the first draft of a student co-authored manuscript, despite interruptions in my schedule. 

Finally, I had the opportunity to give a research presentation to the faculty at my institution yesterday. Preparing for, delivering, and answering questions during this event pulled some threads of my research program into sharper focus. And it seemed to go very well, which got me even more excited about finishing the semester strong.

Toward the AcWriMo finish line. My goals are to continue with my 2/2/2h + 2-at-a-coffee-shop approach for the final week of AcWriMo, focused on finishing that manuscript draft and progressing on a grant application. The second manuscript might have to move back down the priority list if the student isn't able to make progress; I'll help him avoid this as much as I can. Looking forward to the final update in just over a week.

Happy writing!

*Not surprising. Any time you fly to Orlando, you end up on a plane with sick children going to Disney World.

Writing Accountability Follow Up, and Living the Dream

Follow-up on writing accountability. Last time, I wrote in anticipation of our first faculty writing accountability group meeting at my institution. As we have faculty of all levels and backgrounds participating, this session involved each member introducing him/herself, a research project or program, and goals for participating. I really enjoyed listening to my colleagues explain their interests and what they want help with during the program. (I'm a psychologist, so no surprise that I take pleasure in hearing about others' thought processes.)

Interestingly, I noticed that the facilitators described the accountability process as provoking "guilt and shame," which motivates us via avoidance of negative outcomes/negative reinforcement. The science certainly supports this statement, though there is a flip side. I study social comparison, which is inherent in any social activity; I've learned that some people respond positively to negative social experiences (i.e., those that induce guilt and shame), and others don't. And some people respond positively at certain times and negatively at other times. So in my partner- and group-based research, I encourage a mix of tough love, empathy, and positive reinforcement. (The latter actually works best for increasing the frequency of behavior, but the reward has to come quickly.)

As a clinician, I take the role of a cheerleader - I celebrate your success as often as possible (and encourage you to do the same, within reason). You should want to avoid disappointing me, but only if you're equally disappointed in yourself. If not, you won't keep up the behavior without my response. So I'm taking the same approach to my writing group/partner; I'll adjust if it seems as though my partner responds better to tough love.*

We're partnered up based on similar interests and goals, and we'll meet with our partners each week to check in. My partner is a professor of physical therapy who wants some support through finishing a large-scale and long-term research synthesis; I asked her to keep me on track and focused in the face of many, many active projects. Once per month, we'll meet with the whole group to report on our progress and discuss writing more broadly. If all goes well, there will be a writing retreat in the future. So overall, great start! More to come as we hold each other accountable.

Living the dream. In the last week or so, I had two extremely positive experiences related to my academic career. The first came almost at random. It was 7:30 on Monday morning; I was already on campus (as I am on all teaching days), with three classes, office hours, and grant writing ahead of me. (Not unique in this field, for sure.) I went down the hall to make coffee, and as I returned to my office, I looked at my little corner of campus: the name plate on my door, the bulletin board across from my office that displays my research and related news, my lab down the hall. It occurred to me, for the first time in a while, that I have what I worked so hard to get for many years. 

For the better part of a decade, I've worked 60+ hours per week and not taken real vacations, in pursuit of a secure academic position. I've put off some life goals in order to focus on establishing myself in the new position. There always is more to do and always another hurdle (tenure next). But I stopped to appreciate what I've built, and to be grateful for the ability to do what I love. I made it. Not everyone can say that. It was a spontaneous and wonderful moment, and since then, I've tried to return to that mental space whenever I've found myself in need of a boost.

I also had the chance to share this appreciation with the person most responsible for making it happen (other than me) - my graduate mentor. He was in town for the day to do some consulting work, and we met on my campus to catch up and discuss our ongoing projects. I got to give him a tour, show him my space, and walk him through a typical day. This incredibly successful person with a brilliant mind and a prestigious position gave me a chance to work for him ten years ago, and I got to show him the fruits of his labor. It was nerdy, exciting, and humbling all at the same time. 

This is your life moment of the week: There's always something to complain about. Stay connected to what you've accomplished and where you came from; it can remind you why you work as hard as you do.


*This is whole concept is much more complicated than I indicate here; perhaps fodder for a future post on this site or my research blog (drarigo.wordpress.com).

On to Year Two

It's that time. It's tough to believe that a full year has gone by already. The fall semester starts in five days, so it's time to finish up syllabi and make sure the semester research plan is in order. I'm teaching two sections of my regular course (Abnormal Psychology) and a new course for me (Personality & Individual Differences; P-ID). I'm hoping that I'll find myself in a comfortable rhythm with Abnormal and that I'll be able to devote a bit more attention to P-ID. 

The latter is not only new, but intriguing. It's based on the question of "what makes people different?" Meaning that we can cover anything that differs between people, which is A LOT. In addition to the typical personality-related material (theory, testing), I've added content related to gender, body image, optimism, health, regulatory focus, and stress. Then students get to choose constructs that are not covered by the syllabus and present them to the class. The goal is to discuss as many areas of interest as possible, and also to contrast the P-ID approach with a within-person process approach. We'll see how this goes over with undergraduates. No Twitter and no tech tools this time. Though I look forward to using those with my Health Psychology class in the Spring :)

Also, progress. In addition to preparing for courses, there is the necessary "tenure track progress update" to make sure that I'm on target for demonstrating a positive trajectory. It's this piece that I find myself wondering about these days. I have another self-report due at the beginning of October, so I get to start building my case, rather than just summarizing what I've done this year. 

I met the goals I set for myself last year, which seems like a good start. I have real course evaluations and they're pretty good; I have more students participating in research and I'm moving from internal to external grant proposals. That's what I've got so far. More to come when I figure out the rest.

The fun stuff. But before I worry too much about my official paperwork, I'm taking a page out of Nyasha Junior's book and giving myself some off-the-official-record awards. For 2014-2015 (year one), I give myself the following:

10. Most internal grant proposals by a first-year faculty member
9. Best effort to use social media in the classroom (Twitter, "the dress")
8. Most enthusiastic about teaching research methods in every class

This morning's iced coffee.

7. Best attendance at first-year faculty mentoring events (100%, y'all)
6. Best smothering of automatic laughter in response to ridiculous comments
5. Best food at lab meetings
4. Best effort to teach through laryngitis during the first week of class
3. Most trips to the campus Starbucks for 50-cent coffee refills
2. Most recorded "no" responses (to requests for service) from a first-year faculty member
1. Least fearful of speaking up and getting involved (among junior faculty)

Thanks to Nyasha (@NyashaJunior) for this great idea, and to Kevin Gannon (@TheTatooedProf) for his fantastic and welcoming Academic New Year's Resolution post. 

This is your life moment of the week: We all could use a good year, so my goal is to focus on the positive :) And to take a damn vacation.

Taking Back My Summer

Noteworthy progress. In my last post, I described my failure to protect summer vacation/personal time in favor of a long list of commitments. Although most of these commitments are productive and/or enjoyable, their combined requirements do not leave a great deal of time for much-needed relaxation and not working. I'm happy to report that the tide has turned somewhat, just before the next wave of the workload hits. How did this happen, and how can I maintain balance for the remainder of the summer?

Blogging (and otherwise disclosing) helps. Once I acknowledged that I had only myself to blame for my increasing (rather than decreasing) stress, I stepped back and looked at the calendar. I took stock of what I had accomplished to that point in the summer, and how much time was left to work on the rest. I felt relief from realizing that the balance looked much better than I expected. I also asked myself what really needs to be finished this summer, by when, and whether these goals are realistic; what will I lose if I fall behind on X? Finally, I looked ahead to the 2015-2016 academic year and accepted that I cannot take on any additional commitments until next summer. And I started saying no in advance.

Travel helps. My reality-testing process received the assistance of two recent road trips. One was a four-day, combined work/leisure trip. This split left me able to feel good about getting some work done with collaborators in addition to not working and catching up with graduate school friends. Importantly, I made the 2.5-hour commutes alone, so I had time to myself to think and space out as needed. I came back tired from a strange sleep schedule, but more relaxed than I have been in a while. 

Downtown Ludlow

The second trip was more hectic: PA --> VT --> MA --> PA in four days, celebrating a wedding and an engagement. The wedding was lovely and afforded several unique opportunities. I'm not a country girl, and getting away to rural VT was a new experience. Actual country stores that are not operated by Cracker Barrel? I just wish I'd had more time to explore; I was there for less than 24 hours and it rained most of the time. But I also got to reconnect with more graduate school friends, which always leaves me feeling grounded. Then on to MA. As I'm the matron of honor* for the engaged couple (wedding in August of 2016), and as I live several states away from the action, I made an effort to fulfill some role expectations during the trip. As far as I can tell, it worked out well for everyone!

Our resort in Ludlow, VT

During this four-day excursion, I did not work. I checked email only sporadically. I responded only to urgent messages. Very unusual for me. But very healthy. And nothing went wrong without my replies. 

This is your life moment of the week. I returned to work today feeling less stressed than I have in a while, and I was able to complete tasks such as cleaning out my email inbox and writing this post. I also met with our Office of Sponsored Programs about a grant and upgraded another short trip I'm about to take. And I'll end the workday with an exercise class that makes me feel great. This is more like the summer I had planned.

*Matron? Really? Sounds so old....

#NewFaculty: First Year Review (Part 2)

Relief. Spring semester is now officially over, which means that I have even more time and head space to reflect on the first year. As I described in previous posts and Part 1 of this series, it seems that new faculty make one of the following major mistakes:

1. They are unaware of the immense amount of junior faculty-specific information and advice available (see here for a great collection), or
2. They take the trouble to familiarize themselves with this advice, and then they ignore it. For example, never saying "no" to service requests and keeping their doors open all the time, which leave little time for actual work.

Don't get me wrong - I understand the impulse to please new (and powerful) colleagues and to be perceived as a team player. But you simply cannot be productive if you say "yes" to every request. My technique is to ask myself the following:

• Is this an activity I think is important, and/or that I would enjoy?
• What is the actual time commitment? (ASK ASK ASK)
• Do I absolutely need to do this NOW, or can it wait?

The last is critical. My institution has many mechanisms for supporting faculty development, including internal grants, special programs, and service positions for untenured faculty. But my sense is that both my department and our rank and tenure committee want to see progress. If I do everything in my first year or two - especially the opportunities for which new (vs. returning) applicants are favored - what am I going to do after that? So I focus on pacing myself, and on declining some requests as graciously as possible.

What went well? I think that I successfully protected my time (without angering anyone too much) this year. The evidence is in the positive feedback I received and the concrete output I produced. These include:

• Mostly positive teaching evaluations (and useful specific recommendations),*
• An active research lab with many involved undergraduates,
• Acceptance to a competitive and prestigious training institute for junior faculty (paid for by the National Institutes of Health),
• Awards of a Teaching Enhancement Grant (to create a new course) and a Faculty Summer Research Grant (to write papers and a grant; both internal),
• Publication of six empirical articles** (with five more, and two book chapters, in press),
• Attendance at four conferences** (presented one talk and 12 posters, two with current students),
• Data collection completed for two studies (a third approved to begin), and
• Reappointment for a second year.

Though the best evidence may be the limited amount of overwhelming stress I felt this year. There were a few rough periods throughout, but nothing like the previous two years. 

What didn't go so well? This is a fantastic first year, and I'm immensely grateful. But there were some meaningful failures to learn from. Of course I got rejected from several sources: at least three paper rejections (one that I was particularly disappointed about and one that outraged me***), as well as a rejection on an internal fellowship for a student RA. Rejections are always difficult, but I'm more resilient than I used to be. Asking for feedback and carefully considering reviewers' comments are on my agenda.

With respect to teaching, I was a slightly different person in the classroom second semester (vs. first). I tried new techniques and relied more consistently on undergraduate TAs, which made me a bit less confident than I had been previously (when I used only me, and methods I knew to be effective for me). I also created a course in my topic area and went out of my way to make it advanced, different, and fun. Imagine my disappointment when this failed to be the case, pretty consistently.**** Of many reasons for this disconnect, I believe that one was prepping on the go; I spent more time on this course than on the others (which were repeats of first semester), but not as much as I could have. Although course evaluations were much better than I expected, the experience of the class was frustrating. Lots to tweak for next Spring.

And though I've yet to see any evidence of this, there is always the possibility that I chose poorly with respect to service commitments. I've become involved with our union in small ways, which makes me (slightly) visible during difficult contract negotiations; this could come back to bite me if the atmosphere worsens. But I like this work, so I'll stick with it.

This is your life moment of the week: I did it! I navigated the first year and got some work done. Pretty great accomplishment, for me and anyone else in the same boat. Kudos if that's you.

Now it's time to make my Summer Plan.****

*I have a 3/3 load.

**Several of these were with my postdoctoral mentors and lab, which carried over.

***Ever get a reviewer who is obviously unfamiliar with even the basics of your field, and rejects you on this basis?

****Look for posts on these, soon to come!