My final year of graduate school started in the fall of 2015. As I reviewed the long list of graduation requirements I had to meet before my defense in May, I laughed out loud.
I was required to submit a paper, attend conferences, and take certain classes. I had to give at least three presentations in front of our department. But there wasn’t a single community outreach or service requirement on this long list. In other words, to get a Ph.D., I only had to talk to other academics. This reflected my academic experience in a nutshell.
Despite the fact that most of my fellow Ph.D. students would go on to leave academia, careers outside the lab were considered “alternative careers.” Our training focused on gathering data, publishing, and applying for grant money. Those interested in public service, outreach, or communication were primarily left to fend for themselves.
While the lack of institutional support was challenging, what I remember most from that time was feeling like I was less of a scientist because I was leaving the lab. When I told my advisor I didn’t want to continue as a research scientist after graduate school, she was understanding but disappointed. I remember her saying something about how I would be her first Ph.D. graduate who wouldn’t continue on to a postdoc. To her credit, she immediately recognized that I needed to start gaining skills outside the lab to find a job after graduation. We made a deal that I would still spend the majority of my time in the lab, but otherwise, I would be free to pursue whatever else I wanted.
It only took one week of volunteering in a museum to learn that I didn’t have the skills or confidence to teach children (one of them told me I had “old person shoes,” and I still think about that moment to this day). I tried my hands at podcasting and community outreach events and eventually developed a science communications course taught at the university to this day. Approaching my final year, I applied for a fellowship through the NIH to intern at the NPR science desk in Washington, D.C. Following graduation, I joined the NPR science desk as a fledgling producer. Within three years, I was the founding host of NPR’s daily science podcast, Short Wave. After more than 300 episodes, I left NPR to work as a freelance journalist, consultant, and teacher. I have made my career path outside of academia and am writing this hoping that something I have learned can help others. Each career path is unique and stems from the privileges we hold. That being said, when I was in graduate school, not sure what to do, it was always helpful to hear people candidly talk about their experiences and share what they wished they’d known while they were going through it. I hope that I can do that for you.
So, first things first…
It’s really okay to leave:
A long career in academia is not for everyone. We make more academics than we have institutions to house them. You are not a failure for wanting to leave; you have identified a career path or environment that is not right for you, and you are going elsewhere. The good news is you can still build your career or hobbies around science without having to write grants until you decompose. In my case, I felt like leaving research was “leaving science” when, in reality, I was stepping into a role that would allow me to bring science into hundreds of thousands of lives on a regular basis. However, spending time outside of your primary academic responsibilities may create conflict with your advisor and lab mates. For me, it was a balance of what I felt was my responsibility to myself and my lab. Looking back, I wish I had prioritized myself more than I did. I was trying to leave academia on my own. My boss and lab mates were choosing to stay within that system, so they inherently had more support.
Leaving academia will be much easier if you…
Find your community & joy
Community is key to surviving any institution. When I started looking into science communication as a skillset and career path, I didn’t know many other folks who took it as seriously as their biomedical research. By the time I left, I was surrounded by people who understood that communicating science was integral to being a great scientist, independent of your career path. Approaching department heads for funding was much easier with a cross-department coalition of scientists advocating together. Much of your work “outside academia” will not be incentivized or compensated. So you must find things you enjoy and do them with people who inspire and delight you. I started the podcast because I wanted to learn a new skill, but I kept doing it because my co-host Karl Smith was funny and weird, and I liked making him giggle into a microphone.
Outside of Rochester, I found online networks of fellow student science communicators like ComSciComm to organize with. I was brought to tears at a queer mixer during my very first SACNAS conference, which fundamentally changed the way I think about identity and community in scientific spaces.
Once you have your community, it’s time to…
Seek mentorship & network
For those set on leaving academia, finding effective mentorship requires some creativity. Within the academic space, I looked to scientists who had worked in industry or law to guide me. I contacted folks in professional development and the press office to help me gain communication skills. However, my most strategic mentors in graduate school came from outside academia. A few years into graduate school, then-NPR science correspondent Joe Palca came to give a talk about science journalism. After the talk, I fired questions at him until he asked me if I would like to give him a tour of the undergraduate campus and talk about journalism. I had never been on the undergraduate campus, but I immediately agreed. My fake tour began a relationship that would help me break into science journalism.
Around the same time, I sought informational interviews with as many people in the science communication space as possible. One of those people was Liz Neeley, who worked at a science communication training company then. Liz now runs a company called Liminal, and she remains one of my life’s most important personal and professional relationships. It all started with a cold call more than a decade ago.
Luckily, there are more places than ever to find accessible remote mentorship in academic spaces. Vanguard STEM has brought together an empowered community of Black and Indigenous girls, women & non-binary people of color in STEM. You could look into the Yale Ciencia Academy if you graduate within a few years. The Metcalf Institute of Rhode Island offers a variety of workshops and conferences for those focused on inclusive science communication.
The best networking advice I have is to keep track of everyone you talk to in a professional context. You never know which encounter could lead to an opportunity in the future. This can be as simple as jotting down a few notes on your phone when you meet someone and putting them into a database later. Be intentional and strategic in your networking. While networking with as many people as possible at a conference can have advantages, I do not find it as effective as reaching out to someone you have looked into with genuine curiosity and knowledge of their work. Also, I find it exhausting.
And remember, when you’re networking…
Look for skills, not your next job
Visualizing the future can be daunting, especially for those of us with neurodivergent brains. If you generally know what you want to do but don’t have a specific job in mind, that’s normal and okay! Don’t let the lack of a perfect future job idea keep you stuck. You probably have an idea of the general skills you will need in your desired field, and that’s all you need to know for now.
In my case, I did not aim to host a science podcast while I was sitting alone in the darkroom trying to figure out my life. I just knew I wanted to talk about science with non-academic audiences. So, I started doing outreach in bars and farmers’ markets. As I dove more into scientific communication, I became aware of the tremendous potential of scientific storytelling. So, I co-developed a podcast where my friends and colleagues told their favorite real-life science stories. Eventually, all these skills helped me when I got to NPR.
Most importantly, thinking about my career as a set of skills has helped me divorce my identity from any singular job. It has helped me move towards pouring energy into my community and family instead of an extractive company or academic institution. It has helped me realize my value comes from my skills, perspective, and the communities around me. And that’s true no matter what happens with my career.
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