Things I'd rather not live without

Karina at Aspiring Ecologist is hosting August's Scientiae, a monthly blog carnival dedicated to stories from women in science, technology, and math. Karina's chosen theme for this month is "school supplies"-- stuff we feel is indispensable for the success of our various projects.

Technically, I'm not a student right now, and I'm not currently working in the field or on any specific project. But I'm not far removed from fieldwork, and I still enjoying spending time romping around outdoors, even if I'm not working on research.

Most of my "must have" supplies are derived from the Ten Essentials, a list of ten items generally recommended as necessities for traveling in the backcountry. If you ever work in the field (or do any sorts of recreational activities outdoors) then these ten things should always be in your pack, even for short day hikes. I'll admit I do take some liberties with the list (e.g. I won't take a map for someplace I've been tens of times) but I typically carry everything along. And, of course, I've tailored it to suit my personal style!

1. Map- I prefer self-made maps using a GIS program, like ESRI's ArcGIS. My favorite maps are satellite photos with overlays of important features like roads. Satellite photo-based maps are particularly useful in the field, because oftentimes you can see trails or other geographic features on a photo that would be difficult to find on the ground.
2. Compass- I always carry a compass. It's important not to keep a compass someplace it will get tossed around a lot, or anywhere near electronic equipment-- otherwise it might become uncalibrated. 
3. Sunglasses and sunscreen- What? You want to burn your retinas? Or get melanoma? I never go anywhere without sunglasses. Even if it's overcast.
4. Extra clothing- Unless I know I'm going to be somewhere far from easily accessible roads or local communities, I often won't pack more than a rain jacket and/or hooded sweatshirt. The longer the trip, or the farther from civilization, the more extra clothing I'll carry. I almost always carry a pair of gaiters in my field pack, though. Dead useful for a whole host of situations-- everything from snow to mud to prickly, evil shrubs.
5. Headlamp/flashlight- Er... I don't really carry my headlamp with me all the time. I should.
6. First-aid supplies- I think I have two little first-aid kits in my field pack right now. Adhesive bandages are a necessity.
7. Firestarter- I've never carried a firestarter.
8. Matches- If they're not waterproof, they're not worth having.
9. Knife- I prefer a multitool. Right now I carry a Leatherman Wave. I never go anywhere in the field without a pair of pliers and a knife, and this little piece of engineering has a crapload of other built-in gadgets, too, like a nail file, saw, and both Phillips- and flat-head screw-driving bits. The last thing I used it for? Pulling a frayed shoelace tip (sans aglet) through an eyelet in my trail-running shoes. I never could have done it without those pliers on-hand. You might be surprised how useful these things actually are.
10. Extra Food- Mmmm... trail snacks. I love food, and I always carry a little something extra in my pack, even if I don't plan on eating it. One of my favorite field staples are Primal Strips, a meatless, vegan jerky (I'm vegetarian) that pack easily and have a long shelf-life. They have good texture and provide a lot of protein and a nice dose of salt. My favorite flavors are Hickory Smoked and Texas BBQ, but the Teriyaki and Mesquite Lime are pretty good, too.

That may be all that's recommended on the list of Ten Essentials, but I have a few to add of my own. I rarely go anywhere without...

1. Duct tape- For all the jokes surrounding its innumerable uses, this stuff really has, well... innumerable uses. 
2. Flagging- I'm talking about plastic or fibrous flagging, the kind about an inch in width that comes in a roll. If you need to a) mark a location visually, b) if you find yourself in a tricky, heavily vegetated area in which you don't want to get turned around, or c) if you need to return to a spot for something later on, brightly-colored flagging (neon pink has always worked well for me) tied to a tree branch or shrub is simple and highly effective.
3. Something to write on, and with- I prefer fine-tipped Sharpies and Rite in the Rain notebooks, even if they are a little pricey.
4. GPS- Even though people have been trudging around the wilderness for centuries without technology, I'm really enamored by today's GPS units. They're unbeatable for everything from marking study sites and sampling locations to finding your way around unmarked dirt roads and two-tracks in rural Wyoming. I would have literally been incapable of finishing my workload with the BLM last summer were it not for a trusty Trimble Juno SB.

FMyLife

From my experience, one should always be most aware of impending bad news when things seem to be going smoothest. It's one of those laws of inaccurate perception-- Murphy's law, or the first corollary to Sod's law, or the unspeakable law (techincally, I think in this case it's a combination of the latter two).

See, I was doing just fine and dandy at work on the ranch, making enough money to support myself with just a tiny bit extra to sock away every month, enjoying my new horse-related hobbies, and having enough free time after work to pursue graduate adviser connections, trip planning, and literature review for fellowship applications and research proposals. And then, WHAM!, out of nowhere, "We're going to be making some changes around the barn, and we're going to need to let you go."

What?

Seriously?

Suddenly, inexplicably, my steady, dependable job on the ranch is gone, leaving me with just over four weeks to try and dig up a full-time employment opportunity elsewhere. Admittedly, this terrifies me, as I've been trying (without success) to get an ecology or environmental education-related field job since last November, and I know a couple other people who've been without work for nine months or more now, applying for tens of jobs a week in everything from stocking to retail to answering phones.

And, to add insult to injury, one of my friends at the barn overheard Debbie talking on the phone about me to Marlene, saying something along the lines of, "I don't understand why she just doesn't go to a local school, since it's obvious she's not good enough to get in anywhere else." This really shouldn't bother me much, and to be honest it's more irksome than anything, and I find myself laughing about it (albeit bitterly). It's just frustrating to realize how little the people around me understand about the difficulties of getting into graduate school, the time-intensive application process, and how "didn't get in" is far from synonymous with "can't. "

I was really upset yesterday when I got the news, and I'm still not very happy about it. But I'm trying to view this more as an opportunity to get away from narrow-minded individuals with more money than sense, as opposed to the loss of an entertaining, often fun job with the added benefit of working outside and with animals.

Still... what am I going to do now?

Improving my chances

I've spent the past few months enjoying a weird sort of summer, stuck somewhere between the real world and waiting for my real life to begin. But even as I've done my best to focus on the moment at hand, my ultimate goal has lingered, never very far from my mind. Now, as the 2011 application season approaches, it's finally time for me to start taking steps to help ensure that this time round won't end up like the last.

This includes several things-- frantically editing and putting as much pressure as possible on my undergraduate adviser (and co-author) to publish the results of my senior thesis; reading and brainstorming to come up with (and eventually write-up) a research proposal for another shot at The NSF GRFP; researching other potential forms of funding, such as EPA STAR and IGERT fellowships; trying to find additional prospective advisers; and, last but not least, following up on advice (to increase my chances) that I received from professors whose labs I applied to last year.

Although I chose not to email professors and ask upfront, "Why wasn't I accepted?", I did email several professors at the beginning of the summer to let them know about my continued interest in their labs and my intent to reapply this fall. Most wrote back, and a couple of them offered suggestions about reapplying. I also spoke with several professors at ASM about the application process, and all their suggestions were more or less the same-- if at all possible, visit campuses and meet with prospective advisers in person.

None of the professors I applied to work with said anything about my credentials. No one suggested I get additional research experience, improve my test scores, or get that paper published. But every single one of them encouraged me to visit their labs sometime in the fall. So that's what I plan on doing.

In truth, I've known this was good advice from the start. My undergraduate advisers all strongly suggested I do so, and most of the literature I've read about applying to grad school in the sciences highly recommends visiting campuses before applying. Last year, because of my work with the BLM, my finances, and the sheer distance of Newcastle to any discernible form of long-distance transportation, I was unable to make any headway on meeting potential advisers. This year however, my job at the ranch allows me enough flexibility to take some time to go campus hopping.

For the last couple weeks, I've been trying to plan out a visit to as many campuses as possible in the shortest amount of time. Although my work schedule is flexible, I'll still be taking time off work-- not making money while simultaneously spending it on things like travel costs and food. I've worked it out now to where I think I can visit four campuses (and, should everything work out, five to eight advisers) in seven days. This is turning out to be somewhat of a logistical nightmare, as I'm planning on relying solely on public transportation to get around, and planning things like shuttles, bus rides, and trams in advance isn't nearly as easy as it seems.

My trip is planned for the end of September, and it's officially in the works now, as I purchased plane tickets online last night. Visiting only four campuses is far from ideal. If I had the time and the money, I'd likely add another five or six schools to my list, but for right now this is the best I can do. I can only hope now that a.) I actually will get to meet with the professors and b.) the time, effort, and money I put into this trip won't go to waste, and I'll make enough good impressions to have some of these advisers go to bat for me when the time comes for admissions decisions to be made.

Round Two

And so it begins. Again.

The 2011-2012 application season is here. "Now wait," you might be thinking. "Applications won't even be accepted by most schools until September, at the earliest! What do you mean the application season is here?"

Ah, but you're forgetting, aren't you? Applying to graduate school in the sciences isn't quite like the process for other fields. I have to find an adviser willing to take me on as a student before I even think about applying to a school. This is a tedious process, and one I'm not enjoying any more this year than I did last year.

Last year I contacted a total of 35 individuals via email, expressing interest in their research and inquiring whether they were in a position to accept new graduate students.  Of those, I received positive responses from roughly 10 people.  These professors were suitably pleased with my research experiences and academic background, had or expected to receive funding for upcoming projects, and were interested in taking on a new student.  I continued to correspond with each of these ten individuals on and off throughout autumn.  When it came time for me to apply to schools proper, I selected the most promising of those ten people, and applied to the institutions at which they work, for a total (ultimately) of 7 applications.

You see, several of those initial responses turned out to have come from people who, after continued correspondence, seemed less than an ideal match over time. The more I communicated with those three particular individuals, the more I realized that our research interests didn't particularly overlap as well as I'd imagined, or that our personalities didn't mesh well and would likely lead to problems over time.

Regardless, I applied to 7 schools. And was summarily rejected from each.

So now the process begins anew. I would love for the process to be as easy as re-contacting those 35 individuals from last year and asking, again, if they're in a position to accept students. But it's not quite that simple. Some of these individuals I've contacted again (6). Some I haven't, because of some slight shifting in my research interests and intended foci. In these cases, my research interests and those of my first-round contacts no longer overlap (12).

Of the ten individuals I corresponded with in a positive fashion last year: The three I decided not to pursue in applications were already crossed off my list (15). One of the seven I applied to work with never communicated with me again, despite repeated efforts. He's nixed, too (16). One is no longer accepting new students (17). One I met in person at the ASM conference and found out was a total asshat (18). One works at a school which has, I've decided, a more evolutionary-based focus (as opposed to an applied ecological focus) than I'd like (19). Three I've kept in contact with and will re-apply to work with this year (22).

The others? Of my 35 original, first-round contacts, six never responded to my inquiries, despite several well-spaced, polite, repeated requests (28). Three will not accept students without a master's degree, and although I appreciate the benefits of getting an MSc first, I'd really like to go straight to PhD (31). Three were at or nearing retirement (34), and one had recently moved from a domestic institution to a small, obscure school in the far reaches of a foreign country (35).

So that leaves, in total, 9 individuals I can contact again about graduate school opportunities, which isn't anywhere near enough. I've already heard back from four that aren't accepting new students. That leaves most of my available free time to scouring the internet, reading recent research papers and digging through departmental websites, trying to find and make additional contacts with potential advisers.

It's a pain, and I really wish I'd open up my inbox one of these days to bright shafts of lights and angel choirs to find a message saying, "Yes, I'll absolutely take you on as a student next year. You're perfect for my lab!" instead of the all-too-brief and somewhat depressing, "not enough funding", "not accepting students", "going on sabbatical", or "Thanks for your interest, but..." phrases that typically catch my eye.

Hopefully, in the end, this whole process will be worth the effort, and I'll end up with a wonderful, interactive, and supportive graduate adviser.