The first large field experiment I did by myself was stressful, but in retrospect was easily accomplished. I used my undergraduate adviser, Walt's, connections to set up field sites and get access to information. He provided all the equipment I needed, and handled the necessary permits. I purchased a few things, did the ground work and set-up, and conducted the research myself, but most of the logistics were left to Walt.
I'm learning now just how much effort all those logistics require. I've spent month nurturing contacts and trying to network. I've spoken to countless people on the phone and through email. Permit applications are no joke. Trying to line up equipment and all the bits and pieces that go along with that? A nightmare. Getting permission through the University to do the work? A pain in the butt. Making travel plans, packing everything, trying to anticipate my needs for four months in the field in a relatively remote location? Holy cow. Grant applications to cover the costs of travel, equipment, housing, analyses? Ridiculous.
For a while, it seemed as if every time I'd cross something off my check-list, I'd add two or three additional things. The closer I get to leaving, the more I wonder whether I've really taken care of everything I need to before leaving. It will be difficult, but not impossible, to trouble shoot once I get there, but if I've forgotten or neglected anything major, I'll be in trouble!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Going Solo
When I finally made the decision about where to conduct my pilot study, I never imagined I'd be traveling so far from home, for such a long time. In just a few days, I'll be leaving to head off to Farawayville for four months of fieldwork. Yikes! Four months, and just at the end of my first year of grad school. If things go well, this season should help me complete my PhD program within five years. If things don't go so well, I could be at my PhD for a year longer than anticipated.
This is one of those situations where I wish my adviser, Paul, would provide a bit more... advice. I'm still not quite sure what he thinks about my trip or the questions this pilot study will attempt to answer. I would hope that, if it were a really terrible idea, or if it weren't worth my time, he'd tell me not to go, right?
I've been thinking lately about putting together my advising committee, and trying to get the pieces to fit in terms of both research interests and personalities. I have Paul. He's hands-off, demanding, and realistic. I need to find the best way to complement those traits. I have three other spots to fill. I'd like a cheerleader, or at least someone who is always excited about what I've been learning and encourages me to keep going, even when I'm concerned or feeling low. Maybe a go-to analysis person, too. Someone I can always ask about my data and how to really get the most out of it. Most importantly, I'd like a mentor, whom I can count on for advice and guidance. Paul clearly isn't going to fill that role.
The one thing I've learned about graduate school, and quite possibly the most important lesson from my first year: No one is going to help you with anything.
This is one of those situations where I wish my adviser, Paul, would provide a bit more... advice. I'm still not quite sure what he thinks about my trip or the questions this pilot study will attempt to answer. I would hope that, if it were a really terrible idea, or if it weren't worth my time, he'd tell me not to go, right?
I've been thinking lately about putting together my advising committee, and trying to get the pieces to fit in terms of both research interests and personalities. I have Paul. He's hands-off, demanding, and realistic. I need to find the best way to complement those traits. I have three other spots to fill. I'd like a cheerleader, or at least someone who is always excited about what I've been learning and encourages me to keep going, even when I'm concerned or feeling low. Maybe a go-to analysis person, too. Someone I can always ask about my data and how to really get the most out of it. Most importantly, I'd like a mentor, whom I can count on for advice and guidance. Paul clearly isn't going to fill that role.
The one thing I've learned about graduate school, and quite possibly the most important lesson from my first year: No one is going to help you with anything.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Indulgence
In life, I've always appreciated having something to care for. I loved my pets growing up, and was thrilled to keep pet rats through college and the years afterward. My life has just never seemed complete without a small, furry companion along for the ride.
When the last of my male rats, Rizado, died at the end of January, I planned to hold off on getting new pets for the foreseeable future. At that point, I wasn't sure where I was going to do my fieldwork, or even, as a new TA, whether my schedule could handle a full course load, teaching, grading, and the enormous responsibility of caring for an animal.
So I let it sit. For a while, I was perfectly content with it. I missed the rats, and having a companion, but it was nice in some ways to be able to stay out late or have the freedom to travel for a few days without worrying about the pets needing attention. I live in a small apartment. I work a lot. I'm busy.
Several weeks went by. Winter turned to spring. The weather improved. I was busy, but my TA schedule did leave enough time for other things, when I planned correctly. I missed exercising-- running and being outside, and tried to convince myself to get out more. I made my decisions about fieldwork. I planned for the summer.
One day in early spring, a few weeks before spring break, I was riding the bus to campus. The weather was nice. Trees were starting to bloom. I was thinking about school. And suddenly, as if from nowhere, I was overcome with the sense that something was missing, and thought, I want a dog.
I've wanted a dog for years. Possibly decades. I loved the dog my family had when I was growing up. I was an in-home pet sitter for tens of people from the time I turned 10 until I had a fully-fledged, year-round business as a teenager. I worked at a dog boarding kennel. I volunteered at the animal shelter. I trained my friends' dogs basic commands, and later, the sport of dog agility.
I wanted a dog.
I dismissed the idea, as I had hundreds of times before. Too busy. Not enough space. Not the right time. Too expensive. What a silly idea. Maybe in a couple years, after I've finished classes.
But I couldn't shake it.
I gradually shifted from thinking, wouldn't it be nice to have a dog? to I need one. Turns out the site where I'd chosen to do my fieldwork was more or less dog-friendly. Students working in the area in previous years had brought their own dogs along. My apartment was dog-friendly. It would be safer for me to hike, camp, and travel with a dog. There will never be a 'right time.'
I started looking. Casually at first, and then with increasing seriousness. I looked a hundreds of dogs online. I visited 10 or 20 in person at local shelters. I wanted something active but mellow. I wanted an adult dog, on the smaller side of large. I liked things about them all, but each time, something held me back. Spring break came and went. I visited more dogs, but never made the decision to take one home. This one was nice, but too fearful. This one was confident, but too small. This one probably wouldn't be great with kids. This one wasn't good with other dogs. This one fixated on other animals. This one seemed great, but... not quite right, somehow. Better move on and look at something else.
I got to the point where I started wondering if I really did want a dog, since I couldn't seem to be able to actually pick one. Maybe it wasn't a great idea after all, and my subconscious was telling me so by keeping me from bringing one home. I sent out feeler emails to local shelters. One night, I spotted a particularly cute herding mix nearby. I emailed the organization about him. Could I meet him?
Nope. Sorry-- he'd already been adopted. But if I was interested in a herding mix, what about this guy? A puppy, teenager, really, recently saved from euthanasia at a high-kill county shelter nearby. Picked up as a stray, not claimed or adopted after two weeks. Fearful of some people, loud noises, other dogs. Just neutered. Probably not ready to go to a home yet, but you look like you have a lot of experience so maybe you'll foster him and try him out?
I went to meet him. I don't know what I was thinking. A puppy? Fearful? Not adopted after two weeks? I'd love to say that when I did meet him the skies opened up and sunshine rained down while angel choirs sung beautiful melodies because I'd found the perfect dog. In truth, I liked him, and he looked like he might work, but he was still clearly a puppy. Clumsy, excitable, goofy, still mouthy. However, unlike all the other dogs I'd met with, this time I didn't feel the uncertainty, the sense that something wasn't right, when I met him. Call it intuition, perhaps. I agreed to foster him for a week.
I brought him home. In the car, he fell asleep with his head in my lap. I introduced him to my landlord's dog. He licked her all over, fell into a play bow, and danced around. I brought him to my friend's house, and introduced him to their lab. Same thing. They ran and chased and wrestled for hours. He met people on the street, in my program, at my house. He greeted everyone like a long-lost best friend. He rode in my car. He learned to heel within 15 minutes. He came when I whistled. He laid down underneath the table at a dog-friendly bar with 50 other people and dogs and kids running around at happy hour on the fifth day I had him, like he'd been doing it for years. He relaxed while I was working, went running and hiking and to the dog park, stayed quiet and slept while I was away from the apartment, stayed nearby when let off-leash.
At the end of the week, I emailed the rescue organization. "I would be a fool to give this dog up."
In the weeks since I've had him, he's made friends with everyone I know, and all of their pets. He chases cats, but obeys when told to stay away. He goes nearly everywhere with me. He's crate-trained, and now knows sit, down, stay, come, shake, wave, sit pretty, spin, roll over, play dead, touch, crawl, jump, leave it, quiet, quit, and drop, and is getting ready for basic agility. He's learning to chase a frisbee and retrieve a ball. He'll wait patiently in the car or tied outside while I run errands. He follows me like a shadow.
Best. Decision. Ever.
When the last of my male rats, Rizado, died at the end of January, I planned to hold off on getting new pets for the foreseeable future. At that point, I wasn't sure where I was going to do my fieldwork, or even, as a new TA, whether my schedule could handle a full course load, teaching, grading, and the enormous responsibility of caring for an animal.
So I let it sit. For a while, I was perfectly content with it. I missed the rats, and having a companion, but it was nice in some ways to be able to stay out late or have the freedom to travel for a few days without worrying about the pets needing attention. I live in a small apartment. I work a lot. I'm busy.
Several weeks went by. Winter turned to spring. The weather improved. I was busy, but my TA schedule did leave enough time for other things, when I planned correctly. I missed exercising-- running and being outside, and tried to convince myself to get out more. I made my decisions about fieldwork. I planned for the summer.
One day in early spring, a few weeks before spring break, I was riding the bus to campus. The weather was nice. Trees were starting to bloom. I was thinking about school. And suddenly, as if from nowhere, I was overcome with the sense that something was missing, and thought, I want a dog.
I've wanted a dog for years. Possibly decades. I loved the dog my family had when I was growing up. I was an in-home pet sitter for tens of people from the time I turned 10 until I had a fully-fledged, year-round business as a teenager. I worked at a dog boarding kennel. I volunteered at the animal shelter. I trained my friends' dogs basic commands, and later, the sport of dog agility.
I wanted a dog.
I dismissed the idea, as I had hundreds of times before. Too busy. Not enough space. Not the right time. Too expensive. What a silly idea. Maybe in a couple years, after I've finished classes.
But I couldn't shake it.
I gradually shifted from thinking, wouldn't it be nice to have a dog? to I need one. Turns out the site where I'd chosen to do my fieldwork was more or less dog-friendly. Students working in the area in previous years had brought their own dogs along. My apartment was dog-friendly. It would be safer for me to hike, camp, and travel with a dog. There will never be a 'right time.'
I started looking. Casually at first, and then with increasing seriousness. I looked a hundreds of dogs online. I visited 10 or 20 in person at local shelters. I wanted something active but mellow. I wanted an adult dog, on the smaller side of large. I liked things about them all, but each time, something held me back. Spring break came and went. I visited more dogs, but never made the decision to take one home. This one was nice, but too fearful. This one was confident, but too small. This one probably wouldn't be great with kids. This one wasn't good with other dogs. This one fixated on other animals. This one seemed great, but... not quite right, somehow. Better move on and look at something else.
I got to the point where I started wondering if I really did want a dog, since I couldn't seem to be able to actually pick one. Maybe it wasn't a great idea after all, and my subconscious was telling me so by keeping me from bringing one home. I sent out feeler emails to local shelters. One night, I spotted a particularly cute herding mix nearby. I emailed the organization about him. Could I meet him?
Nope. Sorry-- he'd already been adopted. But if I was interested in a herding mix, what about this guy? A puppy, teenager, really, recently saved from euthanasia at a high-kill county shelter nearby. Picked up as a stray, not claimed or adopted after two weeks. Fearful of some people, loud noises, other dogs. Just neutered. Probably not ready to go to a home yet, but you look like you have a lot of experience so maybe you'll foster him and try him out?
I went to meet him. I don't know what I was thinking. A puppy? Fearful? Not adopted after two weeks? I'd love to say that when I did meet him the skies opened up and sunshine rained down while angel choirs sung beautiful melodies because I'd found the perfect dog. In truth, I liked him, and he looked like he might work, but he was still clearly a puppy. Clumsy, excitable, goofy, still mouthy. However, unlike all the other dogs I'd met with, this time I didn't feel the uncertainty, the sense that something wasn't right, when I met him. Call it intuition, perhaps. I agreed to foster him for a week.
I brought him home. In the car, he fell asleep with his head in my lap. I introduced him to my landlord's dog. He licked her all over, fell into a play bow, and danced around. I brought him to my friend's house, and introduced him to their lab. Same thing. They ran and chased and wrestled for hours. He met people on the street, in my program, at my house. He greeted everyone like a long-lost best friend. He rode in my car. He learned to heel within 15 minutes. He came when I whistled. He laid down underneath the table at a dog-friendly bar with 50 other people and dogs and kids running around at happy hour on the fifth day I had him, like he'd been doing it for years. He relaxed while I was working, went running and hiking and to the dog park, stayed quiet and slept while I was away from the apartment, stayed nearby when let off-leash.
At the end of the week, I emailed the rescue organization. "I would be a fool to give this dog up."
In the weeks since I've had him, he's made friends with everyone I know, and all of their pets. He chases cats, but obeys when told to stay away. He goes nearly everywhere with me. He's crate-trained, and now knows sit, down, stay, come, shake, wave, sit pretty, spin, roll over, play dead, touch, crawl, jump, leave it, quiet, quit, and drop, and is getting ready for basic agility. He's learning to chase a frisbee and retrieve a ball. He'll wait patiently in the car or tied outside while I run errands. He follows me like a shadow.
Best. Decision. Ever.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Catching Up
It's funny how things that used to seem so simple and trivial (like writing a blog post) become monumental tasks in graduate school. Most of the problem lies in lack of motivation, time constraints, and... well, lack of motivation. I'm busy! I have other, more pressing things going on! I swear I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. But there are many things that have happened this semester that I feel will likely pull me away from blogging anonymously until I can figure out a way to limit my posts to a short, reasonable length that can be written quickly for more frequent updates.
When I write, I like to write a lot, and I do so sporadically. What results are infrequent, lengthy posts that take a long time to compose. Since they take a long time to write, I need a bit of time set aside to write them. Time that, for various reasons, I no longer have. I'm going to do my best to update more frequently this summer and fall, but that might not happen. For now, I'm going to say thank-you to those of you that have stuck with me this far, and promise that, although I may not write anything new for weeks (or months...) at a time, I won't fully abandon this, and I'll do my best to learn to write smaller, more regular posts.
So, what's been keeping me from updating? Well, graduate school is one thing. I finished my first year of graduate school, and if that hasn't kept me busy nothing in life ever will. (In case you were wondering, it has.) Then, the house in which I was renting an apartment was sold unexpectedly, and the buyers decided they no longer wanted tenants. I was forced to move out given short notice, which was made more complicated by the fact that I'm gearing up for a four month-long field trip, and couldn't find short-term housing between moving out a couple weeks ago and leaving a couple weeks from now.
Preparing for the field trip has eaten up a lot of my time. Getting my supplies and plans together hasn't been easy. I've been applying for grants to cover my travel and field expenses, and just recently was successful enough to secure my first decent grant. That's gone far more smoothly than I imagined, but it was close for a while-- I wasn't sure I was even going to be able to go. And making contacts, trying to put together methods, gathering equipment, and trying to find someone to help me out in the field has been far from easy, especially where my 'hands-off' graduate adviser is concerned. I still have no idea if Paul feels this trip is worthwhile or if any of my goals are feasible or research questions interesting. Since he's out of the country now for several months and isn't answering emails, I still don't know, and evidently won't find out. I'll leave before he gets back, and won't see him again until- yikes!- December.
I'm finally at a place where I have a little bit of free time, so I decided I had to sit down and catch up on blog posts. I'm going to do my best today to write several entries which I'll post intermittently over the next several weeks. I'm hoping to write at least three, in addition to this. That is, if my dog will ever leave me alone.
Oh, right. I got a dog, too.
Yeah. Busy. :)
When I write, I like to write a lot, and I do so sporadically. What results are infrequent, lengthy posts that take a long time to compose. Since they take a long time to write, I need a bit of time set aside to write them. Time that, for various reasons, I no longer have. I'm going to do my best to update more frequently this summer and fall, but that might not happen. For now, I'm going to say thank-you to those of you that have stuck with me this far, and promise that, although I may not write anything new for weeks (or months...) at a time, I won't fully abandon this, and I'll do my best to learn to write smaller, more regular posts.
So, what's been keeping me from updating? Well, graduate school is one thing. I finished my first year of graduate school, and if that hasn't kept me busy nothing in life ever will. (In case you were wondering, it has.) Then, the house in which I was renting an apartment was sold unexpectedly, and the buyers decided they no longer wanted tenants. I was forced to move out given short notice, which was made more complicated by the fact that I'm gearing up for a four month-long field trip, and couldn't find short-term housing between moving out a couple weeks ago and leaving a couple weeks from now.
Preparing for the field trip has eaten up a lot of my time. Getting my supplies and plans together hasn't been easy. I've been applying for grants to cover my travel and field expenses, and just recently was successful enough to secure my first decent grant. That's gone far more smoothly than I imagined, but it was close for a while-- I wasn't sure I was even going to be able to go. And making contacts, trying to put together methods, gathering equipment, and trying to find someone to help me out in the field has been far from easy, especially where my 'hands-off' graduate adviser is concerned. I still have no idea if Paul feels this trip is worthwhile or if any of my goals are feasible or research questions interesting. Since he's out of the country now for several months and isn't answering emails, I still don't know, and evidently won't find out. I'll leave before he gets back, and won't see him again until- yikes!- December.
I'm finally at a place where I have a little bit of free time, so I decided I had to sit down and catch up on blog posts. I'm going to do my best today to write several entries which I'll post intermittently over the next several weeks. I'm hoping to write at least three, in addition to this. That is, if my dog will ever leave me alone.
Oh, right. I got a dog, too.
Yeah. Busy. :)
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