No, you haven't misread the title of this post. "Round 4" is accurate. It's not referring to the number of drafts I've gone through, or the number of topic changes, either. It's referring to the actual number of times I've now applied for the National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship.
Let's recap, shall we?
2010: Applied, and received an honorable mention
2011: Applied, and my application was not reviewed, as one of my references failed to submit a recommendation letter on time. I was working in the field the weeks preceding and following the due date, with no access to the Internet or phone service. Interestingly, this was the year that recommendation letters were due the same day as proposals-- I wonder how many other letter-writers were "thrown" by this change. This was before the NSF included the option to list fourth and fifth "backup" references.
2012: Applied, and received an honorable mention
2013: Applied.
It's a good thing that the NSF doesn't place a limit on number of attempts made by a single applicant. I'm lucky enough that, at the beginning of my second year in graduate school, I'm still eligible for the award. But the thought that this is my last remaining year to apply for the GRF weighed heavily on me as I wrote this year's proposal.
In years past, I have felt confident about my proposals, but less so about my personal statements and research background essays. Reviews from the two occasions on which my proposals were read by the NSF were not terribly helpful, but at least one reviewer in each case suggested strengthening and/or elaborating on proposed outreach activities.
This year, I found that the proposal itself was the most difficult to write. I initially found this strange, as I have an actual dissertation project now, and actual data from an actual field season. I've just finished my first season in the field (which, apart from a couple small snafus, was a resounding success). You'd think that, with real data in hand and at least a broad conceptualization of the way the work will continue, it would be easier to write a stellar proposal. But real data are messy, pilot data aren't necessarily indicative of larger trends (particularly with small sample sizes), and it turns out that trying to condense an actual dissertation project into two pages is far more difficult than trying to condense a potential dissertation topic into a short length.
I ran through eight different approaches, with multiple drafts of three or four of those. The proposal I finally chose to submit was not, in my opinion, the strongest it could have been. I'm still not sure that the flow among background information, hypotheses, and methods is appropriate, and I worry that the broader scientific impacts (the most interesting aspects of the study) will be lost in the minutiae I was forced to include toward intellectual merit. :\
There's no use worrying about it now, though. It's out of my hands, and into the reviewers' (hopefully), and it remains to be seen how they will judge the work.
The one thing I do feel good about? Outreach and broader (societal) impacts. This past year I've begun an outreach/science education project that already has a fairly large following, and wrote a manuscript on the work that was recently accepted to a well-respected journal. My personal statement dealt almost entirely with this process, as well as my plans to continue and improve upon the work. Between that, an additional field season under my belt (one geared toward my dissertation work), and a couple additional presentations, my personal statement and research background essays felt pretty strong. Go figure.
All this has just further illustrated for me the idiosyncratic nature of the GRFP, which I know will only be enhanced by the random draw of reviewers who ultimately read and judge my proposal. If they've had a bad day or have some internal bias against my topic, study system, writing style-- anything-- they may not see fit to rank it highly. If they happen to be specialists in my particular field, they may see the inherent flaws in my proposal, and, again, not see fit to rank it highly. If they are not specialists within my field, and can see the broader merit in the ideas and proposed application and data analysis, perhaps I have a shot at it.
Only time will tell, and I'll find out, again, in late March or April. The past three attempts have taught me not to get my hopes up. I could really use a GRF (as if anyone couldn't!), particularly because my fieldwork needs to take place in autumn, a prime time for teaching assistantships, and not something that will be easy to work around if I don't receive some form of external support.
Will this be my year, finally? Will my fourth go-round prove that I really am a worthy candidate for a GRF? Or will I again get handed an honorable mention (or worse, nothing), and have to walk away knowing that, even after FOUR attempts, I still couldn't pass muster?
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Logistics
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!
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 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. :)
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Reviews
Today the NSF released the reviewers' comment for the 2012 GRFP applications. I received a total of four 'excellent' ratings (all three reviewers labeled the intellectual merit 'excellent', and the third reviewer labeled broader impacts 'excellent' as well). The first reviewer thought my broader impacts were 'very good' and the second reviewer simply thought my broader impacts were 'good', and stated that he/she didn't feel I was specific enough with exactly how I planned to implement my proposed community service projects.
This is extremely frustrating, as the other two reviewers did not seem to feel that specificity was at all an issue, and all three felt the intellectual merit was 'excellent.' I'm almost positive now that the single 'good' rating was the one that kept my proposal from being funded. I imagine that if that one reviewer had classified broader impacts as 'very good,' I would have ended up with three wonderful years of funding as opposed to a second honorable mention and yet ANOTHER impending round of GRF applications.
If possible, I almost feel worse now than I did when I received the initial notification of my standing. Additionally, the only real 'constructive' criticism provided was by the second reviewer's 'good' rating for broader impacts. That reviewer stated that the mechanisms by which I would implement my proposed community outreach should be included. Space is SO limited in these proposals that I couldn't have included that information if I'd tried.
But I suppose I'll have to include it next year, if I want a shot at actually receiving an award.
This is extremely frustrating, as the other two reviewers did not seem to feel that specificity was at all an issue, and all three felt the intellectual merit was 'excellent.' I'm almost positive now that the single 'good' rating was the one that kept my proposal from being funded. I imagine that if that one reviewer had classified broader impacts as 'very good,' I would have ended up with three wonderful years of funding as opposed to a second honorable mention and yet ANOTHER impending round of GRF applications.
If possible, I almost feel worse now than I did when I received the initial notification of my standing. Additionally, the only real 'constructive' criticism provided was by the second reviewer's 'good' rating for broader impacts. That reviewer stated that the mechanisms by which I would implement my proposed community outreach should be included. Space is SO limited in these proposals that I couldn't have included that information if I'd tried.
But I suppose I'll have to include it next year, if I want a shot at actually receiving an award.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Yet again....
Early this morning, the National Science Foundation notified applicants of the results of their Graduate Research Fellowship bid. I awoke this morning to an email in my inbox notifying me that, regrettably, the NSF will not be able to offer me an award this year, that I have been awarded (yet another) Honorable Mention (which is supposedly a "significant achievement".... right), and that reviewer's comments will be available in three business days. I will be interested to see what the reviewers had to say, and if there is anything that's actually constructive that I'll be able to use to improve my application for next year.
Yep, that's right. Next year. Since this is my first year of graduate school and I will have not yet completed a full twelve months of classes before the next GRF application season, I will have one last year to try... yet again. Next year will mark my FOURTH attempt.
I am so sick of applying for this thing. I really felt strongly about this year's application, and I thought I had a good shot. I suppose all I can do now is wait for the reviewer's comments to be released, hope there is something constructive I can apply to my research proposal, and try again next November.
Of course, chances are I'll end up rewriting the entire application with a different focus. Especially if I get some of these research ideas going. I have a feeling what I really need is a publication or two on my record, stronger letters of recommendation from current (as opposed to mostly past) advisers, and DATA from a pilot study to show that I'm really on to something and I'm worth the NSF's support.
Yep, that's right. Next year. Since this is my first year of graduate school and I will have not yet completed a full twelve months of classes before the next GRF application season, I will have one last year to try... yet again. Next year will mark my FOURTH attempt.
I am so sick of applying for this thing. I really felt strongly about this year's application, and I thought I had a good shot. I suppose all I can do now is wait for the reviewer's comments to be released, hope there is something constructive I can apply to my research proposal, and try again next November.
Of course, chances are I'll end up rewriting the entire application with a different focus. Especially if I get some of these research ideas going. I have a feeling what I really need is a publication or two on my record, stronger letters of recommendation from current (as opposed to mostly past) advisers, and DATA from a pilot study to show that I'm really on to something and I'm worth the NSF's support.
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