One fish, two fish, fake fish, computerish
I like to joke that I study imaginary fish. People often remember that or, even better, ask what it means. Then, I get to tell them that I study theoretical ecology; I use mathematical tools to investigate how organisms interact with each other and with their environment. I am studying in the MIT Joint Program with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, so my organisms of interest tend to be marine, but the only places they swim are in my computer, in equations, and, always, in my heart.
One fish, two fish, fake fish Computer models of marine communications tease out ecosystem management trade-offs
I like to joke that I study imaginary fish. People often remember that or, even better, ask what it means. Then, I get to tell them that I study theoretical ecology; I use mathematical tools to investigate how organisms interact with each other and with their environment. I am studying in the MIT Joint Program with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, so my organisms of interest tend to be marine, but the only places they swim are in my computer, in equations, and, always, in my heart.
Becoming a mentor
“True education does not consist merely in the acquiring of a few facts of science, history, literature, or art, but in the development of character.”
The emotional rollercoaster of literature review
Imagine this: you have a brilliant idea, a question that no one has ever dared asked, a new way to study the cosmos, a ground-breaking theory.
Whale watching in New Zealand
It’s 12:30 a.m. My PhD advisor is at my bunk-side. “Julie,” he says, “we got one of the tags, and we can hear the other. You’re up.”
Chasing salt
Gripping the desk as waves rock the ship back and forth, it is occasionally hard to sit upright at sea, let alone walk about the ship. I have strapped my chair to my desk with a bungee cord to keep me from sliding across the lab. A few minutes ago a large wave washed across the stern of the ship and sent salt water into the lab. Some of our equipment got wet, but nothing too bad.
The importance of adaptations
“Did you know,” I said to the eight-year-old boy in a Red Sox cap, “that about 50 percent of the oxygen in our atmosphere comes from the ocean by way of the tiny, drifting marine animals and plants called phytoplankton? So for every second breath you take, thank the plankton!”
Creating your own opportunities
Visit the Museum of Science, Boston this week. Proceed to the Blue wing up the escalators and to the left of the butterfly exhibit. There you will find Ocean Stories, an exhibit housed in the Art Science Gallery, a 2000-square-foot gallery twenty feet tall. By exploring Ocean Stories, you will discover oceanography translated through the prism of artwork.
Flying monkeys, hedgehogs, and castles, oh my!
I originally wanted this article to show that graduate students can kick back, relax, and stave off the insanity that is just a stone’s throw away from the genius we all aspire to achieve. However, as I wrote the title, I realized this may actually convince you of the opposite, that graduate school does in fact drive graduate students off the deep end. So, throwing caution to the wind, I am sharing two tales of the silly, the frivolous, and the fun that I’ve experienced this summer.
Reading for fun
I have a homemade sign hanging up in my office that proclaims “sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast” accompanied by a picture of a tipped over teacup, the only thing from Lewis Carroll’s books I was confident enough to draw. I like this quote because it reminds me that scientists aren’t supposed to look at things in mundane ways; we need to be brave and see things differently; we need to tackle the impossible.