Kaitlin P. McCreery, Ph.D.

I identify as an interdisciplinary scientist because I am hooked on learning in every context. There exists a stereotype that scientists are super-specialized, knowing too much about a very small topic that appeals to a select few individuals. This is best illustrated by one of my favorite statistics: that the readership of a peer-reviewed scientific publication typically does not exceed 10 people. Deep down, I have never felt like a deep, specialized scientist. I have researched across disciplines from molecular biology, biophysics, tissue engineering, electrical engineering, and even semiconductor systems. Maybe this makes me well-rounded. Maybe this makes me easily distracted.

After spending years in the lab, I wanted to learn something new. So again, I find myself shifting disciplines. A few months ago I was surrounded by biomechanicists and mechanical engineers, and now I’m surrounded by cell biologists and biochemists. How did I end up here? The answer is, in part, to demolish a personal barrier. I’ve always been intimidated by large datasets, so I decided to chase them. I am specifically chasing the largest dataset that has utmost importance to humankind: the genome.  Aside from the medical revolution that sits behind this large dataset, I also personally find that there’s something deeply satisfying to me about mastering something that’s just plain hard. Without the weight of PhD candidacy, a postdoctoral traineeship is an excellent path for a few more years of skill building. As a consequence of this train of thought, I am now treading in foreign waters.

These first few months of my postdoctoral training have me feeling like an alien that has been dropped on a strange planet. At the lab, I am swimming in an ocean of technical jargon and discussions about signaling axes. Contrary to engineering, my colleagues are not criticizing methodology and approach, but rather biological questions and paradigm conclusions. I am no longer discussing viscosity and the math behind contact mechanics, but phosphorylation and protein unfolding. Then, I leave the lab to go home, where I walk through my local Rewe and people are speaking German, a language I had never heard or used before moving here. Needless to elaborate, I’m tired. My brain has been on overload, and I am totally exhausted at the end of each day from complete overstimulation.

My high school cross-country coach used to preach: consistency, efficiency, strength, and patience. Embarking on my quest to become a German-speaking computational biologist, I’ll keep this mantra close.