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A*STAR Scholars at the World Knowledge Dialogue 2008
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Participants of the Students programme at the World Knowledge Dialogue 2008
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World – The participants of this WKD came mostly from Asia, Europe and the United States. There was a lack of representation from the rest of the world such as Latin America, Africa and the Middle East. For a symposium to be truly global, as what its name aspires to be, future dialogues ought to include participants from these neglected regions.
“Gone are the career suits - it's now jeans, sneakers and a red bicycle helmet for me.”
Lynette Cheah, NSS (PhD), 2004
Returning to student life after a foray as a research administrator at the A*STAR headquarters took quite a bit of getting used to. Who would have thought I'd have to use integral calculus again? Gone are the career suits - it's now jeans, sneakers and a red bicycle helmet for me. And while my peers back home decorate their new flats and start families, I'm shopping online for a new book bag to haul my cheap Clementi textbooks. I like pizza delivery, instant sauce mixes and I can sniff out free food on campus a mile away.
But it's no free lunch. Between hunting for a research topic, attending seminars and getting humbled in classes, I'm also trying to make sure I can remain as a student - only half of my department's candidates pass their qualifying exams. I'm slowly beginning to relate to the characters in the Piled Higher and Deeper comic strip about graduate student life (http://www.phdcomics.com/).
While most graduate students have their research topic defined through a research assistantship, mine took a while to develop. The scholarship gave me lots of freedom in this aspect. I read lots of journals, talked to professors and peers, and now I'm working on transportation energy models. If things work out fine, I hope to help reduce fuel consumption in the transportation sector.
I'm learning that research is like picking at a loose thread. The more you tug at it, the more it unravels. Research questions and possibilities are endless, and the researcher's job is to sieve through the avalanche of information that exist in the chosen field, develop and communicate one's expertise, and finally make an addition to the existing body of knowledge. The one thing to remember, though, is not to get too carried away with over-specialization. Don't pull that thread until you forget you're destroying your favorite sweater.

"It was graduation week at Brown, and it sure was one big party.”
Tee Yun Shou Louis, NSS (BS), 2001
Moment of a Lifetime
The raucous applause, the boisterous crowds, the exuberant sunshine – the streets have been transformed into a loud, ecstatic carnival. The juxtapositions were glorious: the grand, ancient colonial buildings next to the colorful balloons, signs and confetti; the arcane, majestic Latin commands (which used to be understood by all) against the uninhibited whoops and heart-warming laughter; the line of professors striding in their grand regalia versus the sea of fresh graduates in their colorful leis, cool sunglasses and sashes with ethnic designs.
It was graduation week at Brown, and it sure was one big party. The streets in the city were closed; the sidewalks were crammed with beaming parents wielding camcorders and cameras; the weather blisteringly hot with the sun pouring its rays ruthlessly down, the typical New England summer. We paraded down past the historical Main Green, through the famed Van Winkle Gates, walking through a strip of asphalt surrounded by a sea of loud, cheering parents, friends, alumni and well-wishers.
The first people we noticed cheering us on from the sidewalks were our professors. Noticing a number of familiar faces among them applauding us, our hearts welled up with pride. Soon, it was our turn to cheer on the rest of the contingent, as we stood at the sidelines. Leading the pack were the alumni – the first an octogenarian in a wheelchair, waving a Brown alumni flag spiritedly like a little child, followed by streams of other alumni, carrying class banners as they stepped forward, from the distinguished Brown and Pembroke (the women’s college Brown merged with) Classes of 1932 to the vibrant Class of 2005, from great-grandparents to mums and dads to swinging singles. Then, the professors came forward, some came to shake our hands and congratulate us, and others beamed to us contented smiles. We then headed over to the Baptist church and then the Main Green, where commands were given by our beloved president Ruth Simmons in Latin, Class Speeches by our fellow graduates in English, and encouraging cheers by family and friends in a Babel of languages. Finally, President Simmons said the magic words (in Latin and English), cheers ensued, graduation hats were propelled into the azure sky, and we were officially graduates.
This very ceremony has happened every year for close to three centuries, and not much has changed. We graduates might speak teenage jargon and not Latin, we might be working in modern labs and sieving through electronic archives instead of toiling away under kerosene lamps, and the crowds are in jeans and T-shirts under rather that top hats and corsets, but the event is still as boisterous, fun and enjoyable as before. I can imagine how the first graduates must have felt as they walked down the same streets, with inspirational names like Friendship, Benevolence and Hope: a sense of achievement at having attained something great, something significant, something special.
Indeed, my time at Brown has been something truly special. Never have I had the opportunity to learn simply to feed my curiosity. Brown boasts a feast of departments – from Anthropology to Urban Studies, from Computer Science to Visual Art – for undergraduates to choose from. There is no core curriculum, but hardly anyone sticks to the sciences or the humanities, when there are so many fascinating options available. The students are bright, but not selfishly competitive; the professors are committed to research, but can always find the time to give advice to undergraduates. It was a beautiful balance of excellence and compassion, ancient and modern, competition and cooperation. In fact, as I grabbed the graduation hat descending from above, exchanged warm hugs with friends, and posed for the umpteenth time for pictures, I firmly believed that this was truly a moment of a lifetime, something I will never forget for many years to come.
"I always like to imagine that the present state I am in would be the most challenging I will ever encounter.”
Adeline Lin, NSS (PhD), 2001
Hmm… this experiment should have worked according to the published protocol.
Oh dear, I’ll need to prepare my presentation for tomorrow’s lab-meeting.
And 3 papers to plough through by tonight…
My experiment should have worked…
Gosh, its 10pm already?
I really really hope there’s still a sandwich left at home for dinner.
Reminder: need to pay my rent earlier as I’ll be attending a conference in 1-week’s time.
So what do I tell my PI when we meet this Thursday?
Oh well, I just have to repeat this experiment and optimize the conditions.
Oops… out of this reagent at this time of the day?
I always like to imagine that the present state I am in would be the most challenging I will ever encounter. Although I am usually wrong, hypothetically, this should be true for a 3rd year PhD student like me. The youthful euphoria of starting graduate school has worn off. Retorts like “I am busy with my prelims” or “I just started on my project” no longer suffice in explaining my productivity in graduate school. Well, hypothetically, with no classes or prelims to worry about, the 24/7 devotion to research should then equip me with better responses when discussing my project.
Well, hypothetically.
If there were anything similar between a PhD student and Christopher Columbus, it would be the uncertainties that we face as we embark on our journeys. We certainly make long journeys and who knows what we will discover? In fact, we cannot be entirely sure that our toil would eventually be rewarded. One PI even summarily concluded that my research ‘lives or dies’ with me. I have come to appreciate that part of the grill is learning how to navigate through all these uncertainties.
Besides fresh enthusiasm and seasoned gumption, it takes plenty of hard work to wade through the rough and uncertain waters of failed experiments and inexplicable observations. When it comes to their projects, most PIs would expect students to be ahead of the game. Oftentimes when the amount of work becomes unnerving, I would remind myself that I go to school everyday and spend hours at my bench for an education. Although that may have sounded corny, as I wriggle through the heaps of daily work pondering about the possibility of completing my PhD successfully, it is easy to become oblivious to the significance of my daily work.
I think there must be a few sayings that describe how a journey is more important than the destination. Although scientists are not known to be particularly idealistic, I firmly believe that we gain something at the end of everyday’s toil. It is in this toil where true learning takes place. Well, Hemingway’s The Old Man And The Sea comes to mind, where the old man comes back with no fish. Fish or no fish, research is really about the journey. To frame it into the size of a certificate or a key to employment would ironically devalue its worth. I shall cheer myself on.