Monday, May 13, 2013

Lies and Recomendations

I wish I could have an honest conversation with a professor who's written at least 20 recommendation letters. Maybe 50? ....100?

Wait, how many letters will a professor write in their time? That got scary fast.

Whilst attempting entrance to graduate school, I had a letter writer fail to send promised letters. I apparently wasted time completing tedious applications and a boatload of money during my college-induced poverty because some dickhead lied to my face. The part that made it so excruciating was that he was not the only asshole liar to exploit my work in academia. I'd spent my junior year of college managing research assistants and collecting human-subjects data for that asshole's graduate student. His student absconded with the data to a post-doctoral position in Texas somewhere and never again responded to correspondence. Upon hearing the issue, his advisor agreed to write letters in his stead. Note: agreed to. NEVER ACTUALLY DID.

Now, in full disclosure, I am *JAZZED* that things turned out the way they did. Apparently so glad that I have completely forgotten the name of the graduate student who was the ultimate culprit in the above debacle. During my senior year I worked in a lab with amazing researchers (Gerald Wasserman, Mandy Bolbecker-Hosking). I later joined Mike Hoane's lab at Southern Illinois Unviersity as a graduate student and fell in love with traumatic brain injury work in the following application cycle. Met my future husband, fell in love roller derby culture with some people in Southern Illinois, blah, blah, blah. Birds singing, sun shining, everything is perfect and wonderful.

...Yet there's still a little salt in my soul about that damned letter.

I needed a crew of assistants to help with operant chamber testing, and that's now ballooned out to more than a dozen assistants. Most people balk at the number assistants, but these rad miniscientists substantially increase the quality and throughput of my research. There's a time trade-off for me - management, recruitment, retention, and enrichment requires substantial effort, but it's VERY worth it, in my opinion. 

My recommendation letter guidelines:
1. I honestly assess their letters' potential content to the apprentice (while working together or when asked for a letter, but preferably the former).
2. Apprentices provide as much notice as possible, with a plan in place, ao I can easily complete the letter and send it.
3. I supply a copy of the letter to the apprentice following its submission.

It's my belief that if you're going to train or be trained someone, there is ideally a commitment to doing so well. It would be easier for one to know how they could excel if the rubric on which they will be graded is clearly described. Mandated for courses, unheard of with research assistantships.

As the discipline of Neuroscience matures and becomes a recognized and established independent academic entity, I'm excited to see how the recommendation letter evolves. Research involvement whilst and undergraduate is an increasingly necessary component to admittance to Neuroscience graduate programs (as well as many others). Maybe the recommendation letter culture can sustain a similar evolution.

At least it's digital now. Letterhead is a bitch.

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