Louis CK is an American comedian I like a lot. On his recent special, he talks about channel surfing and how he always has to stop and watch a particular scene in the movie, Magic Mike. For those who don't know, Magic Mike is a movie about male strippers starring Matthew McConaughey. The scene that Louis CK must watch is when Matthew McConaughey is introducing the male strippers to a room full of women.
"The law says you can't touch, but I think I see a lot of law breakers out there." -it's best if you use a Southern accent.
That is just hilarious. I know I quote that line too often, but it just makes me laugh. I got to find me some law breakers.
One of the scenes I always stop to watch is from an 80's movie called Working Girl most famous for the theme song, Let the River Run by Carly Simon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv-0mmVnxPA - love the 80's hair). In this movie, a secretary (Melanie Griffith) shares a business idea with her boss (Sigourney Weaver) who promptly steals it. When her boss breaks her leg, Melanie Griffith teams up with Harrison Ford to pull off the deal. It's not a great movie, but I like it. It is full of hope.
The scene I always watch is when Griffith and Ford act like a couple to crash the CEO's daughter's wedding. After the father-bride dance, Melanie Griffith cuts in to pitch the project. It's not nearly as funny as the Magic Mike scene, but it showed ordinary people doing extraordinary things. That really appeals to me.
Last December I'm in Washington D.C. for the Brain Initiative meeting. One speaker who had a title like 'The President's Director of Scientific Progress' pointed out the main goal of the meeting which was to think big. As an example he likened the Brain Initiative to the Apollo Program quoting an astronaut, "I want to die on Mars, but not on impact." It was a pretty cool meeting.
As I was checking the schedule of the meeting, I see that the night session will discuss the Korean Brain Initiative effort. There was a Korean Brain Initiative? The Brain Initiative has been very contagious with many countries starting their own efforts, but I was not aware that Korea was thinking to do the same. I needed to find out more. I see a colleague standing in line for coffee. Right behind him is a Korean guy in a suit who looks very official. Time to go talk to my colleague (cue the music to Let the River Run).
After some very brief small talk, I raise my voice, "I'm stunned at the size of this meeting. Even the Korean Brain Initiative has a session here. I'm from Korea. I had no idea." So subtle, but it worked... kind of.
He had nothing to do with the Korea Brain Initiative. "I'm very proud of my home country, I had no idea either." His name was Dr. Kendall Lee and is one of the leading neurosurgeons in the US working at the Mayo Clinic (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3QQOQAILZw). He does deep brain stimulation which continuously stimulates an area in the brain to alleviate Parkinson's disease. It is not well understood why this works. They were developing physical sensors to measure neurotransmitter release. They cannot use electrodes because the electrical stimulations interfere with their readings. When I show him our research using light instead of voltage to monitor neuronal activity, he lights up. "This is perfect for us. Will your probes work on pigs?"
Two months later, I'm in Rochester, Minnesota to present our research at the Mayo Clinic. Dr. Lee has a couple of large groups. One is working on deep brain stimulation while the other works on spinal cord injury (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBk9wslGBhQ). Dr. Lee's groups presented their research first. Since the results have not been published yet, I cannot go into too much detail. What I can say is that I was completely stunned by what I saw. I have searched for related videos (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mp8wFYu4l4w). This gives you a small example of what I saw. The progress these patients have made is miraculous. I sat spell bound for every one of their presentations. Utterly extraordinary.
Dr. Lee then gets up to introduce me. "Great work guys. Today we have a guest presenter from the Korea Institute of Science and Technology. I think you will enjoy his presentation on using light to monitor neuronal activity. Dr. Baker, are you ready to present?"
Uhm, no actually. I'm good. I've just watched 30 minutes of truly spectacular research. There is no way I can follow that. What am I going to say? "This cell glows and gets dimmer. This cell glows and gets dimmer." Oh, boy. Thankfully, I've taken acting classes and learned that yes is the more interesting answer. The talk was well received. There is a real potential for our work to complement theirs. During deep brain stimulation, we may be able to show them the best position for the electrode placement and the frequency of stimulation. For spinal cord injury, we may be able to monitor the behavior of damaged circuits and determine if they are recovering or rewiring after the treatment. I could also see the potential for other labs at KIST to assist the Mayo Clinic's efforts.
Yesterday, I learned that KIST agrees and is funding my proposal for a joint meeting between the two institutes for potential collaborations. Who knows what the real result will be. I am just so grateful for the opportunity to find out. These are exciting times. I was extremely lucky that Dr. Lee was waiting behind my colleague in line for coffee. Initiatives, giving ordinary people the chance to be extraordinary. Let's try. Absolutely.
Friday, July 7, 2017
Friday, June 23, 2017
What's in a Name?
"Good morning, Dr. Baker. The Prime Minister regrets to inform you that he will not be able to meet with you."
I was supposed to meet with the Prime Minister?
I guess I should stop deleting emails in Korean.I should really learn Korean. People tell me that in order to learn Korean I should get a Korean girlfriend. It's been my experience that if I want to lose a Korean girlfriend, I need only to ask her to teach me Korean. I am not a very good student.
One of the few smart things I have done, though, is to give the probes we develop in the lab a Korean name. Originally, that was just a way to say thank you for letting us do our research, but it has become a remarkably positive public relations boon. Indeed that was the reason I was one of only two foreign scientists invited to the 50th Anniversary of the Korea Institute of Science and Technology, KIST (pronounced like 'kiss' with a 't' at the end). Not to be confused with KAIST. KAIST is the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology, pronounced with a long 'i' sound.
Basing an economy on technology was a somewhat novel and daring enterprise back in the 60's. Now, South Korea has become a model economy for countries considering a similar path. As a result diplomats often visit KIST. When they do, KIST will sometimes send them to my lab to show the international opportunities generated by research institutes. I'm very proud KIST trusts me enough to be their international representative at times. I've had the pleasure of entertaining the Vietnamese and Italian Ambassadors who both mentioned that their countries were considering shifting more towards the Korean technology based economic system.
The 50th Anniversary of KIST was a big deal. Ambassadors from around the world attended. One keynote speaker was to be the U.S. Ambassador since KIST was originally a joint South Korea/U.S. project. While I was waiting in my seat, one of the top administrators at KIST suggested that I should greet the U.S. Ambassador upon his arrival. I go outside and security tells me where to stand. Suddenly, I'm part of the greeting committee. It was really cool. I was wearing a suit and a long, black dress coat. Ambassadors' cars would pull up with the flags on the front of the car. The Swedish Ambassador, The Nepalese Ambassador, The Italian Ambassador all nod to me as they pass. More cars with flags arrived, but the U.S. Ambassador is caught in traffic.
The President of KIST comes out and the greeting party leaves. I have no idea what to do so I started talking to the President. I asked him how difficult these events have been to organize. He started talking to me as though we are old friends. I guess not many people had asked him how he was doing. But then suddenly new security showed up and whispered in the President's ear. The KIST President tells me the Prime Minister is arriving. And then he tells me I can't be here. I guess the Prime Minister really didn't want to see me.
I went back to my seat regretting that I didn't get to say, "Welcome to KIST, Mr. Ambassador." I ended up really regretting not saying that. The U.S. Ambassador did eventually arrive and gave the second address. He started by saying, "It is a great honor to be here at KAIST." Oh dear God. It's not KAIST. It's KIST. He said KAIST this and KAIST that for the next 30 minutes. You could see the pain in the audience.
I am acutely aware of that pain because I now see it when I give talks. Some of our probes are doing interesting things which requires me to mention them. One of the rules for naming the probes is that I have to be able to pronounce the word. The problem is that my people are too nice/respectful to honestly tell me my pronunciation is bad. I cannot say 'Bongwoori' correctly, and I can see that on the audience's faces when I give a talk. I had a dear friend go to one of my talks. She told me that she had never felt proud and embarrassed at the same time until I tried to say 'Bongwoori'. Sitting in that audience hearing KAIST instead of KIST made me appreciate that awkwardness even more.
A few months later, a big VIP was coming to visit KIST and our department. I was nervous because I knew they would want to talk about Bongwoori. I texted my friend and she tried to reassure me, but I don't want to be remembered as the guy who can't speak Korean. That afternoon, he arrived...with a nine car escort! The front car's doors opened and people ran out to clear the way for our visitor. I had never seen anything like it. He came to our lobby and our department is introduced. He shook my hand and moved on. It lasted only a few minutes. As he was leaving, the director of our division went up to our visitor and brought him over to a poster describing my lab's work. In English he tells him that we name our probes Korean names. I told him a few of the names as he reads our poster. He looked at me and said, "You are a genius". Then he left.
I was higher than a kite. I couldn't wait to text my friend and tell her he called me a genius. It wasn't the genius part that made me happy. Hang out with me for an hour and that impression will fade. No, I texted my friend that I was so happy because there was a good chance he will remember me. Probably not my name, but he may remember the foreign researcher at KIST that gives probes Korean names. I hope that is the case, because a few weeks ago he was elected President of South Korea.
I was supposed to meet with the Prime Minister?
I guess I should stop deleting emails in Korean.I should really learn Korean. People tell me that in order to learn Korean I should get a Korean girlfriend. It's been my experience that if I want to lose a Korean girlfriend, I need only to ask her to teach me Korean. I am not a very good student.
One of the few smart things I have done, though, is to give the probes we develop in the lab a Korean name. Originally, that was just a way to say thank you for letting us do our research, but it has become a remarkably positive public relations boon. Indeed that was the reason I was one of only two foreign scientists invited to the 50th Anniversary of the Korea Institute of Science and Technology, KIST (pronounced like 'kiss' with a 't' at the end). Not to be confused with KAIST. KAIST is the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology, pronounced with a long 'i' sound.
Basing an economy on technology was a somewhat novel and daring enterprise back in the 60's. Now, South Korea has become a model economy for countries considering a similar path. As a result diplomats often visit KIST. When they do, KIST will sometimes send them to my lab to show the international opportunities generated by research institutes. I'm very proud KIST trusts me enough to be their international representative at times. I've had the pleasure of entertaining the Vietnamese and Italian Ambassadors who both mentioned that their countries were considering shifting more towards the Korean technology based economic system.
The 50th Anniversary of KIST was a big deal. Ambassadors from around the world attended. One keynote speaker was to be the U.S. Ambassador since KIST was originally a joint South Korea/U.S. project. While I was waiting in my seat, one of the top administrators at KIST suggested that I should greet the U.S. Ambassador upon his arrival. I go outside and security tells me where to stand. Suddenly, I'm part of the greeting committee. It was really cool. I was wearing a suit and a long, black dress coat. Ambassadors' cars would pull up with the flags on the front of the car. The Swedish Ambassador, The Nepalese Ambassador, The Italian Ambassador all nod to me as they pass. More cars with flags arrived, but the U.S. Ambassador is caught in traffic.
The President of KIST comes out and the greeting party leaves. I have no idea what to do so I started talking to the President. I asked him how difficult these events have been to organize. He started talking to me as though we are old friends. I guess not many people had asked him how he was doing. But then suddenly new security showed up and whispered in the President's ear. The KIST President tells me the Prime Minister is arriving. And then he tells me I can't be here. I guess the Prime Minister really didn't want to see me.
I went back to my seat regretting that I didn't get to say, "Welcome to KIST, Mr. Ambassador." I ended up really regretting not saying that. The U.S. Ambassador did eventually arrive and gave the second address. He started by saying, "It is a great honor to be here at KAIST." Oh dear God. It's not KAIST. It's KIST. He said KAIST this and KAIST that for the next 30 minutes. You could see the pain in the audience.
I am acutely aware of that pain because I now see it when I give talks. Some of our probes are doing interesting things which requires me to mention them. One of the rules for naming the probes is that I have to be able to pronounce the word. The problem is that my people are too nice/respectful to honestly tell me my pronunciation is bad. I cannot say 'Bongwoori' correctly, and I can see that on the audience's faces when I give a talk. I had a dear friend go to one of my talks. She told me that she had never felt proud and embarrassed at the same time until I tried to say 'Bongwoori'. Sitting in that audience hearing KAIST instead of KIST made me appreciate that awkwardness even more.
A few months later, a big VIP was coming to visit KIST and our department. I was nervous because I knew they would want to talk about Bongwoori. I texted my friend and she tried to reassure me, but I don't want to be remembered as the guy who can't speak Korean. That afternoon, he arrived...with a nine car escort! The front car's doors opened and people ran out to clear the way for our visitor. I had never seen anything like it. He came to our lobby and our department is introduced. He shook my hand and moved on. It lasted only a few minutes. As he was leaving, the director of our division went up to our visitor and brought him over to a poster describing my lab's work. In English he tells him that we name our probes Korean names. I told him a few of the names as he reads our poster. He looked at me and said, "You are a genius". Then he left.
I was higher than a kite. I couldn't wait to text my friend and tell her he called me a genius. It wasn't the genius part that made me happy. Hang out with me for an hour and that impression will fade. No, I texted my friend that I was so happy because there was a good chance he will remember me. Probably not my name, but he may remember the foreign researcher at KIST that gives probes Korean names. I hope that is the case, because a few weeks ago he was elected President of South Korea.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
Teaching
My mom was a teacher. My aunts were teachers. My uncles were teachers. Of all the professions I have ever interacted with, teachers have had the most impact on me. The point is that I value teaching a great deal. This past year I finally qualified for a faculty position at the University of Science and Technology (UST). So I was extremely honored last week when I was named the new vice-chair of the UST-KIST Biomedical Graduate Program. I am not sure why I was named vice-chair. I'm not sure what the vice-chair officially does, but it doesn't matter. To break the cultural and language barriers means a great deal to me. Korea has offered me some wonderful opportunities, and I am happy to play my part in further developing the scientific foundation of Korean Science, educating graduate students.
Teaching is much more than just providing information. Teaching is the art of learning: how to ask questions, make observations, dealing with unknowns.... On this, the sixth anniversary of my blog, I would like to share some teaching experiences that are very dear to me.
When I first graduated college, I didn't really know what I was going to do. I ended up working in a restaurant at night and was occasionally a substitute teacher at my former high school. I liked being a substitute teacher. I got to teach classes ranging from art to biology to history and math. I did not like teaching honor classes. The students would look down on me wondering what a substitute teacher could possibly teach them. I much preferred the remedial classes, the students people had given up on, the hoods. Those students responded very well to simple respect and expecting them to learn.
One remedial class I will never forget. I arrive at 8 a.m. and look at the lesson plan. First class was Earth Science. Second class was Math. And the last class of the day was sex education. SEX EDUCATION? I'm 23-24 and I'm about to teach sex ed to 18 year-olds with no warning. Talk about dreading the end of the day. There were eight students in that class. Five were girls, one of whom was in a wheel chair which for reasons I still do not understand added to my uneasiness. The topic was contraception. The book listed several methods and we were to discuss them. Great. The first method was abstinence. So I wrote on the board abstinence and said the first thing I could think of.
"Abstinence. Unfortunately, this is the method I use. Not on purpose, but such is life."
Instantly, the tension was broken. We discussed condoms, IUDs, the pill... There was an actual discussion with high-schoolers about contraception. I learned a lot. A recurring theme throughout my life has been that just knowing you are not the only one suffering from whatever it is your are suffering from helps. Only two of the students had had sex. I guess the other students felt better about themselves knowing their teacher was struggling with life as well.
About a month later I was teaching a math class. The topic was algebra and most of the students were hoods. It was late April and many of them had just given up. Given my recent experience with these students I knew forcing them wasn't going to work, so I asked what the problem was.
"I don't get these letters. It makes no sense. It's like a foreign language," one girl tells me.
"Okay," I reply, "what is 2 plus 2?"
"4", she says
"What is 5 plus 5?"
She says, "10".
"What is x plus x?"
She has no idea. I repeat the questions. When I ask what is x plus x this time, the smile on her face was priceless. "2x", she says. I ask, "what is y plus y?" She answers, "2y."
A week later in the faculty dining lounge, an extremely attractive teacher (the kind high school boys dream of as well as 24 year-old substitute teachers) comes up to me and asks if I taught her math class last week. I stammer a weak yes. She tells me that one of the girls in her class handed in a homework assignment and got a 95%. I was like great. She says,"No. You don't understand. This was the first homework assignment she has handed in all year. What did you do?" I told her I wasn't sure. The next day the attractive teacher was having lunch talking about how she had broken up with her boyfriend. He was a hunter and that was one of the things she didn't like. She was sitting next to a teacher I had when I was a student there. As I took my tray back, I stopped in front of them and told my old teacher, "I really don't like to hunt." That line fell so flat. Complete fail. Lead balloons are more successful. Indeed, from that moment on, I just do a walk-by. I practice abstinence way too much and not on purpose.
Several years later at KIST, these moments are still occurring (yes, the abstinence too, but let's focus on the teaching). A group of undergraduates are visiting my department. They are interested in careers in research and possibly intern over the summer. I walk into my lab, and one of my students is giving them a tour. He says maybe Doctor Baker would be better at explaining what we do. I ask how much time do I have. When he tells me only 5 minutes, I decide to take a different approach.
"Instead of trying to cram our research into 5 minutes, let's talk a little about what research is." This question was initially an attempt to gauge their English ability, but it leads to one of those moments of inspiration. Some of the students say it is doing experiments which is a good start.
"Yes, that's part of it, but what does research mean? Research. Two parts, re and search, right? So, search - to look, to seek, to find, to explore. Re? to do again and again. Why do we have to keep searching? Because we are going to fail, and fail, and fail. Indeed, we will fail far more than we will succeed, right? Science is hard which is good. If it was easy, it would already have be done. Besides, being right all the time is boring. I know you all are doing well in class, but research is more than just knowing. It is finding out why you're wrong. And when you do, those are the moments when you have a chance to see what no one has ever seen before. This! This is why we do science."
The expressions on their faces melted me. I knew I had hit home. Career decisions are hard and often wrong. I think letting them know that failure is okay, is normal, and can even be amazing encouraged their decisions, strengthened their sense of purpose.
The final example happened just last week. I am teaching a field research course on voltage imaging. Field research courses are basically lab courses. I have four students, two of which work in my lab. We meet once a week and go over concepts and theories. Last week, we started imaging. One of my students demonstrated the procedure using a voltage-sensitive dye. When she was done, I turned to another student and said, "Your turn." The look of fear on her face was immense. She refused. She said she couldn't do it. "Your time is precious and you shouldn't waste it on me."
"You are right. Time is precious, and do you know one of the most precious ways to spend time?"
After a few seconds of silence, I answered my own question. "By teaching students. Teaching students is one of the best ways of spending time."
She sat down at the scope, found some cells, and with the assistance of my students was able to image voltage. "I'm so happy. I can't believe it. I feel so strong. I want to do more."
Teaching is much more than just providing information. Teaching is also giving people the confidence to try new things. We will fail. Failure is normal. But if we are willing to learn, failure will lead to success. Teaching, therefore, gives you the opportunity to succeed. I come from a family of teachers, and I am very grateful.
Teaching is much more than just providing information. Teaching is the art of learning: how to ask questions, make observations, dealing with unknowns.... On this, the sixth anniversary of my blog, I would like to share some teaching experiences that are very dear to me.
When I first graduated college, I didn't really know what I was going to do. I ended up working in a restaurant at night and was occasionally a substitute teacher at my former high school. I liked being a substitute teacher. I got to teach classes ranging from art to biology to history and math. I did not like teaching honor classes. The students would look down on me wondering what a substitute teacher could possibly teach them. I much preferred the remedial classes, the students people had given up on, the hoods. Those students responded very well to simple respect and expecting them to learn.
One remedial class I will never forget. I arrive at 8 a.m. and look at the lesson plan. First class was Earth Science. Second class was Math. And the last class of the day was sex education. SEX EDUCATION? I'm 23-24 and I'm about to teach sex ed to 18 year-olds with no warning. Talk about dreading the end of the day. There were eight students in that class. Five were girls, one of whom was in a wheel chair which for reasons I still do not understand added to my uneasiness. The topic was contraception. The book listed several methods and we were to discuss them. Great. The first method was abstinence. So I wrote on the board abstinence and said the first thing I could think of.
"Abstinence. Unfortunately, this is the method I use. Not on purpose, but such is life."
Instantly, the tension was broken. We discussed condoms, IUDs, the pill... There was an actual discussion with high-schoolers about contraception. I learned a lot. A recurring theme throughout my life has been that just knowing you are not the only one suffering from whatever it is your are suffering from helps. Only two of the students had had sex. I guess the other students felt better about themselves knowing their teacher was struggling with life as well.
About a month later I was teaching a math class. The topic was algebra and most of the students were hoods. It was late April and many of them had just given up. Given my recent experience with these students I knew forcing them wasn't going to work, so I asked what the problem was.
"I don't get these letters. It makes no sense. It's like a foreign language," one girl tells me.
"Okay," I reply, "what is 2 plus 2?"
"4", she says
"What is 5 plus 5?"
She says, "10".
"What is x plus x?"
She has no idea. I repeat the questions. When I ask what is x plus x this time, the smile on her face was priceless. "2x", she says. I ask, "what is y plus y?" She answers, "2y."
A week later in the faculty dining lounge, an extremely attractive teacher (the kind high school boys dream of as well as 24 year-old substitute teachers) comes up to me and asks if I taught her math class last week. I stammer a weak yes. She tells me that one of the girls in her class handed in a homework assignment and got a 95%. I was like great. She says,"No. You don't understand. This was the first homework assignment she has handed in all year. What did you do?" I told her I wasn't sure. The next day the attractive teacher was having lunch talking about how she had broken up with her boyfriend. He was a hunter and that was one of the things she didn't like. She was sitting next to a teacher I had when I was a student there. As I took my tray back, I stopped in front of them and told my old teacher, "I really don't like to hunt." That line fell so flat. Complete fail. Lead balloons are more successful. Indeed, from that moment on, I just do a walk-by. I practice abstinence way too much and not on purpose.
Several years later at KIST, these moments are still occurring (yes, the abstinence too, but let's focus on the teaching). A group of undergraduates are visiting my department. They are interested in careers in research and possibly intern over the summer. I walk into my lab, and one of my students is giving them a tour. He says maybe Doctor Baker would be better at explaining what we do. I ask how much time do I have. When he tells me only 5 minutes, I decide to take a different approach.
"Instead of trying to cram our research into 5 minutes, let's talk a little about what research is." This question was initially an attempt to gauge their English ability, but it leads to one of those moments of inspiration. Some of the students say it is doing experiments which is a good start.
"Yes, that's part of it, but what does research mean? Research. Two parts, re and search, right? So, search - to look, to seek, to find, to explore. Re? to do again and again. Why do we have to keep searching? Because we are going to fail, and fail, and fail. Indeed, we will fail far more than we will succeed, right? Science is hard which is good. If it was easy, it would already have be done. Besides, being right all the time is boring. I know you all are doing well in class, but research is more than just knowing. It is finding out why you're wrong. And when you do, those are the moments when you have a chance to see what no one has ever seen before. This! This is why we do science."
The expressions on their faces melted me. I knew I had hit home. Career decisions are hard and often wrong. I think letting them know that failure is okay, is normal, and can even be amazing encouraged their decisions, strengthened their sense of purpose.
The final example happened just last week. I am teaching a field research course on voltage imaging. Field research courses are basically lab courses. I have four students, two of which work in my lab. We meet once a week and go over concepts and theories. Last week, we started imaging. One of my students demonstrated the procedure using a voltage-sensitive dye. When she was done, I turned to another student and said, "Your turn." The look of fear on her face was immense. She refused. She said she couldn't do it. "Your time is precious and you shouldn't waste it on me."
"You are right. Time is precious, and do you know one of the most precious ways to spend time?"
After a few seconds of silence, I answered my own question. "By teaching students. Teaching students is one of the best ways of spending time."
She sat down at the scope, found some cells, and with the assistance of my students was able to image voltage. "I'm so happy. I can't believe it. I feel so strong. I want to do more."
Teaching is much more than just providing information. Teaching is also giving people the confidence to try new things. We will fail. Failure is normal. But if we are willing to learn, failure will lead to success. Teaching, therefore, gives you the opportunity to succeed. I come from a family of teachers, and I am very grateful.
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