How a pink fairy showed me the right career path to take
It’s Halloween.
I’m in Australia, so it’s late Spring.
It’s warm and I am squinting against the bright sun.
I’m on the school oval with all the kids from my class, dressed up in our Halloween costumes.
Under the shining sun, the oval is a brilliant, vivid green and the children are dark shadows against it, in their costumes of witches, demons, and ghouls.
Except me!
I’m competing with the green grass for most vivid - in my bright and joyful pink fairy outfit.
At the tender age of 5, I had had the gumption to refuse to wear anything ‘scary’ to my primary school Halloween day.
I didn’t want to be something ‘mean’ and so a pink fairy I was, with sparkling wings and a wand to grant wishes, more allied to the perky spring grass, than the dark witches, demons, and ghosts of my classmates.
In photos of me from that day, I’m pretty sure I can see the point where the worrying started, about what other people thought of my choices… but for the meantime…
Our household embraced dress-ups, and it wasn’t unusual that I was trying on characters to be and roles to play.
Glinda the good witch, clearly had had an influence on me…
Around the same time, I was a BIG fan of Wonder Woman. In hindsight, I can’t overstate how important it was to have her as a role model.
As a young girl who towered over her friends and could have been self-conscious of her height, I loved that Wonder Woman was tall and strong.
But I also loved that she helped people, and that her ‘weapon’ was a golden lasso of truth.
Modelling her Amazonian qualities, I wore my Wonder Woman costume with pride and strength as I played at warding off the ‘baddies’ with my indestructible bracelets.
Reflecting on that kid, she didn’t have a clue where her career might end up, or that it would start by studying science. But even then, she wanted to help “save the world”.
Fast forward nearly 20 years and I’m in a Wonder Woman costume again, this time looking much more like the sultry Linda Cater and attending a university trivia night.
I remember that night with happiness, not only because I hilariously got pulled over for a random breath test in my costume (though I’m not sure the police officer even noticed), but because I felt like I had finally found “my people”.
That year I had completed my Honours degree in Genetics, and now here I was in a room full of intelligent and driven people from all walks of life and various corners of the globe. I loved being in that room. I felt inspired and encouraged and welcomed.
I had found the perfect environment for me to grow.
Buoyed by this I decided to start a PhD. Initially after Honours, I had gone into the workforce as a medical scientist, but I had come rushing back at my first chance to be part of the University research world with its learning and discovery and lab work and collaboration.
To this day, my PhD years are still some of the most enjoyable of my life. But by the end of my PhD, I was confused. I felt like a Diana Prince cover story was taking over my life.
The next thing I was supposed to do was a Postdoc and then the path was to become a lecturer or if I was lucky, a research-only academic.
Just like the little girl who didn’t want to put on a witch costume at Halloween, I knew that career wasn’t for me.
But I’d gone so far down this road, what else was I going to do?
I didn’t want to “waste” all those years of study…
So, I followed the career path before me.
I started that first postdoc, but my own lasso of truth was getting tight around my chest, telling me I was NOT cut out for this gig.
But I loved the University research world, so I stayed. By then it was comfortable, safe, and familiar. I moved into research management, and I was helping people, smart researchers who were trying to “save the world”. It was a good Wonder Woman-worthy career path, a very suitable and worthwhile post-PhD path…
But I was unhappy.
And frustrated.
How had I ended up here?
Of all the voices in my head telling me what I should and shouldn’t do for my career, I realised the strongest voice was no longer my own.
That little pink fairy was no longer calling the shots.
In my head there were my parents, my teachers, my parent’s friends, my friends, my friend’s parents, various other adults, and mentors/advisors, all suggesting this path and that career.
By the end of my PhD, I had started thinking about all the other things I could have done with my life... I wished I had liked accounting, that seemed a nice clear well-trodden path. Or physiotherapy. That seemed like a nice clear career path too… wasn’t it?
Serendipitously, it was around this time I heard the then Dean of Science (at the University I worked in) say to a cohort of first year Bachelor of Science students “Congratulations on NOT choosing a profession”. I can’t remember exactly what he said next, but he made some points about innovation, transferrable skills and making your own opportunities.
For me this idea of making your own opportunities was a revelation.
Despite my parent’s desire for me to get the formal education they hadn’t been allowed, I suddenly understood that the most important thing I’d gained from my PhD was not a piece of paper. It was a huge set of skills and a growing network of colleagues that provided various opportunities to use them.
I realised I hadn’t wasted all those years doing a PhD just to leave academia. During my PhD and the years after, I had been honing a unique set of knowledge, transferrable skills, and experiences… and I could switch career paths anytime!
I just had to figure out the best path for me...
Which is when the even bigger problem with the “career path” narrative in my head dawned on me:
THERE IS NO PATH!
Whether you are an accountant, a physio, or a research scientist, you need an appropriate environment to grow, but it occurred to me that all the existing paths for any career are actually other peoples. At some point you need to decide where your path diverts.
To find the fulfilling career I was after, I needed to start carving out my own.
Which I did - enter my vision to create Empirical Research Development.
And it was truly liberating, because:
Once I was on my own path, the view was pure, and oh so unadulterated.
Once I was on my own path, there were no comparisons.
On my own path, there are no expectations, no judgements, or opinions that matter. (Well… other than my own, and hey, they can be enough!!)
The career that you forge for yourself, as traditional or distinctive as the foundations might be, is one where it’s ok to be ALL of who you are.
To include all aspects of your unique self. YOUR skills, YOUR talents, YOUR interests, YOUR dreams.
And the truly heartening thing is that by reflecting on that plucky 5-year-old pink fairy version of me, I feel like I’ve found a whole new role model. Someone who isn’t afraid to be seen for who she really is or go against the (Halloween) grain.
Today, I am still someone who wants to bring kindness and joy into a scary world of monsters. It’s just that the monsters I’m fighting now are the competition, disparity, and limitations of our research funding system!
In addition to helping talented researchers win grants, what I want to do now is help drive a revolution in post-PhD career ‘guidance’ that is about helping people listen to their own voice above others, to see themselves as their own role model and to reflect on the directions for their distinct career journey.
I am privileged to work with incredibly talented people every day. Many who I think are very happy in their careers and are doing amazing things despite the challenges of a career in research.
But I believe there’s more than just a few like me. Who feel like there’s something different for them, a career path they didn’t even know existed… (because it doesn’t yet!).
From where I’m standing now, I can tell you, there are endless possibilities for what you can do with your PhD skills, when combined with your talents, and your experience….
Like my PhD-peer Dr Kate, who instead of taking up a role as a lecturer, started her own Foundation (Marine Mammal Foundation) to study and protect the new species of dolphin her PhD research discovered.
Or Dr Loz, who went from cancer researcher to running a hugely successful enterprise Science Play Kids - making Science an every day conversation.
Or my old colleague Brook, who used her PhD in biochemistry/microbiology to create Capital Scraps and continues to fight food waste.
Or me, who’s turned my PhD skills and experience into research support services - and the list truly does go on!
Using my experience, I want to help PhD grads (recent or longstanding!) discover their individual talents and career possibilities. To not let their unique capability and potential be drowned out by the dreams or worries of others, whether that’s parents or partners, teachers and mentors, friends… or your social media foes!
And even if you still want the “traditional” academic path, I want you to know – you can do it your way.
In fact, I think that might be the only way to truly succeed.
I want to showcase new vistas of opportunity; to help you appreciate and own your distinct career story - so you can find meaningful work and create the impact that only you can generate for our world. And that’s why I’ve rebranded Empirical Research Development to Empirical Careers.
As I continue to construct my own career path, and drive new directions for Empirical Careers, I want to remind us all to leave behind the unwanted learned behaviours and expectations that we’ve absorbed from the systems around us… This means, while I’m helping you carve out your career, you can be sure I’ll be wearing at least a little bit of pink…
Want to start carving out your own career directions??
Here are the 3 questions for you to reflect on that worked for me...
Who were your role models as a child?
Who did you admire growing up? These can be people you knew, people you didn’t know, even fictional figures like superheroes or characters from your favourite books or movies. What is it about these role models that you admire? (mine are clearly WW and Glenda the good witch! And it highlights my love of supporting other people in their hour of need… aka grant deadlines)
What activity do you get ‘lost’ in?
Is there something you do, where you feel like you’re in ‘flow’? Like time stops and you are so absorbed you forget to eat? What is it? What is it about that activity that you enjoy so much (for me it is writing, for you it might be analysis, organising data, synthesising information, etc)?
What frustrates you the most about your current job/career?
Is there something that really annoys you at work? Something that’s getting in the way of you doing your best? What would you change about this situation if you could? What new/different activity would make this situation better? (for me it was the structures and limitations in the uni system, so I decided to start my business to provide personalised support to researchers when they need it)
Want to share your thoughts? Drop me an email. I’d love to hear what comes up for you.