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After a particularly involved (and amusing) discussion with a few friends on whether mustaches are acceptable or not, I figured I’d devote a post to the subject.
There was a particularly amusing moment I had at Cornell, where a few students had set up a sort of “mustache rally” in an effort to bring the mustache back into style. They were chanting pro-mustache slogans and brandishing razors and scissors at people who walked by, offering to give them a shave. Indeed it seems like mustaches are making a comeback…for better or worse.
There are roughly three groups of men: those who look at facial hair as a sign of rugged masculinity and actively grow and shape it into various creations, those who go for the razor at the first sign of stubble, and those who grow facial hair because they’d rather not go through the effort of shaving. Those from older generations, and those from outside the Western nations tend to value facial hair as undoubtedly a sign of masculinity. There probably is some evolutionary significance as far as men having facial hair is concerned. It is a marker of maturity, and perhaps for that reason, it hasn’t been phased out by either evolution or by societal whims.
I have one relative inquire of another relative who prefers to be clean-shaven, whether or not he is a man (to which I replied yes, he’s bald, he has more than enough testosterone). South Indian men seem to believe that mustaches define manliness, as evidenced by 90% of the actors having mustaches. Which brings me to my next point…what makes a man a man?
Masculinity can be defined by a few factors. The most definitive factor is chromosomal identity, that is, possessing XY sex chromosomes that give rise to male primary and secondary sex characteristics. Most boys look forward to the day that they start growing facial hair and shaving, because to them, it is a sign of growing up. Yet does the mustache make the man?
Obviously not.
Masculinity is defined by social constructs and personal outlook. It is equal parts machisimo and chivalry, with a pinch of sensitivity for good measure. It is sports and action, but also just being a father, brother, boyfriend, or husband. A little facial hair does not do any of that.
Clearly my stance on the mustache debate (yay or nay) is undoubtedly nay, to the dismay of 90% of my male, Malayalee relatives. Perhaps it’s due to being raised in the United States, where we are bombarded with ads for the next multi-blade razor that leaves a man’s face “silky smooth.” I just don’t think mustaches alone look good on a man’s face, with rare exception. It’s like carrying a chinchilla around on your upper lip all day.
Facial hair in general doesn’t suit all men. All men are different, all have different facial types. Some have rounder, cherubic faces. Others are chiseled, with strong jawlines. Others still, fall somewhere along the spectrum. So what works, and what doesn’t?
Naturally it’s a question of personal tastes and aesthetics.
Three things that don’t work right from the get-go:
1. Large, shaggy beards (makes you look about 10-15 years older)
2. Muttonchops, and other strange mustache creations. (just looks weird)
3. Soul patches (makes me think that you missed a spot while shaving)
What can work:
1. Scruff: This works best for two types of people:
a. Those who have that chiseled appearance. It helps accentuate the cheekbones and jawline.
b. Those who aren’t quite chiseled, but have some signs of a chin and cheekbones: It helps to further define those areas.
2. Goatees: This works best for people who don’t have a discernible chin, and need to define where their jawline is. Goatees on people with longer, thinner faces adds a certain devilishness to their appearance, which may or may not be a good thing.
3. Small mustaches a la Johnny Depp in Pirates: This only works if you have Depp’s facial structure (prominent cheekbones, hollow cheeks, strong jaw). Otherwise, it’ll just look make you look sketchy.
Ultimately men will grow their facial hair as they see fit, in accordance with their own definition of what it means to be a man, and more importantly, a good-looking man. There are obviously those for whom it just works, and for others, it can be an absolute disaster. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and it cannot be generalized to the population as a whole. That’s the great thing about being human, we can find beauty in a variety of manifestations.
I happened to be on Youtube a while back, and saw that there was a section devoted to commencement speeches, where Randy Pausch’s video was featured. I can’t believe it has been almost a year since he passed. I can’t believe that he passed.
I watched his last lecture soon after I had graduated from college. My brother had insisted that I see it, and he is usually not one for sweeping oratory. Randy Pausch did not look like he was dying, though all those present, and all those watching knew that he was. Not once did he pity himself, or bemoan his situation, even as his death grew steadily within him. His speech was peppered with grace, humor, and a perspective that one would not expect from cancer patients, let alone people who have ever been so much as slighted by fate.
He spoke eloquently of achieving his own childhood dreams, and helping others to achieve theirs. It’s one of those topics that, context notwithstanding, is beautiful and inspirational. Yet it takes on a whole new level of poignancy when one takes into account Pausch’s backstory, the “elephant in the room” as he referred to it (terminal pancreatic cancer). On a slight sidenote, and perhaps this is a gross generalization, but in the few weeks that I have worked in clinical cancer research, I have found such inspiration in the patients I have been lucky enough to hear about or perhaps even talk to. Their perspective, in many cases, is so pure and so positive. Perhaps it’s the specter of death that causes us to review our views on life, and find something positive to keep us (and those we love) going.
I remember coming into the hospital one day, having walked a few blocks in the pouring rain. I ended up being locked out of my office, and decided to wait in the waiting room. There was one other woman there, who was a patient. She smiled at me and asked me how I was doing. I responded, “Fine…but I wish the weather was better!”
“No no,” she said, “I love this weather.”
“Why?”
“Well,” she started, “it’s almost as if the city is being cleansed fully.” She smiled. “There is a smell in the city, that no amount of cleaning we do can take away. Yet when the rain comes down and washes the streets, it smells so fresh and clean afterward. That’s why I love it.”
I can’t look at storms with the same, negative view again.
Randy Pausch inspired me similarly. As many of you know, whether because you know me, or because you have read my posts, I really want to become a doctor. What you probably also know is that it has been a ridiculously uphill battle. In his speech, he spoke of brick walls. Brick walls, he said, were there to test how badly you really wanted something. Your propensity for breaking down the brick wall was correlated to the strength of your dream. I have made some progress with my own brick wall, but there is still more work to be done. I’ll see how it plays out.
There are a few other things that stuck that I have been able to relate to my own life. For one thing, he strongly advises his audience to never lose that child-like wonder. It’s absolutely true. If you do, you just get caught up in the tide, and in the humdrum passing of the days, where everything is just shades of gray. I think, oftentimes, it is the curse of adulthood, once we step outside of our colleges into the real world. Life threatens to be the same old story, everyday. It’s important, though, to find excitement in even the smallest, most seemingly mundane things. Even on my commute, I find myself staring out the window, trying to pick up on this and that that flies by as we head to Penn (or head home), or just let my mind run a little wild, contemplating this and that. Everything has the potential to be amazing, it’s just a question of how we approach it. If I find myself getting swept away, I just have to remember Randy Pausch, and how he was able to see everything in a new, awe-inspiring way
Helping others and doing the right thing seem to be things that we should be adhering to, but it’s surprising how many people drop the ball. Karma is something I strongly believe in, though that’s not the only reason one should do the right thing. It’s a question of the act itself, not the rewards it may potentially bring.
Ultimately the one thing that really touched me from his last lecture is the premise of putting others before yourself. He demonstrated that visibly by leading the entire audience in singing happy birthday to his wife. Yet even in day to day things, we can put the needs of others above our own. Humans are social beings, to deny our connection to other people, and to subvert that connection for our own gain does go against what it means to be human. Sure, we do have to look out for ourselves on occasion (otherwise we ultimately perish, literally or figuratively) but in serving others, we become better people.
Part of me wants to think Randy Pausch was, in a sense, enlightened all along. He seemed to conduct his life with a strong awareness of what he expected of life, and what life expected of him. Part of me thinks that his fight with cancer hastened the enlightenment process. Perhaps it was a little of both. He was certainly an extraordinary man, who led an extraordinary life, yet maintained a sense of humility that most people in his position fail to have.
It’s unfortunate that those who are truly an inspiration to humanity inevitably end up being taken away from us too soon. It is fortunate, however, that we have the means to immortalize those people and the wisdom that they preach. Indeed, the video of the last lecture has 10 million or so views. I’ve personally watched it twice, and I cried both times. It wasn’t really so much the inevitability of his death, but the manner in which he handled it that so moved me. He smiled, joked, laughed, and reminisced, even treating his impending death light-heartedly. Cancer wasn’t an end, it was a beginning.
It is partly because of Randy Pausch that I still dare to dream, even if the dream seems walled off by brick walls. Like he said, brick walls are there to test the strength of our resolve, and our devotion to the dream. Nothing is ever impossible, as he demonstrates by admitting that he was not accepted to Carnegie Mellon for graduate school. However, he was persistent, and eventually ended up going. As the 1st anniversary of his death approaches, I hope that new people, as well as people who have already seen the video, become inspired by the wisdom he so willingly gave.
Here is the video, for those who haven’t seen it, and those who want to see it again: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo
I first heard about Project Remix last year–or at least the collection of nascent ideas that would eventually become Remix–from one of the creators, who is also a good friend of mine. I was immediately sold on the idea, which was to create a site that provided resources and information to Desi (South-Asian) youth. A site created by the Indian youth for the Indian youth.
The official site launched recently, though it had already started generating buzz among our peers when it had made its first foray into the collective consciousness. Currently there are sections for cuts, cultural media, and articles. The cuts feature mixes used by various student groups and collegiate dance teams (bhangra, raas, Indian fusion, etc.) from across the country. Cultural media highlights video performances from various collegiate groups. The articles on Project Remix have been broken down into smaller categories and initiatives, devoted to everything from the arts to sports (currently I’m contributing to Team Innovate’s Neurobio series so be sure to check that out!). Examples of articles currently up on the website include my neurobio piece (an overview of neuroscience), a two-part series on biofuels, a review of Slumdog Millionaire, and a piece recounting a trip to Chennai to volunteer.
Project Remix is seeking new, fresh voices that can contribute to the site in any capacity. If you are a writer or blogger who is interested in appearing on the website, you can email projectremixny at gmail dot com. For any other questions, you can also send an email to the aforementioned address. The website is http://www.projectremix.org.
In addition, you can follow Project Remix on Twitter @ProjectRemix for updates.
I am Indian.
I am American.
Am I one? Am I the other? Am I both?
I think I started seriously thinking about it a few months ago, when the marriage talk took on a new level of urgency. I’m supposed to marry a Malayalee Nair guy. They prefer I marry someone from India. I prefer I marry someone from here. Does it make a difference? What do I want for my children?
I am of two minds. On one hand, I am in love with Malayalee culture, its uniqueness, its richness, and its resilience through millennia. I have learned both Carnatic music and two forms of classical dance. I am Hindu, and Hindu with a decidedly South Indian flair (and yes there are regional differences). I want to make sure my children are raised in that culture.
Yet on the other hand, I am in love with aspects of American culture, because it really is a portal to other cultures due to the proverbial melting pot of American society. I love baseball and football (no, not soccer), have decidedly multicultural culinary tastes, and have a doggedly American sense of independence and individuality. I’m a registered Democrat and have little to no idea about Indian politics. I know Shashi Tharoor won in Kerala, Kerala is no longer communist, and the Congress Party is still in power. Beyond that, I’m stumped. I understood cricket for a grand total of 2 weeks following watching “Lagaan” after which I returned to my original opinion (originally Robin Williams’) that “cricket is basically baseball on valium.” My music tastes are varied, but if I go to Pandora to pick a station, it is ultimately a rock station. Even as far as marriage goes, I’ve come to accept (heck, embrace) the idea that you really do need to get to know the person you’re going to marry, even if it is arranged. Perhaps it comes from living in a culture so devoted to dating.
Yet there are days where saying “our” with regard to India-related things feels right, and others where it feels awkward and foreign. Likewise for American. So what is the deciding factor that puts a person squarely in one world or another?
For me, I think I’m more comfortable being identified as an American of Indian origin, rather than an Indian. Yes, my skin is brown, my hair is black, I “look” Indian, but when I speak, I’m American. On most counts, I don’t feel comfortable when I go back to India. Culturally, I can hold my own in certain things. Yet there is one glaring exception: language. Perhaps that is the one thing that will keep me from really feeling…Indian. Yes, I can manage some conversation, but most is grammatically abysmal, and is done more for comic effect or satisfying my grandmother, whose English is about as good as my Malayalam. I can’t find linguistic common ground with my relatives when I go back. Most of them speak English very well, but there’s a certain level of cultural intimacy that only comes with speaking in one’s mother tongue. Maybe that’s what keeps me from being “fully Indian.”
I suppose I walk the line between Indian and American, though I’d like to think that perhaps, I’ve created my own cultural identity that happens to be squarely between both worlds. It is not set in stone, but fluid, sopping up whatever I find that is both rich and profound.
To those among you who are first-generation Americans, or were raised in a multicultural household, do you identify with your birth country’s culture, your parents’ culture(s), or do you fashion your own?
I almost want to feel bad for this girl. The operative word here is “almost.”
Two weeks ago, Carrie Prejean emerged onto the scene as the winner of the Miss California pageant. She strutted and sashayed her way through the competition, until one question, the proverbial shot heard ’round the world. In response to a question by Perez Hilton regarding her views on gay marriage, she responded as follows:
Well I think it’s great that Americans are able to choose one way or the other. We live in a land where you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. You know what, in my country, in my family, I do believe that marriage should be between a man and a woman, no offense to anybody out there. But that’s how I was raised and I believe that it should be between a man and a woman.
I guess if it were any other question where she was the underdog as far as prevailing (and accepted) viewpoints go, I would have applauded her for having the guts to go ahead and possibly piss off a whole legion of people by sticking to her guns. Except this question was about gay marriage…and her answer, though her own honest opinion, was not appropriate in that forum, on that national stage. I think even if she stood by her views but accepted the possibility of gay marriages being a legitimate possibility in this country, it would have been ok. Yet her awkward phrasing of gay marriage as “opposite marriage” and the addition of the every-popular (but never effective) “no offense” made clear that her views on gay marriage are absolute, and negative. She ultimately lost the crown, but gained a whole new legion of fans, mostly the same people who brought us Proposition 8, and are threatening to halt progress in its tracks. She has stuck by her views on marriage, claiming she is a Christian, and those are her beliefs and felt that she was unfairly discriminated against due to her answer at the competition.
Then came the revelation that she had breast implants funded by the pageant prior to the national competition. Talk about role model, and a proponent of natural beauty (as opposed to plastic and silicone-enhanced beauty). Great person for girls to look up to.
Then came the pictures.
The topless pictures that are very much against pageant rules in the state of California (and possibly everywhere?). Prejean claims this is just a ploy on the part of those who oppose her views and her Christianity. She says that being a model and being a Christian is possible, that they are not mutually exclusive titles. While I’m tempted to outright deny it, I’m not a Christian, so I’m not going to touch that issue with a ten-foot pole. I’ll leave that for the Christians to debate.
Miss USA competitors are supposed to be role models for girls across the country. In an age where progress is gathering momentum, where love–straight or gay–is being acknowledged in public circles and in the context of state governments, trying to say that one kind of love trumps another is just wrong. Not even being open to the possibility is just wrong. Progress is about opening yourself up to change, not rigidly holding on to the past at the cost of hindering society’s movement upward.
While (apparently) implants are not taboo in pageants, getting breast implants right before the Miss USA pageant doesn’t sit well with me. Whatever happened to the idea of natural beauty? What will the thousands of girls think when they realize that her breasts are fake. Will they think that beauty only comes with surgical intervention? That beauty, ultimately, has a price tag? Really, implants shouldn’t be allowed in beauty pageants, it just defeats the purpose in my eyes…where the purpose is identifying role models for girls everywhere.
The pictures, though, are a clear violation of pageant rules, no matter how you spin it. If, as she says, it was just lingerie, then the pageant should be flooded with more girls who have modeling experience in that area. Whether or not the rules should change (since after all, pageant participants do model in two-piece bathing suits) should be decided for next year’s competitors. Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is with partial nudity, but when you’re dealing with hard and fast rules and you flagrantly go against them, you should relinquish your title.
On a side note, poor Miss North Carolina i.e. Miss USA 2009, the limelight was unfairly stolen from her and cast on Miss California because of the controversy she has generated. I hope she fares well in the Miss Universe pageant.
We really are a bunch of celebrity-worshippers.
Don’t deny it, you know it’s true.
Our society is structured around which celebrity is marrying whom, who has children, who (heaven forbid) had a sordid affair, or an even more sordid divorce battle. Brangelina’s on Long Island, Lindsay’s between relationships, Britney’s being Britney, A-Rod’s being pretentious, etc. etc. Even political pundits and others who wouldn’t normally have (willingly) joined the fray have been dragged in. Everyone who has had a few seconds of fame in front of a camera or on a bestseller list is worthy of worship, as far as our society is concerned. Sometimes this brings out the more unsavory elements among us, i.e. the stalkers who can range from the harmless fans to the ones who would literally kill for attention (i.e. Reagan’s almost assassin/Jodie Foster stalker John Hinckley Jr.).
This is not limited to the United States or the Western World, each society has its own, worshipable elite. Shahrukh Khan is a veritable deity in India, and unsurprisingly, Amitabh Bachchan has actually been worshipped as one.
It is just a hair ridiculous, how much we may devote our time to checking the tabloids for the latest, juicy piece of gossip, and how we idolize people who aren’t that different from us (give or take a few million dollars of course). Some aren’t even that worthy of being idolized, like Kim Kardashian, Paris Hilton, and others who only have a hefty inheritance and a few sex tapes to their name.
With social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter, accessing these celebrities is a much easier task. Twitter, especially, eliminates that wall of privacy between celebrities and their devoted throng of followers (for better or worse). Sometimes that means seeing a more human side of a celebrity that makes them feel a bit more real to us, sometimes it means revealing things about the inner workings of their mind that may turn us off to them.
I’m not one to celebrity-worship, and yet I still get just a tad excited when someone “famous” follows me on Twitter. Even though I’m not a fan of celebrity-worship, I idolize a few, although a select few. I think it’s in our nature to have idols, more as something to work towards. I still can’t wrap my head around people who idol worship just because “they’re hot.” That being said, here are my top 10 celebrities (and I use the term very loosely) I would LOVE to meet, and my reasons (in no particular order):
1. Keith Olbermann: My favorite Cornell alum, and possibly one of the most erudite people in the news business today. He has a knack for wearing his heart on his sleeve and showing his feelings about the state of affairs without foaming at the mouth like other similar figures (*cough* Bill O’Reilly *cough*).
2. Rachel Maddow: Takes news to a whole new level of awesome with her laid-back style. She’s also incredibly intelligent, obviously evidenced by her holding a Ph.D and being a Rhodes Scholar.
3. Robin Williams: Genius. I have not seen any actor who can be as wildly funny as he is, while also managing to nail serious roles just as well. Just watching his stand-up routines makes one realize just how ridiculously smart he must be to be able to string together so many (somehow relevant) thoughts together, reaching across disciplines and cultures within the course of maybe a few seconds.
4. Benjamin Carson: To put it simply, I want to be him, but I know I have a long road ahead if I even want to be half of what he is. He is unbelievably humble despite being so skilled at his job, as one of the world’s best pediatric neurosurgeons, and he only reached that position after a lifetime of hardship and discrimination. To fare so well in a field that is so risky speaks volumes about his abilities as a surgeon.
5. Vilayanur Ramachandran: If he doesn’t get a Nobel Prize, I will be thoroughly disappointed. His research on phantom limbs lead to a greater understanding of so-called “mirror neurons.” I highly recommend his book Phantoms in the Brain.
6. Hugh Laurie: Not just because he plays the best doctor on TV, but he also seems like a genuinely nice (and very smart) guy. I vaguely knew of him from a few episodes of Blackadder, but he has been brilliant as House M.D. There’s something about self-deprecating, pathologically understated, and sometimes borderline-inappropriate British humor that I love. He’s also a great pianist.
7. Dr. M. Balamuralikrishna: Undoubtedly one of the best Carnatic vocalists alive today, he has a sense of humility that serves to ground not only himself, but everyone around him. Humility is always a wonderful quality for anyone to possess, let alone people in the limelight. Extra cool fact: he’s very interested in music therapy. Anyone who recognizes the therapeutic significance of music is cool in my book.
8. Kal Penn: I’ll admit, I didn’t think he was that big of a deal, but I guess my prior opinion was colored by his less-than-cerebral character choices (though I LOVED Harold and Kumar). I saw him on Rachel Maddow’s show, and it goes without saying that he is an incredibly smart guy. He definitely has his head in the right place, opting for public service over acting when the opportunity presented itself. It’s great that the Asian-American community has such a famous face as the liaison between them and the White House. I’m not sure if Asian-American health issues are quite his domain, but it would be something well worth addressing (did a paper on it myself for a class).
9. Anthony Bourdain: Undoubtedly the one who gave the culinary experience its spine back after the Food Network lost it, perhaps in a pool of “e.v.o.o” (cannot stand Rachel Ray). Rough, rugged, well-read, and open to all possibilities (except vegetarian fare…something that I think he’s coming around to), he is the everyman’s chef.
10. Norah Jones: One of the few people in the music industry to have not sold out. She has such a beautiful, earthy voice coupled with her great piano-playing abilities, and she’s also probably one of the few people who keeps her music simple, but classy. As much as I love Christina Aguilera and Mariah Carey’s ability to add vocal flourishes and riffs with such ease (I’m guilty of trying to do that when I sing…and I’m even more guilty of failing when I try), sometimes it’s nice to just be straightforward.
And one more for good measure…
11. Russell Peters: Master of mimicry, accents, and general humor. A lot of comedians have a knack for nailing accents, but Russell Peters has a knack for integrating various cultural quirks into his act. No, he’s not a racist, he’s an equal-opportunist, picking on any and every group of people (including most notably, Indians). Why? We are all that diverse and sometimes when we look in with another pair of eyes, we can all be that bizarre. Sometimes we just need to laugh at ourselves.
Yes, noticeably absent are people from Bollywood/other Indian cinema. Why? Well I just don’t know what they’re like, they seem mostly full of fluff, and not much else. Maybe when I know more about them, I can make a better judgment call.
So I guess for me, I don’t care how much money a person makes, but a person’s intellectual worth is very important. I don’t mean just degrees and educational pedigree but a general understanding of the world around them. Equally important is one’s humility and devotion to the art or science that they are pursuing. If you can’t be humble, it doesn’t matter how much talent or knowledge you may have, you are not worth being idolized. Yet people will continue to idolize the most pointless people, because of their monetary worth, supposed good looks, and questionable talent.
I guess that’s just how society is, and will be.
At least that’s what I think Betty Brown’s request to the Asian-American community was. Shorten your names, she says, so it’s easier for the rest of us to pronounce. How about learn to pronounce their names, Betty? It’s not as though American names are necessarily easy to pronounce if the people trying to pronounce them weren’t raised among people with those names.
I was born and brought up in New York, and in every single year of schooling, had to deal with a handful of colorful attempts at pronouncing my name. I didn’t give myself a nickname, though most of my friends did (and many were longer than my real name), and I didn’t Anglicize any part of my name (even though going from Saroj to Sarah isn’t a huge jump in letters). I love my name, I love what it means, I love its distinctively Hindu flair, and I won’t change it for anything just like I won’t change anything else about myself to meet someone else’s inability to pronounce my name and/or compromise with my cultural background.
Changing one’s name, especially from say, something Chinese or Sanskrit to something European, may not be a big deal for some people. Some people choose names that aren’t necessarily “part” of their culture, because the name sounds pretty or the meaning of the name is deep. That’s fine, since it is after all, a voluntary decision. Yet for me, being forced to change one’s name is akin to cultural castration. For me, it’s more than a change in name, it’s a change in identity. How would I be viewed if my name was forcibly changed to Sarah, and how would I view myself?
Betty, how about I ask you to change your name to say…Bhagyalakshmi. It’s certainly easier for some Indians to pronounce, and I know Texas has a lot of Indians. Your district also has a fair percentage of Hispanic people, a name change to Beatriz would certainly be appreciated by them. Perhaps, Bao-Zhai or another East-Asian name, to appease the Asian-American population not just in Texas, but around the country, that you have so offended.
Do you see how a name change can change more than just a few letters on a driver’s license or another piece of ID? Try learning to pronounce the names of your constituents, diverse though they may be, and take another step towards fully appreciating the melting pot that is American society.
Women doctors have made amazing strides in the field, where only half a century earlier, it was almost exclusively dominated by men. Yet while the doors have opened to women doctors in most aspects, there is one notable exception: motherhood.
My favorite story of women breaking into this, male-dominated field is the one of Agnodice, who disguised herself as a man so that she could study medicine in ancient Greece. Many girls want to grow up to be both well-regarded doctors and wonderful mothers, but it seems that for the most part, they can’t have their cake and eat it too. Men can enter whatever field they want with little consequence, women must make sacrifices. I acknowledge that this seems to be changing, but the pace is still painfully slow.
To paraphrase a professor of mine, the world is still cruel to women. They are encouraged to pursue their career and focus on it with razor sharp focus, while their biological clocks tick away, independent of any aspirations they may develop down the road to start a family. Once the residency and fellowship parade is over (as the case were for aspiring doctors), and a woman is ready to start a family, it may already be too late. I’m all for women being driven and seizing life by the horns, but sometimes the cost is pretty great.
And then, there is me and those like me, who are from immigrant families who insist upon marriage and having at least the first child before age 30. If I am lucky, I will enter medical school at 24, take four years, and enter whatever specialty I can. Depending on what specialty that is, the years devoted to residencies and fellowships may be as low as 3 or as high as 6-7. People can say “Rebel! Blaze your own trail, do what you need to do to get what you want.” Yet in cultures where filial piety is prized and expected, it is far harder to go against the grain, even when your own wishes may be at stake. How does one reconcile cultural and societal obligations with the rigors of medical school/further training?
From what I can gather (and please correct me if I’m wrong) but several residencies tend to not look kindly on women who are pregnant or who have very young children. Each specialty requires a certain number of years of training. It makes sense, of course, that the more high-stakes residencies (for example neurosurgery) would probably require more time to train physicians in that field. Obviously I’d want my neurosurgeon (heaven forbid that I need one) to have had rigorous training. Yet there are 194 certified women neurosurgeons, out of something like 3000 neurosurgeons in total in the U.S. The difference between those numbers is alarming. It’s enough to discourage most women from even entertaining the idea of going down that road, but I’m not like most women. Many women seem to end up vying for the more “family-friendly” positions like family physician or pediatrician, or at least ones that finish up training quickly.
I am not one of those people, I’m aiming for one of the neuro residencies (neurosurgery if I can help it).* I love the complicated nature of the field, and yes, I love the potentially maddening level of stress that’s involved. It’s a field I greatly respect and I want to be a part of, but could potentially be turned away because I want to devote the same kind of attention to my family.
I went to a seminar being conducted at SUNY Downstate, giving advice for medical students as to when they should get married and start families. Literally, the window of opportunity was a few months at best for both, where the birth of a child could potentially set students back a year. Clearly under these restrictions, days-long, traditional Indian weddings are out the window. If I were to get pregnant year 3 or 4, that could be potentially problematic, whereas the first two years were a bit better (but by no means ideal). Heaven forbid you wanted to take care of your child until they were at least more communicative or mobile, and when their fear of strangers was under control (Piagetian child psychology sets this at around 2 years of age). Then perhaps the babysitter could be introduced, if you don’t mind having a babysitter or nanny (I do mind). Children are for many people, a vital part of their lives, and they have the right to get as much time early on with their parents as they can. Yet as far as I can tell, the policy seems to be to leave everything to after you start practicing. That’s great for some people, but others are (still) bound by age-old traditions and (sometimes antiquated though biologically sound) cultural expectations regarding marriage and childbirth.
Hopefully, the domination by men that still seems to be inherent will continue to be addressed, and will encourage more women to live their lives a bit more easily while pursuing their dreams. If any women doctors come across this, I’d love to hear your perspective, given that mine is pretty limited.
*This is all contingent on my getting into medical school. I’m not going to crow about medicine without putting in that little point in there, I’m not in medical school yet. Hopefully I will be soon, gotta take it one step at a time. Even contemplating residencies is a long way off, but it can’t hurt to start contemplating a little now! 
I think, at first, I wasn’t a huge fan of Twitter. It seemed like it was Facebook stripped down to just the status updates. Yet, I’ve slowly come to like Twitter after having used it for somewhere around two months. Really though, you either love it, or you hate it. I think I may love it.
Twitter represents the next best thing and the next worst thing as far as technology goes.
First, the best. It takes networking to the next level, putting you in contact with people with similar interests (and even opposite interests) more readily than even Facebook. Among my followers, I have many neuroscientists, doctors, bloggers, baristas, and just generally cool people. A lot of their tweets are relevant to my interests, and I gain a lot from my association with them (and I hope the same is true for them). Twitter also introduces new ways to forward interesting tweets (retweet or RT) and categorize them (hashtags #).
Now, the worst. Where AIM started the move to truncate the English language with its lols and rofls and lmaos, Twitter continues it, and then some. Its 140 character limit forces users to be especially clever in how they shorten their words. For someone like me, who prefers writing in (relatively) grammatically-correct, whole sentences, it makes me cringe just a little to see the preponderance of “u” over “you” and “2″ over “too.”
Then, there are the Twitterers themselves.
Looking at a snapshot of tweets from any given period of time gives you a wide range of people from all parts of the globe, spanning a wide range of ages, languages, and different occupations. It is, quite literally, a slice through the collective consciousness of humanity (at least the percentage who is on Twitter). There are many different types of people who Twitter, at least as far as I can ascertain (all attempts at clever names are my own creation):
1. The Twitter whores: The ones who voraciously seek out followers and update every 5-10 min, mostly with unbelievably useless nonsense. The number of people they follow far outstrips the number who follow them. They may or may not be trying to promote a website. They also are probably permanently welded to their Blackberrys.
2. Passive Twitterers: The ones who update, but not very often, and acquire followers with the same intensity of a tumbleweed blowing through the desert. Most of their followers are Twitter whores.
3. “Mountains from molehill” Twitterers: These are the ones who update often, mostly making a big deal about the mind-numbingly boring details from their lives. They may or may not seek out followers. Most come to them, many of them are Twitter whores.
4. Genuine Twitterers: Those who tweet only with curious or interesting links or facts, seeking to enlighten those who may read them.
5. Organization Twitterers: Institutions, schools, government agencies (ex. NYC MTA) who tweet updates of relevance to those associated with them in some way (ex. those who travel by the MTA).
6. Celebetwits: Celebrities who may or may not be writing their own tweets. They have legions of followers, many of whom are under the delusion that they and the celebrity in question are actually friends. Some, though, actually are right.
I am not sure where I fall (though I’m definitely not 6 and I’d like to think I’m not 1). I probably vacillate between 3 and 4, sometimes leaning toward 3 since my life just isn’t that interesting on a regular basis. The same goes for most grad students I suppose.
So it looks like Twitter is here to stay, and won’t go the way of the dodo. I’m curious to see what evolution (if any) Twitter will undergo next.
P.S. If you’d like to follow my updates on Twitter, the feed is on the left side of this blog. Otherwise, you can access my tweets here.
Oh PETA, oh PETA, with your naked protests and fake blood and…sea kittens. You mean well, but you come across as so…strange. There are better ways to draw attention to the plight of animals, and to encourage vegetarianism.
Most of your protests seem to be something more along the lines of trench warfare, getting down and dirty in crafting your next move. You tend to go for the shock value, trying to get at people’s guts rather than their hearts, with some success. I can’t deny, many a vegetarian has been created after visiting your website or watching your protests. Nothing wrong with creating vegetarians, most became vegetarian after learning about the violent nature of the meat and poultry industry, and depriving the industry of that insatiable demand for meat (and I suppose fur and other animal-derived products) is the best way to reduce these practices. Yet you haven’t shied away from using violent (throwing fake blood at people wearing furs) and underhanded methods in expressing your discontent with the industry as a whole, which seems to defeat the purpose of PETA. People are, after all, animals too.
I think what set me off is this article from Newsday, about a PETA protest at an elementary school in Hempstead, a town on Long Island. It’s one thing to target adults, who are at a point in their lives where they have the ability to grapple with the (often horrifying) details of animal mistreatment. It’s another thing to target young children, who are still vulnerable and cannot necessarily handle all those realities. What a way to target them too! Protesters dressed up as circus animals and handed out coloring books entitled “Circuses are not fun for animals.” Seriously PETA? Do you know what the ramifications are of that? These kids are young, they can’t logically say “oh I won’t go to the circus because they mistreat animals” and not run through the other, dizzying possibilities that exist, real or imagined. Let kids have their childhood, leave it to the adults to initiate change…since they are in a better position to do that than the kids are. I’m surprised PETA hasn’t gone around to school cafeterias dressed up as farm animals with propaganda to inform kids that their hamburgers and hot dogs didn’t come from a quaint, little farm.
There are better ways to inform our children that what they think they know about animals in their day to day lives may not be what it seems. Why scare them, especially at such a young age? That is incredibly irresponsible. Please, if you’re not going to tone down the nature of your protests, at least keep them away from children. Leave it to their parents and teachers to choose whether to tell them or not, and how to tell them.
