Kevin Ding is a recent graduate who majored in Neuroscience and Behavioral Biology and minored in Spanish. Kevin was awarded a Fall 2016 Independent Research Grant which he used to conduct research on measuring seizure intensity under Dr. Claire-Anne Gutekunst.
Over the past semester, I’ve been carrying out research in the Neurosurgery department, studying the expression of a certain protein in the rat brain after a seizure. When I proposed my project, I tried to keep it simple. Look at the how this protein is expressed after a certain amount of time following the seizure, and see if it is a good measure for seizure intensity. The first month of research proved to me what all my previous mentors have told me in the past—even the simplest experiment can prove to be extremely difficult to carry out.
The first month of my project consisted of finding antibodies that would work and allow me to visualize the proteins of interest. One failed antibody after another, I felt like time was slipping through my hands and nothing was getting accomplished. A week’s worth of preparation would lead to nonexistent results due to a faulty antibody. I’ve included images of when my stain went very well (image1), and when, inexplicably, it turns out awfully (image2). My mentor felt my frustration, and told me that this is how research can be. Sometimes things just don’t go the way you expect them to. And sometimes they do. We live for that glorious feeling of when things finally work out and you can run through the halls shouting “Eureka!”
But that moment hasn’t happened for me, yet. I’ve spent days and nights at my lab, working more hours than I had ever anticipated. What have kept me going are the small glimmers of hope amongst a series of failed experiments. When I finally get the antibody that works, or obtain a data point that suggests my hypothesis may not be nonsense after all.
I’ve found that research takes tenacity, mental strength, and a bit of luck. A post-doctorate researcher told me that he once worked with fruit flies for three years without obtaining any substantial data. I asked him what got him through those years, and he responded, “Honestly, stupidity. I was on the verge of quitting, but I didn’t want to end this part of my career on a negative note.” Soon, he published one of the most groundbreaking papers in Nature Neuroscience on the inheritance of parental olfactory experiences, and was offered his to direct his own lab at the Yerkes Primate Research Center. His perseverance acts as a model for me to follow and shows me that we don’t always make the right choices or propose the best projects, but we experience the most growth, as an individual and as a researcher, during our times of failure.
I was also given the opportunity to ask a group of researchers the question of what they do to overcome roadblocks and failures that occur so often in the field of scientific research during a recent scholarship interview. The interview ended with my question, and the panel seemed to agree that their tenacity stems from their passion and love for the field, and their conviction that their hypotheses are correct.
Ultimately, conducting independent research at Emory for my honors thesis through the SIRE Independent Research Grant has allowed me to experience how difficult research can be. I’ve also had the opportunity to learn an incredible amount about seizure mechanisms and epilepsy, in addition to designing well thought out experiments. Although I haven’t had the most success in terms of positive data, this experience has been rewarding nonetheless.
Visit the Undergraduate Research Programs website to learn more about applying for Independent Research Grants.
Over the past semester, I’ve been carrying out research in the Neurosurgery department, studying the expression of a certain protein in the rat brain after a seizure. When I proposed my project, I tried to keep it simple. Look at the how this protein is expressed after a certain amount of time following the seizure, and see if it is a good measure for seizure intensity. The first month of research proved to me what all my previous mentors have told me in the past—even the simplest experiment can prove to be extremely difficult to carry out.
The first month of my project consisted of finding antibodies that would work and allow me to visualize the proteins of interest. One failed antibody after another, I felt like time was slipping through my hands and nothing was getting accomplished. A week’s worth of preparation would lead to nonexistent results due to a faulty antibody. I’ve included images of when my stain went very well (image1), and when, inexplicably, it turns out awfully (image2). My mentor felt my frustration, and told me that this is how research can be. Sometimes things just don’t go the way you expect them to. And sometimes they do. We live for that glorious feeling of when things finally work out and you can run through the halls shouting “Eureka!”
But that moment hasn’t happened for me, yet. I’ve spent days and nights at my lab, working more hours than I had ever anticipated. What have kept me going are the small glimmers of hope amongst a series of failed experiments. When I finally get the antibody that works, or obtain a data point that suggests my hypothesis may not be nonsense after all.
I’ve found that research takes tenacity, mental strength, and a bit of luck. A post-doctorate researcher told me that he once worked with fruit flies for three years without obtaining any substantial data. I asked him what got him through those years, and he responded, “Honestly, stupidity. I was on the verge of quitting, but I didn’t want to end this part of my career on a negative note.” Soon, he published one of the most groundbreaking papers in Nature Neuroscience on the inheritance of parental olfactory experiences, and was offered his to direct his own lab at the Yerkes Primate Research Center. His perseverance acts as a model for me to follow and shows me that we don’t always make the right choices or propose the best projects, but we experience the most growth, as an individual and as a researcher, during our times of failure.
I was also given the opportunity to ask a group of researchers the question of what they do to overcome roadblocks and failures that occur so often in the field of scientific research during a recent scholarship interview. The interview ended with my question, and the panel seemed to agree that their tenacity stems from their passion and love for the field, and their conviction that their hypotheses are correct.
Ultimately, conducting independent research at Emory for my honors thesis through the SIRE Independent Research Grant has allowed me to experience how difficult research can be. I’ve also had the opportunity to learn an incredible amount about seizure mechanisms and epilepsy, in addition to designing well thought out experiments. Although I haven’t had the most success in terms of positive data, this experience has been rewarding nonetheless.
Visit the Undergraduate Research Programs website to learn more about applying for Independent Research Grants.
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