Working in a research lab is often one of the most exotic and/or intimidating prospects in the minds of those who enter college with the intention of studying the natural sciences. I assume that whether you’re in a lab doing experimental work, theoretical work, computational work, biology work, chemistry work, history (it’s a course; look it up) or any other type of work, it might feel a bit daunting to wade into the intellectual morass that is the world of university-based professional research.
After all, the people you ultimately have to speak to in order to secure positions in these labs are typically famous intellects, seasoned veterans who succeeded long ago in making their names dredging the murky depths of ill-understood natural mechanisms and obscure trends for the majority of their—more often than not—rather venerable lives. Just how exactly does one broach the topic of whether they might be able to work in such an environment?
If you expect this article to be a treatise on how one actually gets into research, I’m afraid I can’t really help you all that much. My experience with getting into my particular lab was marred by an extremely debilitating sense of awkwardness, since I initially didn’t really know how to approach my PI like a normal human being, nor was he specifically trained in the ways of communicating with socially uncoordinated 18-21 year-olds. I personally just fell into the position after submitting vague queries to my current PI every few weeks for a while, talking with the constituent members of my current lab about their own work and ultimately asking, “Hey, can you teach me some of that sweet wizardry?” to a number of the post-docs and graduate students present. Don’t emulate me on this front.
Being straight up about what you might be interested in doing experiment-wise and perhaps seeing if anybody is doing something similar would be a preferable route towards finding work in a research lab. Don’t skimp on sending emails to professors either, since not doing so is kind of a death sentence.
I suppose if anything, the most important advice I might be able to give a curious undergraduate would be to find something that genuinely interests them, such that they’ll be willing to spend a few hundred hours doing it over the course of their college career. Cliche as it may sound, this is arguably the most practical piece of advice contained within this opinions article; I’ve known people whose abilities and technical experience far outstrip mine who have nevertheless been ejected from their duties or left of their own will due to a perceived lack of interest or motivation in their work. Do not underestimate the morbid power of lethargy. From what I’ve seen, if you want to do research, you ought to be ready to set aside a rather significant portion of your weekly schedule for it, lest you anger the powers above and/or get very little done. It just so happens that the process is a good deal easier, should you actually derive a reasonable sense of satisfaction from it.
You’ll also be tired all the time because—hey—you’re still in college and all your other obligations still exist.
Aside from the actual execution of experiments and doing benchwork or writing stuff at your desk in the physical lab, there are other pretty cool things that go on about as well. Each week a lab will hold a lab meeting, where someone will present the findings they’d gathered since they’d last presented. At mine, there’s also always a dessert rotation schedule where somebody provides the lab with some sort of fruit or light pastry. I guess the idea of the lab meeting is pretty self-explanatory; I personally bring a notebook to take notes, since I still have a bit of trouble understanding experiments that explore questions that aren’t really that related to mine.
Aside from that, there are also inter-departmental/departmental pizza talks in which people present their findings to a large group of people whose members exceed that of a single lab. They’re basically the same in my estimation, only they feel a little more official because they take place in bigger rooms and eponymously provide pizza for those who decide to attend. Also, more questions at the end.
All in all, that’s my cursory opinion on working in a research lab. Perhaps I’ll come back to this topic another day and delve deeper into the subtler details of what I actually do and of the colorful melange of people I’ve met, but for now, I hope I’ve given you a superficial idea of just what to expect from these surprisingly informal bastions of scientific progression.
