Another step on my way to the goal - A celebration of sorts.

[ReuvenB]

So last week I joined the American Physical Society, which, though everyone has given me grief about it, is actually for physicists, not just physical people. (Go ahead, make the joke anyway, I know you want to.) It occurred to me that I was one step closer to my ultimate goal-- actually being a scientist. I have a little card now, and everything. I’m just going to take this time now to list the things I will be able to do once I am an Official Scientist[sup]TM[/sup].

-Work in a real laboratory.
-Write physics stuff that most people can’t understand.
-Hi Opal.
-Yell “Stand back, man! I’m a scientist!” in dangerous/comical situations.
-Work with really big magnets.
-Play with powerful lasers.
-Speak in jargon so dense that you couldn’t hack your way out with a machete.
-Discover fundamental properties of nature.
-Become a Mad Scientist[sup]TM[/sup].

I’m a little dazzled with the possibilities. To give this thread a point I’ll ask a question, too:
At what point did you realize that what you do in your life might actually make a difference in the world?

[eleanorigby]

I haven’t come to that conclusion yet. I suppose I’ve touched many lives through my being an RN, but I don’t see it. Afterall, if not me, then it would have been someone else…

Congrats on the Let’s Get Physical Thing. Are leg warmers optional?

[Spice_Weasel]

I love scientists. Your post makes me happy.

At what point did you realize that what you do in your life might actually make a difference in the world?

Will never forget that day as long as I live. I was 23 (huh, last year), I had been away almost two years from college because of medical issues, and had been working for 8 months to prepare all of the documentation necessary to get back in for Summer 2006. I’m talking some serious bureaucratic wrangling. My connections in the system told me point blank that they made it next-to-impossible on purpose, that it was intended to be difficult and exhausting to be re-admitted even for a medical leave of absence, because you had to prove yourself.

You have to understand, I am a person who is easily discouraged, but at the same time extremely persistent. Little things just seem freaking impossible sometimes, but I just pick myself up and go in for more.

I finally got my letter from the Board of Academic Standards accepting me back into college, and then realized I had about a half an hour to get to the Office of Financial Aid to apply for grants and loans for the Summer term. I had been running all over campus that day, and was out of breath as I slogged toward OFA.

It started to rain. Hard. The rain was sloshing in the streets and I had no umbrella, wearing only sandals. By the time I got to the OFA, clutching my little paperwork folder in my hands, my jeans were soaked clean up to the knee and I was freezing and shaking. Emotionally, I was a wreck–discouraged as hell, thinking, ‘‘My god, it never stops, does it? My life is never actually going to be easy.’’

Right then, in that moment, I got it. In that one instant I suddenly objectively saw all the shit I had managed to pull myself through, despite every single obstacle imaginable being thrown in my way. I saw everything, suddenly, differently-- my life was no longer hard just for the sake of torturing me.

It was hard for the sake of preparing me.

Because I realized to make it through the things I have, to struggle on days where I didn’t even feel like walking out the front door–but did anyways–that is the stuff that leadership is made of. I remember thinking my ideal leader was someone with perseverance, compassion and competence–and realizing everything in my life had been set up to make me into that leader.

I don’t know what the hell I’ll end up doing with my life, but I promise you it’s going to mean something.

[illoe]

A year or so ago, APS members voted on whether to change the public referent of the initialism to “American Physics Society.” And although the ballot made it clear that they weren’t going to change the titles of the Physical Review Journals or anything similarly rash, I guess the nays had it.

I don’t know that I’ll ever make a difference in the world on any grand or significant scale, but I cackle with glee when I remember the first time I used integral calculus outside of class, and shiver with happiness thinking of my own eigenvectors, and I fondly recall the gentle residues from the first integral I took over the upper half of the complex plane to advance one small step in a research problem. I still can’t believe they pay me to do this stuff.

Sounds like you’ll fit right in…