The First 60 Days

So it’s been a while since this official break-up with cancer research and I am still stunned. It’s like getting hit by a truck and learning, much later, that I’m still alive. But the Pipette Itch is slowly but surely subsiding, and I am really glad that the era of lab coats is so over. My petri dishes have been replaced with sketchbooks; my beakers with acid-free portfolios. The only other person that comes to mind who has done this much self-reinvention is Madonna.

I guess when one comes out of what she perceives is her biggest failure, she will do everything in her power to make up for it. I’ve gone through a big slice of my Strategic Plan (I had to submit one before I got here) and it’s only been a few weeks. It has become clear to me that the past couple of months have been of atonement, of reassuring myself that this was not a mistake, that I am finally doing what I am supposed to do at this point in time. It is a bit like making up for lost time, since I was so unproductive yet exhausted for a year in the Lab from Hell. To slack off at this point would only prove them right.

I’ve often wondered why I chose the lab in the first place, when creativity is something that came naturally. I guess I thought that science was more original than it is now. I believed that I would be able to do something far more inspired when I chose research over the typical medical school track, which I’ve often viewed as a box. Instead, I ended up jumping from one box to the next. The ivory tower of the academe is still a box, only bigger yet oddly with less space.

I like to think that my time in science served as a phase to toughen me up, such that almost everything else is a walk in the park. Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times once said that “One of the best preparations of life is a strong dose of humility.” Man, is that ever true. When you think you know where you’re going, then the path shifts unexpectedly, the feeling of enlightenment is incomparable. It makes you release all inhibitions and just take whatever added challenges that come your way. Hell, everything else went to blazes, what’s another bonfire?

Here at WYA, I keep asking for more work, and repetitively ask, perhaps to their consternation, if there’s anything they’re displeased with. I’ve become less afraid of criticism. “Trust me, you guys cannot do anything to me that they haven’t done to me already.”

There are times when I feel the need to slow down. Once, after a long Sunday of art class boot camp and yoga, I accidentally tossed my iPod into the laundry. Miraculously, it’s still ok. (If this happens to you, don’t panic. Let it dry, then charge it again.)

When I’m meeting Mary (WYA Prez), I would bluntly ask her, “Are you sure I’m working hard enough? Because I’m really not dying here.” They respect my desire for balance, and I am relieved that I don’t have to feel apologetic every time taekwondo hour draws near and I run off because I don’t want to do extra push-ups. I’m glad I can live my life without having to apologize for it.

I’m a bit disconcerted that I am labeled as the creative one here, mainly because I’ve been the scientific geek all my life. It’s just weird. Everything I’ve done here so far, I’ve done without much strategizing or long hours of brainstorming; I just do them. It’s fun. They seem happy with it so far. I think I’m mainly disturbed by the fact that they appreciate what I do, which didn’t really happen when I was in science.

I’m also wondering whether I’m having way too much fun here. As I write this, Phil, our IDO is on the phone, working on some financial project that has been going on for more than week now. Behind me is Maria, our Director of Development, who is busy meeting deadlines and following up her fundraising events. Meanwhile, I am busy tweaking my sketches on Adobe Illustrator, learning how to draw cartoon hands and wondering if my African cartoon character would look better if I painted her skin Cappuccino.

It feels a bit funny to live and work with the same people in the same place. On the positive side, I get a lot of cardio in this house. I am finally building my upper body strength the way taekwondo doesn’t do, for the simple reason that it takes all my energy to launch my ass up to the top bunk of the bed. Bulging biceps, here I come.

The people all think I’m nuts here. And liberated, too. I’ve been voted Most Likely to Do Co-Ed Naked Yoga over and over again, perhaps due to the combination of my sarcasm, yogic lifestyle, and interest in Gael Garcia Bernal’s films. This is very refreshing, considering that people thought I was going to be a nun back in high school.

The people here have to control me sometimes, because I am just way too happy for a normal person. I freaked out our entire executive board with my Extremely Exuberant E-mail (see the inaugural entry of this blog); Mary had to do some serious damage control. (I know they are traumatized, and trust me, so am I.) In another lifetime, however, I would be completely mortified, but now, it just makes perfect sense:

Only I can freak out the entire executive board of an international organization that represents a million people on the first week on the job.

I’m sure the fact that this has happened before doesn’t ease their worries.

Blue Sugar and Pink Farming Equipment

At an event we had at the WYA house last night, I figured out a way to take the WYA logo to the next diabetic level: by stenciling it onto cupcakes with blue sugar.

It's sad, but this isn't the nuttiest thing I've ever made.

The fanciness of the evening was only rivaled by the pain that my shoes were giving me. As the night went on, I came to the horrible conclusion that I need to brush up on etiquette and table manners. Years of being on the rush, all the time, have crippled my fine dining habits -- I barely know which glass is for which wine, never mind from which side of the person I should serve the food. I don't even think I know how to operate a coffee machine; I normally microwave water for two minutes, dump two teaspoons of coffee, and off I go. For someone who has plucked out brain cells, dissected embryos, and worked on complicated microscopes for hours, I found this night a bit disconcerting and educational.

I should have done what most aspiring actors do: take a waitressing job.

Later, in possibly one of the funniest snapshots of pathetic-ism, behold, WYA staff and interns (I had to hold the camera), holding the coats for the guests on their way out:

We waited for quite a while downstairs, and, feeling restless, started singing and horsing around:

***

The next day, I crawled out of bed long enough to watch one of my taekwondo teachers take his test for his fourth degree black belt. Whee! I am so inspired! He did a form with a pair of kamas, which are, hands down, way cooler than my sai. I cannot wait to get my own! They're even available in pink! This is so exciting!

WYA Seminar/Workshop Series #2: Juggling!

WYA International kicked off 2008 with a juggling workshop hosted by Viveca Gardiner, president of Playful Productions and co-founder of JuggleNYC.com.

Check out this extremely happy invitation:

Why juggling? It's one of my favorite activities to date. I met Viveca and the other Carmine Street Jugglers right after I was out of grad school, so juggling was major therapy for me.

The diversity of jugglers easily made them my favorite group of New Yorkers. How else can you find scientists, mathematicians, ex-rabbi clowns, teachers, artists and geeks all gathered together? Viveca herself has an interesting background: She was a literature major in Harvard, and has a business degree from Yale.

A few sessions with the Carminers made me realize that people juggle for a myriad of reasons. It's very therapeutic; there's something about rhythmically tossing stuff in the air that just eases headaches and stress. It's one of those exercises that integrates the right and left brain. It's a moving meditation -- yoga for the brain.

Here, some WYA members and friends begin their first juggling class:

For the workshop, I was excited because Sean, probably the best juggler I've seen in NYC, was coming. I've seen him juggle probably 10 or 11 rings at once. He never disappoints:

Here, he is demonstrating his trademark trick, the Chandelier:

I was impressed by how young they can be. Our third speaker, Kyle, is still in high school, but is already set on joining the Cirque du Soleil. Give him some clubs, and it's hard for him to stand still:



In her talk, Viveca spoke about how juggling is one of those things that no one can give to nor take away from you. It's one of the most joyful and rewarding activities. The ability to go from three balls to four depends solely on one's determination. I guess that it is for this reason that there is a lot of camaraderie among jugglers; everyone is usually more than willing to teach you, or even better, demonstrate. It's extremely addicting.

Did I mention that it also makes the brain bigger?

Meet three of the most coordinated, skilled people on the planet (From L-R: Sean, Viveca, Kyle)

Cavorting with the Carminers

New York City is home to a variety of characters, a lot of whom I’ve become quite good friends with. Martial artists, yogis, performers, visual artists, fellow vegetarians – all have been sources of comfort as well as fodder for my stories. None, however, can compare to the diversity and nuttiness exuded by one of the coolest, most skilled groups I’ve met: the Carmine Street Jugglers.

Juggling is amazing because of the diversity of people in terms of culture and career. I’ve met jugglers who are also school administrators, animators, computer geeks, mathematicians, businessmen, scientists, designers, etc. The first night I went out with these guys, I sat at a table with a nomadic delivery boy, an animator, and a depressed clown who used to be in rabbi school. I met someone who was the first woman to win the International Juggling Association's Championship. Her dad is a physicist who plays the piano, her mom is a music journalist who is a stand-up comic, and her real name is Cindy Marvell. I think I’ve found my people.

Where else can I find odd characters such as Fernando, whom I apparently first saw two years ago, in front of the American Museum of Natural History? Déjà vu ensued the moment he introduced himself to me at the Tony Dapolito Recreation Center in downtown NYC, where Carminers hang out every Thursday to toss some balls.

Fernando, circa 2005

It’s incredible to see jugglers in action because they all look so happy while doing it. You can see it in their eyes, how they can shut out the rest of the world while tossing stuff in the air, be it clubs(don’t call them pins), rings or beanbags (my personal favorite as they remind me of Chinese jacks).

I learned to juggle when I was about 11 or 12, although my skill level reached a plateau of three balls for a while. (One of my many New Year resolutions is to make it to four.) There is something very calming about it, and it helps stymie my afternoon migraines somewhat. It improves coordination, and heightens my sense of balance and symmetry. Plus, it just feels so good to learn one trick then move on to the next. Juggling has been proven to increase brain mass as well, which probably explains why a lot of mathematicians do it. As my fellow Carminer Viveca said, juggling is one of those things where we seek to make things more difficult.

Beyond the fancy tricks and the equipment jugglers are among the friendliest people. Most are willing to teach you how to perform that extra trick, or how to add another ball to your cascade. I have, however, encountered people who take it way too seriously. I will never forget the time when a ball rolled towards me, and as I bent over, this person screeched, “I’ll get it, Cathy, I’ll get it!” The polite idiot in me still picked it up and handed it to him, whereby he grabbed it from me without a word, roared “Argh!” and stomped away. This was a very valuable lesson; in some instances, be forewarned:

Never touch a juggler’s balls.

WYA Seminar/Workshop #1: Fear, Instincts and Self-Defense with HealthDefense.org’s Ken Gibson

One of the best things I love about WYA is that they can use absolutely everything I am interested in. I love learning things, especially if it’s something I can’t find in a regular school. One of my projects involves holding a seminar/workshop here in the WYA house, in which I get to apply a lot of things I’ve learned in the past two years, and where my long list of interesting acquaintances comes in handy.

The World Youth Alliance Seminar/Workshop Series (I will have to think of a catchier name for this) has the following goals:

1. To gather speakers who love what they do (i.e. live in dignity!) and let them pass on that joy to others
2. To go beyond the traditional lecture-style event and make have audience members participate by learning how to do something (no more Powerpoints, for the love of God.)
3. To gather members for a night of learning and fun

For the first workshop, held last December, one of my martial arts teachers, Ken Gibson, agreed to teach us self-defense. With two black belts – one in hapkido and one in farang mu sul, Ken has had a lot of training and experience in defending oneself. Incidentally, he was the person who inspired me to start eating healthy after attending one of this retreats. His book, “What to Feed Your Enemy,” should be out soon, and I can’t wait to get one.



As an aside, I also love how this project is allowing me to play around with graphic design again:

Learning how to defend oneself is one of the more important skills I’ve acquired since coming to NYC, where muggings are common and the detritus of humanity come out at night, preying on unsuspecting victims. I think it’s also a great thing to pass on to WYA interns who have come from all over the world.

When defending yourself or your loved ones, all inhibitions should be eliminated. All the four-letter words you know will aid you in making your attacker realize that you are not one to be messed with. The throat is one of the most sensitive areas of the body, as are the groin, and the eye (push your finger in, bend it, then yank it out). Biting, calling out for help – all the primal instincts we have are brought out once we experience fear.

It was interesting seeing WYA's fall interns, particularly the ones who are usually so poised, get out of their comfort zones.

I only hope they never have to use what they've learned.

Kicking Butt, with Dignity

After a year of living on my own in New York City, I returned to what would be the turning point of my leaving academia: taekwondo. I was about 13 when I last trained. The worst thing that happened to me was falling in line in the back of some kid who looked about eight years old, who was pretending to be the Pink Power Ranger. He turned to me, shouted “Yaahhh!” -- and kicked me in the crotch, forcing me to my knees in unspeakable (!) pain. I imagine it would have been worse had I been a boy.

Fifteen months in taekwondo school and I now have something in common with Sarah Michelle Gellar: we both have brown belts. For me, it wasn’t so much the satisfaction of earning something I literally got my butt kicked for, nor the therapeutic shot of endorphins after yet another day of joyless drudgery at the lab – it was the fact that I finally proved to myself that despite my apparent ADD, I am no dilettante. I can stick to something for a long time without getting bored! I am not afraid of commitment! It’s not me, it’s science! Yay!

When I was in science, I was so depressed in ways I did not think possible that I thought an hour of kicking bags (or men) four times a week would be good for me. I never realized that this would impact my lifestyle more than I expected. Three of my teachers – Lee (a fourth-degree blackbelt), Fabiano (New York State champion 2007) and Calvin (has two black belts) -- influenced me a lot, which just goes to show you that I have to get beaten up before doing things like exercising and eating healthy. When the outside feels very toxic, you will want to cleanse yourself from the inside. It opened up a lot of my interests, too – who knew that I would love training with weapons and such?

Taekwondo is very useful, especially when doing non-profit work, where I sometimes have to travel late in the evening (or generally living in a big city). The knowledge that I am trained to crack someone’s skull makes me stand up straighter and go out into the world with confidence, sprawling in the back of buses when I want to get a good night’s sleep. I am hoping that good posture and self-assurance will somehow convey to a potential mugger: “Attack me, and I will kill you.”

I think martial arts in general make people good-natured and less competitive with other people. All those stereotypes I’ve seen in kung fu movies about being “one with the universe” – Good God, they’re all true, even in a school that’s smack in the middle of Manhattan’s snooty upper crust residences. When I train, it’s just me and the dojang (training space). The rest of the world is shut out, and all life’s issues are whittled down into kicks and punches – it’s just you. As a writer, I think it’s an excellent metaphor.

During my internship with WYA, I had to teach taekwondo to kids for the CityAdventure scavenger hunt, a cultural event which brings teams all over Manhattan to discover the city. Not only did I have to do it for the first time, but I had to do it four times in a row. Needless to say, everyone thought I would screw this up. But a class that had all the potential to go wrong ended up being so much fun, for me and my, ahem, disciples. I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, that this little four-hour exercise did more good than doing experiments for hours.

This e-mail to my masters might encapsulate this better:

From: Catherine
To: Lee, Fabiano

Leeee! Fabianooooo! Ohmigod, you guys! I taught my first four taekwondo classes in a row yesterday. It was so much fun! It was for a scavenger hunt for the World Youth Alliance, and I was teaching a lot of high school kids. Some of them were a bit hyperactive, but they loved the class and were so behaved. During our team huddle, one of my students poked out my eye and took out my contact lens. We couldn't find it anymore, and I went home half-blind. Eek! I loved them and they loved it and I lost my voice and I totally understand why you guys do this!

Cate/Emily

Months ago, when I realized that my black belt meant more to me than my Ph.D., I knew I had a problem.

I think the most important thing I learned was that martial arts made me aware of one’s innate dignity. In one of my hysterical e-mails to Lee after leaving the academe, I remember writing that when I was in the lab in such a horrible work environment, the one thing that kept running through my head was, “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me when I can kick your ass.” I now know that when this thought runs through my head, it’s time to go, man.

Entering the Creative World

My internship with WYA was unexpectedly one of the more creative phases of the past few years. Suppressed creativity is like a dormant volcano; it will stew and explode when the time is right. I'm so happy that originality is a requirement for my job right now.

But to always think outside the box can be quite disconcerting. I do not understand how this:

WYA Christmas Card, front

WYA Christmas Card 2007, back

which took less than ten minutes, made the people here so happy. (Geez, I’ve had longer showers.) Doing THIS a hundred times, on the other hand:

Here, I'm holding a pair of forceps, dissecting an embryonic mouse brain to get its hippocampus. Don't ask.

took months (I’m not even sure if it’s done yet), yet didn’t do much. (I'm happy that it turned me vegetarian, though.)

FYI, this “Christmas Card Moment” has since leaked into other projects. I love the WYA logo. I walk into New York City and I can see it everywhere. I'm getting a little high on design; I bug everyone in the office here.

I am so confused. I used to avoid things that came too easily because I questioned the good that they do. But now, I’m thinking it's better to be extremely productive with something that comes naturally. At least everyone’s happy, and my sanity is in check. Plus I’m sleeping better. Whatever path I will embark on, it has to be based on actual talent and instead of relying primarily on the work of other people.

I’m also a bit terrified of this new artsy path. No one wants to be a starving artist, you guys. There are times when I am tempted to go to the subway or Central Park and juggle for a couple of hours for a few bucks. (I actually would, but it’s freezing, and my tropical butt cannot take it. Perhaps in the spring. I’ll announce the dates.) I also dread being among Depressed Artistes -- artists who can only see the world for its ugliness. But neither do I want to return to the land of smart geeks who may or may not care about other people, although I miss my pipettes.

I feel like I'm intellectually gay -- someone who's in between.

On the bright side, the satisfaction of having a written article or a T-shirt design at the end of the day is incomparable. You do it; it’s done. You might have to edit, but the original output remains. The work is irrefutable because I printed it out. And after years of having to listen to people’s blithering drivel all the time, having to memorize gigabytes of information that anyone can find in a book, making sure your competitors do not get ahead of your data, and being around obnoxious pseudo-intelligentsia with bloated egos, I’ve come to a disturbing realization:

Dude, I just really want to make stuff.