As #TeamHB6 explores our purpose, I reflect on my personal pursuit through murky waters.
Over the past few months, I’ve had a number of opportunities to interact with my amazing teammates as we reflect upon our leadership stories, values, and strategies for the future. Many of the HB6 womxn speak passionately about their current work, which spans everything from soil science to microbiology to astrophysics. Some of them have recounted how their careers blossomed from childhood interests—a fascination with the ocean, a love for wildlife, a desire to help the sick. It’s truly inspiring to witness their enthusiasm and sense of purpose.
Importantly, there are equally inspiring members who have yet to grow into their sense of purpose and ambition as womxn in STEMM. These include members who are in the early stages of their career, those contemplating career transitions, and those (re)exploring their passions. Recent team discussions about individual and shared purpose pushed me to reflect on my own rather unglamorous narrative describing how I came to be a graduate researcher in the field of biomedicine.
Since I work on diabetes cell therapy, people sometimes assume I must have a diabetic family member or another personal or noble reason motivating me to find a cure. In fact, there’s no particular motivation other than “survival mode”—and that’s both valid and more common than we might think.
For many, including some of the womxn of Homeward Bound, their current job is primarily a way to pay the bills and support their loved ones. Indeed, it is a privilege to access what you love and cultivate your passions, and even more so in the form of a viable, paying career.
Unfortunately, we're too often bombarded with the simplistic “do what you love!” refrain, which offers limited practical value in the face of real-world obstacles (and I could write a whole other post expounding my disdain for platitudes!). Appreciating this, how then do we go about pursuing our purpose? How do we find it? When is the right time? What do we risk?
Image description: The title of this comic is “Pursuing Porpoise”. A pirate penguin sporting an eyepatch and a sash belt stands atop a small ice floe outfitted with a propeller. The ice floe propels forward across the ocean. A flagpole stands on the ice floe and features two flags: a skull-and-crossbones pirate flag (with a penguin face instead of a traditional human skull) and a triangular pennant with “HB6” written on it. The pirate penguin looks through a spyglass toward a spectacled porpoise swimming ahead and leaving a trail of sparkles in its wake.
While there are endless conversations to be had regarding workplace toxicity and systemic barriers to womxn’s advancement in STEMM, I experienced the most severe toxicity within my family of origin. As I’ve previously alluded to in other blog posts, I had a turbulent childhood environment and lacked the support and safety to explore my passions.
The persistent and pervasive messaging was "you're not good enough". On top of this, my family of origin perpetuated the popular Asian adage that you are a failure unless you become a doctor, lawyer, or engineer.
At a young age, I had diverse interests which did include some physical sciences, but also leaned heavily into the arts and social sciences. However, the latter were unilaterally shut down and berated as career options without leaving any room for discussion. At the end of my secondary schooling, it was dictated that I would pursue a science program, and I had neither the freedom nor the financial means to do otherwise. The most I could push back was to take a health science track instead of the “superior” pure and applied science track, and I weathered considerable backlash for even this.
While I did make one (only one!) attempt at getting accepted into a medical program, I failed at the interview stage—unsurprising given my lack of real passion for the field. Instead, I registered in an undergraduate science program and chose to major in biochemistry, again weathering domestic backlash for this selection. (At one point, I was told by a parent, nonsensically, that any field with the word “bio” in it was “garbage”. Go figure!) While I genuinely loved studying biochemistry, I was ignorant of relevant career opportunities and felt directionless. I had spent several summers working and volunteering in a hospital, but by the end of my undergraduate degree, I definitively concluded that the medical field was not for me. After graduation and all those years of studying, my sudden inactivity quickly gave way to worsening mental health issues including severe depression, leading to a particularly dark period in my life. While I had always been in survival mode within my family dynamic, at this stage, it amped up in my career trajectory as well.
Needing to be occupied again and thinking an engineering degree would offer more practical training and job opportunities, I began taking industrial drafting classes while waiting to register for a second undergraduate program in chemical engineering. Here, I powered through my studies while gradually developing my personal independence. It was a vastly different experience from studying biochemistry—rather than enjoying the content, I was laser-focused on completing the degree as quickly as possible so I could attain the means to overhaul my environment. From there, I took the path of least resistance: first an undergraduate research stint and then a position as a graduate student in a brand new biomedical research group. Within months of beginning my graduate studies, I made the single most important and necessary decision of my life and severed ties with most of my family of origin, thus beginning the painstaking process of standing on my own two feet and healing.
Image description (above right): A person sits with their knees pulled up to their chest. A thought bubble above their head holds an image of metal chains. Beside the figure, a broken heart sits on the ground. In the background, the word “work” is repeated ad nauseum and surrounds the person in a black cloud. Commentary: I sketched this piece during one of the many times I felt overwhelmed, powerless, and stuck. I feared I would never find my way to something better, but even so, the only thing I knew to do was keep working.
My graduate research project was recommended to me as a wonderful fit for a high-achieving student with my dual training in science and engineering. And I agree—technically, it is a great fit and interesting work.
However, far from a passion project, I undertook it as a means to support myself while I poured my energy into building a healthy home and social network. The flexibility of this work has allowed me the time needed to tend to my personal wellbeing. Do I perform my work well? Yes. Am I passionate about curing diabetes? Not so much. Then, has it been a waste of time? It might feel that way on my more cynical days, but ultimately the answer is No.
The flexibility of my graduate work has also given me room to explore my values and priorities, as well as build up a sizeable repertoire of non-technical skills (see my blog post examining values here). As the first student in a new lab, I took on a major role in starting up operations, administrative organisation, and supervisory work, all translating to innovation and managerial skills. With the freedom to safely pursue my interests, I began re-integrating my artistic side and using it to better communicate my scientific work. The intersection between art and science is now of increasing interest to me. I volunteered with initiatives related to mental health and social equity, where my leadership blossomed (read my interview with GEEC here). To be certain, I gravitated toward these areas in part because of the injustices and stigmas prevalent in my own childhood; as a result, I uncovered a passion for social education and empowering equity-seeking groups. I’m still far from having a clear plan of my next career steps, but for the first time I’ve developed a sense of direction and motivation beyond survival mode. For now, I'll take that win.
Even without disclosing intimate details of my emotional and psychological experience, mine has not been an easy narrative to tell. However, I’m practising owning it both for my own benefit and for anyone who’s struggled with similar obstacles. I recognise that I've been extremely fortunate to have not only identified a toxic dynamic but to have had the opportunity and fortitude to completely remove myself from it at a young age (I was in my mid-twenties at the time). I also want to validate anyone who is not currently "doing what you love".
Whether you lack emotional support, psychological safety, finances, equitable access to opportunities and resources, mentorship, a framework in which to explore your values—our circumstances are diverse and there's no set timeline or correct way of fostering a sense of purpose. Many people discover or reinvent themselves at a senior age. For some, their purpose may not even have much relevance in the professional sphere, but moreso in personal relationships.
This month, I started having one-on-one coaching sessions as part of the HB6 program. I'm doing a deep dive into my leadership style and purpose, and I look forward to expanding on this reflection and hopefully sharing practical tips and resources with you. I already suspect I'll want to write a reflection piece about the prevalence of narcissism in leadership, which is something we all encounter in one way or another.
In the meantime, what are your own reflections on the pursuit of purpose? Do you struggle to find meaning in what you do? Or, on the contrary, are you thriving and actively fulfilling your purpose? Comment below or contact me with your insights!
