My path through life has been filled with far more twists and turns than straightaways. I defended my thesis in physics just days before Vanderbilt went fully remote due to the COVID-19 pandemic in Spring 2020. By that point, I had interviewed for a couple of positions as a postdoctoral researcher. Yet, every interview was another indicator to me that despite being skilled in high-energy physics, my heart resided elsewhere. I needed to be connected to learning with people in a deeper way.
When the position of senior lecturer became available, many people in my life discouraged me from applying. They said I didn’t have the traditional experience expected for the role. However, I persisted, taking on the role of senior lecturer in physics in Fall 2020. Students, whether you’re brand new to campus or in the midst of your final year, take away from this particular portion of my nonlinear path how important it is to believe in yourself with your whole heart.
My first full year of teaching was on Zoom, and the students I taught during that year showed me time and again what it means to believe wholeheartedly. Prior to the start of the semester, YES listed the instructor for Introductory Physics for the Life Sciences as the dreaded “Staff.” But those who became my students took a chance on that unknown, and we began to evolve and grow together. Despite being confined to Zoom, we formed bonds that continue to withstand the test of time. We hosted guest speakers to address a variety of topics like science, nonprofit volunteerism and mindfulness. We consistently worked on setting intentions for our days in class. Even on a large online call, we created an environment where students were comfortable enough to ask deep, thoughtful questions. We shared, laughed and even cried together during a tumultuous time.
I emphasize we very much because this cohort of students was integral to shaping my future at Vanderbilt. They helped to lay the foundation for the beautifully authentic community that Introductory Physics for the Life Sciences would become because they dared to take a chance on me. Students new and old, take your time and take a chance on building community always – even with a brand new professor.
My teaching philosophy solidified over the course of the first pandemic year, and it has continued to grow deeper roots since. Learning from my family in service professions, one thing I always tried my best to remember is that students are people first. This was an example I saw set by my mom or dad when they built a powerful connection with another person as a result of seeing them for the whole, complete being they are. Treating people like people has never gone out of style. My experience as an undergraduate was marked by much of this same philosophy, as I had an advisor who took the time to listen to me, learn about my wishes and desires and empower me to chart my own course to fulfillment.
I think that most of my students could probably also recite our pillars of class: (1) Be a yes. (2) Give up what you must. (3) Come from being ready now. In truth, these are also the pillars of the type of yoga that I instruct. From day one of class, we worked on giving up preconceived notions about physics and our own abilities together. That looked like real, raw conversations about finding ways to believe in ourselves. I always strived to model what it looks like to give up what’s not serving. I have been known to start a section with “I give up…, and I commit to…” to begin again and craft a fruitful time together with students. Students came into class as their version of a “yes,” bringing open eyes, ears, mind and heart to what is possible. I have been remarkably inspired by students’ abilities to try on new things. That happens nearly every day in a class like physics. Students, keep doing that always. New is hard, and new is also magical.
My eight total years at Vanderbilt with four as a senior lecturer are something that I would never change. We, as a class community, grew Introductory Physics for the Life Sciences to almost triple in size in that short time. We brought Learning Assistants into the space. Not only have they helped students to find a sense of belonging, but they have also become members of my extended family. I would be remiss if I did not use this opportunity to express gratitude for each and every Learning Assistant who has allowed me to share the gift of teaching with them. Our classroom community certainly could not be what it is today without them.
The juxtaposition of hard and magical is something that I have consistently felt in the role of senior lecturer. There came a point not too long ago where personal work led me to acknowledge that my divinely given gifts could serve better elsewhere. It was not an easy decision to resign from my position. Even so, I knew that deciding to step away would allow me to be the truest, most creative and authentic version of myself. I wish for you, my students, and all students the very same. Join me in navigating and exploring the rawness of being human so that we can ultimately celebrate life’s infinite possibilities! You’re worth that and more. Please do not hesitate to reach out. I may see you around the neighborhood, on a city bus or on the yoga mat some time soon. When I do, I hope you’ll be the truest, most creative and authentic version of yourself, too.
