Ack… Okay.

I am going back to uni.

Yes, you may now spew out your beverage in shock and disgust, having learnt that I, Mehzabeen, existing holder of three degrees, will be returning to university later this year to attain yet another qualification.

But before you choke on the few drops of liquid that remain in your throat, please let me explain my decision!

A few weeks back, I posted a message asking for some career advice from anyone working in the field of Bioinformatics. For those of you who don't know, Bioinformatics is the “application of information technology to the field of molecular biology” (thank you Wikipedia). Māshā’Allāh, I already have plenty of experience in molecular biology thanks to my PhD – but I don't have the computing skills to get a job as a Bioinformatician.

That's where the degree I applied for comes in. It's a one year Masters course designed to give students the necessary training in programming, statistics and genetics they'd need to get hired. And apparently, I am not the only PhD graduate to apply for it, which makes me feel a lot better.

Believe me, going back to uni is the last thing I wanted to do, but in this regard, it's kind of inescapable.

However, I couldn't afford the tuition fees (approx. £4K), and no way was I going to ask my father for the money. That's why accepting a place on the course was conditional on the adminstration granting me a scholarship – which they now have, alhamdulillah.

So, why Bioinformatics?

Any of you who knows me well, knows that I have a penchant for all things computery (at least, on the software side of things). In fact, I clearly remember back in my undergrad days, lying on my bed, mulling over my decision to study Biology, thinking: “If I hadn't done this, I would have gone into computing”. At that point, I believed it was an 'either/or' situation. Even up till very recently, I thought the only way I could continue with a research career in Biology, was to return to the lab as a stressed out postdoc.

Thankfully, I was dead wrong. In recent years, thanks to the establishment of various genome sequencing projects and expression profiling techniques, there has been tremendous growth of opportunity in the informatics sector. There is a great demand for scientists with the required interdisciplinary skills to analyse the mountains of data being churned out by such research projects; I discover at least two new Bioinformatic positions in my feed reader every day. My hope is to get in on some of that action, inshā’Allāh.

I also envisage many advantages from a personal point of view. Being that the research I'll be doing is mainly computer based, theoretically, I could do much of it from home, making it way more family-friendly than working as a lab-based scientist. Plus, there are global employment opportunities.

Best of all, if Bioinformatics is indeed what I think it to be, it'll mean that I get to do what I love, in a way that I'd love to do it. Extreme job satisfaction ahoy, inshā’Allāh.

At the end of the day, I know it's just a job, and I don't wish to be distracted from the main purpose in life, to worship Allāh. However, I do believe that if I am not going to be a scholar of Islam, then this is the next best way to use whatever intelligence and skill the Creator has given me, in His service:

Narrated Abu Huraira: The Prophet said, “There is no disease that Allāh has created, except that He also has created its treatment.” [Bukhari]

That's why I went into research; to discover cures for medical ills. I knew I would never be MD material, so I chose Biology instead. However, I have it on good authority that medical research is actually harder than practising medicine on patients. So maybe it wasn't such a cop out, eh?

Anyway, confession complete. Be gentle with me please!

Though I had several 'blonde' moments (for example, when asked to explain what 'p<0.05′ meant, I began to mime a bell curve, clearly illustrating my poor grasp on statistics. Agh! That one's going to haunt me forever…), at the end of the torture session, amazingly, I was still offered a position by the interviewers. Alhamdulillah! However, I won't know until next week whether I'll be accepting it or not, as it depends on the funding they have available.

I don't really want to give away what the interview was for, right now – mainly because it may cause many of you to roll your eyes, and think I'm even more crazy. Especially in light of various statements I have made on this blog in the recent past. Dang, I knew this blogging business would come back to bite me one day!

Anyway, it's been a while since I sat down to read a proper research paper, and I have to say, I quite enjoyed the experience. It was a pleasant surprise for me, as in the past I'd find the same activity quite tedious – maybe because I was already tired and stressed from conducting my own research; having to read about someone else's became too much like hard work.

If you're interested, this is the paper I ended up selecting:

Cox, B., et al (2009) Comparitive systems biology of human and mouse as a tool to guide the modeling of human placental pathology, Molecular Systems Biology, 5:279.

In simpler terms: the study aimed to assess the usefulness of the mouse as a model for human disease at the molecular level, by comparing gene expression profiles in the placental tissue of both organisms. They focused on the placenta as healthy samples of this tissue are relatively easy to obtain, and the two species share physiological features. There is also a clinical need to better understand the mechanisms behind the development of placental abnormalities that can lead to conditions such as maternal preeclampsia and/or fetal intrauterine growth restriction, that affect around 5% of all human pregnancies.

A summary of the findings can be found on the group's website. In short, the group identified several thousand orthologous genes that were co-expressed in mouse and human placenta. Using an online mouse mutant database, they further narrowed down this group to a pool of approx. 130 genes that have been shown to display a placental phenotype when mutated in mice; it is hoped that these genes may serve as potential biomarkers for placental insufficiency in humans.

It's an interesting paper to read, especially if you're into Reproductive Biology and/or Bioinformatics. I was intrigued by the number of online resources they used to verify and improve upon their own data. It gave me the impression that one could carry out significant biological research using nothing more than a laptop and a broadband connection! That's my dream career, right there… inshā’Allāh.

It's not that I don't enjoy teaching – even teaching kids, and young people. I just can't deal with the discipline issues; or should I say, lack of discipline issues. I can already predict that having to deal on a daily basis with rowdy adolescents that are intent on pushing every button and testing every boundary, will eventually reduce me to one of those babbling, stuttering, post-nervous breakdown teachers that we've all been taught by at one point in our lives (for me, it was my year 9 History teacher. There were rumours that his odd behaviour was a result of him being locked in a cupboard by his students for several hours. And this at a private school).

Last year, I volunteered to give a presentation about Biology to groups of 11-15 year olds, who attend a weekend supplementary school. Each group was supervised by a teacher whom they were all familiar with, who ensured that the class behaved and listened to the demonstrator (i.e., me). I really enjoyed the activity because all I had to do was share my passion for Science – something I don't find very difficult to do. I could concentrate all my energy into getting the message across, and not have to worry about keeping the kids in line.

That's why smaller class sizes, like the ones found in private schools, and one-to-one tutorship work so well. The educator spends the majority of time doing the job that they signed up for, by not having to play the role of an animal trainer (though I do think supplying teachers with whips may help the process). There are only a handful of teachers that have the seemingly magical ability of mastering both duties: either by intimidation (think: your average gym teacher), or camaraderie (my A-level Maths teacher got this down, usually by bringing up football; he was a Man City supporter in a class filled with Man U fans).

If state schools are forced to have such large class sizes, maybe there should be a 'prison guard' system in place, where one person is assigned the sole responsibility of ensuring that the students behave themselves, leaving the teacher to, y'know, teach. As crazy as that pitch sounds, I really think it could work.

But whatever the case, you teachers out there have forever earned my respect and admiration. Those who can't: teach. But those who can teach: you rock. May God preserve your sanity, and give you the strength to keeping going against the odds. Āmīn.

These Love Hearts were part of the goody bag that I received at my PhD graduation yesterday. I didn't expect something so corny from a university as sophisticated as Imperial College. :)

If you made it to the end of the video: that's a traditional thing among Biologists when they give presentations; they usually big up the rest of their lab via a group photo. See how many people were working on just ONE biochemical pathway? Admittedly, it's a fascinating one, with potentially huge implications; so I doubt Dr Bassler has any problem finding the funding to hire so many eager PhD students and young postdocs.

During my PhD, the neighbouring lab group that shared our floor was largely focussed on researching one gene. I regularly observed the individual team members pairing off to converse about their latest findings, generating new ideas along the way. In contrast, every member of our group was working on a separate pathway, with little crossover between us. Well, I did have another PhD student researching the same gene set as me: but she wasn't one for sharing, unfortunately.

I never really had anyone to bounce ideas off of during my project. I had plenty of people to turn to for technical assistance, but not inspiration. I have learnt that if am not sufficiently inspired, then I become very inefficient in my duties. You don't go into something as dynamic as scientific research for it to then become one big chore. I may as well return to working as a till girl at the local supermarket: the pay is comparable, and I'd have a far more healthy social life.

Watching the video reminded me of why I love Biology… but also, why I love working with people who love Biology as much as I do. I don't know if I'll ever return to working in a laboratory – but it's nice to know that some loves are more constant than others.

When faced with a problem, I used one of two 'extreme' paths in my search for a solution.

Where I suspected that I knew enough to fix the problem myself, I was very secretive, independent, and head strong. Even if someone offered me advice (though it would not have been requested), I'd politely listen to them, but in my head I was thinking:

“Yeah, yeah, I already knew that.

“No, that won't work.

“Please, just let me get on with it!”.

I think it had something to do with trying to 'prove' myself; either to my supervisors, or just as an ego rush. This behaviour lead to me wasting six months on an experiment, that never yielded any results. I kept repeating and repeating the assay, and I would report my work regularly, but I never actually thought to sit down and talk to someone about why I was failing so consistently; I was that determined to solve the problem myself.

One supervisor openly chastised me for this, and I think the embarrassment from that experience, combined with the frustration of having clearly wasted so much time, caused me to swing the other way completely. Thus, 'the Leech' was born.

Now, every time I had a problem, even a tiny one, I would seek human intervention. It didn't matter whether there were manuals written on the subject, or in-depth how-tos posted online; I still needed reassurance from someone more experienced in that field, to make sure that I didn't mess up to that extent again. I am surprised no-one ran away from me in the hall ways, screaming:

“Noooo… I have given all I have to give! You have sucked my brain dryyyy!”.

It was understandable in a way. I was a student after all, and for most of human history, knowledge has traditionally been passed from human to human. Even now, with books, libraries, and wikis, full of information, we still plan to send our children to school to learn from real teachers, not from Google; at least for the forseeable future.

Perhaps the Creator geared our brains towards speech-based learning for a reason; the Qur'an may be written down, but it has always been considered a recitation, not a book. And how often are we criticized, as Muslim students in the West, for taking sacred knowledge directly from the texts, and not from teachers? The main reason being, that you cannot appreciate context from a string of words alone. Nor can you learn manners and wisdom, except by being witness to it in person, by spending time in the best of company, for prolonged, regular periods.

The burden on the one being questioned is great. To be hassled, often at times of great personal inconvenience; to have your brains picked at, and your opinions analysed beyond your own comprehension. And then not even to get a thank you afterwards! It is tiring work being a good teacher, for sure. But who is more admired, than a great teacher?

The incentive should not be admiration, of course. Every useful word uttered, every grain of wisdom shared, every hair that turns grey, is an investment. Knowledge that benefits is an ongoing charity, that remains with the believer, even after the vessel for that knowledge has long become dust in the grave.

And as far as I am aware, the knowledge referred to above, is not just of the sacred variety; though I imagine that it has a much greater 'price tag' than that of the regular kind. But by helping others to function in this life, one is easing the path towards goodness, because as Muslims, we seek to worship Allāh with everything that we do. In addition, by saving others time in the dunya, we grant them more time to spend on the akhirah… at least, in theory.

So, cooking a nice meal, that brings a smile to the face of those who partake in it; especially family and neighbours – surely that recipe could be a source of reward for the one who shares it?

Or posting an entry about how to write a killer CV. If the reader takes your advice, and gets a job because of it, and then goes on to spend their earnings on their family, and community – well, shouldn't the author get a cut of all that reward, inshā’Allāh?

Allāh is most generous that way.

Why am I writing all this? Well, as much as I do not miss academia – that is, having to attend lectures, write reports, etc – it turns out that I have a lot of learning left to do; yes, with my deen, but also with the new directions I seem to be taking in life, such as editorship of a magazine.

A sister wrote something to me today, about professionalism. I agreed with her sentiments, that if we wish to be called professionals, then we should act like professionals, and not be expected to be molly-coddled when we are learning. I guess I have been in disconnect mode for all this time. I want the magazine to be a professional publication, but I am still working like it is a voluntary, part-time shindig, like all my other initiatives. It's time to take this to the next level – what that means exactly, I'm not sure – but her email was a big wake up call.

Does that mean The Leech is dead? Umm, no. The Leech will continue to leech all that she can from the people she believes that she can benefit from, inshā’Allāh. For that, I offer both advanced warnings, and sincere apologies.

But I pray that the investment so kindly provided (voluntarily or otherwise) will result in great returns for whomsoever has become prey to my blood-sucking tendencies; both in this life, and the next. Āmīn.

Now, back to work for me… {replaces her Leech cap, with her Editor cap}

{Wonders what a Leech cap would look like?}

Yeck…

Now my IC email account has been deactivated, and the address is just for forwarding (an alumni perk).

I had that account for nine years. NINE YEARS! Surely I deserve a gold watch or something…

After 20-odd years in the UK education system, I am finally no longer a student.

I feel old and unwanted.

Sigh…

Maybe I should apply for another Masters degree? An MBA, perhaps? {grins}

History of the Ph.D.

The origins of the doctorate dates back to the ijazat attadris wa 'l-ifttd (“license to teach and issue legal opinions”) in the medieval Madrasahs from the 9th century, though it was limited to Islamic law at the time, as in a Doctor of Laws degree.[4] The doctorate was later extended to philosophy in the European universities in the Middle Ages which generally placed all academic disciplines outside the professional fields of theology, medicine and law under the broad heading of “philosophy” (or “natural philosophy” when referring to science). The degree of Doctor of Philosophy was a doctorate, generally granted as honorary degrees to select and well-established scholars.[citation needed]

[4] Makdisi, George (April-June 1989), “Scholasticism and Humanism in Classical Islam and the Christian West”, Journal of the American Oriental Society 109 (2): 175–182 [175–77]

How cool is that?

Oh, and I have “outed” myself at the Expo, pretty much. I had a bunch of snazzy business cards printed off to give out to anyone I thought needed to be convinced that I was a serious blogger-type person. I know… it was tough!

Unfortunately, the timing was off. I didn't put “Dr” so-n-so on the business card, cos I am paranoid about using the title until I have official confirmation from the University of London that I have passed, in the form of a proper certificate. Well, the official confirmation decided to turn up two months early, just after I left the house to pick up the cards! Ah well… I am happy either way, alhamdulillah!