The talk

My husband, Carl, walked into Redfield Auditorium. He had told me he was coming, but it felt surprising all the same. Carl hadn't set foot in a WHOI building in years. Yet here he was, showing up in the middle of the day to support me. 

The lights dimmed, and I launched into my practiced speech: 45 minutes of scientific storytelling. I shared my memory from 2018, when a PhD student's seminar in that exact same auditorium sparked my interest in coral larvae. I explained how I formed a collaborative team to undertake research in Palau. I walked the audience through our questions, our approaches to answering them, and the curve-balls that hit us along the way. My story was told in data, but it was also deeply human - behind every discovery was a collaboration, a team, even a family. While studying coral communities, we became a community ourselves. 

When I finished speaking, my body relaxed. I exhaled deeply. With my pre-practiced script at an end, I answered free-form questions from the audience. Just a few minutes later, it was all over. 

Delivering a departmental seminar was the last required step in my application for tenure. I am in my 8th year on WHOI's scientific staff, so I am going through the evaluation of a lifetime. Months ago, I submitted a packet for review by my senior colleagues: a 5-page description of my research, an annotated CV, and a selection of my best peer-reviewed papers. My seminar showcased some of my most impactful work from the last 8 years. When the audience adjourned, it represented the end of my control. My fate is in the hands of a committee now, and it could be months before they reach a decision. 

As the auditorium emptied, my husband approached me with a hug. During our celebratory lunch, I couldn't help but dissect my performance. But the truth is that whether I get tenure or not, I am proud of my accomplishments. I led an incredible team to do incredible work. With that I am content.