Angela Dudley

I like being different. In fact, one of the reasons I decided to pursue a career in physics is that there are very few scientists in South Africa, and even fewer female scientists. My thinking was that fewer people in the game meant less competition and more opportunities. Each year, there are only about 23 Ph.D. graduates produced per million South African citizens (and this encompasses all academic disciplines, not just the sciences.) Here, I provide a few tips for getting your Ph.D. in a country where high-level degrees are not the norm.  

Find a dynamic mentor.
At the end of my undergraduate studies, I chose the topic of my research project based not only on my interests, but also on the potential supervisors with whom it would put me in contact. Having a helpful ally is important for any graduate student, but even more so for those in a country that has fewer resources available for Ph.D. students. I had a checklist for the mentor I wanted. He or she needed to be:

• Available and approachable
• Able to provide me with the opportunity to attend and present at conferences (even if they were only local ones)
• Good at sourcing funding, and
• Well-connected in the South African science community.

While on vacation from university, I got a short-term position at the CSIR’s National Laser Centre that enabled me to test the waters for future opportunities. This was the ideal interview process: I got to see if I enjoyed the environment and the research, and my future Ph.D. supervisor was able to assess if I was a good fit for the group.

During this time, I saw that my mentor was ambitious and dynamic. He had an impeccable track record at securing funding and many local and international contacts. I could tell that, if I wanted to distinguish myself in my field, he could teach me how to do exactly that.

Be proactive. 
Where networks don’t exist, you must create them. Our student body formed local OSA and SPIE student chapters, which opened up many opportunities for me and other students, including travel grants, funds to bring in world-renowned lecturers, the possibility of hosting our own student conference (IONS) and discounts on publications. The OSA Recent Graduates program will also provide you with volunteer opportunities, so that you can gain experience and showcase your potential to science and business leaders from around the world.

Return the favor.
Admittedly, I pursued this field in part because I knew I would be a minority. But I hope this will not always be the case. I would like to encourage young people in South Africa and other developing nations to take advantage of the opportunities in the sciences and use their influence to help others along the same path. I intend to give back to the community by becoming as effective a teacher as my mentors have been for me.

Angela Dudley (ADudley@csir.co.za) conducted her Ph.D. research at the CSIR National Laser Centre based in Pretoria, South Africa. She received her Ph.D. in June 2012 from the University of KwaZulu-Natal and subsequently commenced her current position of Postdoctoral Fellow within the Mathematical Optics group at the CSIR National Laser Centre.

Jean-luc Doumont

Whether on paper or in electronic format, the résumé or curriculum vitæ still plays a crucial role in job applications. By analyzing a draft CV kindly provided by OSA student member Matt Weed, this article offers some dos and don'ts toward effective communication.

Compared to many résumés I have seen lately, Matt's draft CV shows many positive qualities. It sets the name of the candidate very visibly (top left) with unique contact data (top right), rather than multiple addresses or phone numbers that can confuse a potential employer. It focuses on competencies and goes beyond the mere research experience to include public policy and leadership. In terms of style, it puts forward specific achievements with action verbs.

On the other hand, the CV is on the long side (more than two pages), with page breaks in the middle of sections and a third page 75 percent empty. With some tweaking of the text and/or page layout, it can either be brought back to exactly two pages (my recommendation) or perhaps be extended to three, with the third page devoted solely to publications and presentations, almost as an appendix.

More important still, the otherwise effective structure is not very visible. Despite being set in small caps bold, the headings do not stand out. Whatever white space is left on the first page ends up separating related information horizontally (such as degrees and dates) rather than separating distinct sections vertically. Similarly, the dates on the right are a little lost.

While I know it is common practice, I am always skeptical about career objectives and other so-called profile information. The objective stated here is vague, hence hardly useful. It is best moved to the application letter and written specifically toward a given company or job. On the CV, it can be replaced by some sort of tagline under the candidate's name, summing up his qualifications and, indirectly, previewing the structure of the CV.

As for style, perhaps the best advice I ever received is that good writing is read-out-loudable. Matt's CV uses conjugated verbs but without the subject (understood to be I), probably in an effort to be concise. The outcome is compact and consistent yet would not read out loud well. For example, many readers may not recognize “image” to be a verb in “image devices and processing steps”. Along the same lines, beware of industry jargon. In the sentence “Developed quantitative naval periscope image resolution metrics across functional groups”, I did not know what exactly was quantitative (the periscope, the image, the resolution, or the metrics) and I could not quite place the phrase “functional groups” (which, to me, evokes hydroxyl or alcohol groups on organic molecules).

Finally, a word of caution for those of you applying for jobs internationally. Matt's draft CV is US-centric, with phrases such as “Annually visit DC” or “Orange County schools”, a phone number without country code, and no information whatsoever on language skills. Even the full name “Matthew Davidson Weed” would confuse many people outside the United States, who are not used to middle names, especially when these sound like family names: To a Latin reader, “Davidson Weed” is a perfectly normal compound family name for the son of Mr. Davidson and Ms. Weed. For international communication, I recommend sticking to one given name and one family name (in that order), perhaps with the family name set in small caps to clarify which is which, given that not all cultures place the family name last.

In the attached PDFs, I propose a revised version of Matt's draft CV and I provide more detailed comments on both draft and revised versions.

Jean-luc Doumont (jl@principiae.be) holds a Ph.D. in applied physics from Stanford University. He now devotes his time and energy to training researchers and others in effective communication. He is a traveling lecturer for OSA.

Matthew Weed (mweed@creol.ucf.edu) is a Ph.D. Candidate in Optics studying integrated, chip-level lasers and photonic systems at the University of Central Florida. You can visit his website at www.MattDWeed.com. 

Yosuke Ueba

The expression “frog in a well” is sometimes used to describe a person who cannot see the big picture because of the narrow or sheltered environment in which they find themselves. It is the opposite of a “frog in a field,” which broadly surveys its environment and takes advantage of the many possibilities available to it.

When I started my Ph.D., I was a frog in a well. I was convinced that there was only a narrow range of options open to me after I graduated. I assumed that I would go into academia or industry because those were the only paths I knew about. All the other Ph.D.s I met were in one of those two worlds, and in Japan that seemed to be the natural progression that one followed.

Ph.D. students often feel like they are in a tough situation: There are precious few jobs available for them outside of academia and industry, and yet the number of opportunities within those areas appears to be even smaller.

Fortunately, I came to learn that doctoral scientists actually have potential in many fields.

So how did this frog climb out of its well? I was able to do it because the research focus of my laboratory is photonics, and because I have become part of a much larger community through my OSA student chapter.

Like many areas of interdisciplinary research—including electronics, medical science, chemistry, biology and environmental science—photonics opens the door to a wide range of fields, academic societies and contacts. I have benefitted very much from being a part of Osaka University’s OSA/SPIE student chapter; it has 27 members who are studying diverse topics represented by no less than five academic departments. After I joined the chapter, my horizontal network dramatically expanded—and so too did my career prospects. Taking part in chapter activities also broadened my knowledge and contacts for future collaborative research or the founding of a company.

Furthermore, organizing chapter events with students beyond my own lab and institution has been an invaluable experience. For example, I collaborated with others to develop outreach activities for local schools and an international student conference in Asia. This gave me insight into diverse people and job possibilities that I could not get through my daily work in my lab. It spurred me to think for the first time about career possibilities beyond industry and academia.

I got acquainted with a group called Kashin Juku though personal networks that I had through my photonics and student chapter connections. Kashin Juku derives from the famous school for western learning named Tekijuku school, which was established in 1838; it educated many excellent people from broad fields who would come to play an important role in Japan's Meiji Restoration. We invited leading doctors from many fields—for example, a  politician, a novelist, a financier, a consultant, a corporate manager and a journalist—to talk about how having a Ph.D. expanded their potential in their chosen careers. These fruitful discussions broadened my view of the options one has available to them after acquiring a doctoral degree.

While I once believed that Ph.D.s have few options in Japan, the field of photonics and my student activities have shown me otherwise. I haven’t yet decided exactly how I will contribute to society, but I know I want to make effective use of my education and to make my career meaningful. Nowadays, this frog is right where he belongs: in the field.

Yosuke Ueba (yosuke.ueba@gmail.com) is a graduate student in photonics at Osaka University in Japan. He is president of Osaka Univ. OSA/SPIE Student Chapter, and he established Osaka Univ. JSAP (Japan Society of Applied Physics) Student Chapter in 2012. His research interests include thermal emission, plasmonics and metamaterials. To discuss or collaborate with him, visit him on Facebook. 

Kasturi Saha

Regardless of your ultimate career goals, you should have the time of your life in graduate school and do your best to make your education count. Four years ago, when I received an offer to pursue a Ph.D. in physics at Cornell University, I was ecstatic. What I didn’t know then was that this initial excitement would soon vanish. What lay ahead were years filled with challenges and choices, both academic and personal. Here are a few ways to handle the difficult aspects of graduate school and have a good time doing it.

Find the right group. As an international student, I found that moving to a country with a different educational system and culture was a huge adjustment. I learned that choosing a good research group was crucial to making this transition easier. It is important to seek out a happy and balanced environment that is compatible with your research interests. The easiest way to figure out whether a group is right for you is to interact with the members and advisor. This will allow you to gauge the general level of satisfaction within the group, which ultimately sets the tone for your Ph.D. research.  You should also be careful when choosing your research topic. If you keep an open mind, you will discover research opportunities that you might never have considered when you first applied.

Push your limits. I have found that working on multiple projects simultaneously is a great way to keep life and work on track during my Ph.D. studies. Although it may be difficult to balance different priorities and learn new things at the same time, this approach increases your chances of success and builds confidence. Being engaged with multiple ventures allows you to continue being productive when one of them doesn’t work out. It also prevents you from feeling cynical and pessimistic.

Communicate. Have you ever wished that you had the courage to express your views? Don’t hesitate to share your thoughts and ideas, however silly they may seem to you. Brainstorming is an effective way to generate concrete research problems and ideas. Effective communication helps you to achieve exposure for your work, both amongst your peers and across the wider research community. Half-hearted communication can lead to misunderstandings and consequently wasted time and work. Often a one-on-one chat with your colleague or advisor can solve many problems.

Network and participate. Isolation can lead to a disastrous Ph.D. experience.  Share your work with others and learn about their achievements as well. Networking also fosters mutual growth for those involved and introduces you to a vast pool of resources that you can draw from. It is also important to give back to the community. This could include participating in outreach programs, organizing student seminars or other such activities. What you sacrifice in time you’ll gain in new skills, connections and accomplishments.

Have a social life. You might think that working days and nights in the lab will put you on the fast track to your degree. In reality, this is not the case. Working weekends and staying up late in the lab can lead to exhaustion, which is detrimental to both you and your work. All work and no play makes for dull grad students. Having good friends and taking part in social activities diverts your mind from the research grind and reminds you that there is life outside the lab.

Think about the big picture. My motivation for overcoming day-to-day frustrations often comes from thinking about my future and my larger dreams and goals.  I strongly suggest this kind of periodic self-evaluation. Think of grad school not as an end in itself, but as a stepping-stone to even greater success.

Kasturi Saha (ks652@cornell.edu) is a 5th year graduate student in Alexander Gaeta’s group in the School of Applied and Engineering Physics at Cornell University. She works in close collaboration with Michal Lipson’s group in the School of Electrical and Computer Engineering. She received her B.Sc. from St. Stephen’s College, Delhi, India, and her M.Sc. in Physics from the Indian Institute of Technology, Delhi.

Zuleykhan Tomova

During my childhood in Russia, my family moved quite often and I was exposed to many lifestyles and opinions. When I got to university, I knew I wanted to continue to broaden my horizons.

Deciding to study abroad
I enjoyed studying at Lomonosov Moscow State University, where I completed my specialist degree (equivalent to the master’s degree in the United States). As the oldest university in Russia, it is an excellent school with a rich history. But for the next phase of my education, I wanted to learn about the lives of students in other countries and experience a different education system. As an undergraduate student working in a research group for the first time, I was also very excited about experimental research. With these ideas in mind, I decided to apply for graduate school overseas.

Finding useful information
Applying for graduate school in another country may sound simple, but the process is actually quite complicated when you lack knowledge and resources. To learn more, I attended summer and winter schools and international conferences. These events allowed me to meet new people and get their advice about making my plans a reality, while at the same time staying abreast of research being done all over the world.

Because of the distance between Moscow and the rest of Europe, it can be difficult for Russian students to attend scientific meetings abroad. Travel is expensive and young scientists’ salaries are not very high. However, I received a number of travel awards to help with the cost. There are many opportunities for awards like these in developing countries, and summer schools and programs offer travel grants. It just takes effort and dedication to find them.

Applying for programs
I learned a great deal from the people I met at conferences, as well as from Internet research. To apply for graduate school in the United States, I had to take the TOEFL and the GRE General and Physics exams. I was also required to submit many documents, including my transcripts and diploma, which had to be translated. The second half of 2009 was one of the most stressful times in my life. At the same time that I was finishing my studies in Russia, I had to prepare for and take a whole other set of exams and compile all my official documents. Taking exams in a foreign language was an additional challenge.

Studying in the United States
Fortunately, my efforts paid off, and I am currently pursuing my Ph.D. at the University of Maryland in College Park. I have a job that I like and a decent stipend. Although I was aware that there would be differences between studying in the United States and Russia, I didn’t realize how dramatic they would be. In Russia, students have up to 10 classes during the semester, in contrast to only two to three classes in the United States. This generally means that American students have a greater depth of knowledge in certain areas, whereas Russians gain a more universal perspective on physics. 

U.S. students have the freedom to choose many of their own classes, whereas in Russia, all students of the same year in a given department must follow the same curriculum. Perhaps the most important difference is that American graduate schools combine the master’s and doctoral curricula, and so students spend five to six years in one school, whereas Russian and European programs are separate. This gives students the opportunity to move between research groups as their careers progress.

Coming to the United States for graduate school has been a great opportunity to learn about a country and people very different from my own. I believe that this cultural exploration is the greatest learning experience that I have had in graduate school.  Studying abroad will help you to discover what your values really are. The practical, day-to-day differences between graduate programs will seem minor in comparison to the broad new perspective you will gain.

Zuleykhan Tomova (ztomova@umd.edu) is a Ph.D. student at the University of Maryland, College Park, Md., U.S.A and International Coordinator of IONS Project.

Danuta Bukowska

My path to a career in optics has been an adventure. Although I have only worked in the field for four years, I have learned a lot in that time and come to love this branch of physics. Before I started my Ph.D. studies, my background in optics was fairly limited. Fortunately, my advisor didn’t view that as a problem. He was looking for students who were passionate, hard-working, curious and ready to take on challenges. As surprising as it may seem, you don’t have to be a specialist in the field when you begin your Ph.D.

In a team environment, people can do the work that best suits their tastes and strengths. That is one of the reasons why joining the Optical Biomedical Imaging Group at Nicolaus Copernicus University was such a wonderful choice for me. My colleagues are not only talented and helpful; they have also become good friends. There is always someone available to discuss difficulties in the lab or problems with theoretical work.

No one is expected to do everything. For example, I’ve never had much patience for writing long mathematical formulas or doing computer simulations, so someone else takes on that role in the lab. With this division of labor, work gets done faster and more effectively. The team shares work, knowledge, problems and our different perceptions of optics.

But getting your Ph.D in optics is about more than just working in a lab. In the past four years, I have attended eight conferences, mostly in the United States. I have written grant applications and publications and collaborated with scientists from institutions in Poland and abroad. I am also involved with the Nicolaus Copernicus University SPIE Student Chapter, which inspired me to establish an OSA Student Chapter two years ago. 

I have gotten a lot of personal satisfaction from my student chapter activities. Working with children as part of our outreach activities has been a special joy; I enjoy their curiosity and sense of wonder. The chapter has also given me the opportunity to meet fantastic people from all around the world. Because we live in an international optics community, networking can lead you to find collaborators from many other places. For example, I helped to organize the international OPTO Meeting for Young Researchers in Torun in cooperation with people from Romania, Russia and Ukraine.

After four years, I have a solid knowledge of optics. I’m experienced in working in the lab, presenting my research in front of a global audience, educating children in science, organizing international optics meetings, and writing grant applications. My experiences in the field have prepared me to face new challenges and live up to the demands and expectations of the world after graduate school. I look forward to my next big adventure!

Danuta Bukowska (danbu@fizyka.umk.pl) is a Ph.D. student at Nicolaus Copernicus University in Torun, Poland. She belongs to Optical Biomedical Imaging Group guided by Maciej Wojtkowski. Her research interests include optical coherence tomography and laser spectroscopy applied to biomedical imaging. 

by Aida Baida Gil

Are you considering leaving academic science to pursue a different career path? Making a change that is more in line with your true calling can be incredibly rewarding, but you’ll also probably experience stress, uncertainty, self-doubt and even a sense of loss. Leaving academia is a major change in your life, especially if you’ve worked for a long time as a scientist. When I made a transition from academia to my job as a career coach, I had a hard time dealing with it—even though my new position was exciting, improved my quality of life, and allowed me to make a difference in people's lives. I know now that my feelings were completely normal. This post contains some tips for navigating this important transition.

Prepare to shift into a new role. You’ve probably been a scientist for a long time, and you may have wanted to be one for well before that. Thus, academia is likely to have become an important part of your identity. Changing that may feel like a loss.

Leaving my scientific career after 11 years to become a career and life coach was a huge leap. It was difficult to change my mindset from that of a scientist to a business owner, and a large portion of my identity vanished. I needed to invent a new one. It’s important to understand that being a scientist does not define you. Rather, it is one role you’ve played in your life—an important one, but nevertheless a role.

Don’t idealize the past. After you've taken the leap, you might start idealizing your previous situation, and that may make you wonder if it was the right decision after all. In my case I idealized how much I loved working on the bench. When I thought about it honestly, though, I did not love working on weekends and certain other aspects of my scientific career. However, because coaching was completely new for me, it was easy to feel that I didn’t fit and that I was better off as a scientist. You might feel like that too, but don’t worry; it will get better with time.

Get the support you need. Because this is an important challenge for you, you will want and expect everybody's support. But your friends and family may be resistant; they also need time to let go of that old identity of yours. And of course they don’t want you to fail. Because we want their approval, we may try to convince them that we made the right choice instead of simply informing them of our decision. You can wind up second guessing yourself and getting discouraged—and that doesn’t feel good. That’s why you need support from anyone and everyone who can respect your decision and help you along the way. This will make a difference in the way you handle the change, so start creating a support circle now.

Believe in yourself. Let’s be honest: Science is a tough world full of bright, competent people. Some will think that, if you leave, it’s because you are not a good scientist. Unfortunately that’s a very common belief, and it may have a huge impact on your self-confidence. What’s important here is that you don’t agree with them! Leaving academia is a decision. It has nothing to do with being good enough! As one of my coaches once told me when I was experiencing this stage: You are smart enough to be a good scientist AND a good coach (or substitute your new position)—and, I´ll add, you are also brave enough to take action!

Remember, it’s normal to feel scared and unsure, but it will pass. I don’t have any doubts anymore, and I have never regretted my decision. I know that I'll be a scientist at heart my whole life. Don’t be afraid to find out what else your career may have in store for you!

Aida Baida Gil (www.experimentyourlife.com) is a certified career coach. She holds a Ph.D. in genetics.

Brooke Hester

The beginning of my story is probably familiar to many of you. In late 2009, I was a University of Maryland Chemical Physics graduate student working in the Optical Tweezers (OT) Laboratory at the National Institute of Standards and Technology in Gaithersburg, Md., U.S.A. A typical day would consist of realigning the laser (turn knob, read meter, repeat), spending hours collecting data (make slide, turn knob, hit key, view screen, repeat), and partaking in the required physical functions of eating and sleeping (repeat as needed). I was the only person working in the OT lab, so the days were long and lonely. Music was my only companion.

(Looking back, I realize that I didn’t have it so bad, but at the time the combination of prolonged redundancy and solitude had started to make me crazy.)

Eventually, the day came when I decided it was time to move on. While I could have used another six months to a year to complete my Ph.D. thesis project, my desire to start a new career adventure outweighed my desire to formally finish. I started to think about the possibilities and search for positions.

After I determined that teaching was my primary goal, I received some excellent advice from my advisor: He suggested that I apply for one-year university teaching positions. He knew that, without a post-doc on my CV, it would be tough to land a tenure-track position right out of grad school. However, if I could get a year or more of university-level teaching experience under my belt, I might stand a chance of securing at least a semi-permanent position later on. Learning that I was pregnant in early 2010 heightened my determination to extreme levels.

In May of 2010, I was offered and accepted a one-year teaching position at Appalachian State University’s department of physics and astronomy. After that, things began to move very quickly. I moved to Boone, N.C., and began a new job as a visiting assistant professor in August 2010, gave birth in September, wrote a Ph.D. thesis and defended it in November, and started a new research lab of my own in December.

With the help and support of my family and my new home department, I survived those months. I was able to establish the new optical tweezers lab at Appstate thanks to an equipment loan from NIST as well as a large deposit of optics equipment from the physics and astronomy department at Appstate. Currently, three undergraduates and two master’s students are constructing and carrying out experiments there.

I am now teaching full time, juggling too many projects, and barely getting the necessary items completed. Still, I love my work and life here and I hope I can give back enough, or at least match, what I have been fortunate enough to receive.

What did I learn from this transitional experience that may benefit others? A few things:

• You can and will finish your Ph.D., although it may require extreme determination (or is it stubbornness?). That same quality will allow you to teach yourself multitudes throughout your career. Applying for and securing a job can give you a clear motivator to finish. It provides a very scary and realistic due date.

• Don’t be afraid to teach for the first year out of your Ph.D. You can go from grad school to a professorship. You will learn as you go while getting the opportunity to live in a new and interesting place and strengthen your CV.

• It’s okay to graduate without completely finishing all your projects. Open-ended experiments will give you something to work on right away when you move to the next institution.

• A good support system is critical. I recommend a spouse who is also a chef and stay-at-home dad.

• Time management is key. This means you won’t get any sleep at all during the first semester of your teaching job—whether you have a newborn or not.

• Teaching and research in physics and astronomy is the best job in the world. The colleagues are all nice sane people (OK, maybe a little kooky, but in a good way) and the hours and location are somewhat flexible (you can work real late at home if you want to). In addition, at most universities, you have your summers off to pursue research, to teach for extra pay if you choose, and to take some time for you and your family.

And when you feel like your life really sucks, just remember—at least you’re not realigning a laser … or at least not for long.

Brooke Hester (hesterbc@appstate.edu) is a lecturer in the department of physics and astronomy at Appalachian State University in Boone, N.C., U.S.A.
 

By Elena Silaeva

One of the great advantages of having a Ph.D. is that it gives you the opportunity to work abroad. Compared to people in other professions, scientists seem able to work in another country fairly easily. When I was pursuing my thesis in my homeland of Russia, I often dreamed about taking a position in another country after I graduated.

This year, my dream came true. I have been in France for two months for a postdoc position in the laser-matter interaction group at the University of Saint-Etienne. I have already adapted to the local culture, regulations and climate. I have become accustomed to my everyday life and absorbed in my work.

Expectations vs. reality
Before I left Russia for France, I felt completely differently. My excitement about getting a job quickly gave way to anxiety—about everything from shifting to a new research topic, meeting and getting along with people, and communicating when I did not know the language. (Although there are people from all over the world in the lab where I work, most of them are fluent in French.)

Happily, my transition went much more smoothly than I had imagined. After I arrived in France, my panic quickly turned into euphoria: My exciting new life had begun. In the laboratory, my advisor and colleagues were all very friendly and welcoming. They showed me where everything was in the lab and clearly explained the objectives that I was expected to meet. I quickly made friends who have helped me to address all the challenges I have encountered as a foreigner. Although I have not been in my new position very long, I have already had an invaluable experience.

Science and scientists in France and Russia
Overall, I think that people from the scientific community are quite similar to one another, despite their differences in citizenship and nationalities. Thus, it has not been all that difficult for me to integrate into a new research group in another country.

At the same time, science in France is different from that in Russia. At Moscow State University, where I did my Ph.D., most of the work that was being done was fundamental in nature, and it moved at a rather slow pace. In France, however, I notice that researchers direct maximum effort into real applications—and that requires fast, dynamic work. I have also observed a big difference from the financial side. Academia gets more funding in France than in Russia. To be honest, this was also an important factor that I considered when I was choosing a position.

In France, my laboratory equipment is generally in better condition that it was in other universties where I have worked. That has opened up many more possibilities for realizing scientific ideas and achieving my goals.

The benefits of a “real job”
I have often thought of my Ph.D. studies as a stepping stone on the way to earning a degree and choosing a career. By contrast, my postdoc already feels like a “real job.” It is strange and at the same time exciting to realize that, after many years of studying, I am not a student anymore. Having some financial independence is also very satisfying.

Overall impressions
On the whole, I think that science is international. It does not matter much what country you come from or where you choose to do your work. The most important thing is that you choose your position wisely and that you have smart and supportive colleagues. I was very lucky.

Elena Silaeva (elena.silaeva@univ-st-etienne.fr) is a postdoc in the laboratory Hubert Curien at the University of Saint-Etienne, France. She is also a member of the editorial advisory committee for Optics & Photonics News.