Conversations with a Theoretical Astrophysicist: The (Under)Graduate
University was a shock — I was surrounded by people who were just as smart as me and who were also used to being top of the class. I could also count the number of female students in my classes on one hand. This had a lot to do with my choice of major: a Double Honors in Mathematics and Physics. You see, I attended Carleton University in Ottawa, Canada, and they didn’t have an undergraduate astrophysics program. Therefore, I thought it would be wise to choose the most difficult science (double) major available, so that when I went to graduate school to study black holes, I would have a solid foundation in both math and physics. This would undoubtedly help me with theoretical astrophysics (and it did!).
In the first year, there were six students year enrolled in math-physics, but by the second year, I was the only one left. My courses overlapped with the math students, and the physics students, but few of us overlapped with both. The assignments were grueling, and I banned together with my “math crew” and “physics crew” to solve difficult problems, and inevitably drink too much coffee. I also worked a part-time job at a retail branch of a telecommunications giant, where I sold phones and high-speed internet for a commission, in addition to renting DVDs. It was the only way to pay my bills!
Initially, being both a math and physics student sometimes meant falling through the cracks; I was not in all the math or physics classes with the other students, but a selection of both. Both physics and math professors encouraged me to join the undergraduate societies, and to take leadership roles. This was a great way for me to feel like I really belonged. I eventually became the president of the physics society, and organized a visit to the Sudbury Neutrino Observatory. My classmates and I were dressed head-to-toe in mining gear, and walked along hot, damp, mineshafts leading to an X-Files-like door, which was the entrance to a clean room. It was absolutely thrilling!
In class, I found that I wasn’t being told that I asked stupid questions anymore. Some were more insightful than others, of course, but I no longer met brick walls. I also had two very strong female role models, Dr. Pat Kalyniak, a theoretical particle physicist and the chair of the physics department, and Dr. Manuela Vincter, an experimental physicist working on the ATLAS experiment. I only realize now how important it was for me to have these strong female role models, and to see them in leadership roles.
As an honors student, I undertook a research project in my fourth year. I chose a supervisor who had a similar background to mine, Dr. David Amundsen. While discussing possible research topics, it became obvious that I wasn’t terribly interested in his specialty of fluid mechanics. He asked me instead what I wanted to research, and I declared “black holes!!”. Even though he didn’t know very much about black holes, he accepted the responsibility of supervising me and asking me probing questions, introducing me to self-guided research. In the end, he and I taught each other the fundamentals of Einstein’s Theory of General Relativity, the mathematics which describes the geometry of space-time and black holes. This independent study proved to be an invaluable introduction research, and laid the groundwork for my future studies of gravitational waves.
My time as an undergraduate student was a mixture of feeling woeful inadequate, and feeling like a science superstar. My group of friends made the whole experience much more bearable, my role models showed me what the future could have in store, if I stuck it out, and my undergraduate advisor showed me that I could teach myself anything, if I knew how to ask the right questions.
