Blog 1: Growing as a Leader; A Reflection on My 2019 Drum Corps Season

To take care of others in the hardest parts of their lives can be overwhelming. You are the person people come to with issues ranging from minor need for a door to be opened to a raging sorrow caused by a fellow teammate. And when things go horribly wrong, you have to look past your own needs and emotions, and make sure that the team can continue moving forward. I think I was the last person to recover.

During my summer with Crossmen Drum & Bugle Corps, I acted as co-section leader with another member of the Front Ensemble, part of the larger percussion ensemble. Every day, for 85 days, I was tasked to make sure there was minimal blips in the radar, in terms of both musicianship and social behavior. I put out fires of all sizes while still having to do my non-leadership responsibilities in the highest capacities.

I learned that with such a high-functioning group that the easiest way to solve the unavoidable internal struggles was to truly just talk it out, peer to peer, member to member. I found it much more valuable to act as a guide than a manager.

This attitude, while not always easy to uphold, is what made the biggest struggles of the summer an overall massive success. There is not enough weight that can be put upon the importance of positive energy and selflessness when trying to be a leader. When you think about others, you will always do the right thing.

My recent departure from New Haven has left me reeling with newfound knowledge, possibility, and ambition. Although I could write a hundred pages about my experience, I think it is prudent to discuss three specific events that underscore the pragmatic value of Yale’s Summer Institute in Bioethics. In my last blog, I discussed the structure of the program and the substance of my personal interactions. In this blog, I will discuss our two major fieldtrips, and the final poster presentations.

Our first field trip was to the Hastings Center. This is a gorgeous and reputable facility near Westpoint on the Hudson River which hosts scholars’ research, and publishes interdisciplinary bioethical research and review papers. We had the honor of attending multiple presentations by current scholars, and discussed with them topics ranging from the anti-vaccine movement to the medical cost of an aging prison population. For me, this was personally significant insofar as it opened a window for a possible gap year endeavor. After her presentation, I spoke to a current researcher about my Rollins thesis on advanced directives for euthanasia, and she invited me to apply for a research position.

My Neuroethics class also had the privilege of touring the Cushing Center in the Yale Medical Library. This is a museum of sorts memorializing the work of pioneer neurosurgeon Harvey Cushing. There is a fascinating and humorous story behind the museum’s creation. Allegedly, Cushing stored his hundreds of samples (literal brains in jars) in a basement of a building that would become the Yale medical students’ dormitories. Curious medical students discovered the brains, but as a result (and to preserve the samples), the basement was locked. Not to be deterred so easily, the students made pilgrimages through vents to view the brains, and it became so popular that Yale finally decided to put the brains on display, along with a large glass exhibit praising the life of Cushing himself. Some of the brains have since been used in experimentation. What made this visit significant to me is that it raised two major ethical concerns in and of itself: (1) Is it right to use and display brains without the consent of the owners? (Facets of this issue: the moral significance of brains versus other body parts, the lack of consent laws when they were acquired, and postmortem harm/potential harm to living family members.) (2) Should we praise the work of this man, as well as his life story, without acknowledging his racism/ableism and the harms he brought on diminished communities? (Facets of this issue: context, institutional racism, and continued harms to victims.) I still grapple with how I would address these concerns.

Finally, and most significantly, I had the privilege of presenting a poster of my research before the Yale Medical School as well as the esteemed speakers and professors of the Bioethics Institute. My research focused on bimaternal parenthood. For background, in late 2018, researchers were able to combine (in mice) a genetically-engineered female-derived embryonic stem cell with an egg, to produce viable, fertile offspring from two mothers. However, bipaternalism is currently unachievable. In my paper, I argue for continued research in bimaternalism and bipaternalism, with the ultimate goal of human implementation. I substantiate this with a Rawlsian analysis of societal equity, justice, and the four principles of bioethics.

I can say without embellishment or self-absorption that my presentation was successful. During and afterward, I was able to establish connections that will aid in the continued development of my paper. In turn, I plan to finetune it for real publication.

Thank you for aiding me in this journey. It was transformative in more ways than I could possibly describe in two blogs. For the SHIP team, I have only the deepest gratitude and appreciation.

My experience at the Yale Bioethics Summer Institute has been nothing short of extraordinary. I’ve had the pleasure of making friends with a cohort of brilliant peers, the privilege of studying beneath world-renowned professors, and the honor of presenting research before an esteemed panel of evaluators.

Before arriving at the Yale Bioethics program, I anticipated walking into a lion’s den of cutthroat geniuses, who would see me as the naïve kid from a little Florida college. This couldn’t have been farther from the truth. The director of the institute – the celebrated bioethicist Stephen Latham, best known recently for his ethical work on postmortem brain revival experimentation – is a warm man passionate about his work and in no shortage of good humor. The woman running the program, Lori Bruce, has the longest CV I’ve ever seen but also one the kindest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met. They and their program management team go to great lengths to fulfill students’ intellectual, emotional, and professional needs. Any concerns are addressed swiftly and professionally, with attention to cultural differences and disabilities of all classifications.

The first week of this program was labeled “Foundations,” and was more of the traditional conference format. Foundations in Bioethics is a gathering that draws professionals from around the globe – with some looking for bioethical supplementation to their professions, and others who are professional bioethicists or students of bioethics looking to meet with colleagues (like a ComicCon for bioethics nerds). What I loved about Foundations was that it didn’t assume we knew about science or philosophy, and before each topic was discussed (by the leading stars of the relevant disciplines), there would be a lecture overviewing pertinent information necessary to a layman’s understanding of the bioethical principle. Although I am versed in both philosophy and science, my peers ranged from neuroscientists to philosophers to creative writing students specializing in bioethics genres; these clarificatory lectures elevated discussions insofar as there did not need to be wasted time on baseline questions.

After Foundations, most of the attendants left, leaving about sixty participants for the remaining six weeks. Our instructors urged us to become close. We, they said, were each other’s main resources – the bioethics community is a small one, and we would almost definitely encounter our peers again throughout our lives. My professors shared anecdotes about their writing papers with other bioethicists (over the internet), and then meeting them again years later and re-introducing themselves, only to realize they had once published books together.

Every morning, we have a general lecture. Then, we have lunch (one or two hours, depending on the length of the lecture). Finally, we have two two-hour classes a day, from one to five. We often have night activities, where we attend speakers, watch bioethics movies, or meet with professors to receive critiques on our work. Every night, we have about fifty pages of reading minimum, sometimes up to one hundred pages; and every week, we have to write on discussion boards about that week’s topic in each class. Classes are taught twice a week for three weeks (as we have Monday and Wednesday classes, then Tuesday and Thursday classes), for a total of six classes (twelve hours) in each discipline; then we switch to a different schedule with a different set of four classes. Fridays are pure lecture, with some events, including field trips. (I will expand in my next post 😊 )

I’ve had the privilege of taking the following courses: Bioethics and the Law, Genetics and Bioethics, Neuroethics, Disability and Bioethics, Cultural and Contextual Bias, Global Health Ethics, Aliens Among Us (Space and Tech Ethics), and Animal Ethics.

I have loved every moment. More than anything, this experience affirms that this is my community, and that this is what I’m meant to pursue professionally.