LGBTQ+ Brains

Sophie’s UCL thesis involves part-time experience as a Research Intern in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial, Division of Neurology. She is currently training to become a Speech and Language Therapist.

 

Tell me a bit about yourself.

I’m Chinese and grew up a village in North Yorkshire. I also happen to be adopted, if that made the first sentence any clearer! My thesis with UCL currently has me gaining experience as a research intern within the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial, focusing on data from stroke survivors with speech deficits (a condition known as aphasia). When I’m not there, I’m studying for an MSc in Speech and Language Sciences at UCL hoping to become a speech and language therapist. In my down time, I enjoy painting, going to the cinema, playing piano (and my new obsession, Neko Atsume! )

 

How did your journey into science look like?

I have to say, it was very unexpected. Whenever someone said “science” or “maths”, I’d get a knot in my stomach – I always used to joke that the Asian stereotypes don’t apply to me. Growing up, I was an artsy kid, and was always encouraged to explore that side of myself, so science was never really part of the picture. After my A-levels, I joined the University of Arts London for my undergraduate degree to study fine art at Central Saint Martins. But I quickly realised it wasn’t for me. So, in my second year, I switched to advertising  at London College of Communication, where I met my best friend and creative partner. He was the copywriter, while I was the art director, and we spent a lot of time job hunting together! Unfortunately for us job hunting was nearly impossible. So I switched to working as a learning support assistant at a primary school — and I loved it! Around that time, I arranged to meet with an old school friend who is a Speech and Language Therapist (SLT); we spoke in my garden, talked SLT things and reminisced about primary school. I warmed to the idea after that chat. Not long after, I searched for MSc programmes, and here I am! My journey into science currently consists of 4-hour neuroanatomy lectures, dense with Latin, and watching YouTube videos of people’s throats. And now, Imperial has exposed me to yet more science. I’m talking lab meetings, databases, running analyses, and writing about “cerebrovascular attacks”. By the end of the 2023 I will be a certified speech and language therapist! At the same time, I know I couldn’t have gotten here if it wasn’t for the support from my lovely personal tutors, clinical tutors, tutorial group tutors, practice educators, and my hilariously resilient friends (“saranghae <3”).

Below you can find some of the wonderful art that Sophie has been working on recently.

What piece of advice would you give to LGBTQ+ students who are thinking of starting a career in science?

I say do it. If you don’t think it’s for you, you can try something else. And something else if you don’t like that. There are stupid amounts of pressure for young people to start a career. If you’re able to, just start somewhere. Maybe that somewhere is science? The field is extremely varied and ground-breaking. In my experience as a speech and language therapy student, science is also a caring and incredibly rewarding vocation. It’s not all test tubes and Bunsen burners like at school. But it can be if you want it to be.

 

Do you think being LGBTQ+ influenced your journey in science and/or the choices you made along the way?

Honestly? I don’t knowingly think being LGBTQ+ has influenced my choices into science. But I think it’s influenced the people I’ve bonded with. It’s influenced how I interpret advertising briefs. It’s influenced how I educate children. It’s one of the factors that mould me. It does something to how I work with clients, too. But it’s also not the only thing. I’m also East Asian. I’m adopted. I’m Northern and a woman. Intersectionality influenced everything to now. I hope to influence others more than anything. I’m a member of UCL’s equality diversity and inclusion advisory group, and I was a driving force behind forming the first anti-racist working group at the primary school I worked at.  These are the choices that I made with the protected characteristics that make me.

 

What are you hoping to do next?

I want to be a speech and language therapist and I want to connect with others. It doesn’t matter if that happens through one session, or six sessions, or by talking to colleagues in the waiting-for-the-microwave queue at lunch. I’ve made some life-long connections so far and I’d like to keep going. A typical question that speech and language students get asked is “paediatrics or adults?”. Right now, I don’t know. I don’t think you find your job, the job finds you. One day it’ll jump out at me, and I’ll be telling some student that I’ve been “at this trust for 10 years now!”.  I hope my future is bright and that I can make other people’s lives brighter.  Who knows, maybe I’ll even dip my toes into research!

 

If you could go back in time and speak to your younger self, what kind of advice would you give her?

I’d say “creativity extends to science, no seriously, Sophie, it does I promise”. I thought I’d do something artistically creative with my life. School grades aside, I was praised for being artistic, musical and sporty. I knew Julliard or the London Olympics weren’t for me. So that left art. Institutionally, I was raised by art teachers, artists and creative directors. I was encouraged to talk about my feelings and be charismatic in the hope that someone buys an idea. There’s room for both those things in science.

 

This interview is one of the many initiatives run by the LGBTQ+ Allies Network in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial. If you would like to get involved with what we do or just find out more about us, follow this link.

Read Interview with Sophie Brook: “Being LGBTQ+ is an aspect that moulds me, but it’s also not the only thing.” in full

 

Danielle is a Research Associate in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial and within the UK Dementia Research Institute: Care Research And Technology Centre. She is part of Nir Grossman’s lab, focusing on computational neuroscience and brain imaging.

 

Tell me a bit about yourself

When people ask me to tell them about myself, I often wonder if it’s best to define myself by what brings me joy inside or outside of work. If I were to provide an overview of the two, I’d say that I generally go about life with a trademark enthusiasm and love, be that for people or learning. In addition to research, I enjoy painting, reading, skateboarding, and being in nature. Recently, I have been painting materials for public engagement events; since my research focuses on understanding how different brain regions work together over time, I thought, why not use painting to make neuroscience more accessible and interesting? Who knows, perhaps some people will even consider it as a career!

Below you can find some of the wonderful art that Danielle has been working on recently.

 

What did your journey into science look like?

My journey into science was rather unplanned. At 16-17, while most people were starting to think about universities and jobs, I was more interested in skipping school. Though I was interested in the topics we learned in class, I felt like an outcast, and I went to four different high schools in four years. I struggled enormously with my mental health, which had knock-on effects to my academic engagement and performance. So, I embraced an alternative lifestyle, walked barefoot everywhere, skateboarded, spraypainted, and all the rest.

But everything changed when I went to the local community college. One of my first classes was a chemistry lab, and when I walked in, Professor Frank Brown saw me barefoot and told me I needed to wear shoes in class. Being a rebellious teenager, I replied, “What if it’s against my religion?” To my surprise, Frank didn’t get upset, he just laughed and told me that I was free to stay, but that I had to teach him more about “my religion” whenever I had the time. He wasn’t dismissive, he wasn’t mean, and most importantly, he wasn’t frustrated with me as a person. Instead, he saw me as I was and thought, “Well, I’d like you to attend this class, so let’s find a common ground together.” So, I started showing up to class because he was nice to me; one of the first teachers I had who wasn’t frustrated with my quirks. Throughout his class, he always encouraged me to speak my mind and to ask questions, and with time I became very excited about science. His support extended beyond the classroom itself – seeing my motivation to conduct science, he offered to drive me to the neighbouring state school, Florida State University, so I could see what a real research lab looked like. He encouraged me to pursue a career in science, which meant the world to me and motivated me to work hard, not only in chemistry but in all of my subjects.

Not long afterward, I applied and got accepted to Florida State University! I still eschewed shoes and continued to spray paint, but I showed up to labs and engaged with coursework. Several years later, I graduated, more in love with research than ever before, and I have been following that career ever since. Recently, I passed my PhD viva, and it’s still so surreal to me that the punk kid I once was officially became a doctor!

 

What motivated you to choose science over medicine?

I have to say, I loved both fields very much, and for much of my undergraduate studies, I thought I was going to become a medic. However, after gaining a lot of medical experience in hospitals and conducting research in labs, I came to the realization that I felt most at home doing science. Finding a place where I could be my authentic self was very important to me, but much of my medical experience tried to erase parts of my identity. For instance, all my piercings always had to be out, my tattoos had to always be covered, my clothes had to always look in a certain way. And, obviously, I was never allowed barefoot! But this was never the case when I did science. I feel science is one of the most rich, diverse and open-minded fields out there and I’m so glad I chose it. Not only do I feel truly welcome in academia, but it also gives me the freedom to discover “What does it mean to be myself?” in a way that I might not have been able to if there were more restrictions on how I should define myself. I have found that in science all that matters is that you are nice, thoughtful, and dedicated; those are three things that I’m happy to work towards and play with all the rest. Now, I don’t know if it’s because I’m LGBTQ+ that I like science more, but I do think that the parts of me that align with my LGBTQ+ identity are intrinsic to why I feel at home in science.

 

Do you think being LGBTQ+ shaped the way you view the world and your career in science?

I can’t pinpoint a time when being LGBTQ+ changed my career in science for the worse or for the better, but I definitely think being queer shaped the way I perceive the world around me and the way I perceive people.

For example, my coming out shaped in some way the way I thought about myself and the world. I remember when I was in my first year of University I started dating a girl, and I felt like things were going well, but no one knew about her or that I was pansexual. I really wanted to tell Frank, as he was such an important mentor to me, but the fact that he was a Sunday School teacher from Kentucky made me think that the conversation could go either way. One day, he noticed something was off about me and I built up the courage to tell him. And I’m so glad I did, because it turns out that his sister was also queer! We talked about how coming out went for her and his normalisation of the process made me feel very supported. And even though coming out to my parents didn’t go as well as one would hope, the conversation with Frank gave me a good foundation for what coming out could be like and encouraged me to continue to be true to myself.

 

Are you and Frank still in touch?

Well… not anymore, although Frank and I kept in touch for a long time after I left the local community college. We stayed in contact all the way through University, and even when I moved to the Netherlands for a neuroscience internship, we still checked in on each other from time to time. He always encouraged me to pursue research, even though I was torn between science and medicine. However, shortly after I got accepted to study an MSc in Neuroscience at Imperial and made my decision to pursue research, I received a phone call from Frank’s sister, Alicia. That’s when I found out that his cancer had come back and that they were organising last conversations. Our final call was devastating, but I am very grateful that not only did I get to say goodbye to him, but I also got to tell him he was right about me becoming a scientist. And even though he’s gone now, and I rarely go barefoot these days, I will always remember him for his kindness and for shaping the person that I am today – an academic and member of the LGBTQ+ community. In his honour, I dedicate a large portion of my outreach activities, focusing on mentorship and supporting disadvantaged students. I will be forever grateful for Frank’s support, and hope to share his spirit of humour, inquiry, and compassion as I continue in the world of academia I’ve come to love.

 

This interview is one of the many initiatives run by the LGBTQ+ Allies Network in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial. If you would like to get involved with what we do or just find out more about us, follow this link.

 

Read Interview with Danielle Kurtin: – “Finding a place where I could be my authentic self was important to me” in full

Nan is a PhD student in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial College London

 

Tell me a little about yourself

I’m originally from Norfolk but I moved to London in late 2017 for university. I came to Imperial for my undergraduate, stayed for my master’s, and still haven’t left! Now, in my PhD, I am investigating how we can use machine learning methods to augment the in-home monitoring process and improve the provision of personalised healthcare. I’m also a part of the UK Dementia Research Institute Care Research & Technology Centre so my work focuses specifically on trying to improve the quality of life for people living with dementia, their loved ones, and their care providers. 

 

What was your journey into science like?

Growing up, I absolutely loved science subjects, particularly anything neuroscience-y but originally, I was hoping to study medicine as I was keen on joining the Royal Army Medical Corps. But then, after my A-levels, I took a year out during which I interned at the John Innes Centre for plant and microbial science, and it was here that I was given my first insight into the world of coding and computer science. Honestly, I fell completely in love with the field and (much to my parents’ relief I think), was then set on pursuing a career where I could merge computer science and medicine, specialising in the nervous system. And that’s how I ended up where I am now!

 

Do you think being LGBTQ+ influenced your journey in science and/or the choices you made along the way?

I think a few different things influenced my journey into science, including being LGBTQ+. Thinking back to my school days, I realise now the curriculum was very binary. There were the girls and there were the boys. For example, the boys were more encouraged to learn the formal, the natural and the social sciences, particularly when it came to extracurricular opportunities, whereas girls were more encouraged towards courses in the creative arts and domestic science. And that’s not to say that those courses aren’t interesting or valuable, they are incredibly interesting and valuable, but it did not feel like everyone had an equal opportunity to learn everything they might want to learn because of this very binary gender divide. Because of this, I never knew whether a subject like computer science would be something I would be any good at, much less enjoy, so when I was introduced to it, it was quite the revelation!

I think this early school experience made me question how realistic my interest in a STEM career was, especially when I was younger. The fact that I was a disabled, queer woman, I believe, only magnified this feeling. I mean, despite the increasing number of women, queer people and disabled people entering STEM, there remains a distinct lack of public recognition and awareness of the work and accomplishments of these people. When we talk about diversity, we only think about numbers and quotas that companies try to fill. We don’t think about these numbers as real people, we don’t think about their experiences or their journeys and struggles. But this is exactly what under-represented groups need most. When we do not see ourselves represented in our fields of interest, the view we take is that these fields are inaccessible to us. 

 

You mentioned that living with a disability, being a woman and being queer have all contributed to your journey into science. Do you find that each aspect has contributed equally, or that each brings its own unique set of challenges?

I think that each of these aspects has brought its own unique set of challenges, but I would also say that they have tended to contribute to my experiences as a combined group rather than individually. Again, I think it’s important to acknowledge that such aspects are not just statistics; they are the different facets that make up a person and shape the way in which we experience things throughout our lifetime, because of the barriers we might come across or because of the way other people might view us. For example, for me, I cannot really separate my experiences as a disabled person from my experiences as a queer woman as the former almost always affects the latter and vice versa.

These experiences are also unique to each person. For instance, while I might know what it’s like to live with a disability in my life, no two persons living with a disability will have the same set of experiences. For example, I do not know what it is like to be a person of colour living with a disability. I’m not saying that this makes my experiences or the challenges I have faced any less difficult, but I have not had to face the challenges a disabled person of colour has faced because I am a disabled person who has white privilege. And this is why it is so important that we have initiatives like this one, improving visibility and raising awareness of the issues experienced by under-represented groups as a whole, and specifically in STEM.

 

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

First, know yourself. Then, find your people. Be honest with yourself, about who you are and what you want to do. Then, find the people that make the space for this version of you. They will be your biggest support. They will clap the loudest when you rise and keep hold of your hand when you fall.

I would also encourage my younger self to speak up for what they believe in. Don’t be afraid to question the status quo. We’re always getting taught that there’s only one right way of doing things and often that way is quite exclusive, particularly in STEM fields. Make your own way!

 

What inspires you at the moment?

This might sound corny but I’d say being alive and life, in general, inspires me. We are all so unique and here for such a short time. I want to live as fully as I can, experience as much as I can, and accomplish as many of my dreams as I can – and if I can help someone else do that too, even better! My experiences as a queer woman living with a disability often remind me of the fragility of life, perhaps even helping me appreciate how precious life is and how it should never be taken for granted. 

 

This interview is one of the many initiatives run by the LGBTQ+ Allies Network in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial. If you would like to get involved with what we do or just find out more about us, follow this link.

 

Read Interview with Nan Fletcher-Lloyd: – “I would encourage my younger self to speak up for what they believe in” in full

 

Jake is currently a third-year PhD Candidate in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial.

 

Tell me a little about yourself.

 

I’m originally from up north, in Nottingham, but I moved to London in 2016 to pursue my medical degree. At the moment, I’m what’s known as an MB-PhD student. This is a bit of a unique arrangement, but in short, it’s a pathway that supports medical students to do a PhD midway through their medical degrees, with the aim of getting medics involved in research earlier and of retaining them to become the next generation of clinical academics. In my PhD, I am investigating a new metabolic treatment for Glioblastoma, the worst type of brain tumour, particularly focusing on how this treatment stimulates the immune system to attack the tumour, rather than allowing it to grow.

 

What was your journey in science like?

 

Growing up, I really enjoyed science subjects and I seriously considered specializing in one for my university degree (with chemistry and biology being strong candidates). Eventually, I decided to go on and do medicine, the reason being that I’m a massive people person and I love the human interaction that medicine provides. Then, in year 4 of medical school, I had the choice to study science for one year in a field of medicine that I was interested in. I chose to specialise in oncology (cancer), and spent much of my time learning about tumours and immunology, and became deeply interested in this field. During that time, I also learned about the scholarships offered by Cancer Research UK that allow medical students to pursue a PhD during their medical studies and I immediately jumped at the opportunity. Now I am in the third year of my PhD and will be returning to my medical studies sometime next year (fingers crossed that my PhD thesis is ready by then!).

 

As you are approaching the end of your PhD, do you feel things have changed since you first started?

 

Hmmm, I must say that in the beginning, I was very very lost! Also, starting the PhD during COVID made the first few months quite difficult, as I couldn’t really come into the lab at all. The scheme I’m on has a very tight deadline, so if you don’t manage to finish everything in three years, you can’t return to medical school and you have to take another whole year out, which is of course not funded. So for the first few months, I felt a lot of pressure to make progress and use my time effectively. Looking back now to that first year, I realise I should have trusted myself more and not worried so much about things that are not in my control.

I have found that the first year is all about making mistakes and learning from them, and about mastering the techniques needed for the PhD. I think, as PhD students, we tend to forget that the doctorate is also supposed to be a learning opportunity, not just a period of time where we have to produce as much research output as possible. Now, halfway through my third year, I feel so much more independent, and it’s strange to look back and think just how far I have come since my first day as a PhD student!

 

Do you think being LGBTQ+ influenced your journey in science and/or the choices you made along the way?

 

I wouldn’t say that being LGBTQ+ affected my journey much but it did influence some of the decisions I made along the way. For example, when I was looking for a PhD supervisor it was important to me that the lab I joined felt very inclusive and friendly. When I first met my current supervisors, I immediately felt supported and comfortable to be myself (and the fact that they do fascinating work really sealed the deal!). On the science side of things, I don’t feel my identity or sexuality has really affected my journey or the research that I get to do, but it did motivate me to get involved in advocacy work and to raise awareness of the issues experienced by others in the LGBTQ+ community. For instance, during medical school, myself and a few others noticed that there is nothing on the curriculum about LGBTQ+ identity. This was particularly concerning as we know there are higher rates of mental health problems in the LGBTQ+ community and that trans and gender nonconforming people often have a unique set of healthcare needs, which cannot be addressed properly if not well understood. We raised this with the medical school and after several discussions with them, they have now added LGBTQ+ health as part of the curriculum. This was a big moment for me and it was when I got interested in advocacy work within the community.

 

Why is advocacy work important to you?

 

Oh, there are many reasons for this! One of the reasons why I got involved in advocacy work is to improve the visibility of queer people and to raise awareness of the whole spectrum of LGBTQ+ people. Sometimes, when there is a lack of visibility, LGBTQ+ people might find it hard to fit in or might resort to suppressing what makes them unique to better fit in with their peers. This coping mechanism is often not healthy in the long-term and it can lead one to feel isolated. That is why I think this type of advocacy work is really important, as it creates opportunities for queer people to meet other like-minded folk and provide a safe space for them to share their identity and experiences with others.

Within the science workplace, visibility and awareness contribute to making people feel comfortable about their identity, and with being their authentic selves. Having higher-up role models and seeing them being promoted and appreciated is also fantastic for early career researchers and medics who are coming into the field or who are exploring their identity. It is hard for LGBTQ+ people to find role models because we are less visible and we have fewer opportunities to talk about our experiences, so having such models goes a long way in making us feel that we are part of a community and we don’t need to hide who we are.

 

What advice would you give your younger self?

 

With the risk of sounding a bit corny, my advice would be to believe in yourself. It seems like such a basic thing to say, but I have found that many of us still fail at it (even I still do sometimes). What I have realised with time is that there is no set path to achieve what you want, so just because your journey doesn’t look the same as another’s, it doesn’t make you any better or any worse than them. As researchers, there’s always this pressure to do things in a certain way, but that may not always be the right approach for you. So, don’t be afraid of being unconventional and of doing things differently.

Also, remember you are on a journey and it’s okay to be confused or feel lost sometimes. Growing up, you might feel like you always have to put yourself in a box with regards to your gender identity or your sexuality, and so if these things start changing you may find yourself feeling scared and confused. I have found that once you start framing your identity as a journey, it becomes a lot less daunting navigating it and more of an opportunity to discover yourself and what makes you happy.

I would also tell my younger self to stop viewing their identity as a weakness and finally start viewing it as a strength. Growing up, we may feel like we have to hide who we are, or that it’s wrong, depending on our experiences with others. However, I have found that being LGBTQ+ can bring a unique perspective to the table, one that can be harnessed to make a positive difference in the life of others. I have also found that working together with others and not being afraid to put forward your unique perspective is what makes science and medicine such a fascinating place to be in.

 

This interview is one of the many initiatives run by the LGBTQ+ Allies Network in the Department of Brain Sciences at Imperial. If you would like to get involved with what we do or just find out more about us, follow this link.

Read Interview with Jake Symington: “Don’t be afraid of being unconventional and of doing things differently” in full