On the Subject of Unusual Names

               My mother is an author.

I feel like this explains a great many oddities in my life. She’s also a therapist; this explains the rest.

                However, it is her authorial creativity that resulted in the subject of this blog.

My name.

My name is Tawny. A perfectly lovely name, one I have always cherished. However, it is also a name that hardly anyone has ever heard of.  This is because it is the sort of name which is more normally chosen, later in life, as a stage name (as was coyly explained by a date. Subtext: it is a stripper name). Mom occasionally claims that she and dad thought it over beforehand, but I’m pretty convinced that this is what happens when you give a woman a birth certificate form when she is high off her butt on painkillers after a C-section, and there are soap operas on the hospital television.

                As a biologist, I actually hear the word Tawny more commonly than most, since it is a color. Tawny describes a golden-brown, like the color of a lion. A quick Wikipedia search of “Articles Beginning with Tawny” describes a stunning 103 species of animal with names starting with Tawny, as well as three porn stars and one article on fortified wine.

Some of the more interesting animals with which I share a name:

            The Tawny Frogmouth: an owl with expressions so amazing, it pretty much evolved so that people on the internet could put captions on it.

            The Tawny-Speckled Pug: Inexplicably, a moth!

            The Tawny Arboreal Rice Rat: Everything you could ever want to know about this animal, summed up in its incredibly unwieldy name. Thanks biologists!

                One of the most interesting parts of having an unusual (made up) name is the moment of introducing yourself to someone new.

                “Hi, I’m Tawny,” I say, a lifetime of bearing this name causing me to enunciate very clearly and slowly. Their smile freezes, extended hand pausing as they attempt to sort this new information.

                “…Toni?” They attempt valiantly. Maybe I mispronounced it. Maybe they misheard it. They say it so clearly I can even hear the ‘i’ at the end, because surely I have a girl’s name. Obviously it isn’t Tawny, that isn’t a name.

                “Tawny,” I repeat firmly, but kindly. This happens literally every time.

                “Uh… I’m sorry, again?”

                “Taw-ny.” At this point, I usually try spelling it for them.  “Like the color?” I don’t know why I still try this, no one but biologists know tawny is a color. “Or the port?”

                “…Tawny. That’s a color?” Yeah, I don’t know why I tried. At this point, we’ve spent so long trying to get my name across that they will always remember it, and we glazed over their name so quickly I’ve already forgotten it. This is my excuse for being terrible at remembering names, and I’m holding to it.  

                Another great moment is at Starbucks. The cheery barista scribbles on the cup, their words ten seconds behind their brain, when the pen halts halfway through my name. Wait. Not Tania? Not Tammy? …Did she say Connie? Or, possibly, Bonny? They scratch out whatever it was they wrote and try again. I say it again, slowly, and spell it, but they aren’t really listening, they’re just trying to figure out how to write it so that the person making the drink will say a close approximation. And this is where things get really interesting.

There is only one way to say Tawny if you see it written. It couldn’t be more unambiguous. But do you know how many different ways you can spell Tawny and have the sounds all come out right?

Tawney

Tawnie

Tawnee

Tahnee

Tawneigh

Tonnie

Tonay

            These are all things that I have seen written on cups. The person calling out the name at the end stops and looks at it, confused. They say "I have a Grande Vanilla Latte for... uh... I have a Grande Vanilla Latte!" Upon reflection, I kind of feel bad for stressing out all these baristas. I am throwing a wrench in their finely tuned assembly line coffee process.  Maybe I should start saying “Kate” or something.

            But for all the extra work having a pseudo-name causes, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m so fond of my unique name that the only time I’ve met another Tawny, I challenged her to a duel over the right to be the only Tawny.

Pretty sure she thought I was crazy.

Molecular Biology

There is something deeply soothing about the tissue culture room. The hint of ethanol and bleach tinging the air, the buzz of incubators. A hum like a tuning fork rings out as a CO2 pumps kicks on, drifting across air warmed by the electronics. The world is narrow here, working in a sterile hood. You watch your gloved hands work through a pane of glass, arm cloaked in a lab coat, no skin showing. The air filters in the hood purr, a low noise, but pervasive. It silences the sounds from the hall, the sound of industry and progress. It muffles the hectic chatter from the hospital next door, and eases you into a state of relaxed focus. Your gloved hands deftly maneuver vials and dishes, the warmth of heated glass soothing against your palm. The cells you are working with are mammalian, and thrive on warmth the way you do. Everything you touch is warmed to the temperature of blood, a comfortable and familiar temperature.

Tilting a dish, the rough texture of cells growing across the bottom can be seen against the light. These aren't bacteria, able to grow from a single cell into a colony of millions. No, these cells are a tissue, a collective unit, a repeating pattern of similar cells, working together to maintain the whole. They cannot live in isolation from one another. Each cell grows and divides by listening to signals from its neighbors. Each cell sending a chemical signal to the others saying "I am here! Keep growing."

If you put too few cells in a dish, the signal is lost. The cells can't make it on their own. They reach out, becoming long and thin as they seek out other cells. Eventually, if they can't get the signals they die, unable to grow or divide without support from others.

This tiny microcosm of life is my workplace, nurturing and caring for the cells, coaxing them into doing what we want, observing changes in their machinery smaller even than microscopic. Manipulation of the cellular world shows us how the molecular world works, atoms shifting and interacting, bonds breaking and reforming. Something as small as a different amino acid can cause diseases that wrack the entire body. Effects at the molecule expanded a trillion times to change whole lives.

This is what I do.

First Week on the Job

            I just finished my first week at Stanford, and it was quite a week. I moved into my new apartment Friday before last, and started work last Wednesday.  Now, the lab I’m working at had no idea they were getting an intern until a week before I started.  As a result, I assumed there would be lag period, where no one knew quite what to do with me, and I would awkwardly follow someone around while they show me how to do things I already know how to do.

          Oh man, was I ever wrong. My first day, I went to lab with low expectations, some paperwork, maybe a tour of the lab, go home early.  Instead, Chris, one of the post docs, says “So… you could do paperwork, or you could shadow me… but that sounds boring. Instead, you’re gonna do Southern blots. The protocol is over there, I’ll be in the other room if you can’t find anything.”  Oh…. Oh my.

          That is how the whole week went. They got me keys as soon as possible so that I could come in over the weekend to take care of cells.  The second day I was there, Marisa, another post doc, showed me how to make induced pluripotent stem cells (iPSCs). iPSCs are made by taking adult cells and forcing them to express genes that reprogram them into stem cells which are similar to embryonic stem cells. I now have my very own iPSCs, which I made. We make them by adding the DNA to the cells in a special solution, and then ZAP! electrocuting them to create tiny holes in the cell membranes that let the DNA in.  All the best science involves electrocution.

             My mentors in the lab are Chris and Marisa, the two post docs. They both zoom around the lab, constantly working on any number of experiments that are running at a time. They occasionally stop long enough to make sure I’m okay, then zip back off to continue discovering the mysteries of the universe.

             The way cell and molecular biology works is that you have brief periods of fervent activity punctuated by hours of waiting. I haven’t gathered enough projects yet. When you’re fully settled into research, it works like Russian nesting dolls, only with science. Each incubation or wait period is nested within another, until the whole day is a whirl of frenzied activity. I haven’t accumulated enough tasks for that, however. I only have two,  and as a result, today was an hour of preparation, six hours of staring at bubbles slowly being produced by an electrophoresis machine, and then another two hours of activity.  There are only so many times I can alphabetize my protocols, so I hope it picks up soon.

Welcome to the first entry of Get Your Biology On with Me, your very own Science Girl. This blog will document my experiences working in a biomedical research lab, as well as give you an easily digestible view into current topics in Stem Cell Biology!

About Me:

I’m a very nearly graduated Cellular and Molecular Biology undergraduate, and I am spending the year doing a very slightly premature post-bachelor internship at Stanford University. I come from an artistic family; my mother is a writer, my father is an artist and my brother is a prop builder. The artist gene skipped me, but I still utilize my creativity with exciting Laboratory Research (ooooooh!).  I just uprooted myself and moved six hours away to a new city to pursue my career. I’m from Hawaii originally, so a fair bit of this blog might be me flipping out about all the squirrels around here. You have been warned.

 The Program:

   The internship I am participating in is called the CIRM Bridges Program. It is funded by the California Institute of Regenerative Medicine (CIRM). Fun Science fact: Regenerative Medicine is the euphemism du jour for stem cell biology. People hear ‘stem cell’ and think “Baby killers!”, but hear ‘regenerative medicine’ and think “Yes, I do want to be like Wolverine from X-men!” This is one rare case of scientists being good at public relations. The impetus for the State of California creating CIRM was the federal ban on stem cell funding. California would have none of that, and set aside a sizable chunk of money to fund this area of research. CIRM is the single largest funding body for Stem Cell Research in the world. Hot dang, go California!

  The CIRM Bridges Program exists to train a workforce for the growing stem cell industry. It matches small state universities with larger research schools. The state schools select top candidates from their graduating seniors and send them to work at various research labs at the universities they work with. These ‘Bridges Scholars’ (me!) work full time in their host lab for a full year, are paid a livable wage, and hopefully get published while learning under the tutelage of some of the best minds in this field.

A Disclaimer:

   Stem Cell research is a touchy topic for some. Before anyone has a go at me in the comments, I DO NOT WORK WITH EMBRYONIC STEM CELLS. My research is solely on a new variety of stem cells called ‘induced pluripotent stem cells’. These are made from the tissue of consenting adults, and involve no embryonic tissue at all. They aren’t as good as embryonic stem cells, in some ways, but they are ethically simpler, and they have the benefit of being a genetic match to the patient you are treating.  However, I should say that I don’t personally have a problem with embryonic stem cell research. If you’re interested in the long story of why I am okay with this case of experimentation on embryos, please ask. The short story is that there is so much potential good to be done with stem cells.  This medicine could treat Lou Gehrig’s  Huntington’s, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, muscular dystrophy, blindness, deafness, heart attacks, cancer, diabetes, too many diseases and defects to count. This research is too powerful not to use.

This Blog:

In this blog, I'm going to document my time at Stanford, both in and out of the lab. I'm also going to do a bimonthly journal club, in which I will take a recent publication in stem cell biology and explain it in layman's terms, as well as why what they found matters. 

Thanks for reading, and I hope you're ready to Get Your Biology On!