Combining teaching with research made me a better scientist
Science Careers
Combining teaching with research made me a better scientist
I arrived at the “future faculty” workshop hoping to glean tips on how to apply for tenure-track jobs. But when the time came to discuss my application materials, I was taken aback by the advice. “Cel,” the faculty mentor said hesitantly, “I’m going to give you some harsh advice that I think you need to hear. Try to tone down your service and teaching—it doesn’t make you look serious about research.” I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment as some of the other attendees nodded their heads in agreement. And I left feeling bewildered. I’d spent years building up my teaching and mentoring skills and devoting myself to serving as a positive role model for students. Shouldn’t that hold value in a faculty job search? Why would I be penalized for it?
During graduate school, I had become passionate about making engineering accessible to everyone. I did not want others to feel like an imposter, as I did. As an undergraduate, advisers had told me I wasn’t cut out for a career in engineering. Convinced an academic position was off the table, I planned to pursue a position in industry after graduating. I submitted applications to graduate school on a whim. I was floored when I was accepted.
When I became a teaching assistant, I started out badly. I mirrored the methods that had been used on me for all my life—relying on traditionally structured lectures and high-stress assignments—and was frustrated when students did poorly. I expected a lot from them but was not sure how to give them the resources they needed to succeed.
In my third year, I decided to pursue a teaching certification. I learned that the methods I’d been using had long been debunked as ineffective, as they exacerbated performance gaps in students from marginalized backgrounds. I remembered that I excelled in courses with interactive lectures, small group work, low-stakes assignments, and caring professors who led with empathy. Such approaches, I realized, could help other marginalized students succeed.
I modified my teaching based on what I learned. Later that year, after I served as a precollege instructor at another university, one student wrote, “I wasn’t sure if I could do engineering, but Dr. Welch made everything so simple and clear. I realized it’s not that scary after all.” This feedback filled me with immense satisfaction.
I hadn’t forgotten about my research; that was always my main focus. But I enjoy multitasking, and teaching also benefited my research. In the lab, I adjusted my mentoring style to match teaching approaches that worked well—leading with empathy and providing individualized support—and my team exploded with productivity. Seeing evidence of my ability to lead a research team convinced me that I could excel in a tenure-track faculty position.
When I asked my mentors how to ensure I’d be competitive on the academic job market, they always said the same thing: be excellent in research, teaching, and service. But in the same breath they would remark on my teaching and service work, hinting that those who pursue such activities are best suited to serving as teaching faculty members or diversity, equity, and inclusion officers.
Then, at the future faculty workshop, it happened again. The advice rattled around my head long after. At first, I responded by reducing some of my nonresearch commitments. But then a mentee would need advice and I could feel the teaching skills I had spent time cultivating coming out. I vowed to not push those activities to the side to placate nearsighted views about how researchers on the academic track should allocate their time.
As I apply to faculty positions, I hope to land in a place that values my commitment to teach, serve, and care for my students. I’m not hiding my track record—I’m embracing it. Because I’ve seen first-hand the difference professors can make when they invest time and energy in teaching and mentoring.
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