“This actually took a lot of courage, you know, to step up to you. But do you remember who I am?”
It is an hour before midnight when I hear these words passing the lips of a person who hesitantly approached me during a social gathering of the conference I am attending. I immediately turn my head to the left and look into the eyes of the person speaking to me. Yes, I clearly remember her but only from earlier this evening when I saw her sitting at a table together with an inspiring scientist from Denmark and also with a good friend of mine who had invited me to join this amazing conference in Innsbruck, Austria. Other than from that moment, however, I do not recognize her.
“No, I am afraid not,” I reply. “Could you please indicate where we have seen each other before?”
“Don’t you remember what you did to me at HPLC?” she asks.
HPLC. HPLC. Okay, I did attend the HPLC conference in Düsseldorf earlier this year, and I did meet a lot of people there. However, I really do not recognize her face, and it does not happen to me often that I forget people’s faces.
With quite an uncomfortable feeling I apologize for not recognizing her, and I say: “I do remember that I was super tired back then. In fact, I went to bed quite early on most days. Also, I drank little to no alcohol that week, so I cannot blame forgetting you on the booze.”
“HPLC in Prague!” Her voice begins to sound a bit more serious now. “Did you truly forget what you did there?”
“Oh,” I reply. “I think you are mistaking me for someone else. I did attend the HPLC conference in Düsseldorf this year, but I have never been in Prague before.”
– – –
And thus concludes the opening of one of the weirdest conversations I ever had in my life. Fun fact, this was by far the weirdest thing I witnessed that evening. It was, for example, outclassed by a unique couple who seemed to be professional party crashers. This jolly couple apparently liked the conference drinks so much that they felt the need to introduce themselves to everyone at the conference. Moreover, they did not hesitate entering the University building when we were asked by the doorman to resume our ‘party’ inside at ten o’clock.
Anyway, at this point in the conversation, I felt a huge relief. It took, unfortunately, a lot of convincing to achieve something similar in case of my conversation partner. But after achieving this, we had a great talk, and I learned a lot about the story of her professional life which was interesting and sometimes even inspirational. In short, she performed her BSc’s, MSc’s, and PhD studies in Europe, and afterwards she crossed the Atlantic Ocean to become a postdoctoral researcher in a prestigious research institute. She found the latter work truly amazing, and she achieved many great things while working abroad. After couple of years, however, she moved back to Europe, which was (partly) due to the job of her partner. Fortunately, she could find a job in industry rather quickly, hence the common phrase ‘leaving academia’ seemed to apply to her situation back then.
For quite some time, we actually discussed this ‘leaving academia’ phrase, and she explained that, in her opinion, it did not apply to her situation. Instead, she had decided to pursue opportunities ‘alongside academia’. More specifically, she chooses and shapes (as much as she can) her positions in industry in such a way that she can work together with academics to help them realize their next breakthroughs more efficiently. She furthermore tries to stay current on all developments and trends in the relevant fields while simultaneously also thinking about the innovations of tomorrow.
Needless to say, I had a good conversation that evening, although it ended rather abruptly around five minutes before midnight when she looked at her watch.
– – –
“It is almost twelve. I need to go,” she says, and she reaches out her hand to me which I politely shake for a couple of seconds.
“Thanks for the great talk. It was a pleasure meeting you,” I reply.
“Oh well, you have probably already forgotten my name, so the talk was likely not that special to you,” she answers, thereby setting the stage for an ending to our conversation which was as weird as its start.
And indeed, she was right, I had already forgotten her name. Introducing myself to more than hundred people in two days made me lazy on the one hand. On the other hand, I was that much focused on pronouncing my name correctly during all these introduction moments that I frankly did not listen to the name of the other person closely enough. I know, the latter argument may sound stupid, but please consider that I pronounce my name differently when the conversation is being held in Dutch, English, German, or French. Apparently, I pay a lot of attention to this which distracts me from listening to the names of others.
“You are completely right. I feel ashamed. But please allow me to hear your name a second time. I promise that I will never forget it,” I say, and I feel that my cheeks are getting red out of embarrassment.
“Yvonne, that is all you get from me, but you will probably forget it anyway. If you do remember it, however, I will tell you more when we see each other the next time,” she responds while making her way towards the door in order to disappear into the night at exactly one minute before midnight.
Unsure what just had happened to me, I decide to walk towards the partner of my friend to find out the last name of Yvonne. She was responsible for the conference registrations so she should be able to help me. To our surprise, however, no Yvonne had registered for the conference.
Ouch, my head starts spinning around faster and faster, and my imagination starts to run wild. Why would she lie to me? Why did she desperately want to leave before midnight? Wasn’t there a fairy tale about a girl turning into a swan at midnight, which forced her to leave the party timely to prevent others from seeing her in this appearance? Shame on me, I should have paid more attention at school. I am definitely confusing multiple children’s stories here. It was a probably a frog and not a swan…
– – –
This particular evening ended with me lying in my bed thinking about many things. Most of all, I kept thinking about what had happened to my conversation partner in Prague? Did someone do something bad to her? If so, did the person in question get what he deserved? If not, did the person maybe do something good, and could her initial reaction in our conversation be explained by a feeling of frustration by not being recognized or by being ignored? Either way, I hope that she is doing fine, and I am glad that we met. Also, I am thankful for hearing about her concept of working ‘alongside academia’ which I like much more than the commonly used ‘leaving academia’ phrase. However, my appreciation of the ‘alongside academia’ phrase probably exists by virtue of phrasings like ‘leaving academia’ and ‘staying in academia’, hence for that reason I accept their existence. I am going to limit their usage in conversations, though.
UPDATE:
I found out that she did not turn into a frog (that night). Also, I know her real name by now, but only time will tell if I can keep my promise to never forget it.
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