Personal Statement
They say that when a young grey wolf—eager and uncertain upon its feet—sinks its incisors into
the flesh of a North American elk for the first time, the young sapling stretches its grateful limbs skyward
to embrace the flocks of rejoicing birds which come to nest among its branches. The beavers fashion
sturdy dams of the grateful trees, where the otter families come to play. The bears abound and the
coyotes tremble and the small rodents multiply in number. Even the Yellowstone River pays its dues to
the howls of the canine predators, becoming more certain and fixed in its course.
Similarly, I believe that when a wide-eyed young explorer firmly plants the end of her knotted
walking stick—dirty red bandana tied around the top—at the point where a small woodland creek
diverges into two, an underrated high school honors biology teacher drops a beautifully-written book
entitled “The Lives of a Cell: Notes of a Biology Watcher” by Lewis Thomas into the hands of a timid
freshman student with a fire for knowledge in her soul. The seal to an acceptance letter for the College of
Science clumsily slips through the shaking hands of a girl who dared to dream, and a few short months
later, a shiny new backpack slips through those same fingers onto a beat-up old blue twin extra-long
mattress at the University of Notre Dame. Tears of joy well up in the eyes of an overly-eager young
researcher there, as the fluorescent red and blue glow of a perfectly executed 3D cell culture experiment
announces that the fight with cancer is one small step closer to being won, and a sunbathing Northern
Leopard Frog turns to assess the risk of the distinctive squish of approaching latex waders on the feet of a
field biologist. And at last, a transformed and assured Notre Dame senior sits down to apply to graduate
school.
So you see, the complexly interconnected nature of this beautifully dynamic planet generates
consequences seemingly beyond the scope of everyday reason. This intriguing series of underlying cause
and effect is what drove a young explorer in a red bandana, an overly-eager undergraduate researcher, a
transformed Notre Dame senior to decide that a PhD in the natural sciences of this world was her surest
path to fulfilment. When I began my undergraduate education at the University of Notre Dame, my eager
and uncertain heart wanted to know something about everything. From Plato to Pasteur, the Big Bang to
natural selection, I was primarily thirsty for knowledge above all else. I knew upon entering college that
a life in scientific research was my ultimate career intent, but I was uncertain as to which sector of
biology I was ready to devote my life over all the others. I therefore began a two-year period in which I
explored and experienced every type of research I could—from introductory biology lab to genetics and
genomics, microbiology to cancer research to environmental science.
The summer following my freshman year at Notre Dame, I maintained a job as a lab technician at
Alliance Analytical Laboratory of Michigan, a microbiology and chemical analysis testing laboratory for
the water, food, beverage, cosmetics, automotive and furniture industries. There, I experienced first-hand
what it means to work both in industry and in a true laboratory setting. I primarily spent my time in the
microbiology department, where I learned a significant amount about the life cycles, growth, and
prevention of common microorganisms including Escherichia coli, Salmonella senftenberg, Listeria
monocytogenes, Lactobacillus, and various yeast and mold species. I became intimately familiar with
basic lab techniques and practices—from preparing samples to making and pouring agar plates to logging
vast amounts of data to the critical importance of maintaining a precise and sanitized laboratory
environment. By the end of the summer, I had discovered that the intricacies and specific lifecycles of
microbiology were beyond fascinating to me, and certainly held potential as a path to which I could see
myself dedicating my life, while additionally acknowledging that industry was probably not the
environment in which I wished to continue as a career. With this revelation, I began to seriously
investigate the possibility of earning a PhD over a MS, and entering the field of academia.
When I returned to Notre Dame for my sophomore year, I continued to explore the various areas
of biology to which I could potentially decide to dedicate my life. After a semester spent in a genetics lab
on my first true independent research project, genetically isolating and cloning a novel retinal
degeneration allele in Drosophila melanogaster, I knew that I had finally eased myself into laboratory
environments enough: I was ready to begin in the world of research itself. I spent the next semester in
Zachary Schafer’s cellular biology lab, studying the effects of Epidermal Growth Factor Receptor
(EGFR) in potentially overcoming the barriers to cells typically associated with detachment from the
ECM. EGFR overexpression was found, through a series of assays, to increase both glucose uptake and
ATP levels in cells, in addition to decreasing both ROS levels and caspase 3/7 activity. EGFR
overexpression alone was additionally found to promote luminal filling in 3D cell culture grown in
Matrigel, and an inhibition experiment was then performed in order to begin to localize the effects of
EGFR to a specific cellular signaling pathway. Results suggested that EGFR works independently of the
PI(3)K pathway. At the end of the semester, I presented a poster titled The Role of EGFR in Overcoming
Anoikis and Promoting Metabolic Maintenance in ECM-detached Cells, and was awarded the Braco
Award for Excellence in Cell Biology Research for my findings.
The subsequent summer, I was accepted to a competitive research program at the University of
Notre Dame Environmental Research Center (UNDERC) in Northern Wisconsin and was awarded a
$3,500 stipend in addition to research funds for 10-weeks of summer research through the Bernard J.
Hank Family Endowment Fund. There, I initiated a study regarding the means through which six
different closely-related species, all of the genus Rana, might be effectively partitioning their resources in
order to successfully coexist in proximity in the North Woods. My study identified several distinct
behavioral preferences among the species, both in habitat selection and foraging behavior, and could
potentially be used not only as a basis for further study of Rana species, but as a model system for
investigating the means through which any number of different closely related species might be surviving
in proximity through behavioral differentiation. Because the ability of closely related species to live in
proximity to each other is essential to maintaining a high degree of biodiversity in an area, a thorough
understanding—through projects such as this one—of the means through which this occurs is essential to
an understanding of biodiversity and how to help maintain it in today’s world. At the end of the summer,
I both presented my findings and finished my paper, titled Behavioral Resource Partitioning among Rana
Species in Northern Wisconsin.
Additionally, my time spent on this project concluded my two-year discernment process; by the
end of the summer, I knew without a doubt that I would dedicate my career to environmental studies such
as this one. With this decision made, I committed to an undergraduate research position at the University
of Notre Dame in Elizabeth Archie’s lab for behavioral and disease ecology the next semester, which I
maintained for the remainder of my undergraduate career. The Archie Lab investigates how social
behavior and organization affects the health of social mammals through closely tracking the health of a
population of baboons living in the Amboseli Ecosystem in Kenya. Ultimately, we hope to learn more
about the close-knit relationship between the baboon microbiome and social hierarchy—and the dual
direction of unexpected influences that these might have on each other.
During the summer before my final year at Notre Dame, I was yet again accepted to the
competitive University of Notre Dame Environmental Research Center program and awarded a $3,500
stipend in addition to research funds for another 10-weeks of summer research, this time on the National
Bison Range in Western Montana. There, I investigated the potential impacts of native vs. introduced
grazing as a conduit for invasive species into the Palouse prairies of Montana, and the subsequent trophic
effects of these species on soil nitrogen content.
As I have learned throughout my time I undergraduate research, a trophic cascade is, by
definition, far-reaching and unpredictable. Its complex nature and subtle logic also make it, in my
opinion, one of the most fascinating concepts in the entire world. I could not pin-point for you the exact
moment that I decided I wanted to pursue a PhD in biology. All that I could tell you for sure it that
retrospective analysis certainly indicates a trophic cascade of sorts of my very own, leading me here, to
this point: on the brink of deciding which graduate program should propel me into my future. As with
any retrospective analysis, one could of course point out to you the signs, subtle or overlooked at first, but
painfully obvious upon the collection of further data. The need for novelty, above all else, of a young
explorer. The burning desire for knowledge of a timid freshman. And the tears of joy of an eager young
undergraduate researcher when she saw for the first time the answer to a question to which no one else in
the world knew. I enjoy doing research because there is nothing more compelling to me than the idea of
learning beyond the scope of a textbook—of collaborating with the larger scientific community to put
forth information never before known, information which might one day change the curriculum in
textbooks themselves. I love dynamic science, not stagnant science. I love asking questions, drawing
connections, understanding implications, making predictions. And these are the variables which have led
me here—with a wide variety of research experience, a passion for science, and a determination to
succeed—ready to extend my own cascade beyond myself: to push forth future students, to answer
questions this world has not yet thought to ask, and above all else to identify the underlying connection
and reason to the natural world around me.
