Rainbows rise above sharks.

One of my absolute favorite memories is embedded within one of the most difficult times of my life. Junior year in high school, I was forced to transfer to another district. In this new district, I didn’t know anyone and frankly wasn’t too keen about trying. I ate lunch alone, with my headphones in my ears, and was not interested in making any part of this new situation an aspect of my life. I felt defeated by sharks and was afraid to get back in the ocean.

During this time, my drive to school tripled (roughly an hour each way (thank you, LA)). So I decided to make an adventure out of my school commute. I started waking up every morning around 4 AM, strapped my surf boards on top of the white vinyl top of my 1969 Pontiac Tempest, and would take Topanga Canyon out to the beaches in Malibu for some early morning dawn patrol. Most mornings, the surf was terrible, but I didn’t care. These moments would become, and remain, one of the happiest in my life. Driving over the canyon roads, Led Zeppelin blasting, arriving to the crisp cool sands of the moon-shadowed beaches: I had found my rainbow. These waves were my escape from whatever troubles I had at home or school. Paddling out into the desolate and dark ocean waters, I was reminded of how fragile and insignificant my life truly was in the grander scheme of the world.

I watched the sun rise over the steep Malibu cliffs, ringing its alarm as sounded by the sight of one solid fist between the sun and the mountains (equals an hour). This measure suggested it was time for me to paddle in, towel off, and continue on my journey towards first period. My morning adventure gave me the positive outlook and energy I needed to focus in school and arrive at my job everyday. In class, I had sand falling off my head and saltwater dripping out of my nose, but these ingredients mixed perfectly with my books and pencils on my desk.

Rainbows always rise above sharks.

Maybe these moments gave me the necessary outlook I needed for my graduate studies, because grad school is filled with sharks. Graduate students have to navigate among all different types of Selachimorpha within the Chondrichthyan order: hammerhead (Sphyrna sp.), great white (Carcharodon carcharias), tiger (Galeocerdo cuvier), blacktip reef (Carcharhinus melanopterus), blue (Prionace glauca), goblin (Mitsukurina owstoni), mako (Isurus oxyrinchus)… all represent different histories, environments, behavior, and degrees/ types of danger.

Copyright GNP. Low Resolution.

You’ll probably encounter several different genera of shark depending on where you are in the waters. Whether it be through conflict in personal or academic relationships, struggling to write papers, or just generally feeling overwhelmed in an ocean where fins circle, I had to eventually figure out a way to safely navigate this ocean. My current research endeavors in Baja California, Mexico, were not my initial choice for my PhD research. I came to this location after several pitfalls and rejections from other field sites, through careful networking with and mentorship from many professors and students. But in the end, it really came down to me taking risks, being confident in myself and my own journey, and getting up for dawn patrol to find that rainbow above all the sharks. All I can hope for is that there is a PhD of gold at the end of this rainbow ;).

Sharks will bite you whether you’re looking or not; but rainbows only exist to your eyes if you are looking in the right direction.