Birthday Wishes & New Year Resolution

Today, I am turning 48, and entering the second quarter of the century.

I haven't posted anything since March, 2023, a high point of my life. Life became bumpy later that year due to Igel's health, and a long recovery in 2024. Now things have become stabilized. Challenges still ahead, but the toughest times are behind us, I think.

The experience has humbled me. The moon waxes only to wane, and water brims only to overflow. My early part of 2023 was simply too good; adversity was destined to happen afterwards. And it did.

But we overcame it with strength, resilience, and a new perspective of life. It was a timely reminder of what truly matters. This shift of perspective was reinforced by two friends' passing recently, both at a young age. Death reminds us of the deeper meaning of life.

I just finished reading Azra Raza's The First Cell, a powerful and touching account from an oncologist who shares her treatment of terminal cancer patients. I was deeply moved by her immense empathy, showing the dignity of her patients by narrating their suffering and pains. For a person who encounters death on the daily basis, despair, rather than false hope and contrived optimism, is the motor to make changes.

We are not at the level of despair. Far from it. But that is a perspective we need, so we can embrace life and live it to the fullest, appreciating its many small elements but without losing sight of what is happening in the larger, troubled world. 

At this point, my top priority is to take care of the family and support Igel's tenure effort, especially finishing her book. This means more share of childcare work, which I am happy to do. It is work, but such joyful work growing up together with Lulu. She is just delightful. Hopefully, by the end of this year, when Igel have finished her book manuscript, the tenure pressure will drop substantially, for her and for the whole family. Looking forward to that!

Now my birthday wishes & New Year's resolutions   

(1) Take good care of Lulu, Year 2 is often called "Terrible 2," but she has not become "terrible" yet. I hope that as she is growing, she won't get sick as often as last winter. She also needs to have her own room, drop her binky permanently, take bath/shower at a different place, start potty training, etc. The list goes on, but I am happy to proceed with these routine stuff in which I am sure Lulu will continue to give us surprises and wonderful enlightenment.    

(2) Support Igel's effort of finishing her magnum opus manuscript, while also keeping an eye on her health condition. Being a caregiver is no easy a task, but it is also a privilege. Being a historian of medicine helps, as it gives me knowledge and insights about the medical system we have today, particularly its limits. This personal experience may also in turn affect my intellectual pursuit (think about the history of pain, for example). We will see.

(3) On my own work, 2024 is a year I still spent a substantial amount of time wrapping up my first book, especially getting the Chinese translation published. It is time to move on since I don't want to sleep on the past work. 2025 should be the year I make some progress on my second book project. The project has been slowed down due to family matters, but I should make progress nonetheless—any progress, no matter how small it is, is good. "Incremental" and "persistent" are my mantras now. 

Here are some specific goals for my second book project this year:

a) Conference on Asian medicine this April. This is my first time organizing a conference, taking the driver's seat. It's been a stimulating and enjoyable experience thus far working with Genie, despite lots of work involved. Besides knowing the field better, especially the works from junior scholars, I will probably get an article published out of this conference, either in a special issue and an edited volume. My plan is to finish the manuscript of that article, likely on the history of smell in Chinese medicine, by the end of this year. That would be my third publication related to my second book project, and I think that should be enough before delving into the writing of the book.

b) More fieldwork research in Asia. The only time I can do this is this summer. I need to coordinate with Igel about childcare. I need to think hard on what are essential materials I need to acquire from Asia to advance my second project. I've already had access to Michigan database, which is a bless. Maybe I don't need to travel to Asia this summer as all, though I still need to think of ways to spend the money given to me by UB.

c) Fellowship application. NEH is the one I plan to apply this spring. It is a competitive fellowship, but I should apply anyway. I have already postponed the application for a year, so shouldn't postpone it again. I have a busy spring schedule, but should give this a top priority. It is also an opportunity to rethink the themes and organization of my book, after a long while.

Overall, my goal is to get my second book published in about 5 years, which is not a particularly ambitious plan. Besides taking care of the family, more administrative work will probably pile up in the following years—should I take the role of the Director of the Asian Studies Program? We will see.

(4) Logistics. It never ends. But at least I should set up the infrastructure in the new house, such as the offices of Igel's and my offices, as well as Lulu's own room. A house without bookshelves is not a house worth living in. For the old house, we will see what to do with it. But at least I should maintain it as is and fix several key things (the heater upstairs, the ceiling downstairs, etc.). More of a summer project.

(5) Self-care. This is almost entirely ignored in 2024. I am not young anymore, and having a healthy body is not just good for myself, but a responsible thing for the family. I need more and regular exercise, such as swimming, biking, & hiking, and guarantee enough sleep. I think the schedule of going to bed early, together with Lulu, and getting up early, at 5am, has been working well for me. I should keep that, so I can have at least 7 hours of sleep every day. I should also treat my cheilitis more seriously if it doesn't go away. Relatedly, I should change the primary doctor of both me and Igel.

(6) Any time for fun? I should. Continue reading novels on Saturday mornings in a comfy café and watching movies from time to time during weekends. More trips to Toronto would be fun. And perhaps a major trip to an exotic place in the coming holiday season at the end of the year? More social activities as well with close friends (Kristin, Susan, Erik, Margo, etc.) as I enjoy them very much, even if I am a quiet boy.

(7) Last but not the least, be more efficient and focused. "Efficient" means getting the 80% unimportant things done in 20% of my time; "focused" means getting the 20% important things done in 80% of my time. I am too obsessed, borderline OCD, on details, such as emails, which is unhealthy. I should find a way to handle emails more efficiently, starting from not proofreading my scripts, at least the 95% unimportant ones. It is a psychological thing that I need to overcome. I will be very happy if I can make progress on that.

That is all. I don't think I set up high goals for this year. Take it easy but move forward steadily and incrementally. The difficulties are temporary and the future is bright. I am, in the end, an incurable optimist.

A Good Year

Only shy of three months have passed in 2023. Why do I call it a good year already?

Because, simply, quite a few good news poured in during those wintry months, making me really happy. On Jan. 20, I got the IAS Fellowship at Princeton, allowing me to spend a semester there this fall to further pursue my second project on aromatics. Even better, Igel and Lulu will be able to join me too, taking our first family excursion outside Buffalo. I guess Princeton is not a bad place to start Lulu's early education!

On Mar. 3, Igel and I finally received our green cards. It has been a long and arduous journey, taking us more than 2 years for the application per se, and many more years of mental stress. With perseverance and the support of people near and afar, finally I can put this frustrating matter behind. This means that Igel and I can do international travels more easily, a prospect we are very excited about.

Finally, something unexpected happened recently. I went to Boston to attend the AAS last week. It was my first trip since Lulu was born, and I had a good, though a bit overwhelming experience there. After I came back, I tested Covid positive, unfortunately, and had to sustain my childcare duty—poor Igel—and isolate myself. While doing that, I opened my email on Monday (Mar. 20), and found one titled "Congratulations!" I immediately thought this is about the other fellowship I applied last year. But it is not. It is from the president of the AAHM, informing me that my book has been awarded 2023 William Welch Medal. This is totally unexpected and a too-good-to-be-true kind of surprise. My book has been published for almost two years, and I thought that I have run out of luck for awards. Plus, the Welch Medal is often given to scholars working on modern, Western history of medicine. My book is about medicine in medieval China, so I thought my chance is quite slim. But here you go, the award committee has decided to give it to me. I am still deeply in disbelief.

Maybe I shouldn't make a big deal out of it. It is after all an award in a specialized field, namely, the history of medicine. But it does means a lot to me. Above all, it affirms the value of my book and boost my confidence as a good scholar. As Igel told me astutely, not every good book can win an award, but a book that wins an award can never be a bad book. I thought that my book is OK, a typical first book with shortcomings. Due to the time constraint, I wasn't able to make it to the degree of perfection as I wanted especially for the Introduction. But the committee must have found something valuable in my book—none of the five members are a China specialist—maybe it is its accessibility, or its message to historians of medicine, or its focus on non-Western history. I have no idea.

I have to say that, quoting Daniel Kwan (see below), my imposter syndrome is all-time high now. Although this is an award in a specialized field, many prominent scholars, including some of the pioneering figures in the field, have won the award. That long list includes my two mentors Hisa and Katy, and several China specialists (Ruth, Hsiang-lin, and Nicole). I believe that I am the first scholar from mainland China who has won this award. Maybe the pool of contenders this year is weak, or they wanted to give it to a pre-modernist, or to a scholar of color. But I should stop thinking this way, and really start pondering what this truly means to me.

It means a few things. First, it recognizes my book as a valuable one in the history of medicine. Every book targets particular audience, and mine aims for historians of medicine, including many working on Western medicine, rather than Chinese historians. People will learn more things about medicine from my book than about China. I always have qualms about this: Did I distort Chinese history to fit the modern paradigms? Did I write my book for Western audience who knows little about China? But I think I did a nuanced enough analysis that has made the Chinese history complex enough without losing the big picture of delivering a central message to my audience, which is, the context, rather than the essence, matters for any medicinal substance, Chinese or Western. That message must have somewhat resonated with the award committee.

Second, I should not self-marginalize my field of medieval Chinese history. True, it is a small field with scant sources and less obvious contemporary relevance. But it is a valuable field, still a lot to do, and if I am able to find, there are many meaningful connections to the modern world. I should continue doing what I am good at and push the field forward.

Third, it is reassuring that the studies of non-Western societies have gained increasing attention over the past years. In this respect, the recognition of my book is also the recognition of this fast-developing direction of the field. I should embrace this opportunity and make an effort to contribute further in that direction.

Perhaps by serendipity, a couple of weeks ago EEAO won the Oscar Award. Both Igel and I were very pleased to see a film produced by an Asian team and with many Asian actors won the award. It was a revelatory moment for us, making us think what kind of life and opportunities Lulu will have when she grows up. In some sense, my feeling of winning the Welch Medal is similar to that of Danial Kwan, the co-director of the movie: an abrupt, unexpected success, and a sense of imposter syndrome. As I joked to Igel, this might be the highest point of my career. On the other hand, I should also remain sober and calm. After all, it is just an award in a specialized field. In the broader world, it doesn't matter much. I am glad that my book is recognized, which perhaps can enhance my reputation as a good historian of medicine, but by the end of the day, it is the inner force that has pushed me forward over the past decades. It does give me some reassurance that after the switch of my career two decades ago, I can not only make a living by doing history but also become good at it. How rewarding is that feeling!

I was invited to go to the AAHM Annual Meeting held this May in none other than Ann Arbor to attend the Award Ceremony. As fate dictates, I contemplated and started the change of my career from that lovely place. Now, 18 years after, I am back, with a sense of fulfillment and closure, but never complacency. If such things can be called an achievement, it is only because I am standing on the shoulders of giants. And last but not least, Igel's support and encouragement in the past six years have been pivotal. That story deserves a full separate post.

I tend to think Lulu has brought me lots of luck since she was born. By any standard, this has been a very good year for me. I don't expect to hear more good news in the rest of the year, as this is already way out of my expectation. Right now, what I need to remind myself constantly is to remain humble, stand on the ground, and always be true to myself and kind to others. It is a moment that gives me confidence and hope that by good effort I can do my work well and hopefully make the world a bit better.

Birthday Thoughts

Today, I am turning 46.

It is also my first birthday being a dad. That is incredible in retrospect.

Six years ago, on my 40th birthday, I reflected on my career and personal life. I set up two goals: to get tenure in six years and to find a partner in the following decade.

Gladly, I achieved the first goal last year. Now looking back, I found myself being conservative for the second one. Shortly after I wrote those words, I met Igel in Toronto (Mar. 2017), got engaged two years later (Mar. 2019), got married a year after (Aug. 2020), and now, amazingly, just became a dad (Dec. 2022). In less than six years, I have finished a home run! 

Still, given my extraordinarily long student life and the postponement of personal matters as a result, I am an old father. Hopefully, with the wisdom accumulated in the past decades, I can do the job fine.

As Lumiere enters our world, life will change dramatically. Watching her grow is amazing, and we also hope that in the process she will help us grow. At least for me, I want to remain true to myself, but also getting transformed by the expanded family, to be less self-absorbed, to better balance life and work, to find new meanings, and perhaps hope, in this troubled world.

On parenting, a colleague assured us: "There is no better place to be."

Usually at my age, mid-age crisis kicks in. There are certainly many challenges ahead: raising Lumiere, further developing my career, taking care of parents, dealing with endless logistics, among others. There is no set path for everyone. But as long as I remain open and honest, and willing to seek help when necessary, I think I should be OK.

All joy and no fun! That may be the paradox of parenting. It is a unique experience of co-growing with another person. It is also quite different from career goals: I can set up a concrete goal to try to accomplish it in certain years. But parenting is different. There is no set time limit; it is a life-long learning experience. To recognize that, I would say, is a powerful way of shifting my perspective on life.

With that in mind, I am not setting up any concrete goals here. I want Lumiere to be healthy and happy on her long life journey. It is my pleasure to take this journey with her, to explore the world together and to find the inner truths of myself.

New Year Resolutions (2023)

Another year has passed. Now we are entering 2023!

2022 was a transitional year for me. In Sept., I became an Associate Professor officially. Since tenure promotion was such a long process, the tail of it was not as exciting as the moment in 2021, when I got my first book published. It was an important confirmation nonetheless, which means that I can relax a bit and think about my future career goals and other dimensions of my life.

Life was as busy as usual. Without the tenure pressure, everything seems to slow down, and I have to admit that I didn't get as much done as what I listed in 2022 resolutions. It is also about the change of mode for my research. Instead of putting everything aside and just focusing on work, it is better, and more sustainable, to have a routine work schedule, properly balanced with other things in life. Still learning that...

There was also a major change in my life that dwarfed everything else in 2022: I became a dad. As writing of it now, I still couldn't believe it. It started in Hawaii in March, and Igel and I believed that we were blessed by a goddess residing in the Mount Ka'ala, in which we hiked. Afterwards, we paid numerous visits to the OB office, MFM, and blood clinics to assure the proper progression of Igel's pregnancy, which consumed much of our time. In retrospect, those visits have become nice memories of the bonding between me, Igel, and the baby. The delivery itself, which just happened less than two weeks ago (Dec. 20), was quicker and smoother than we expected, as we were supported a group of nice, genuine, and capable nurses and doctors. In the blink of an eye, the baby was out, which has changed my life permanently!

Two days after our baby was born, a historical blizzard hit Buffalo, taking the lives of close to 40 people. We gave our baby the name Lumiere, hoping that she can bring some light and warmth to this tough winter, and soften the firm realities of this world. 2022 was not a good year for the world. Russian's invasion of Ukraine in March, and the ensuing war have claimed numerous lives and cast an ominous shadow on the stability and peace of the world. Chinese government's draconian policy on Covid control for most of the year, followed by an astonishing quick abolishment of that policy in the last month of the year, has led to disastrous consequences, making this winter particularly harsh, if not cruel, for many. After more than three years of the pandemic, it doesn't seem to cease soon in China.

Locally, Buffalo also suffered two traumatic hits in 2022. The TOPS killing of 13 Blacks in May and the historical snowstorm that ravaged the city around Christmas. Authoritarianism, racism, climate change—2022 renders a sobering reminder that this world is far from being fine. As a historian, the relentless realities of this troubling world only confirmed that history is not always in progress.

In this bleak moment of Buffalo, and the world, we welcomed Lumiere, who gives us a flickering light of hope. We had a very good experience during and after the delivery—many colleagues and friends sent good wishes, gifts, and prepared food for us. It is precisely such human kindness, bonding, and solidarity that offer us hope during the longest nights of the winter.   

My resolutions for the new year will be a moving target as our little boss will decide many things for us. So here is a tentative one:

1) On work: Get some development for my second book project, including a) send the review article out soon; b) finish the camphor paper and the edited volume. Meanwhile, get the Chinese translation of my first book done. 

2) On fellowships: I hope I can get one this year (CCKF or IAS at Princeton). If not, give another try this fall.

3) My post-sabbatical leave is coming (2023-24). Make the full use of it, coordinated with childcare. I hope I can spend some time in China. We will see how it goes.

4) Spend time with Lumiere. This will consume lots of my time, happily. It is also a way to support Igel, so she can get more of her work done.

5) Have a new routine, coordinated with Lumiere's schedule. Don't stretch yourself too much. High efficiency during confined hours is the key.

About twenty years ago, when I was reading Ray Huang's autobiography, I saw a picture of him working in his study, piled with books, with his little child sleeping nearby. Now I am doing the same, at a relatively old age, just like Huang! To juggle between work and childcare, that is not an easy task, but a good challenge to take. Good luck!

APT Decision

February 17, an eventful day.

The Friday prior, I received an email from the Dean's Office, telling me that my tenure dossier was being sent to the APT Committee (Appointment, Promotion, and Tenure). This meant that my tenure case would be evaluated again at the college level, by a committee of 11 members across departments in CAS. This is something that I anticipated—my Chair told me that sometime in February the second round of assessment will take place. A mixture of nervousness and excitement. I was allowed to read the Chair's letter and the non-confidential part of the dossier, which are all reassuring. I didn't know when the meeting and voting will happen—sometime in the following two weeks, I thought.

Then lots of things happened in the past week, which distracted my attention. Thursday was a particular hectic day, as I was busily working on a matter of house mortgage with Igel. I was also going to give a Zoom talk next day, so didn't think of the tenure vote at all. 

Around 6:30pm, when we had a break after an intense day of phone calls and calculation of numbers, I suddenly saw a message on my phone, "Good news! Do you have time for a quick call?" I was pretty sure that I saw this message early in the day, but ignored it because I thought it came from an aggressive broker—they often start the message with "Good news!" Only now did I realize that it actually came from my Chair.

I immediately realized what this was about. The meeting must have taken place early today, a bit earlier than I thought. My Chair called me in a minute, and told me that my case received an unanimous yes. "It is an easy case and the meeting was rather short," he related. He said something else, like praises for my work, some clarification questions from the committee, etc. But I was too overwhelmed to hear them clearly. Igel was standing nearby, eyes full of tears. My response to the Chair was a bit too effusive and dull—many thanks, appreciation, feeling speechless, and the like. Honestly, I feel lucky to have an extremely supportive Chair. From the time he became the Chair in 2019, his support for me and Igel has been tremendous, not just on my tenure case, but also on the complicated issue of my green card application that has consumed me a good amount of time in the past year. Maybe the result would be the same should I have a different Chair, but a good Chair makes the journey much more pleasant.

It was a strange moment. Although this is a big deal—the APT decision is crucial since the rest is basically a bureaucratic routine, and the result is not a surprise, I couldn't feel the same level of euphoria compared to the official publication of my book last summer or the notification of the departmental vote on my case last October. The main reason, I guess, is that at least in my school, the APT decision usually follows the departmental vote, so I didn't anticipate a surprise. Plus, I don't know the majority of people on the APT committee, unlike the situation for the departmental vote, so it is an emotionally more detached process. The timing is interesting, as if this is a godly message: just as I was doing something most mundane and uninteresting—dealing with house mortgage, I received the positive affirmation of something I have pursued for almost two decades, something I call dream. This is rather ironic, isn't it?

Perhaps this coincident is sending a signal to me: it is about time to change the mode of living, from a laser-focused effort on securing my tenure and a living still like a graduate student to a more comprehensive and multifaceted life of a true adult shouldering more responsibilities beyond my own interest. Doing something I like is the most rewarding thing in my life, and I often find myself lucky to have the luxury of time and resources to pursue my goal and postpone other more mundane and routine things in life. It is about time to change that—I can delay those necessities, but cannot shun them forever. The temptation and momentum of remaining a perpetual spoiled child is high, but that is not realistic or even desirable. I must have a broader perspective of life and adjust my way of living accordingly.

It is a strange moment also in the sense of what is happening in the world. The Winter Olympics just ended in Beijing, yet what attracted more people's attention, at least in my circle of friends, is the chained woman from the Feng County. The absurdity of the tragedy and the anger it evoked among people is heart-wrenching. Compared to that, my little good news appears quite trivial, even meaningless. There seems to be a huge gap between my world and that world. Again, as an intellectual and a conscientious human being, what can I do to go beyond the self-fulfillment in my small, comfortable niche to contribute to the public good, either in this country or in China? Something to think about after the tenure.

New Year Resolutions (2022)

As usual, it is time to reflect on the year of 2021 and plan for the year of 2022.

Worldwide, the pandemic is still plaguing the globe, sickening and killing many. Although we had some moments of seeing the end of this seemingly never-ending odyssey—especially during the summer, the rise of omicron cases recently has made any assured optimism premature. The pandemic has been with us for two years, and it may not end anytime soon, unfortunately. I said at the end of my last year's resolutions that I remain cautiously optimistic, an attitude I have to continue holding this year.

The pandemic has affected many of my students, unsurprisingly. Some contracted the virus; others struggled with the negative consequences in their lives—taking care of their parents, finding new part-time jobs, etc. Some of my colleagues observed a clear sign of students' worsening performance under such duress. I didn't see too much of a decline, partly because I became in a sense an "easier" professor who loosens the rules to give students an easier time. At this moment of crisis, I often ask myself what is the ultimate goal of the higher education. Why should students care about their grades? What are they good for? I always thought that receiving a good education, and learning new knowledge are the basic needs of every citizen in the society. Yet having been working at a public university for more than five years and seeing many students from working-class background who try to make ends meet, I realized, gradually, that such an abstract and idealistic notion may not be compelling for everyone in our society, especially during an unprecedented pandemic. They need to find a job after graduation; they need to survive. I don't know how much this will change my future teaching, but at least it is something that worth contemplating. The higher education may be fundamentally changed after the pandemic.

Professionally, 2021 was a crucial year for me and I am glad that I have accomplished several major tasks listed in my last year's resolution. Above all, my first book was published on time in June, which was a huge relief. Given a decade of its making—and 15 years since I switched my career, it felt unreal to see the monograph finally out. Since its publication, I spent quite a lot of time giving book talks and interviews, consummated by a joint book launch on poisons that happened last month. In other words, I have been "consuming" my first book in the past six months, and I am tired of it. Now I am eager to return to the "production" stage, that is, reading and doing research for my second project.

The timely publication of my book certainly helped my tenure case. I submitted my tenure file in May and August, and did my best to enhance my dossier up to the beginning of October. Later that month, my department voted unanimous yes on my case, which made me very happy. There will be two more rounds of voting at the higher levels of the administration this year, and I should know the final result sometime in May. There is not much I can do at this point, just waiting for the final decision and hoping for the good news.

I also made some progress on my green card application. It has been a long journey, which I didn't anticipate at the beginning of 2021. With perseverance, hard work, and the support of my chair and many generous scholars around the world, the application was finally approved last month. Big relief indeed. After living in this country for over 20 years, finally I was able to get this practical issue settled.

There are other memorable moments in 2021: A trip to Acadia National Park in August with Igel, another one to Adirondack in the fall, and some local hikes. Life continues to be busy, and sometimes stressful, but we try to make the best of it by doing something fun and soul-soothing in this precarious world.

Here are my new year resolutions:

1) Make some good progress on my second project on aromatics. Finish an article manuscript on camphor by April. Finish another article on the history of aromatics by August.

2) Prepare for my sabbatical year in 2023. Apply for a few fellowships in the fall for my second project. Let's get a national fellowship, like Igel!

3) Finish several leftover projects on poisons, including one article on du/pharmakon to be submitted in the summer and one article of gelsemium to be submitted later this year. The article on the psychedelic drugs is still up in the air.

4) Make good progress on the Chinese translation of my first book, working with ZHY. Hopefully it can be published by the end of the year and make a splash among Chinese readers.

5) Make good progress on the rest of the green card application. Hopefully we can get our cards by the end of the year.

6) Develop a healthy routine of life. I have to admit that I didn't do well on this last year and I hope that I can do better this year. Don't stay up no matter what. Get up at 8AM and go to bed at midnight everyday. Give the best time to research everyday and handle logistics in the evening. Save Sunday each week for logistics and relaxation.

7) Keep reading. There are many distractions in life, but don't forget the joy of reading, either academic books or novels. Devote half an hour to reading before the bedtime, and read on Sundays. I hope I will read more novels this year!

8) Reduce the time of handling emails. Don't proofread your emails unless it is necessary. I was always lagging behind with my emails. With more administrative duties coming, I must be more efficient and practical in handling emails. Don't be unnecessarily obsessed.

9) Exercise more and keep it as a habit. Exercise at least three times each week (jogging, biking, swimming, indoor exercise). Try to do a local hike or walk during the weekend every couple of weeks.

10) Eat healthy and take good care of the body. Try to reduce 10 pounds so I can reach 150 lb. Eat routinely, more vegetables, and do my best not to eat dinner too late.

11) Handle some logistical works, including house organization and repairs. I was planning to get some of these done last summer, but never finished them. I should not postpone these long-overdue tasks anymore. 

12) Continue Duolingo on German and start thinking what other language I want to learn.

13) Develop a new hobby. How about picking up tennis in the summer? 

14) Have at least one trip with Igel to a national park or somewhere cool. We both need that badly!

15) More writing on this blog. I know this is part of my resolutions last year, which I didn't accomplish. Let's hope that I can do better this year!

Supposedly, 2022 should be a more relaxed year for me as my tenure pressure has been reduced. It is a transitional year for me. The key is to establish a healthy routine and work/life balance so I can have a sustainable career and life!

First book

 

My first book just came out two weeks ago! (June 27)

It is certainly a special moment in my life. I don't know how many more books I will be able to publish, but the first one is probably the most memorable.

It is a book of a decade's making, which is not unusual for an academic monograph. Ten years ago, in the summer of 2011, I was searching my dissertation topic in Cambridge—what a beautiful summer!—and gradually this project on poisons came into focus. I also started this blog during that summer (June 13, to be exact). I don't quite remember why I picked this topic—I think the poison/medicine paradox intrigued me. In that sense, the project started from an intriguing idea. Although the book has added more dimensions, that core has remained more or less the same.

But these are technical details after all. Holding my own book now, the memories go far beyond my Cambridge times. Back in Michigan days, in the fall of 2006, I was taking my first graduate seminar in humanities with Christian, who just started his AP position in History. One of the readings is a section from Benedict Anderson's classic Imagined Communities. I read the piece in a seminar room at the basement of my department (Biology), which is my favorite secret spot, and asked myself, "How is it possible for me to write a book like this?"

That was a different moment of my life. Although I was determined to switch my career, I still had lots of self-doubts. Even if I am passionate about humanities, can I do it? To write a book in English, at that moment, felt like climbing Mount Everest.

I still have doubts about my writing in English today. For a non-native speaker, those doubts probably will never go away, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. But the publication of my first book gives me reassurance. Language is not a formidable barrier to develop my career, though I can always improve it. What's more important is the idea of the book, and research behind it. In other words, substance matters more than style.

As an untenured scholar, I was lucky to have two generous reviewers who offered positive reports. In retrospect, I wish the comments could be harsher, to push me to further enhance the book. As a person who is always self-critical, I know well what are the pitfalls of the book. But as Katy told me, the first book is always functional—it builds upon the dissertation; it meets the tenure requirement; it confirms my scholarly capability. If nothing else, I got it done on time, which helps my tenure case. The next book, as Katy pointed out, could be more ambitious and bold.    

On the day of my book's publication, I made an announcement at several social media, upon Igel's push. I am not good at, or even interested in, self-promotion, as I don't enjoy being put in the limelight. But this is a special occasion—once in a decade, so I made a splash. Many congrats poured in, and to my pleasant surprise, I received warm words from some old friends, from Michigan days, Cambridge days, and beyond, whom I haven't been in contact for a while. It is touching to get connected to these old friends. Although I still don't enjoy fame—publishing an academic book is hardly a world-shaking event—I do cherish these beautiful friendships. Without their support, I won't be here.

I often joke with Igel that once I publish my book, I won't have any regrets even if I died. I am 44 years old, so this may sound too passive a thought. I guess that given the unique journey I took in the past 15 years, I am still somewhat amazed that I have reached thus far. I would like to say to myself: Congratulations. Your determination and perseverance have paid back.

Of course, I couldn't do this all by myself; many people helped along the way. It is a journey that started from a self-driven initiative, but has pulled in many kind and intelligent souls over the time. As K said before, writing a book is like paying a debt. He meant paying a debt to all those great writers who produced inspiring books. In my case, I am paying a debt to all those people who have supported me over the years. The book is not an affirmation of anything; it is just my way of saying thank you.

The post-publication days have been hectic due to the social media splash. I am here to reflect and remind myself of the 15-year journey I have taken. Life doesn't have that many 15 years, but I am very happy that I have put my past 15 years into good use. It is a somber reminder that if I do something I really like, I can survive, even flourish. It was no doubt a hard decision, but I am very glad that I made that decision.

Be proud, be humble, and more on, Yan!