Jupiter was getting brighter than I’d ever seen it, brighter in real terms, closer to the earth, than it had been since 1963. And not only was it getting closer than ever, the online forums said it would be in “opposition”—directly opposite the sun from the earth’s perspective, like a full moon, only a full Jupiter.
In an abrupt move, the National Science Foundation (N.S.F.) has narrowed eligibility for its Graduate Research Fellowship Program (GRFP). With effectively no transition period and little advance notice, the change has caught thousands of prospective applicants by surprise.
There is an inner crack that runs through women’s journeys in science—the hesitation, the feeling of being out of place. But as Leonard Cohen wrote, that’s how the light gets in.
The Houston heat wrapped around me like an invisible shield as I navigated the city with the strange feeling that I was not walking to a lab or a museum, but to something that provided silence. The Rothko Chapel is hostile to sound: black walls, enormous canvases, light that doesn’t so much illuminate them as permeate through like some ancient sigh.
When the sky turned red from wildfire smoke and the acrid air stung the eyes of Southern Californians, a different kind of fire emerged—one lit by the pens, lenses, and voices of high school and college journalists.
I stayed awake at 2 a.m. during my first week at Caltech, sitting on my bed surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. On one side was a physics problem set that I didn’t understand, and on the other was this small book everyone whispered about—the little t. I initially thought it was some campus oddity, like an inside-jokes dictionary I hadn’t learned yet. But curiosity eventually got the better of me. I opened it.
