Cameron T Ellis

Personal

I have attended several "Growing up in Science" talk series, and I have found them enlightening. Knowing the circuitous paths senior academics took humanized them and made my own story seem less improbable. I thought it might be helpful to tell a similar kind of story (so far) here. 

Childhood: I was born in Christchurch, New Zealand, a small city in a beautiful part of the world. I grew up in a loving family, the youngest of four, with a special ed teacher for a mother and a custom upholsterer for a father. We grew up with humble means, but my parents made my life comfortable. I went to great public schools — one of New Zealand's many treasures — and I liked them. Even so, I had a slow start: I was in remedial reading/writing until I was around 8, and English was always a challenging subject for me. My mother put in the work to make sure I didn't fall behind and was always there to answer my questions. My father, for his part, taught me how to run competitively. I wasn't very good at it, but it gave me grit and discipline that I think put me in the position I am in today. I tried really hard in high school to be a top student, but I fell short. I was always frustrated that the effort I put into studying didn't result in corresponding outputs, and other students made it seem effortless. I wavered on whether university was right for me. No one in my family had a degree. My older brother, who is much smarter than me, dropped out of uni after a year, so it seemed impossible for me. It was only in my last two years of high school, when teachers started to encourage me, that I decided to go. Plus, after years of trying, I learned I wasn't very good at upholstery.

Undergrad: I came to the University of Canterbury with many possible ideas of what I wanted to do.  My initial plan was to double major in Chemistry and Psychology and then become a Psychiatrist. Due to a scheduling quirk, my Psychology classes were in my first semester, and Chemistry was all in my second semester. By the second week of Psychology, I knew I would dedicate my life to the field. Up to this point, I had never been exposed to Psychology as a science — most people treated it as a humanities topic — and I was blown away at the insights that had been made and the questions that remained. Even so, the only field of Psychology I thought you could make a living in was industrial psychology, so I thought that would be my future. Two things happened at the end of my first year that put me on the path I am on today. Firstly, it turned out I was really good at Psychology! I used the same study methods that failed me in high school, but they worked very well at University. Secondly, a professor pulled me aside one day and told me that I was good enough to go to grad school in the US. Better yet, they told me that they would pay me to do it! These events lit a fire under me. I took 16/18 Psychology courses that my university offered (meaning I almost doubled the required credits to graduate). I ferociously read popular press books and essay collections on Psychology. I threw myself into research opportunities where I could find them. My undergrad university was extremely nurturing too, and I think my education was world-class.
After I finished my first 3 years, I transferred to the University of Auckland, the biggest University in the country. I treated this as a personal stress test of sorts: if I couldn't make it there, then I couldn't make it in the US. Fortunately, I thrived. Another test I made for myself was the GRE. I had never done a standardized test before, and it scared me. However, I studied for it for months using the free guides (as well as the "free" guides), and got a score that shocked me. Although I know more about the failings of the GRE now, it's apparent objectivity made me feel like I had a shot. Even still, I had no idea what I was doing. I don't think I showed a single person my statement of purpose before sending it, and I only applied to 3 grad schools (Princeton, Yale, and Harvard [I had reached out to two Stanford profs, but they weren't recruiting]). The fact I 'got in' was completely life-changing. Overnight, it felt like the track I was on in life changed.

Grad school: I loved Princeton from the moment I stepped foot on campus. I wanted to experience everything. I wanted to know every minuscule detail about the school's history, I wanted to attend all the talks, I wanted to see everything the US had to offer. I also wanted to ask every scientific question I could. My advisor, Nick Turk-Browne, was incredibly nurturing, bringing me up to speed on science and the culture of academia. Moreover, he arranged it so that I had the resources to ask grand questions. His lab was just as important, as I saw in them a path forward to becoming an excellent scientist. The research topics I pursued were diffuse, with infant fMRI being an important but small part initially. I thought that the chance of success was so low that I didn't want to risk everything on it. It wasn't until the end of my second year that I was convinced infant fMRI was not only possible, but could really make an impact in Psychology. Just as we were getting up to speed, the Turk-Browne lab moved to Yale. I found that transition very hard personally. Nonetheless, the research ultimately flourished at Yale in ways that I hadn't anticipated. Even though we hadn't published our data, I thought infant fMRI would give me a good chance to get a job. I decided to prolong my PhD to try and get as many papers out during the COVID pandemic as possible, and apply during my 7th year (2020-2021). Across my ~7 applications, I didn't get any phone or in-person interviews.
Post-doc: Fortunately, I wasn't too upset by these rejections. Moreover, I was lucky to land a post-doc with the inimitable Dick Aslin. Dick was incredibly supportive and was willing to have me apply for a faculty job in my first year. Of the ~20 positions I applied to, I received two offers, four other interviews in person/zoom, and one other phone interview. Despite not producing any new research between the two job cycles, I think three factors explain the different outcomes: 1. my major papers were preprints in 2020 but were published in 2021, 2. I was a postdoc rather than a graduate student, 3. the job market was tighter in 2020 than 2021. Personally, I found the job market extremely taxing. Even though I was successful, it burdened me daily and sapped my scientific productivity for ~8 months. I am over the moon with where I ended up, but I have survivor's guilt. Please reach out if you would like to talk about the difficulty of this process and ask for my materials if they would help.