On Mentorship
My path to science and medicine has been anything but linear. In fact my path can be easily described as — backwards. After undergraduate training, I went directly into a PhD and subsequently a postdoctoral fellowship. It was through this experience that my interest in medicine and a drive to become a physician-scientist were formed.
Ultimately, this led to medical school, residency in internal medicine, cardiology fellowship, another postdoctoral fellowship, and now faculty and principal investigator. Despite this circuitous path spanning nearly two decades, I genuinely feel that, for me, I could not imagine any alternative — this was the path that I needed.
Through this journey, I have had the unique opportunity to learn from incredible mentors — as an undergraduate, PhD student, postdoctoral fellow, medical student, resident, fellow, and early faculty member. I often find myself returning to a central question:
What makes a good mentor?
My impression is that above all:
A good mentor identifies the right support, at the right time, for the right person.
Importantly, the type of mentorship someone needs as an undergraduate, a PhD student, a postdoctoral fellow, or a clinician-scientist is fundamentally different — and each individual requires distinct mentorship.
As a mentor, I believe in first creating an environment — one grounded in shared respect and intellectual curiosity — and then working to develop a genuine understanding of a mentee’s interests and goals.
Through that process, we can identify the right support, for the right person, at the right time.
On building a path in science
Scientific careers are often described as if they follow a clear and logical progression—a series of steps that fit neatly together like pieces of a puzzle. In reality, most paths are far less linear.
I have come to think of a career in science less as a puzzle and more as a painting: the definition of “complete” is not fixed, and what may initially appear as missteps or detours can ultimately become central features of the final picture.
My own path has been shaped by periods of uncertainty, moments of perceived failure, and opportunities that only made sense in retrospect. Early in my training, I struggled with a sense that my work lacked broader impact, which ultimately led me to pursue clinical training in medicine. Later, projects that did not go as planned created space to explore new directions—work that has since become central to my research program.
These experiences have reinforced a perspective that I now carry forward into the lab: that scientific careers are not defined by perfectly aligned steps, but by how we respond to unexpected challenges and opportunities.
I encourage trainees to think less about constructing a perfectly coherent narrative from the outset, and more about pursuing meaningful questions, remaining open to new directions, and recognizing that what may initially seem like “bad luck” can, over time, become something far more valuable.
