North Americans value independence, and Europeans value togetherness. I never fully understood that stereotype until two months ago, when I left Canada for a 4-month period in a lab in France. On my first day, Pierre, a Ph. D. student, tapped me on my shoulder and asked: "Coffee?" I nodded and followed him to the common room, where other grad students were filling in. I sat there, cautiously sipping the bitter liquid and trying hard not to reveal my uncultured tastes, while lab chatter filled the air.
Coffee breaks are a ceremonial part of lab culture here. The chatter sometimes turns to serious scientific topics. But mostly, the meet-ups offer a chance to wind down, to share stories about life inside and outside the lab and to sympathize with people who understand what you're going through.
The lighthearted atmosphere and sense of community is a welcome contrast to my life in Canada, where I spent most of my workdays in isolation. I went into the lab each morning with set goals for my day. At lunch, I'd keep my eyes glued to my computer while I fed forkfuls of salad into my mouth, trying to power through my to-do list. For 9 months, I struggled to figure out why I couldn't exactly copy the results of another study. I didn't want to trouble my advisor too much. I was also hesitant to ask my labmates for help.
How much we were missing! Researchers need community because good ideas don't just come from reading literature and thinking deep thoughts. It's helpful to bounce ideas off others, and, to have a venue to share the day-to-day ups and downs of life.
Would coffee breaks have solved all my problems? Probably not. But I think sharing ideas with my peers would have helped solve my research dilemma. My time in France has taught me that it's important to create space for organic conversations about lab life. A scientist's life can feel isolating, but it's not necessarily so when you're connected to a supportive community.
