I was recently in a car with a consultant and a woman who works at the Harvard School of Public Health. They were asking me questions about my graduate program. I told them I would be here AT LEAST another 2.5 - 3.5 years and they were shocked.

“But what will take so long? Just your research?” the consultant asked.

“Well… yeah.”

“But why? What do you do?”

In these sorts of conversations, here is where I sigh and give a smile that says, “Are you sure you want to ask that question?”

You have to know your audience when you answer these types of questions. If I’m talking to fellow engineers, I can tell them that I fabricate and characterize diodes. If I’m talking to non-engineers, I usually sum it up with, “I make computers work faster.”

Most non-engineers say, “Oh wow, cool,” and that’s the end of that. Sometimes, though, you get someone who really wants to know more.

I was once traveling with a law student friend of mine. Our flight from Atlanta to Boston was delayed for two hours, so we plopped down in some airport seats, put our feet up, and he asked, “So what do you do?” He’s a smart cookie, so as I explained, he asked more questions. I spent the entire delay and the entire flight back to Boston explaining transistors, diodes, and strain. At one point, I found myself sketching energy band diagrams on the airplane tray table, trying to explain crystal momentum.

I didn’t go quite as in depth with the consultant and public health worker, mostly because I didn’t have the time and I was trying to navigate my car through Boston traffic in rush hour. We reached our destination and they commented that what I do seems very technical. Usually, that’s code for, “I don’t have a clue what you just said.” The look on my face must have betrayed that interpretation, because they followed it up with, “But you explained it so well!”

I gave myself a high-five for that. I’m pretty sure they won’t be rushing off to apply to engineering graduate school, but maybe their computers don’t seem quite as mystifying anymore.

I love prospective students. Really, I do. You guys are so grateful for every little bit of information we can give you.

“Where’s the closest bathroom?”

“Down the hall and on your left.”

“Thanks! Thanks so much!”

“… no problem?”

But seriously, what I love about the prospectives is that they bring with them a sense of excitement and awe that is easy to lose once you’re in lab all the time. At dinner on Friday, one of the new admits commented to me, “I’m just so interested in everything! Will they let me get 7 PhDs?”

It’s really refreshing. The prospectives aren’t focused on getting out… because they just got in. The best ones are the ones that we’ve convinced to come here by the end of the weekend. (Somehow, some folks are still tempted by certain other schools on the west coast. I don’t understand.) By the time the weekend is wrapping up, they’re asking questions about Boston and restaurants and apartments. They’re already transitioning to life here, thinking ahead, planning, and getting excited. And that rubs off on the older students. As I started to answer questions, I realized what I was saying.

“Yes, Boston IS really awesome. Yes, MIT spoils you with resources. Yes, there are so many different types of people here that you never get bored. Yes, there really are SO MANY opportunities.”

Sometimes it takes fresh eyes to make you realize all of that.