Jeanne Garbarino

About Jeanne Garbarino

Double X Science Biology Editor Jeanne Garbarino is a Bronx native, mother, and wife. She is also a metabolic biologist – turned Director of Science Outreach at The Rockefeller University (RU). In this role, she helps bridge the gap between scientists and educators, and also creates scientific programming to help engage K-12 students. Jeanne began her research career as a PhD candidate using yeast as a model system to study the molecular basis of fat metabolism, and continued her studies as a postdoc in the Laboratory of Biochemical Genetics and Metabolism at RU, where she tracked how cholesterol molecules move inside of a cell. Outside of the lab, Jeanne is involved in science communication initiatives, such as the monthly science discussion series, SpotOn NYC(#SoNYC). These events are open to anyone who is interested about how science is conducted, and are hosted at RU. She also spearheaded the creation of The Incubator – a science blog written by the RU community. Jeanne has contributed to several scientific outlets, including Scientific American, The Huffington Post, and Double X Science. You will never catch Jeanne eating meatloaf or brussel sprouts. Ever.

Opinion: Balancing work and home life

First move is ours: Ditch the guilt weighing you down.

by Jeanne Garbarino

On Monday, April 15th, two very profound things happened.

The first event was and is nothing less than harrowing and wretched. That afternoon, two bombs were detonated at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. This senseless act robbed this earth of three lives, including an eight-year-old boy, and resulted in countless injuries, many severe. Word of this tragedy spread rapidly, resulting in a global outpouring of compassion.

The second event was much more isolated, affecting only a handful of people, including me. Just hours after the news from Boston started streaming in, I joined my colleagues at The Rockefeller University in a discussion about work-life balance led by Anne-Marie Slaughter. Slaughter, who was catapulted into the limelight after her famous (infamous?) Atlantic article “Why Women Can’t Have It All,” presented compelling and honest points about gender equity in the workplace, and the current devaluing of the caretaker role versus that of the breadwinner. While it was a minor point in her presentation, Slaughter said something that burned into my brain: One of the most common things people say on their deathbeds is that they wished they’d spent more time with their family, that they had worked less.

The juxtaposition of these two events in my personal space-time continuum has made me seriously reevaluate what the hell I am actually doing in my life. On one hand, I am a caregiver. I have two special and very Continue reading

The 2013 Flame Challenge Question: What is time?

By Biology Editor Jeanne Garbarino

Last year, Alan Alda presented scientists all over the globe with a challenge: explain what a flame is to an 11 year old. This was born out of his personal experience when, at age 11, he asked his teacher what a flame was and was given a one word, and completely incomprehensible answer, “oxidation.”

As a founding member of Stony Brook University’s Center for Communicating Science, Alda is committed to promoting better science communication from scientists. In an effort to enhance the dialogue between scientists and the general public in a fun and meaningful way, Alda initiated the first ever The Flame Challenge competition. Much to everyone’s surprise, this creative competition was a big hit, and over 800 entries were submitted (including mine!). Each entry was vetted for accuracy and then judged by entire classrooms of 11-year-olds located all over the world. The winner of the first Flame Challenge was a graduate student and father, Ben Ames, who presented the public with an incredible story and original music that thoroughly explained the concept of a flame.

Because of the success of last year’s Flame Challenge, Alda has set out to do it again. However, instead of asking the question himself, he crowdsourced the question from — you guessed it — actual 11-year-olds. “Last year’s contest question came from a real 11-year-old: me,” Alda said. “But when I asked what a flame was at the age of 11, I was probably younger in some ways than most 11-year-olds are now. They’re asking a very deep question this year. It’s going to be fun to see how scientists around the world answer  that one in everyday language.”

According to the press release, the Center for Communicating Science collected about 300 questions from children, ranging from “Does the universe have a known end?” and “How does the brain store all that information?” to “Why are Shetland ponies so small?” But, once the votes were counted, there was one question that reigned supreme: What is time?

 










Scientists will have until March 1, 2013, to submit their answer, and this year, there will be winners selected from two categories: written and video/graphics. Once submitted, the explanations of time will be scrutinized by over 5,000 11-year-olds worldwide. The winning scientists will be rewarded with a trip to New York City and honored at a World Science Festival event on June 1, 2013.

For more information on entering or judging the contest, or to see last year’s top entries, please visit www.FlameChallenge.org.


If you are planning to enter, best of luck! I can’t say that this is an easy question, and I look forward to seeing all the wonderful answers come spring. Happy sciencing!

Ben Ames award winning explanation of a flame:

 

Crowdfunding on the Brain: Finding Biomarkers for Early Autism Diagnosis

By Biology Editor, Jeanne Garbarino


If a child is diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD), it is because they have gone through a number of rigorous behavioral tests, often over a period of time, and never straightforward. Of course, this time can be a stressful for parents or caregivers, and sometimes the answers can lead to even more questions. One solution to the waiting and uncertainty would be to have a medical test that could more easily diagnose ASD. However, no one has been able to identify biomarkers – molecules in the body that can help define a specific medical condition – for the condition. Without this type of information, it is not possible to create a diagnostic test for autism.


Having been through this process with their son, who is on the autism spectrum, Clarkson University scientists Costel Darie and Alisa Woods have decided to work together to help address this issue. An interdisciplinary laboratory that combines hardcore proteomics (the study of the proteins we make) with cognitive neuroscience is probably not what you think of when it comes to running a family business. But for Darie and Woods, “marriage” has many meanings. This husband and wife team has combined their brainpower to embark on a scientific journey toward understanding some of the biochemistry behind autism, and they are walking on an increasingly popular path to help finance their work: crowdfunding.


A major goal of the Darie Lab is to identify biomarkers that are associated with autism and then to create a medical test to help alleviate some of the frustrations that come with the ASD diagnostic process. Using a technology called high-definition mass spectrometry, the Darie Lab has outlined a project to figure out the types of proteins that are in the saliva or blood of children with ASD and compare these protein profiles to the saliva or blood from children who are not on the autism spectrum. If the Darie Lab is successful, they might be able to help create a diagnostic test for early autism detection, which would undoubtedly fill a giant void in the field of autism research and treatment.


Here is how the experiment will work: The members of the Darie Lab will collect saliva (and/or blood) samples from children, half of whom are on the autism spectrum and half of whom are not. The researchers will prepare the saliva or blood and collect the proteins. Each protein will be analyzed by a high definition mass spectrometer, which is basically a small scale for measuring the weight and charge of a protein. The high definition mass spectrometer will transfer information about the proteins to a computer, with special software allowing the Darie Lab investigators to figure out the exact makeup of proteins in each sample.


The bottleneck when it comes to these experiments is not getting samples (saliva and blood are easy to collect), and it isn’t the high-tech high-definition mass spectrometer because they have access to one. Rather, the bottleneck comes from the very high cost of the analytical software they need. Because this software was not included in their annual laboratory budget but is critical to conducting this experiment, the Darie Lab is raising money through crowdfunding.


Why I think a contribution is worth the investment: Technology is always advancing, especially when it comes to protein biochemistry. The high-definition mass spectrometer is a recent technology, and according to the Darie Lab, they have been able to identify over 700 proteins in the saliva alone. This is quite an incredible step up from traditional mass spectrometers, which could detect only around 100 proteins in saliva. Just because we haven’t been able to identify biomarkers for autism in the past doesn’t mean we can’t do it now.

In addition to the use of this new technology, the Darie Lab presents some compelling preliminary evidence for a difference in protein profiles between those with ASD and those who do not have ASD. While they’ve examined only three autistic people and compared them to three non-ASD individuals, the two groups were clearly distinct in their saliva protein profiles. If this pattern holds up with an increased number of study participants, the implications could be quite significant for autism research.
 
Preliminary data from the Darie Lab shows that there are saliva proteins showing a 20X or greater
difference between ASD (ovals) versus sibling non-ASD controls (rectangles).

If you decide to kick in some funds, your good deed will not go unrewarded. As a thank-you for contributing, the Darie Lab has offered up a few cool perks, including high-quality prints of microscopic images in the brain.



If you are looking for a good cause, look no further. I am excited to see how the Darie Lab crowdfund experience goes, and I wish them all the best in their quest, both as professionals and as parents. To find out more, or to make a donation, visit the Darie Lab RocketHub page.

Fluorescent images of the brain, available to those donating $100 or more.
The opinions expressed in this post do not necessarily agree or conflict with those of the DXS editorial team and contributors.

Double Xpressions: Jennifer Canale, the self-proclaimed "Flamboyant Scientist"

Jennifer Canale is a Senior Microbiologist for the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in Queens, NY, as well as an adjunct microbiology lecturer for City University of NY (York College and College of Staten Island). Jennifer is also passionate about promoting women in science and leads an annual women in science event at the FDA as a means to promote awareness about gender discrimination in the workplace.

[DXS] First, can you give me a quick overview of what your scientific background is and your current connection to science?

 

[JC] I have always been interested in science, and since most of my family worked in Bellvue Hospital, I was very comfortable around people in lab coats. In the early seventies, at the age of 5, I announced to my grandfather, the X-ray technician, and his brothers (my great uncles) that I wanted to become a doctor, specifically a doctor that delivers babies.
My grandfather was proud and my uncles were dismayed. My uncle Joe said to me, “Jennifer, you mean a nurse like your cousin Joanie, right?” My cousin Joan applied to Medical School in the sixties and the same group of uncles convinced her that her fiancé, Warren, wouldn’t wait 4 years to get married and it was more lady-like to be a nurse. Today she is a retired left-handed OR nurse that specializes in cracking open chests for cardiac surgery, not so lady-like after all. So in an attempt to not have a repeat of Joanie, my grandfather jumped to my defense against his brothers and said that ‘she can be a doctor if she wanted to be’, and, furthermore, his niece Joanie was smarter and more capable than most of the doctors he worked with and shouldn’t have had to take orders from them.
My uncles agreed that there was no question of the intellectual prowess possessed by both Joanie and myself, and their reluctance came out of concern for me. They worked in the hospital, too, and saw how male doctors would abuse the female ones and make their lives more difficult because they didn’t want to allow girls in the all-boys club. “Do you want our baby – our most precious blood – to have to fight her whole life for this? What about the family – how will she find a husband and bring us more children if she sticks her nose in a book the rest of her life?” These arguments sounded a lot better when they were stated in Sicilian. Back then, the concept of ‘women can have it all’ – work and family – was not the norm like it is today.
My grandfather came back with his final answers to them. I was his granddaughter, I looked just like him, I was a fighter just like him, and this is America and she will be what she wants to be, ‘End of Story’. My uncles agreed that I was his granddaughter, I looked just like him, and I was a stubborn mule just like him, so he was probably right and they would pray for me and secretly hope I would change my mind.
Now this all transpired in front of me in a combination of English and Sicilian while I stood there in my denim overalls with a Tweety Bird patch. I was listening, and since I was only beginning to learn Sicilian, I only caught a couple of words: blood, children, book, change, and I misunderstood the word for fighter as “afraid.” I added to my grandfather’s “end of story” remark that I was not afraid of blood, I can learn how to deliver children from a book, and questioned why they wanted me to change- those overalls were my favorite!
My family was supportive to a point, but when I asked for an erector set for Christmas, I got a Barbie town house. When I wanted to go camping with the Girl Scouts, I was sent to dance school (but, much to my amazement, I enjoyed that until I was 17). My parents started giving in around 3rdgrade, and I got the panda bear-shaped calculator I wanted, as well as the robot toy 2XL featuring the 8-track tape. My mom would beg me to watch Little House On the Prairie, but I preferred Star Trek (the original Kirk version), Lost in Space (Danger Will Robinson), and Land of the Lost. Of course this was all my dad’s fault according to mom – he was the sci-fi guy, but he always said, “Jen was born this way!”
My parents eventually gave up, and my uncles kept praying for that change of mind, but I spent the late seventies and early eighties winning science fairs with experiments my Uncle Ben, the electrician, rigged for me. They thought there was hope for me to be more “lady-like” in 1984 when I started high school and wanted to try out for the cheerleading squad, but the teachers advised me that “the cheer squad” was no place for an “honor student” like me. So it was off to advanced placement Biology and Chemistry, and by graduation in 1988, I was accepted to the pre-med program at NYU.
I graduated from NYU with honors, and my parents got me two presents: my name in diamonds and a stethoscope. My grandfather bought me a set of crisp white lab coats and gloated to his brothers with a cigar in his mouth. Apparently a bet was made amongst them and from hence forward they had to call me “doctoressa,” the hybrid feminized version of doctor in Italian.
The NYU pre-med was highly competitive – a constant process of elimination from 500 students (1:3, female:male) down to only 109 of us actually completing the program. The men thought it was strategic to flirt with the girls and convince us that we shouldn’t become doctors but instead should marry them. The guy that told me that got a punch in the stomach – in the name of the other women that worked. It was also apparent that many were planting the seeds of doubt in the pre-med females, stating that if we became doctors, then we wouldn’t be able to have a family. In essence, we were being told that we would be giving up the chance to have children. You had to go against your “true female nature” to breed and nurture and (instead) become a selfish and testosterone-like human to make it in this field. That was the nail in the coffin for a lot of the women in my program. The most brutal tactic and final blow to confidence was when I heard someone say that “only the ugly girls become doctors because no man would want them.”
In the nineties – halfway through college – I did change my mind, and my uncles were dancing in the streets. They thought I met a nice boy in college and I was going to settle down, give them more kids, and make sauce and meatballs on a Sunday like the good Paesana I was supposed to be. I announced I didn’t want to be an MD anymore, I wanted to be a PhD, instead. I wanted to be a SCIENTIST, do research, and maybe teach in a university. A “Scientista”-“Professoressa” “Aiuta Dio” (which means help us god)! Back to church and the rosary beads. When I got my master’s degree in microbiology, the family was just convinced I liked to collect graduation hats.
There was a feeling among my family members that science was a “boy thing,” and my cousins teased me as a result. They considered me a nerd and less feminine than my other girl cousins. I was told that I would never get married and have kids because I am a bookworm. Even in the mid-’90s, I had friends that told me not to tell guys that I was a scientist because they wouldn’t ask me out. I was kind of cute and only told a guy the truth about my profession if we got serious. As an experiment, I told one guy I met that I was a scientist and he said I looked too sexy to be that smart – and then he walked away.
I met discrimination on both sides of the stereotypical coin, in academia and in the work force. I was told when I was interviewing for graduate schools (and then for science jobs) that I had several strikes against me. First, strike one, my thick Staten Island/ Brooklyn accent supposedly made me sound less intelligent. My mentor in graduate school, Dr. Mark Albano, said to tell people to kiss your “you know what” because as long as I could discuss topics like “molecular genetics” who cares how it sounds. Besides he found my accent endearing, especially because it made boring topics sound more interesting.

Strike two was my long hair. I was told that my long hair was not practical in a scientific environment, and if I looked too glamorous on interviews I would not be taken seriously. I put my hair in a bun and toned down my make-up, but I didn’t cut it. Apparently, I looked too feminine, especially given my major curves, and even my power suits could not hide that. Women at the time were dressing very masculine (think early Miranda on Sex in the City) to compete with men for jobs. When I got the interview for my first job with Dr. Moretti in the Reproductive Immunology Lab at St. Vincent’s Medical Center in Staten Island, I remember wearing a black and white houndstooth print sheath dress with a matching short suit jacket, accessorized with pearls. Dr. Moretti said I was like Rosalind Franklin and Jackie Kennedy all rolled up into one, with a side order of cannoli.

 

The early 2000s arrived, and attitudes toward science changed. Shows like CSI became wildly popular. Science fiction movies about transforming robots became blockbusters. People began to use technology in their everyday lives, such as smart phones, tablets, and car navigation systems, and it suddenly became “cool.” I met my husband in 1999, and since I really was into him, I told him the truth about being a “microbiologist” from the start. He said, and I quote, “Wow, your smart, sexy, and Sicilian – it’s like I hit the Lotto!”
My wedding was the most joyful event in our family’s history because most of them thought that would never happen. I still get teased by my family when I give a long, drawn out scientific explanation of something or when I bake and make exact measurements of ingredients with my Pyrex bakeware with both the ounces and metric conversions. My husband responds for me and says “he learns something new everyday and hopes that our son becomes a nerd just like his mommy.”
So now I have it all: I am a female scientist, a wife, and a mother, even though others didn’t think that would be possible. But I always knew it would happen. I understood and forgave my uncles because I knew that they wanted to protect me, not hinder me. As for all my doubters I regularly take Dr. Albano’s advise and tell them to kiss my “you know what!”


Even my current supervisor, Maureen Coakley, recently told me in an interview that I am an “anomaly,” meaning that I am a flamboyant scientist. That was one of the best compliments I ever received. I am who I am, and that is why my playlist on my iPhone has the “Big Bang Theory Theme Song” followed by “I’m sexy and I know it!”
Times have changed. Perceptions have altered in a good way, but not entirely. Lesson learned from both academia and the school of life is that some people will get you and some people won’t. If they don’t, don’t take it personally because it is their loss and their ignorance. Some people see the person, and some see the stereotype. All you can do is try to educate them in an attempt to bust the stereotype. The only perception that matters is how you perceive yourself and use that perception as a means to become the woman that you were meant to be.
[DXS] What ways do you express yourself creatively that may not have a single thing to do with science?
[JC]Ever since planning my wedding in 2004, I have been interested in event planning. I have a knack at coordinating events, which I do as part of my collateral duties at FDA, where I have served as the Women’s Program Coordinator for the past 9 years. People call me the “Fun Fairy” because I can be very creative and take any topic, put a different and interesting spin on it, and present it to a group in very entertaining ways. My creativity is driven by my intellectualism, and I incorporate that into something fun and memorable. I always make little inexpensive favors – buy them to give out to my audience – that are”theme oriented,” and they keep them as a reminder of the event.
The people I work with have whole collections of these favors, and they remember what each one stands for. For instance, the Women’s History Month theme for one year was “Our History is Our Strength.” Before planning this event, I had attended at NYU the Satellite Summit of National Women’s Conference hosted by Maria Shriver (then 1st Lady of California) and the First Lady, Michelle Obama. So I thought I would highlight the contributions of the First Ladies to US history. I found an educational video on the history of the First Ladies, did a presentation on the Satellite Summit, and even had a fashion show featuring of reproductions of Jacqueline Kennedy jewelry collection (my favorite first lady). I used the symbol of a “Cameo” to represent the first ladies, and so I made a huge paper one with beads on tulle on my bulletin board with pictures of the first ladies around it and gave out cameo bracelets that I made from gluing plastic cameo buttons on ribbon. Everyone still has a cameo on their desk at work, occasionally conjuring up memories of my First Ladies event.
[DXS] Do you find that your scientific background informs your creativity, even though what you do may not specifically be scientific?

[JC]My entire life is influenced by, or even revolves around, “Science.” I love science fiction movies, books, comic books, etc. Any inspiration I get for any of my creative projects always has some root in something “science-related.” I also think that my background in science helps make my visions come to life. Even the smallest details like the stemware I chose for my wedding was a Mikasa pattern that resembled a DNA double helix, or a hexagonal candleholder that looked like a benzene ring (at least it did to me!). Another example comes from my Women’s Program, when the theme was “Writing Women Back Into History.” So I found a book called The Women of Apollo, which gave the untold story of the women engineers who had critical contributions to the Apollo Space programs. For me, all roads lead back to science.

 

[DXS] Have you encountered situations in which your expression of yourself outside the bounds of science has led to people viewing you differently-either more positively or more negatively?
[JC]I have experienced both negative and positive views by others when I am expressing my self creatively. On one hand, there were people that associate planning events with a negative stereotype of being a “party-girl” or “bimbo” type that cares more about the “girly fun” stuff than the serious business of science. On the other hand, there have been people who constantly praise me for presenting science-related topics in entertaining ways. The latter view me as a “flamboyant scientist” who shares her knowledge in an interesting manner. In this life you will never please everyone; only seek to please yourself and your loved ones because those are the only opinions that matter.
[DXS] Have you found that your non-science expression of creativity/activity/etc. has in any way informed your understanding of science or how you may talk about it or present it to others?
[JC]In planning these events, I have come up with a formula of sorts to create a successful soirée. Of course, this formula is an entire science in itself. I have to consider things like timing, lighting, printed materials (programs, table cards, menus, etc.) and a gamut of other things that involve an understanding of science. I am a biologist with a minor in chemistry, but the more I do these events, the more I get into things like astronomy (for a celestial-themed wedding, for instance). I mention lighting, which seems so simple, because it is actually quite complicated – getting the right reflections and materials to use (i.e.- LEDs, wax candles vs. battery operated, the limitations of pyrotechnics in party venues) is critical. Even in doing crafts for favors and printed materials, like event programs, I’ve learned different scientific techniques, such the right kind of bonding agent to use to attach ribbons, charms, or vinyl decorations, or even the use of edible ink in printers to make fondant or wafer decorations to put on cupcakes or cakes. It is a continuous learning experience.
[DXS] How comfortable are you expressing your femininity and in what ways? How does this expression influence people’s perception of you in, say, a scientifically oriented context?
[JC]I am comfortable with expressing my femininity in the way I dress and conduct myself in any setting. Although, many years ago, I was advised to dress in suits and tailored shirts similar to a man and wear neutral make-up or none at all if I wanted to be taken seriously in the scientific world, I went against the grain. I am a curvy girl, and there is no hiding my femininity. So I embrace it. I wore suits, but nothing drab – always something like a red or purple skirt suit with heels. I adhere to work environment rules like no open toe shoes in the lab, which is a safety concern, but I do not downplay my female attributes to fit in, or to present a more palatable image to my scientific peers. I do not concern myself with people’s perceptions of me based on my looks because once I “speak” and “communicate” scientific concepts, there is no question of my prowess. I am what I am, and that is a female scientist, and I pride myself in being a “stereotype buster.”
[DXS] Do you think that the combination of your non-science creativity and scientific-related activity shifts people’s perspectives or ideas about what a scientist or science communicator is? If you’re aware of such an influence, in what way, if any, do you use it to (for example) reach a different corner of your audience or present science in a different sort of way?

[JC]I think that being the “flamboyant scientist” works in my favor, and as a science communicator, it is effective all aspects of my life. As an adjunct professor, my students often thank me for making science fun and understandable. As a scientist, my colleagues and interns find my training methods to be memorable and actually increase their understanding of the job. As the Women’s Program Coordinator at the FDA, I create unforgettable events that people look forward to and learn a lot from. As a wife, mother, daughter, aunt, cousin, and friend, I am the “Fun Fairy” (pictured with wings and a lab coat), and their lovable nerdy girl.
I feel my true gift is being able to communicate science. My mentor in graduate school always told me I had the talent of taking complicated scientific ideas and expressing them in a way that anyone could understand. I have some ideas brewing involving science books for children and teens, and I would like to explore these avenues in order to share this gift with others. I would also like to get involved in maybe writing for popular science publications, if given the opportunity.
[DXS] If you had something you could say to the younger you about the role of expression and creativity in your chosen career path, what would you say?
[JC]I would say be true to yourself. Whatever path you take career-wise, always remember that is could be something you will be doing the rest of your life. Yes, there are financial considerations to make, but if you do not have that creative outlet incorporated into your career, then you will be miserable. I am the happiest at work when I am planning a Women’s Program alongside doing experiments or going to my second job as a professor at York College. You need the creativity to keep the blood flowing. Where would science be without creativity? Find what your talent is and what makes you happy, and then apply it to your career. That is the secret to success.

Getting Naked for a Good Cause


Source
By DXS Biology Editor, Jeanne Garbarino

I arrived at my building’s outpatient unit at 1:38 pm (I work in a hospital). Although my appointment was at 1:40 pm, I still gave myself a huge pat on the back for being “early,” which, technically, I was. A few signatures later, I was handed a paper gown of fairly decent quality and was instructed to wear it, opening to the back, after removing everything except my skivvies. There I was, sitting on the examination table, feeling quite vulnerable. And then I looked down. Crap! My legs were still in hibernation state. Even though doctors aren’t supposed to judge, I just didn’t see how this could fly under the radar. My only hope was that someone much more hairy had already been examined, setting some arbitrary threshold that would place me under “I’ve seen worse” category. Before my mind drifted into a state where I imagined every possible uncomfortable doctor-patient exchange, the doctor entered the room. It was a dude. I was a bit disappointed but there was nothing I could do about that. It was apparent that I was slightly embarrassed, and his attempt at making small talk did not help to dispel the awkwardness of having to let him scan every inch of my skin, including my you-know-what areas, for abnormalities. But I knew that this exam could save my life.

Skin cancer is the most common cancer in humans and comes in several varieties, including basal cell carcinoma (BCC), squamous cell carcinoma (SCC), and melanoma. BCC is the most commonly acquired skin cancer, accounting for nearly 80% of skin cancers reported. As its name implies, BCC develops in the basal layer of the epidermis and often presents as a pearly, flesh colored nodule, usually on areas that get sun exposures (head, neck, arms). SCC, which arises in the squamous cell population of the epidermis, is the second most common type of skin cancer, affecting approximately 200,000 people each year, and often resembles a scaly patch surrounded by a red halo of inflamed skin. While sun exposed areas are more vulnerable, SCC can occur anywhere on the body (including genitalia) and, if not detected in a timely fashion, can spread to other areas in the body. The nastiest version of skin cancer is the potentially (and often) fatal melanoma. Either developing in a pre-existing mole or spontaneously appearing as a new dark spot on the skin, melanoma claims the life of one person per hour in the United States alone (including the life of my great uncle, Hank).


Source
There are a number of misconceptionswhen it comes to skin cancers, such as the notion that people of color are less vulnerable. While an increase in the amount of the skin pigment called melanindoes provide more protection from the sun, the skin cancer survival rate for people of color is considerably lower than that of Caucasian people.  This has mainly been attributed to a delay in detection, highlighting that everyoneneeds to undergo regular skin cancer screening procedures.  Also, it is commonly thought that early signs of skin cancer should be painful.  However, there are no symptoms associated with the development of most skin cancers and, other than visual signs, early skin cancer lesions can feel like normal skin. 
The best bet is to be aware of the skin cancer risk factors, including sun exposure, family history, medical history, and number of moles, so that you can better protect yourself. Also, using water-resistant sunscreen containing both UVA and UVB protection (SPF 30 or greater), seeking shade whenever possible, and avoiding tanning beds, are great tactics for skin cancer prevention. Even if you follow all the rules, be sure to give yourself a periodic self-examination. Furthermore, get screened by a professional on an annual basis. Visit the American Academy of Dermatology to locate the free skin cancer screenings in your area.

Remember, even though you might have to bare your body to some random dude (with credentials), early detection is the key for survival. Plus, it’s all over in 5 minutes or less. I’d trade that for a healthy lifetime any day.

Headlights and beads on a string


A line of cars and their headlights: a reminder of higher DNA organization.
(Source)
by Jeanne Garbarino, DXS biology editor

My commute can often cut through some interesting scenery, leading me to occupy myself by staring through the windows. However, it was only the other night that I noticed the highway running parallel to the train. It was packed with cars as New Yorkers were fleeing to their homes in order to brace for the imminent blizzard. Needless to say, the road traffic moved at a snail’s pace.

My vision of the highway and all of the beaming headlights reminded me of when I was a kid, stuck in traffic as a passenger in the back seat of my parents’ car. I would try to take my mind off of my seemingly infinite confinement by pretending that the glowing headlights coming toward our car were diamonds, strung up on the most amazing necklace ever made. Truly extravagant beads on a string. But, seeing that sight again no longer conjured up thoughts of priceless neckwear. Instead, these brightly lit “beads on a string” immediately reminded me of one thing and one thing only: the cellular organization of DNA. (Talk about science on the brain.)

In addition to my (sad?) association of consecutive headlights with DNA organization, this imagery also summoned previously dormant areas of my brain, bringing to my current consciousness pictures of my college genetics professor and her lessons on DNA packaging. All of a sudden, I was thinking about histones, chromatin, and solenoids, which are all terms to describe the higher organizational structures of DNA.

Actual “beads on a string,” aka DNA being organized for packaging.
Because we’ve been able to capture images of these structures using microscopes, the “beads on a string” analogy is the classic description used by scientists and teachers to talk about how DNA is packaged in our cells. It essentially describes an elegant solution that has evolved to keep DNA both compact and easily accessible. To fully appreciate this, one must consider the scale of this molecular machinery. If placed end-to-end, the DNA found in a single human cell would be approximately 2 meters (6.6 feet) in length. Now imagine having to package the DNA into a compartment within the cell, called the nucleus, that is so small it can only be visualized with the aid of a microscope. Put another way, this is equivalent of packaging 40km (or 24 miles) of super fine thread into something the size of a tennis ball.
How is it possible to do this in such a way that prevents the DNA from becoming a tangled mess while still allowing the cellular machinery to easily access the important information kept in our genetic code? The answer starts with the enlistment of specialized proteins called histones. A length of DNA will wrap around a histone core (1.75 times to be exact; equivalent to 146 base pairs), essentially giving the illusion of a “bead” with each bead separated by a short, linear segment of DNA approximately 60 base pairs long, called a “linker.” Together, one bead plus its neighboring linker sequence is called a nucleosome. When examined on a microscope, the serial organization of each nucleosome unit resembles “beads on a string” and, hence, the analogy has been forever implanted in my mind.
(Source)
More appropriately termed chromatin, the “beads on a string” is only the first level of organization required for DNA packaging with our cells. Chromatin can be further condensed into higher-order structures accomplished by interactions formed between nucleosomes. What has helped me to understand this process is the following: Imagine you have a long, thin stick, around which you begin to tightly wrap a chromatin fiber. Then, after all of the chromatin has been spiraled around the stick, you slide the stick out leaving a tube-like structure. The tube, which is held together through the interactions formed between nucleosomes, is called a solenoid. The solenoid can be further condensed by looping, ultimately resulting in a super tight and compact packaging of DNA.

The hierarchy of DNA organization. Source.

So, will the next time you see headlights in traffic make you think of DNA organization? For my sake, I sure hope so!

For more information, check out this video:

Also, check out this interactive site from HHMI.