Below is a reprint of the acknowledgements from my dissertation, Sputnik Planitia as a probe for Pluto’s internal evolution’, deposited December 5, 2022.
My journey to a PhD in Earth, Atmospheric, and Planetary Science is a tale of two inflection points. The first was when I walked into Alan Levander’s geophysics class as a freshman at Rice University, buoyed by curiosity and absolutely no advanced math knowledge. I walked out determined to be a geophysicist. The second is when David Kring led me up and down the walls of Meteor Crater, Arizona, with a single-minded determination to show me where physical evidence met destructive process. I left Meteor Crater possessed by the desire to become a planetary scientist. And now, seven years later, that is what I am.
There is no greater gift in this world than to be given permission to learn. I was taught so well by so many, and that is why I have come this far. This acknowledgements section exists to note that my existence as a scientist was far from a sure thing, and is a testament to the many, many people who looked at me, saw potential, and then took the time and effort to help me realize it. And at long last, I can finally thank them for helping me bring this dissertation to life.
My life as a geologist and geophysicist began at Rice University, with my first geophysics class and a professor utterly bemused by having to teach someone who would enroll without any background in linear algebra or differential equations. I think I told Alan that I was a ‘big picture person,’ and that the numbers would come. And come they did. The professors in what is now the Department of Earth, Environmental, and Planetary Sciences truly changed my life. Cin-Ty Lee and Raj Dasgupta introduced me to minerals, patiently explaining the building blocks of rocks and driving vans of undergrads all over southern California to illustrate the wild intersections of metamorphism, intrusive volcanism, and the physics and chemistry that made it all happen. I took every class that John Anderson ever taught, because for him sedimentology was a story, and his goal was for us to be able to read outcrops like books. He is the reason I can look at a cliff face and see a delta. Lastly, my two advisors, Helge Gonnermann and Adrian Lenardic, let me pitch my senior thesis concept – looking at Saturn’s moon Enceladus – years before the deparment would add “Planetary” to its name. What’s more, they said yes. They took me seriously. They taught me, drove me to the whiteboard to understand dimensionless numbers and scaling laws – back-of-the-envelope tricks that would become the genesis for countless good ideas. It is not a small thing, to be taken seriously; the professors in the then-Earth Sciences department were not only willing to teach me, but to help me get to wherever it was I was trying to go.
I am sometimes told that I am a good writer, for a scientist! Well, if this is true, credit is due to the other degree I sought during my time at Rice. Getting a history degree has shaped not just my writing ability, but who I am as a scientist. It has driven me to think critically about the kind of research we do, why we have the tools that we have and where we get our data, who gets to do science, and who is left out. My history professors, most notable Carl Caldwell, Alan Matusow, and Caleb McDaniel, taught me that when I am most curious something I do not understand, the answer is to dig. To read more, to look deeper, and to think critically, not just about the information I have but the information I do not. Their passion for teaching, learning, and writing has made me the scientist I am today. And I do still consider myself a historian, even if it is on a grander scale and a longer timeline…. And on another planet entirely.
My time spent working towards my PhD spans multiple institutions. While moving institutions during a PhD can be very difficult, in my case I am immensely grateful, as I got to learn from two very different departments and meet many, many people who guided me on my journey. I began life as a graduate student at Brown, where I met a massive cast of incredibly talented young scientists. Sierra Kaufman, Erica Jawin, and Kat Scanlon were some of the first people I met while working in the lab, and their passion and drive for research inspires me to this day. My assigned mentor, Tess Caswell, turned out to be a perfect match – our love for icy satellites, scuba diving, flying airplanes, and knowing obscure astronaut facts has spanned a friendship that sustained me for years. The joy she finds in space exploration is truly unmatched. Other graduate students and staff, including Evan Bjonnes, Elizabeth Fisher, Bryce Matsunaga, David Blair and Jack Krantz, were also critical to my survival, as were, it must be noted, the Starbuck baristas on Thayer, with whom I shared a unique bond borne out of loving coffee, stickers, and spoken word poetry. Lastly, the dance community I found at Brown brought necessary light to my life. Sydney Skybetter and the dancers at Extension (most notably Anna Bjella and Julianna Marino) taught me to look beyond the science and the lab to the physics of the human body and the joy of physical connection. I can truly never thank them enough for this. The joy and creativity I found while dancing at Brown is what gave me the ability to keep going when science got hard. That, to me, is worth everything.
When I moved with my advisor, Brandon Johnson, to Purdue in 2019, I was able to meet a whole new group of magnificent scientists and wonderful people, who helped shape my ideas and guide my modeling efforts. Those include my co-advisor, Andy Freed, as well as the other two members of my committee, David Minton and Mike Sori. All of them have taught me so much about numerical modeling. Thanks to them, I know that the key to numerical modeling is following the boundary between what the computer can do and what we know the physics should tell us. I have learned to ask questions that can be answered by the balance, and that in many ways the way to work through an error is to just keep exploring. I was stumped many times during my PhD, by both simple and complex problems, and Brandon, Andy, David, and Mike all made time to guide me through those roadblocks. So much of a PhD is learning how to learn, and this is what they taught me. I am also so thankful to the other faculty at Purdue that I got the chance to work with and learn from. Michelle Thompson was always full of sage advice. Ali Bramson, Briony Horgan, Darryl Granger, Chris Andronicos, and Lucy Flesch all provided key insights that helped me along, as did Bill Fornes. Lastly, I want to thank Jay Melosh. He shaped the field of impact cratering, formed the foundation for the work that I’ve done, and taught me so much during the time that I had to work with him in the department. He is sorely missed. To this day, his incredible writing in his textbooks and papers inspires me to improve how I communicate my science. He once told me, very seriously, that I had something unique to contribute to this field and that I should carry myself as someone with a bright future. I will always keep his words with me, and I hope that one day I can produce writing that helps as many future scientists as his have.
Outside of Purdue, I have also met numerous collaborators and mentors in the field whose support has helped immensely. In particular, Alyssa Rhoden, Angela Stickle and James Keane have been wonderful mentors and sounding boards for my ideas. I’ve learned so much from them and their approach to science. They’ve reminded me that making mistakes and encountering setback can be an opportunity for creativity rather than despair. Many other people offered me critical advice along the way, including JA Grier, Andy Rivkin, Caitlin Ahrens, Alan Stern, Kelsi Singer, Veronica Bray, Caleb Fassett, Tim Goudge, Jon Kay, Nicolle Zellner, Sonia Tikoo, May Mei, and Steve Desch. The field of planetary science is full of kind, creative, and wonderful people, and I am so lucky to keep finding them. As I begin my postdoc at the Lunar and Planetary Lab, I am so thankful for the support of Erik Asphaug and his group, including Robert Melikyan, Namya Baijal, and Alexander Emsenhuber. I am so excited by how much more I have to learn.
There is quite a lot of science in this dissertation, and I have talked here primarily about scientists. However, what truly fueled me during this PhD was my friendships. My friends are absolutely brilliant. They have made me laugh during my darkest moments, listened attentively to many pedantic rants about Pluto, and reminded me that I am so much more than any misplaced comma in my code. Rachel Sheppard and Richard Vachula, two incredible scientists I met at Brown, kept me going for all six years, and I love to see them thriving. Together with Matt Yeaton, our academic-level discussions of The Muppets, Fast and Furious, and Magic Mike are a never-ending source of smiles. Catheryn Ryan, my wonderful astrobiologist friend who I met by chance at LPSC in 2017, inspires me every day with their joy for science (and love of their dog, Ellie). Truly, we are with each other to the end of the line. The friends I met at Purdue, including Amanda Rudolph, Dara Laczniak, Vanessa Iacocca, James Haber, Evan Kinnevan, Greg Gosselin, Riley McGlasson, Marie Henderson, Tim Henderson, Carlisle Wishard, Moe Mijjum, and Erika Gotfredson, are all wonderful academics – but more than that, they’re all wonderful people who lifted me up when I was at my lowest and lovingly narrated episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race for me when I was too concussed to see. I have never seen season 13 with my eyes and I truly never need to. The self-described ‘Adeene Cheering Squad’ of Sierra Ferguson, Sondy Springmann, and Margaret Landis, was a never-ending stream of common-sense advice for the freaked-out grad as well as love and support. They are so smart, so kind, and so willing to help me out at odd hours. Sierra, along with Divya Persaud, also kept my dreams alive through endless discussions of Star Wars. My great friends from Rice, Lexi Malouta and Nur Schuba (the Serp Crew, for our mutual love of serpentine), have stayed with me from the start, sending jokes, art, and sage advice from afar. I hope to see you again soon, and get the hot pot we deserve. Beck Strauss was a font of wisdom, labor and queer theory, and reminders to eat and sleep. John Christoph reactivated my love of history during times when the only history I knew was Pluto’s. Lastly, Paige Bailey, my teammate in being blonde, into what computers can do for rocks, and playing indie music, has been a light in my life since Rice and her perspective has been invaluable.
Several other groups of interest that I have not forgotten: my friends and family in Telluride, including Annica Abbot, Malin Colliander, Dave Gruss, and Dave Chew, reminded me that seeing a mountain can fix almost anything. My longstanding Dungeon and Dragons group, including Ashling, Paco, Shane, Ben, and Matt, have made me laugh harder than I’ve ever laughed before and really had me think outside the box. Ashling, our DM, is the smartest, most creative person I know. The Loom and Zoom group I met during the pandemic has been amazingly supportive of me during countless Zooms in which I was near tears due to some coding problem. Thank you to Sondy, Sage, Jane, Liz, Karl, Laura, and the rest of the gang. And, of course, all of the pets who had their photos sent to me during the course of my PhD. Your cuteness is an endless force for good – this includes Kota and Fio, Raleigh and Mako, Ellie and Reggie, Rosie, Mimas, Lola and Georgia, Frankie and MTB, Zazz, Pippin, and Zia, and more. If any of their owners read this acknowledgements section, please pet your furry friends for me.
Lastly, I must discuss those to whom this dissertation is dedicated: my family. Camille, Laddie, and Treye Denton are everything to me. If grad school was an ultramarathon, these three were my pacers. When I flagged and faltered, they reminded me to sleep, to eat, to stop for a second and breathe; when I begged them to let me quit, they told me I had to keep moving forward, even if it was at a snail’s pace. In no uncertain terms, they got me across that finish line. My parents have tolerated far more discussions about the intricacies of Pluto than anyone ever should, and supported me without question. My brother dropped everything and drove hundreds of miles to help me when I got a concussion in the middle of my PhD in the middle of a pandemic. But more than that, he makes me laugh. I also want to thank Sarah Wolff, our newest family member, who has been a wonderful sister-in-law throughout my six years of madness as a graduate student. I cannot wait to keep knowing you. Thank you all for constantly pushing me to be better, to never give up, and to see solutions in the setbacks. And thank you for raising me on Carl Sagan and The Muppet Show. There is no more powerful combination to make a scientist into a dreamer, or a dreamer into a scientist. To this day, I think I’m both.
These acknowledgements are long. Very long, even. This is because I am in possession of a long memory and a thankful heart. To those who are mentioned here, I cannot thank you enough. Please know that each day I stay in this field, doing science and communicating it to the world, learning and teaching and growing, I am thinking of you. As Merlin once said in The Once and Future King, “There is only one thing for it then – to learn.”
