The way I am | Science

A year ago, I had one of the most meaningful interviews of my life. It was a job for which I had been working for years, as a doctor, researching and teaching and caring for patients – a rare and highly competitive type of job in the UK. Towards the end of the interview, I was asked how to balance the different parts of the role. I was waiting for this question and I had thought about how I would answer. Still, I hesitated. I could say what I thought the members of the interview group wanted to hear: I'm able to multitask, prioritize and delegate, and I was confident I could juggle the various responsibilities. It would have been true, but it did not seem authentic. The most honest answer was that I knew it would be difficult, but I still wanted to try. I did not know what answer to give.

"Trying to be considered someone other than me was not the right approach."

I've encountered a similar problem 12 years ago when I applied to a medical school. I was only 17 years old and my education had me believe that there were only good and false answers, especially at the exams. In my mind, the interview was a review – it also contained correct and false answers. But I did not know what they were. Nobody in my family was a doctor. I come from the wrong side of the tracks, as they say. I had worked at a decent local school and I was doing well in my classes, but I did not speak like my classmates or as I imagined doctors.

So I found some typical answers on the Internet, which reassured me. But when I tried using these answers as templates, it even seemed to me to be a fake, as if I was trying to be someone that I did not know. 39 was not.

This tension caused me to stumble during the interviews. My own answers competed in my mind with those I had found from other sources. The iron wires met on at least one occasion, when an interviewer asked me to give an example of an occasion where I took care of myself. The answer that came to my mind is that I volunteered at a retirement home and felt privileged to sit down with the residents and listen to them. stories. But I did not think it was dramatic enough to impress the interviewers. So, instead, I told them about when one of the residents got sick and I cleaned it up. I immediately felt embarrassed. This was not the case; it was cleanliness and basic hygiene, and this suggested that my best quality was to master with a mop. At that time and there, it was clear to me that trying to appear someone else than me was not the right approach.

My next attempt at an interview took place a few years later, for a position I would start after my medical studies: a clinical work with a small component of university research. I did not really know what the panel was looking for, but I felt that I had little to lose: New doctors in the UK are almost guaranteed a "normal" clinical work somewhere in the country and I did not expect to be invited to interview for this more specialized position in the first place. So I just introduced myself as I am and not as I thought the panel wanted me to be. I did not guess myself. My answers were just that – they were mine. I was comfortable and I really enjoyed the experience. And I was offered the job.

Go quickly to my most recent interview and the question of how to juggle the multiple responsibilities of the role. I hesitated, but not for long. I had learned the importance of being true to myself. So I simply replied, "With difficulty."

To my surprise and relief, the review panel members nodded knowingly and laughed. They seemed to tell and appreciate my frankness and willingness to show my human side. I started work a few months later.

I realized that the interviews did not have "correct" or "wrong" answers. I still see them as exams, but they do not test my ability to dwell on someone else 's answers. The answers have always been easier than I thought, because the exam is about something I know well: me.