My name is James Moss and this is my second blog post (the first is here). I’m a Senior Teaching Fellow in the Faculty of Medicine and I focus on teaching physiology – the body and how it works – to our medical and science students. These posts will be my own thoughts and reflections, and will hopefully give you a (non-invasive) look inside my head at different times of the year.
After a long summer of tumbleweeds rolling through the foyer of the Sir Alexander Fleming Building, our Freshers arrived and second years returned, and the building regained its usual hustle and bustle. There were downsides, however: much longer queues for lunch and much more difficult to book a room at short notice! That said, the buzz is totally worth it.
Commemoration Day and my President’s Medal
October 2017 was the first year I attended the Commemoration Day, where our graduating students celebrate their enormous achievements in the Royal Albert Hall, alongside their friends and family. Seeing students that I’ve taught hear their name, smile widely and walk across the stage to shake hands with senior academic staff generated many proud moments.
This was a particularly humbling day for me because I was the recipient of a prestigious internal award (a President’s medal*) for my contribution to teaching. As such, my family and I were treated as VIPs for the day and even had a chaperone. For someone like me who is independent to a fault, this was a very weird situation)! My parents, wife and brother watched the ceremony from the Queen’s Box and were treated to great wine and food. Fortunately, when the time came to receive the award, I made it safely to my prearranged spot without tripping – the Events Team plan the day with military precision. Later, a student in the audience did send me a photo accusing me of sleeping during the kind words the Vice-Provost said about me. That definitely wasn’t the case! (more…)
Not quite a million-dollar question, but one I am often asked by students I bump into over the summer months, who seem perplexed to see me on College premises. “But there’s no teaching” they’ll say, which is a fair and accurate statement. My job title is Teaching Fellow, which means I’m employed to design and deliver teaching sessions for our students. Fortunately for me, variety is the spice of life, and there are lots of different ways I spend my time.
This summer I marked way over ten thousand marks worth of questions across five different exams, which is almost 37.5 hours in itself (technically a full week of work!), and these papers get turned around – marked, double-marked and ratified – within ten days in time for the exam board (a meeting with senior teaching staff and external examiners).
This summer I’m working on different research projects, along with all of the other things. Several of these are collaborations with undergraduate students on medical education projects (like evaluating new teaching methods or software to support learning), which is an exciting way to work and provides students with a unique experience (and hopefully a taste of research that can inspire them in the future). (more…)
Tucked away in Charing Cross Hospital is Imperial’s best-kept secret: The Pathology Museum. Housing a 2,500-strong collection of anatomical specimens, the Pathology Museum contains some rare and unique artefacts dating from 1888, including the first hysterectomy performed in England.
Carefully curated by the Human Anatomy Unit (HAU), the specimens are grouped together based on organ systems, creating a well-arranged display of human pathology. The museum’s primary function is to help educate medical and biomedical students to diagnose diseases. The museum also hosts a number of conference and short courses in pathology for experienced professionals.
The collection incorporates specimens from across the Faculty of Medicine’s founding medical schools, there are an astonishing 4,000 further specimens not on display. This vast archive provides a snapshot of the historical foundations of the medical school. (more…)
It was extremely challenging for me to stare back at the four rejections that faced me. Four rejections from four separate medical schools. Four independent reviewers telling me I was not to be a doctor. I had to endure seemingly unending encouragements and sympathies from friends and family. Their attempts were well-meaning, but often repetitive. My particular favourite was “I believe Edward Jenner didn’t get into medical school the first time round”. This, of course, was a complete fabrication. I think I always had this naïve cockiness about me, an artless assumption that I had the necessary experiences to stroll into medical school. Perhaps rejection had a subduing effect on my ego, though, I probably would presume most of those who know me would thoroughly disagree.
Nevertheless, it occurred to me that I had a year to convince the doctors of now that I could be a doctor of the future. But then I thought again. I had an entire year to do what I wanted. I found myself avoiding medical work of any sort, and take up a job in a bakery. I normally stop here when I want to impress people, to give the impression that I mastered the art of conjuring delicious, enticing pastries. In fact, it is due to my semi-duplicitous nature that many people still think of me as a great baker. But I’m not. In reality, my primary role was to serve customers, clean and wash up (as well as outline the difference between spelt bread and gluten-free bread: a distinction I still don’t understand to this day). It was an enjoyable job, and it provided me with some money to fuel some travelling later on. Moreover, I had the blessing of taking home two full bags of artisan breads untouched by the day’s customers — a perk which became more and more hedonistic as the year went on. (more…)