Philosophy and Reflections


A Map of Tiny Perfect Things in Biology

I was blessed with the opportunity to gain intensive teaching experience during my Ph.D. program, teaching both lab sessions and delivering pre-lab lectures. I taught Genetics Lab and Biochemistry Lab, and even served as the director for the Biochemistry Lab for a semester. Here is my teaching philosophy. Following that, you’ll find thoughts from two of my students about their experiences in my biochemistry lab and pre-lab lectures.


A Map of Tiny Perfect Things in Biology

I see biology as a map for “tiny perfect things”—genes, proteins, patterns, and pathways—all interwoven in a complex system of biological meaning. My goal is to help students not only build specific research and analysis skills, but also understand how each research approach reveals deeper biological insights. I strive to create a learning experience that is approachable, inquiry-driven, and inclusive. Ultimately, my students won’t just learn the subject—they will grow into scientists themselves: self-driven, technically adaptable, and committed to lifelong learning.

TEACHING PHILOSOPHY

Over the years, I’ve refined my teaching philosophy around three core approaches: 1. Teach from the student’s perspective— to reduce cognitive overwhelm when approaching complex scientific material. 2. Design inquiry-based classes— to foster critical thinking, scientific curiosity, and resilience. 3. Encourage students to teach— to cultivate ownership of learning and develop structured science communication skills.

1. Teach from the Student’s Perspective When I was in college, I was fascinated by the intricate “perfect mechanisms” in biology—but I often felt overwhelmed. Every concept seemed critical to memorize, yet I lacked a clear system to connect them all. Only later did the puzzle pieces click into place, revealing the bigger picture of how biological systems interconnect. That experience shaped my core teaching belief: I strive to “teach like a learner”.

For example, in bioinformatics—where students often face intimidating programming environments or unfamiliar statistical concepts—I prepare each class by imagining how it might feel to encounter the topic for the first time. Rather than diving straight into code and datasets, I begin by clarifying the biological question, then explore the conceptual approach for addressing it. From there, I help students connect each step to prior knowledge, gradually layering in technical complexity.

I structure lessons to build a mental “map” for students, clearly signaling where we are and why it matters. For example, when teaching RNA-seq data analysis, I would start with the underlying research question—such as identifying antisense transcripts or comparing differential expression—then explain how those goals influence sequencing library choices. Only after this foundation is clear do we explore mapping parameters and scripting details. This keeps students grounded in purpose, not lost in syntax.

I also share my own struggles as a learner—like the time I got stuck on the very first step of installing Python on an HPC cluster. These stories humanize the learning process and help normalize early frustrations. Through these moments, I aim to create a learning environment where complexity feels navigable and students build confidence not only in mastering tools, but in understanding the biological significance that drives them.

2. Design Inquiry‐Based Classes I want my students to see biological research not just as a set of technical skills, but as a process of discovery. I approach teaching by mirroring real scientific inquiry: we begin with a question, examine data, and discuss how researchers extract meaningful conclusions from complex figures.

My inquiry-based approach is deeply rooted in my past biochemistry lecturing experiences. For instance, when teaching DNA structure, I don’t simply state that Photograph 51 revealed the double helix. Instead, I guide students to ask: how did scientists uncover it? We explore logics behind crystallography, diffraction patterns, and emphasize that Rosalind Franklin took many unclear images before capturing the one that uncovered everything. This helps students see that science is nonlinear—a human endeavor shaped by trial, error, and perseverance.

By introducing ambiguity, I aim to strengthen their ability to critically interpret results and troubleshoot— mirroring how researchers navigate pivots facing ambiguous results.

3. Encourage students to teach I believe science communication is essential, and students learn best when they teach. Memorizing an answer is one thing—but explaining the reasoning behind it requires a much deeper understanding.

During office hours, when a student is stuck, I help them break down both the question and their current understanding of the solution. Then, I ask them to explain it back to me. This role reversal often uncovers lingering misconceptions, reinforces learning, and helps students see themselves not just as passive learners, but as confident problem-solvers.

This philosophy also shapes how I guide course projects. For example, in a research poster assignment, students often begin by listing individual papers from their literature search without connecting them into a cohesive narrative. To guide them, I encourage the mindset: “Tell me the story.” I ask them to consider which paper provides essential background? Which shows evidence or presents a conflicting view? How do these fit together to support your project goal? This storytelling frame encourages clarity in understanding and structure in presentation. Student feedback shows greater ownership of their project and improved ability to communicate complex scientific ideas effectively.

ADVISING AND MENTORING

Outside the classroom, I see advising as an opportunity to help students recognize their own strengths and uncertainties. Rather than immediately offering rigid suggestions or overwhelming resources, I act as a reflective guide— helping students uncover the roots of their drives or doubts.

A pre-med student once came to me uncertain about whether to pursue graduate school or medical school. Instead of telling her what to choose, I listened closely and asked what hesitations she had about each path. Through our conversations, we realized her doubts weren’t about the goals themselves, but rather stemmed from losing focus in lecture-heavy classes—while feeling energized during hands-on lab sessions. I pointed out that her anxiety came not from making the “wrong” choice, but from limited exposure to either profession. Together, we explored graduate seminars, medical school events, and research lab opportunities—ways to experience both environments more directly before deciding. d By addressing the root of her uncertainty, she realized she didn’t need to abandon either path. Instead, she could focus on gaining real-world experience and strengthening the shared skills both careers require. That way, her choice would come from clarity and confidence, not pressure. This student-centered, reflective approach is at the heart of my advising philosophy: great mentors don’t hand out answers—they help students discover who they are.

DIVERSITY AND INCLUSION

As the only child studying science among my families and childhood friends, I remember how foreign and overwhelming a career in science once felt. Today, I strive to create a learning space where every student can see themselves as a scientist—regardless of their background or prior exposure to the field.

One way I do this is by emphasizing the human side of scientific progress— integrating stories and professional journeys that reflect diversity in identity, personality, and impact. In my biochemistry lectures, for instance, I highlight how Hans Krebs’ legacy extended far beyond the Krebs cycle—through his mentorship and the research communities he helped shape. When teaching Sanger sequencing, I contrast the personalities of Frederick Sanger and Linus Pauling to show how distinct work styles and values can shape both research directions and social outcomes. Later, in a session on the Michaelis–Menten equation, I spotlight Maud Menten—not only for her contributions to enzyme kinetics, but for her perseverance in science despite the gender biases of her time.

These stories paint a fuller picture of who contributes to science, inspire students from underrepresented backgrounds, and underscore how diverse voices and problem-solving approaches are essential to innovation. My goal is for students to see themselves reflected in these narratives—to know that science isn’t just made for them, but also shaped by them.

CONCLUSION: A LIFELONG MAP

My goal of teaching centers on helping students build a cohesive, adaptable map of learning biological science—one that allows them to see both the “tiny perfect things” and how they connect across an interdisciplinary science terrain. By teaching from a learner’s perspective, encouraging inquiry, and promoting ownership, I aim to equip my students with confidence, curiosity, and critical thinking to keep exploring beyond my classroom. I strive to empower students with the resilience and motivation to carve their own paths in science—so they, too, can uncover their own “tiny perfect things”.
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photo of me teaching
first semester of teaching


Students’ Feedback

feedback 1

“I was a student under Lead Teaching Fellow Shican Li throughout my Biochemistry Lab course at Georgetown University in the Fall 2018 semester. Under Shican’s instruction, I was consistently engaged with and excited about the material as a result of her enthusiastic teaching style and wealth of knowledge in the biochemistry field. Shican not only put in great effort to individually connect with each of her students during laboratory hours, but also made herself readily available throughout the week outside of class time to discuss difficult concepts and provide extra help. I particularly appreciated Shican’s efforts to not only explain the relevant course material, but also her creative idea to further our knowledge of science throughout history by including weekly highlights of scientists from diverse backgrounds in each of her lessons.

Based on my experience with Shican, I believe that her main strengths lie in her ability to connect with her students and her passion for science that clearly presents through her teaching style … …”

— Sabrina Ciervo, Georgetown University Class of 2020

feedback 2

“I was a post-baccalaureate student in a biochemistry course for which Claire was a teaching fellow. Every week, Claire prepared an in-depth pre-laboratory lecture to give us context for the weekly experiment. Within these lectures, Claire patiently walked us through the foundational concepts underlying each lab technique, as well as providing the overall educational motives for the experiment. Additionally, she provided in-lab entertainment by exploring the personal lives of many of the great historical biochemists. Claire was always available outside of lab to provide students with extra assistance on either lecture or laboratory material.

As her student, I appreciated that she never spoon-fed us answers. She had every faith that her students could learn the material if guided with the right questions. In lecture, her humanistic approach to historical researchers was very enlightening, and helped to underscore the political and enterprising aspects of science. Additionally, her feminist attitude toward the future of women in science was extremely refreshing. I know that I, along with several other female students in the lab, were gratified by Claire’s passion about the rising number of women in research.

As a post-baccalaureate student, I’ve taken many classes with a wide array of teaching assistants. It’s very clear to me that Claire genuinely cares about her students and their education. She’s very passionate about learning and puts a great deal of time and effort into helping her students grow as critical thinkers … … “

— Jennifer Henry, BA