On Thursday, October 24, 2024, I had the honor of being the guest speaker at the Ambitious Women’s Society Student Organization induction ceremony at the University of Louisiana Monroe. We released three butterflies at the end, each signifying one of their pillars. Here is a derivative of my speech:
Many people see me speak or hear my inspirational quotes that I blog or they hear of me and my butterflies and they assume that my smile is permanent and plastic. They assume that I am always just this happy. Some even assume it’s a facade. Granted, it does take a lot to get me down, but I can admit that it’s also not easy staying uplifted. It takes a great deal of effort to keep going when the going gets tough. As much as I want to encourage you today, I also want to warn you. When you step into your purpose, sometimes you will feel like you live in a bubble. You will be in the world and work in the world, but you will sometimes feel estranged from this world.
As you can imagine, being a scientist who works in an anatomical laboratory and studies insects in her free time isn’t the most common gig. It’s a great conversation starter for shock value, but it’s not the most relatable. More often than not I’m met with “ew” and not someone being in “awe.” It helps me stand out for sure, but that in itself can be discouraging.
Just a little over a year ago, I was working long hours at my hospital job in the blood bank. I had been doing clinical laboratory work for 3 years by then, and I had already felt like I reached my ceiling and I wanted more. I knew I hadn’t tapped into my full potential. Not only that, but the environment of that constant, strenuous work was stripping me of all my brainpower and creativity. I would come home and crash more often than not. I knew this was not living.
When I felt myself called to more and felt this passion rising within me, I couldn’t yet put everything into words. I also very quickly realized that when God gives you your purpose, rarely is it a conference call. What will make so much sense to you, will not always make sense to others. Choosing the path less traveled means that a lot of times you will walk alone as you try to pave a road for those coming behind you. As much as your loved ones will try to support you, some will never fully “get it.” Just think, “How can others truly help you make something come to life that they have never seen as well – especially if they are not gifted in the way that you are?” These realizations and others were things I had to come to terms with.
I felt urged to start this project called “Jas from the Lab.” At the time, it didn’t have a name or structure, but I knew what fulfilled me was showing people, children in particular, that there was so much more to Medical Laboratory Science.
Pictured: Young child observing a butterfly proboscis (mouthpart) under a microscope as we discuss insect anatomy and trailblazing African American entomologists during Black History Month.
I wanted people to know we didn’t just press buttons in a laboratory like so many think because no one sees us. People see their nurse or meet their doctor or get to know their phlebotomist, but the actual scientist behind the tests, no one sees them or what they are doing. So I stepped into that role. Some days I would work the night shift, nap, and then go briefly do a presentation I was not getting paid for. Though I enjoyed it, it was hard. My peers, my colleagues, and some friends thought I was going insane.
“Jasmine, why are you taking on so much extra work?”
“Is this for clout?”
“Don’t you want to be traveling or turning up?”
“What is the end goal here?”
“You already have a good job. Why are you not satisfied?”
“Are you getting paid for this?”
Even if people didn’t always say these things out loud, and sometimes they absolutely did, this is what I perceived through many interactions.
When I think about great anomalies like myself or when I think of the Einsteins or the Elon Musks or any other big name you can think of, we often look back in admiration in hindsight after the success comes, but if you read their stories, more often than not, they are rejected by their peers and their societies they grew up in. In those present moments, no one gets it.
If I’m honest, this bothers me. If I’m REALLY honest, quite a few times I’ve found myself mad at God. I am sometimes upset at the calling on my life because who doesn’t want to feel accepted? Who doesn’t want support? I’m not saying it will never come, and I also don’t want you to think you have to abandon your life or friends, but I want to warn you today that there are times in this journey when the only thing propelling you forward is your voice in your ear. This has to be the loudest voice you hear. When those other voices die down, you have to speak up and encourage yourself.
I had to know that what I was building at that time, what I was starting, was bigger than me even if I didn’t fully know what the endgame was either. I understood that that was my time of sacrifice for something better along the line. Unfortunately, I learned, that the people here today will not always be here tomorrow. Through this journey, you will shed a lot of things to get to higher heights.
“Jas from the Lab” has grown over time, and I have been able to add other subjects besides medical laboratory science like entomology, which is the study of insects. For a brief time along the way, I volunteered at various community gardens by building pollinator habitats and doing activities with kids. This transitioned to me raising butterflies at home to the point where I can now do traveling science exhibits either showing the lab side OR the nature side.
Pictured: Young child observing various specimens under a pocket microscope during a community resource fair.
That’s a whole story in itself on how that came to be, but long story short, I can't even tell you where the nearest entomologist is in Monroe, La let alone the nearest African American one. Imagine the confusion when I tell people, “Hey I want to study entomology!” However, those experiences of spending so many hours doing community service, and helping coordinate volunteers, and those long days in the heat were what I believe are part of what allowed me to get to the job I have today. Those small pieces didn’t make sense then, but they became part of the bigger picture today. I don’t regret those years of sacrifice to get here.
The butterflies themselves teach me so many things. They say for every 100 butterfly eggs laid in the wild, only about 10 make it to the adult stage. In nature, things just kinda happen whether it’s not enough food available, or predators come and eat them, or whatever the case is. When I think about the fact that butterflies typically only live 2-3 weeks at most, and some moths only live about a week, I think “God why would you spend so much time making these tiny, delicate creatures for them to not even be on this earth long?” It seems like such a waste, but that makes up part of the beauty of it all as well. The butterflies don’t count months like we do. They count moments.
Working in the hospital I would hear of young people dying. Because I was in the blood bank, I sometimes worked on trauma cases where I was able to see firsthand how faint this life was. You can be here today and gone tomorrow. You know what I’ve observed from the insects, though? Butterflies make their faint lives count. They don’t mourn their caterpillar stage. I’ve never witnessed a caterpillar that didn’t want to grow. I’ve never seen a butterfly that didn’t want to fly away. Regardless of what other caterpillars didn’t make it, someone or something, in this case, had to make it to tell the story. Broken wings and all, they press on.
Pictured: Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus) with a tattered wing feeding on yellow Lantana bush.
Accept that sometimes God will call you further than others will go – sometimes farther than people are even willing to or want to go. Sometimes you’ll find yourself alone in your chrysalis or cocoon growing and developing. You won’t always know what’s next, but what you do is YOU keep going. Count the moments, and make the moments count. Keep shedding anything that won’t fit your next season, even people. Let God orchestrate every step and trust when things don’t go according to plan because, in the end, you will be a beautiful picture. Inside the chrysalis, a lot is happening. Every cell of the caterpillar is broken down except these few select cells that were laying dormant this whole time. These special cells have the “codes” to make the butterfly.
Pictured: Eastern Black Swallowtail Butterfly (Papilio polyxenes) chrysalis on fennel plant in my home garden.
What happens when every part of you that you’re used to will not fit into your next season? Can you trust that God put something in you that already has the code for your newness? Can you let yourself be molded in that way?
To grow, you have to have room to grow. Much like the caterpillar sheds its skin and even head 4-5 times before making its big change, allow yourself to shed.
Pictured: Gulf Fritillary Butterfly (Agraulis vanillae) head capsule under a microscope.
Permit yourself to change. Don’t follow the crowd, but know that it’s okay to be ambitious and want to seek new heights. When it's time for butterflies to migrate, they trust the changing seasons. They trust their new places will have what they need. They understand that the ones that don’t make the journey, have their purpose. Their purpose may end as a caterpillar, and that’s okay! It’s life and nature is not always understood. However, don’t you dare rob yourself of blazing a new path because you’re afraid to fly.
If you had told me when I graduated as a Laboratory Scientist that in 3 years I’d work where I work now and have insects in my house, I’d for sure look at you crazy. Even now that I’m here, I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know if this is where the journey ends. I just trust what’s now. I wake up every day and give it my all. I count the moments, and I make the moments count.
“The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.” -Rabindranath Tagore
Pictured: Gulf Fritillary Butterfly (Agraulis vanillae) on Lantana Bush.
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