I've spent the past week trying to come to grips with one of the more painful losses of my life: my PhD
advisor, Margrit Betke, passed away a week ago today. This post is written in celebration of her beautiful life
and
the profound impact she had on me.
For those who may not know, Margrit was my PhD advisor from 2010 until my graduation in 2015 (see photo). From
the
very start, I consistently shared with all I knew that she was the most amazing advisor. She provided me
with a
constant sense of safety, support, and belonging, and I am where I am today in large part because of the
doors
she opened for me and the lessons she taught me along the way.
Margrit had an incredible gift of making people (including me) feel important. This came through in the
seemingly mundane parts of life, such as responding to emails typically within hours, a simple gesture that
regularly communicated she cared. She would also spend countless hours—often into the late night (or following
morning)—working by my side to write publications and funding proposals, teaching me the art of communicating
ideas
with clarity and impact. And she so thoughtfully and authentically shared about herself, continuously
offering
stories about her experiences and sharing her opinions to help me navigate my life both as a researcher and as a
person finding my way in the world. Anecdotes like these can be heard in many of my peers’ accounts as
well,
including from Diane Hirsh Theriault and Sarah Adel Bargal.
Margrit also was a brilliant puppeteer, in the best sense, so skillfully building opportunities I never thought
to
even dream of, while standing in the shadows. In my first year, she brought me to a workshop at Carnegie
Mellon
University to learn from the greatest minds about computer vision for cell analysis, and then to Italy for a
conference on human computer interaction, where we even found a moment to enjoy gelato in Rome with our mothers
(see
photo). And every year until 2021, Margrit wrote letters of recommendations and nominations that
continuously
created new opportunities. This includes in 2013, when I was selected as one of only two students in our
college for an all-expenses-paid trip to Singapore, where I met and heard talks from Fields Medalists,
Millennium
Technology Prize and Nobel Prize laureates, Turing Award winners, and even the President of Singapore (see
photo). This also includes in 2015, when I received my department’s Annual Research Excellence Award (see
photo). And, most recently in 2020, her unwavering support culminated in helping me land my dream job as an
Assistant Professor at CU Boulder. To be clear, when I have shone, I have felt each time that was in large
part
because I had Margrit as a fearless, constant cheerleader ensuring a spotlight followed me.
Margrit was also one of the most important role models in my life by being just who she was. It’s impossible to
think of her without remembering her genuine curiosity and bubbling excitement for new ideas. As with any
innovator,
she was no stranger to hardships, but she brought grit and even gratitude in the face of regular rejections on
the
journey to success. I will never forget one of my first paper rejections, when I delayed sharing the bad news to
avoid distracting her from her other imminent deadlines. When I finally did share the news, she simply said “I
have
developed a thick skin” and then walked me through all the useful feedback we received that could help us
improve
the related grant proposal we were writing (which was then later awarded!). Margrit embodied what it means to be
a
lifelong learner, and she taught by example how to live a life with passion, resilience, and joy (constantly
smiling).
While it is incredibly painful to say goodbye to someone who meant so much to me, it's been an honor of a
lifetime
to have been one of Margrit’s mentees. I am deeply grateful to be part of her legacy, and I strive to carry
forward
what she modeled and taught me—including her authentic kindness, generosity, clarity of thought, and
perseverance—with the generations to come.