We spend a lot of time talking about the technical side of engineering and science, and rightfully so. But I sometimes think we underestimate the human side of what we do. The way we interact with students, young engineers, and early-career scientists can shape their lives and careers in ways that neither they nor we may ever realize. I want to share a personal story about this.
About 17 years ago, when I was starting my master's degree at the University of Tehran, I spent a lot of time reading journal papers, trying to figure out what interested me and what direction I wanted to take in research. One day, I came across a fascinating paper from Dr. Heidi Nepf's lab at MIT about the hydraulics of submerged vegetated channels. I was amazed by the physics of it all. And to be completely honest, most of the concepts and equations went right over my head! :) But I was curious. Really curious. So I decided to email Heidi.
I wrote a long email, probably in pretty broken English, filled with questions, requests, and things I didn't understand. Looking back, I'm sure some of my questions were very basic. A few days later, I received a reply. Heidi had taken the time to respond to my questions, patiently share additional resources, and encourage me to keep reading and exploring.
I still remember how that email made me feel. Here I was, a young graduate student in Tehran, thousands of miles away from MIT, and a world-renowned researcher had taken the time to help me simply because I was curious and wanted to learn. It meant a lot to me.
Years later, I became a faculty member myself. And suddenly, that email meant even more. I began to understand how busy professors can be, how many emails and competing priorities fill their days, and how easy it would have been for Heidi to simply move on to the next email. But she didn't. And without knowing it, she had taught me something beyond hydraulics.
She had shown me the kind of professor, mentor, and person I wanted to be.
Fast forward about 17 years. I learned that Heidi was coming to Minneapolis to give a presentation. There was no way I was going to miss it! I attended her presentation and finally had the opportunity to meet her in person. I told her about that email from 17 years ago. I told her how much her kindness had meant to a young student in Tehran.
I also shared a funny coincidence: Years after our email exchange, I became a visiting assistant professor at Bucknell University, the same university where she had earned her undergraduate degree back in the 1980s. What a small world!
But most importantly, I got to tell her something she probably never knew: her kindness had shaped a part of my life, my career, and the way I try to treat others. And we took a photo together. That moment has earned a special place among my favorite memories.
I keep thinking about how easy it would have been for Heidi to ignore that long email from a student with limited knowledge of hydrodynamics and imperfect English. She probably doesn't remember writing that email. For her, it might have been just another ordinary day. But for me, it was anything but ordinary.
That's really the point of sharing this story. We don't always know the impact we have on others. Sometimes it's a thoughtful response to an email. Sometimes it's a few words of encouragement, a little patience, or simply taking someone seriously when they're still trying to find their way. Those moments may seem small to us, but they can stay with someone for a lifetime.
I believe kindness is something worth standing up for, even when it isn't the easiest or most convenient choice. I remember a time in my academic career when I advocated for university leadership to reach out personally to students affected by a crisis. I had hoped it would be a simple gesture, but the conversations turned out to be more difficult than I expected. It reminded me how easily the human side of things can get lost among other priorities. And perhaps that's one of the most valuable lessons I learned from Heidi's email all those years ago.
Kindness isn't always a grand gesture. Sometimes it's simply choosing to see the person on the other side.
Thank you, Heidi, and thank you to everyone who chooses to be kind, patient, and encouraging, especially when they don't have to. You may be making a bigger difference than you realize.
Mohsen :)