Whenever I think of sushi, I think of Dr. P’s laboratory at the NYU Psychiatric Research Center…because sushi made me go crazy! Haha, bad joke. No, but really, I am affiliated to the center on account of the fact that I conducted research here during high school. I was there for a year and I helped out on the topic of cognitive reading although I remember little to nothing of it. This is probably because most of the stuff went way over my head, but the other part of it was that I was so transfixed on taking in the sophisticated environment around me.
At 16 I was still the sheltered daughter of two Indian immigrants and I had much to learn in the ways of the world of downtown NYC. I took the subway to the center by myself, a privilege that I cherished because in Queens I was driven everywhere. But, just to be sure my mom always accompanied me on my way back home. My walk to the building was colored with stockbrokers yelling into their phones, yogis rushing to their classes, eleven year olds with skateboards, organic food restaurants, and college students. Everyone had somewhere really important to be and after a while I took to coping that attitude. With my headphones in my ears and pretending to look straight ahead of me I rushed over to the lab where I was met by occupants that gave me a funny feeling that I was in cahoots in working on a secret government project.
The view from within Dr. P’s laboratory looked like something out of a Sci-Fi movie where an odd assortment of the brightest minds in the world was brought together to advance the field of cognitive reading. There was a 5 year old and a 7 year old, a smattering of 30-something year old scientists, all with heavy accents, at least two other high school-aged students, and then there was Dr. P with his jolly belly and suspenders. Other than the cosmetic quality of the scene, the fact that everything that came out of these people’s mouths was incredibly intelligent made it that much more unreal. But, strangest of all was that we all came together at this large table to discuss our findings and eat sushi, like a family. Dr. P would be propped up at the head of the table like the man of the house with a bib around his chin, someone would reach over and ruffle up the 5 year old child’s hair, and one of the highschool-aged girls or else one of the 30-something year old scientists would walk around pouring water into everyone’s Dixie cups.
The naïve girl that I was took all of this in with large eyes, rationalizing that this experience was just another aspect of the sophisticated Downtown NYC culture of which I was still unaware. In retrospect, I still think that there was something odd about that environment. Dr. P’s lab WAS an assortment of oddly-arranged people, but no secret government projects here, just a bunch of people looking for some food and stimulating conversation around 5pm on a Tuesday. By virtue of their age and whatever activity they took up at the meeting they cumulatively composed a traditional family.
As much as “the family” freaked me out, at times I forgot myself as the quiet and absorbent observer and let them include me in their activities. Thanks to moments such as this I tried sushi for the first time in my life. While I didn’t take to it immediately I learned to appreciate the California Roll and I tried eel for the first and only time in my life. Today sushi is one of my favorite foods and I guess I have “the family” to thank for that.
