We were lucky to catch up with Aidyl Gonzalez-Serricchio recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Aidyl thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Was there a moment in your career that meaningfully altered your trajectory? If so, we’d love to hear the backstory.

In 2003, I was doing incredible work on my postdoctoral journey at the Institute of Genetic Medicine at USC; I became involved in a groundbreaking study of myotonic dystrophy in which nematodes played the most significant role.

At 28, balancing my scientific career with the joys of motherhood, I was ready to start a new chapter, set up my lab, and make a significant contribution to the scientific community. However, fate had other plans for me.

In what seemed like an instant, the ground shifted beneath me, the accident I call “The Great Fall of 140ft.” It was a profound time that tested my physical resilience and unwavering determination to pursue my dreams against all odds.

The journey to recovery was hard; it took two years to regain normal walking and ten years to rebuild my physical strength and speed, but amid grief and doubt, I refused to give up in despair. Instead, I used my suffering to inspire my resilience, and I emerged from the suffering with renewed purpose and an unwavering belief in my abilities.

It was a defining moment that not only altered my career trajectory but also imbued it with a newfound sense of purpose and resilience. I fought and worked harder by balancing motherhood with my research and being an educator in secondary education while strengthening my body and mind. My ultimate goal is to reach for the stars and continue my research in the ISS. I carry the unwavering conviction that no obstacle is insurmountable and that anything is possible with grit, determination, and steadfast faith in oneself.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

A seven years old Puerto Rican living in the South Bronx, New York, woke up to a cockroach laying eggs below her bedroom window. She jumped down from the bunk bed to determine if it was feces, larvae, or something else. She couldn’t tell what it was, so she covered it with my empty shoebox. She checked on the “white things” about 3 to 4 times daily. After a few weeks, she was in awe that several small cockroaches were hatching out from one white thing (i.e., an egg case). Even more impressive was that the freshly hatched cockroaches were white, then darkened brown within minutes. Her love and fight for STEAM access began. She asked my teachers how and why such a life development phenomenon occurred, but their responses were, “It is not for you to know, and who do you think you are going to be, a scientist?” She remembers teachers stating that a scientist is a “college-educated man” making discoveries, not individuals like you.
That little girl knew that was not true because of Lt. Nyota Uhura (aka Nichelle Nichols) in Star Trek. Lt. Nyota Uhura looked like her Tia Isabella, who speaks different languages, is an astronaut, a scientist, and has remarkable fighting skills. From reading Stan Lee Spiderman and Xmen comics, she knew college is critical and being different is a “superpower.” She also knew people like her could go to college because, in The Cosby Show, Tony Orlando said he went to college as a proud Puerto Rican. Finally, she remembered watching Newton’s Apple on PBS, featuring the incredible geneticist Dr. Ed Lewis and his team, including female scientists. Fun fact: Several years later, she met Nobel Prize winner Dr. Ed Lewis, and he became one of her incredible mentors as a doctoral student at CalTech.
The story above is part of my scientific and educator journey. I would like to know where I would be now if I had that representation of my possibilities. It is vital to include multiculturalism and access in STEAM education to fully prepare and equip our future world changers in STEAM careers to reach above our stars. Our students should see themselves within each subject, relate to the topic, and know their endless possibilities. Dr. Mae Jemison brilliantly states, “We see science as something very elite, which only a few people can learn. That’s not true. You have to start early and give kids a foundation. Kids live up, or down, to expectations.”

Putting training and knowledge aside, what else do you think really matters in terms of succeeding in your field?

Growing up in the South Bronx helped me navigate professional spaces that are traditionally culturally one demographic. I’ve understood that success extends far beyond mere training and knowledge. Growing up in an environment where basic survival and advancement often depended on street smarts and resourcefulness, I learned invaluable lessons that have proven indispensable.

One of the most crucial skills I acquired was the art of observation and strategy. Being acutely aware of my surroundings became second nature in a neighborhood where danger was literally everywhere. I learned to discern between safe spaces and potential threats, honing my instincts to navigate precarious situations with finesse and grace. This keen sense of observation has served me well in my professional endeavors, allowing me to assess risks confidently, identify opportunities when I advocate for myself, and make informed decisions.

My upbringing instilled in me a deep appreciation for the value of healthy food, relationships, and community. Spending sweltering summers with family and friends, savoring moments of peace amidst the chaos of urban life, taught me the importance of cherishing human connections and learning how to grow my food from my grandparents and parents because we lived in a food desert. These bonds have not only enriched my personal life but have also been instrumental in fostering collaboration and support within my professional network.

One of the most unconventional skills is the ability to improvise and adapt to adversity. Whether it was scaling abandoned buildings to procure essential supplies or learning how to pick locks and hot-wire cars from my father, I developed a knack for finding creative solutions to unforeseen challenges. This resourcefulness has proven invaluable in my career, enabling me to navigate complex problems with agility and resilience.

The skills I perfected growing up in the South Bronx have equipped me with a unique toolkit for my personal and professional success. From honing my powers of growing food to observing and valuing the strength of community and embracing adaptability in the face of adversity, these lessons did make me.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Inherited from my grandmother through my mother, the lesson of smallness weighed heavily on me. As a Puerto Rican woman, societal norms dictated that success meant assimilation, quiet submission, and accepting one’s place. But I challenged these beliefs, breaking free from generational trauma to reclaim my voice and define success on my own terms. Today, I stand empowered, honoring the resilience of my ancestors while paving the way for future generations to embrace their authenticity unapologetically.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://draidylgonzalez.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/real_dr.g/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aidyl.gonzalez/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/aidyl-gonzalez-serricchio/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/real_dr_g
• Other: https://orcid.org/0009-0007-7291-9613

Image Credits
Mara Leite Photography Fred Serricchio