Ophthalmologist Puts Mind and Hand to Art

Carmel Mercado ’09 describes herself as “existing at the intersection of health and art.” A Seattle-based pediatric ophthalmologist, Mercado is also a visual artist whose whimsical illustrations and colorful animal characters can be found in places as varied as a children’s hospital and a microbrewery.

Sara Shay | MIT Technology Review
July 26, 2025

Carmel Mercado ’09 describes herself as “existing at the intersection of health and art.” A Seattle-based pediatric ophthalmologist, Mercado is also a visual artist whose whimsical illustrations and colorful animal characters can be found in places as varied as a children’s hospital and a microbrewery.

Looking back, Mercado says that even as a premed biology major at MIT she was pursuing both paths. She took a First-Year Advising Seminar in the arts and found a mentor in Michèle Oshima, then director of student and artist-in-residence programs at MIT’s Office of the Arts, who encouraged her to apply for the MIT Arts Scholars program. That gave her the opportunity to showcase her work in a gallery at MIT.

Mercado’s next stop was medical school at Johns Hopkins (she graduated in 2014). There, too, she gravitated toward opportunities for artistic expression, such as designing T-shirts and posters for an event welcoming prospective students. “That kind of helped me get through some darker days when I was really tired or really overwhelmed by the medical part of it,” she says.

She chose ophthalmology as her specialty in part because she found the eye itself visually appealing. “The first time I saw the fundus, the retina, the back of the eye, it was so beautiful to me,” she says. “Just looking at the optic nerve, the colors, the placement, I thought about how amazing it is that we can get such beautiful and complex imagery of our world from what looks to most people like a blob of jelly.”

Initially, Mercado assumed art would take a backseat to her medical career, but time in Japan—including a MISTI summer internship in Kobe—led her to realize she had other options. She connected with a mentor, Kenji Watanabe, while studying the history of medicine at Keio University in Tokyo during medical school. Watanabe “showed me a very different lifestyle,” she says: He didn’t limit his work to academia. “He had this really cool niche where he could do all this policy work. He was traveling to different countries to meet up with other physicians. It was eye-opening,” Mercado says. “He made me realize you can shape your career and your life to be able to pursue your passions. You shouldn’t just accept the traditional way. Being exposed to that early on probably gave me the courage to do what I’m doing now.”

As a practicing ophthalmologist, she began to involve art in her work by designing patient materials featuring characters she created. Colleagues noticed and offered her commissions. About four years ago, Mercado decided to pursue art full-time. The problem: She wasn’t sure how to promote herself. “I just about tried everything to see what would stick,” she says. She started an Etsy page and social media accounts, and she applied to art shows, art walks, and galleries. After about a year, her efforts paid off, and she started to get invitations for projects.

She has since exhibited her work in juried shows and galleries in the Boston, Orlando, and Seattle areas and has received commissions for public art from several cities in Washington. She even has a piece in the permanent gallery at Japan’s Sobana Museum.

Despite her artistic success, Mercado says she eventually missed the problem-solving and patient care involved in clinical work. She started tinkering with her schedule and settled on a roughly 60-40 split in favor of medicine.

In addition to seeing patients, she continues to pursue art projects, working mostly with acrylics and mixed media on canvas and with digital illustration; her style reflects her experiences with children and her observations of wildlife and folk art around the world, especially in Japan.

“I’ve found a space where I’m happy,” she says, “and where it feels a little bit more balanced for me.”

This story also appears in the July/August issue of MIT Alumni News magazine, published by MIT Technology Review

A shining light in the lab

Sriram “Sri” Srikant was known for insightful questions and irrepressible love of the pursuit of knowledge.

Lillian Eden | Department of Biology
July 24, 2025

Sriram “Sri” Srikant, a postdoctoral Scholar in the Laub Lab in the Department of Biology at MIT, succumbed to cancer in March. He was 35.

Srikant received a degree in Chemical Engineering with a minor in chemistry from the Indian Institute of Technology Madras in 2011, and a PhD in Molecular and Cellular Biology from Harvard University in 2019. Among many accomplishments, Srikant was awarded an HHMI International Student Research Fellowship and a Peralta Prize for an outstanding dissertation proposal, both in 2013.

Srikant is described by mentors and colleagues alike as brilliant — a remarkable researcher who was both knowledgeable and approachable and whose enthusiasm was a bright beacon to all who had the chance to know him.

“There’s a blues line that I love, ‘Let the Midnight Special shine the ever lovin’ light on me,’” says Harvard College Professor Andrew Murray, one of Srikant’s thesis advisors. “For me, Sri was that Midnight Special, and we were lucky to have his ever lovin’ light shine on us.”

Academics are often equally motivated by a mix of a love of the work and a desire to succeed, whether it be by publications, grants, or high-impact findings. According to colleagues, however, Srikant’s passion came entirely from his need to know more.

“He told me once that ‘A life without science wouldn’t be worth living,’” said Dia Ghose, PhD ’24, a graduate student in the Laub Lab. “He wanted to move his career forward so he could keep doing science, but he didn’t care about impressing people. He just loved science and wanted to keep doing it.”

In the face of a terminal diagnosis, Srikant kept coming into the lab until his illness made it impossible. His marks on Building 68, however, remain — people are and will continue using the strains he built, the technique he developed, and the expertise he was so generous in sharing.

“There’s so many reminders of him, which is how it should be, because he contributed so much,” Ghose says. “He’s living on in the lab, and we’re still using everything that he gave us every day.”

The generosity of Sri Standard Time

As a graduate student at Harvard, Srikant pursued his thesis work in a joint PhD in the labs of both Murray and Professor of Molecular and Cellular Biology Rachelle Gaudet.

“The experiments in Rachelle’s lab failed utterly, and those in mine failed miserably, but gave enough glimmers of possibility for him to make a series of technical innovations to turn something that looked hopeless into a very nice paper,” recalls Murray. “There was no part of science he wasn’t curious about, there was nothing he wouldn’t discuss, and there was no technical challenge he wouldn’t take on.”

In the Laub Lab, Srikant developed an experimental evolution approach to studying phage, the viruses that infect bacteria. Srikant set up an experimental pipeline to explore how phages can evolve to overcome anti-phage defense systems in bacteria. He was also investigating the broader mechanisms of how phage genomes evolve, and the types of mutations they acquire. In the case of recombination between co-infecting phages, he was developing a new methodology to study exactly how recombination between different phages occurs.

The experimental evolution approach swept through not just the lab at MIT but across the world, and Srikant assisted other labs in implementing his process.

“He was this incredibly selfless, generous guy who was always willing to help out other people,” says Michael Laub, Salvador E. Luria Professor and HHMI Investigator. “He also had this incredible encyclopedic knowledge and memory about all aspects of phages, and he was constantly drawing on that to help people with their projects.”

Srikant was so generous with his time and expertise that he was usually on “SST” or “Sri standard time”—which was, often, running late. He would declare he was heading out or needed to start experiments, and then engage in hours-long conversations with lab mates on topics ranging from physics to visa issues.

Srikant’s hobbies included reading papers from other fields — he was, simply put, interested in the pursuit of knowledge. If he wasn’t an expert on some topic, he could spend hours studying it, just in case he could be helpful. After ChatGPT was released, lab mates joked that ChatGP-Sri was more knowledgeable, had more reliable answers, and was usually available 24/7, says Tong Zhang, PhD ’24, another graduate student in the Laub Lab.

Srikant’s sole area of ignorance was seemingly was pop culture. He didn’t know who Taylor Swift was, and only knew of Lady Gaga from the one time she wore a meat dress more than a decade ago—which, Ghose noted, was a rather niche reference.

Always curious, never quiet

Murray recalls an incident when he was flying from Boston to San Francisco with Srikant, discussing science every minute of the flight. Srikant was so passionate about the subject that his neighbor felt the need to shush him repeatedly, which Srikant took in stride, saying, with a smile, “People have been telling me to be quieter my entire life, and they’re probably right!”

From his first year at Harvard to his final days in the Laub Lab, Srikant was known for his boundless curiosity. Murray says that it’s a rare thing, after a department seminar, for students to ask questions, but Srikant would always put his hand up. That habit continued through graduate school and at science and lab meetings during his too-brief time at MIT.

“It was remarkable,” Laub says. “After any talk, he always had the most probing, incisive, and really helpful questions, across very broad fields.”

Every time he asked a question, whether it was in class during his time at Harvard or at the Building 68 research retreat on the cape, Srikant would begin with, “One of the things I’m curious about.” Ghose says the phrase became something akin to a meme in the lab, and Srikant even commemorated the colloquialism with a bracelet that read ‘I’m curious.’

“For a person that brilliant and knowledgeable, Sri was so special. His impact on me and others will last forever,” Zhang says. “I have always been, and I will continue, looking up to him, honoring his passion for science, his brilliance as a scientist, and his kindness and generosity as a great friend.”

Student Spotlight: Alexa Mallar ’27

Computer science and molecular biology major Alexa Mallar ’27 has a passion for the visual, pursuing her love of art while also working as an undergraduate researcher in the Cheeseman Lab.

Mark Sullivan | Spectrum
June 4, 2025

“Visual art has been a passion and a core part of my identity since before attending MIT,” says Alexa Mallar ’27, a computer science and molecular biology major from Miami who is a recipient of the Norman L. Greenman (1944) Memorial Scholarship.

As an undergraduate researcher in the lab of Iain Cheeseman, MIT professor of biology and member of the Whitehead Institute, she helps develop computational tools for biological data analysis. Outside the lab, Mallar pursues her love of art, creating detailed graphite pieces in a hyperrealistic-surrealist style and experimenting with various media, including color pencil, charcoal, and multimedia sculpture, sharing her work on Instagram. Expanding her creative interests, she has explored 3-D printing through MIT MakerLodge, has taken 21T.101 Intro to Acting, and is taking 21W.756 Reading and Writing poetry in spring 2025. “Through visual and performing arts and creative writing, I continue to find new ways to express my creativity and grow as an artist,” she says.

What inspires you about creating art?

It’s a multitude of things. It’s a technical fascination with capturing details on a piece of paper and trying really hard to make it look like a photograph. There’s the enjoyment of the technical aspects of the task. There’s also an intellectual satisfaction that comes with creating art.  I like incorporating surrealism into my work often because it lends itself to creating more visual meaning than a purely realistic piece would; there are several artists I follow and try to incorporate aspects of their work into mine, trying different things. There’s the experimental value of trying different media and artistic styles. I love exploring. I love expressing new ideas. Art is really a great way to do it.

Is there a connection between what you do as a scientist and as an artist?

The nature of my art is very visual, and I think about what I do in computer science or in research now in a very visual way. I map a diagram in my head of input and output. Anything I do is inherently visualized.

Sometimes the connection goes the other way—my interest in math and science bleeds into my art. Designing counterweights to balance sculptures or geometrically mapping out perspective and proportions are a few examples. I also love sneaking in little “easter eggs.” A few years ago, I created a piece featuring a woman with a third eye and a tree-branch crown, where the branching levels followed the Fibonacci sequence.

What is the story behind the mermaid drawings on your Instagram page?

“There’s an event every May called MerMay. Artists on Instagram will do successive drawings of different mermaids based on prompts. I wanted to join in, so I designed my own mermaid. I just started by imagining her face, and it evolved into her holding an orb I called the Eye of the Sea. It was really fun.”

After college, will you be pursuing both science and art?

“That’s a good question. I kind of have a 30-degree angle I’m heading in, not a specific path. I know that I will keep drawing in my free time, and the creative thinking and visualization skills will bleed into any other part of my work that I do, whether that be in computer science or research. Maybe designing a front end is where my creative spirit will contribute to the computer science work that I do.

“I plan to work for Amazon [in summer 2025], having received a return offer after working there last summer. I’m getting a sense of the different environments I could go to. If I can find a way to combine [art and career] I will. I’ll find a way to do as many things as I can that interest me.”

How has your MIT experience helped you on your path?

“It has been an amazing resource. MIT offers so many different classes and interdisciplinary opportunities. I was able to explore entrepreneurship through the Martin Trust Center at MIT, enrolling in the Undergraduate Engineering Entrepreneurship Certificate program. That’s one avenue I wouldn’t have been able to explore otherwise without MIT. Acting is not something I would have even tried before having the opportunity to do it at MIT. I’m rediscovering my love for creative writing through classes at MIT, and I’m really enjoying it. If I hadn’t been able to fit a poetry workshop into my class schedule, I probably wouldn’t be writing nearly as much this semester. I’m really glad I have that opportunity.

“MIT is in an amazing spot for someone in my specific major, with the huge presence of biotech in Cambridge. This is an optimal place for both computer science and biological research. We have the Whitehead Institute, Pfizer, Moderna, all within walking distance of campus. There’s a lot to explore, an intersection of interests, and I really appreciate that is available to me at MIT.”

Student spotlight: Aria Eppinger ’24

The multitalented member of the varsity swim team graduated with her undergraduate degree in computer science and molecular biology in 2024 and will complete her MEng this month.

Jane Halpern | Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science
May 9, 2025

This interview is part of a series of short interviews from the MIT Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, called Student Spotlights. Each spotlight features a student answering their choice of questions about themselves and life at MIT. Today’s interviewee, Aria Eppinger ’24, graduated with her undergraduate degree in Course 6-7 (Computer Science and Molecular Biology) last spring. This spring, she will complete her MEng in 6-7. Her thesis, supervised by Ford Professor of Engineering Doug Lauffenburger in the Department of Biological Engineering, investigates the biological underpinnings of adverse pregnancy outcomes, including preterm birth and preeclampsia, by applying polytope-fitting algorithms.

Q: Tell us about one teacher from your past who had an influence on the person you’ve become.

A: There are many teachers who had a large impact on my trajectory. I would first like to thank my elementary and middle school teachers for imbuing in me a love of learning. I would also like to thank my high school teachers for not only teaching me the foundations of writing strong arguments, programming, and designing experiments, but also instilling in me the importance of being a balanced person. It can be tempting to be ruled by studies or work, especially when learning and working are so fun. My high school teachers encouraged me to pursue my hobbies, make memories with friends, and spend time with family. As life continues to be hectic, I’m so grateful for this lesson (even if I’m still working on mastering it).

Q: Describe one conversation that changed the trajectory of your life.

A: A number of years ago, I had the opportunity to chat with Warren Buffett. I was nervous at first, but soon put to ease by his descriptions of his favorite foods — hamburgers, French fries, and ice cream — and his hitchhiking stories. His kindness impressed and inspired me, which is something I carry with me and aim to emulate all these years later.

Q: Do you have any pets?

A: I have one dog who lives at home with my parents. Dodger, named after “Artful Dodger” in Oliver Twist, is as mischievous as beagles tend to be. We adopted him from a rescue shelter when I was in elementary school.

Q: Are you a re-reader or a re-watcher — and if so, what are your comfort books, shows, or movies?

A: I don’t re-read many books or re-watch many movies, but I never tire of Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.” I bought myself an ornately bound copy when I was interning in New York City last summer. Austen’s other novels, especially “Sense and Sensibility,” “Persuasion,” and “Emma,” are also favorites, and I’ve seen a fair number of their movie and miniseries adaptations. My favorite adaptation is the 1995 BBC production of “Pride and Prejudice” because of the cohesion with the original book and the casting of the leads, as well as the touches and plot derivations added by the producer and director to bring the work to modern audiences. The adaptation is quite long, but I have fond memories of re-watching it with some fellow Austinites at MIT.

Q: If you had to teach a really in-depth class about one niche topic, what would you pick?

A: There are two types of people in the world: those who eat to live, and those who live to eat. As one of the latter, I would have to teach some sort of in-depth class on food. Perhaps I would teach the science behind baking chocolate cake, or churning the perfect ice cream. Or maybe I would teach the biochemistry of digesting. In any case, I would have to have lots of hands-on demos and reserve plenty for taste-testing!

Q: What was the last thing you changed your mind about?

A: Brisket! I never was a big fan of brisket until I went to a Texas BBQ restaurant near campus, The Smoke Shop BBQ. Growing up, I had never had true BBQ, so I was quite skeptical. However, I enjoyed not only the brisket but also the other dishes. The Brussels sprouts with caramelized onions is probably my favorite dish, but it feels like a crime to say that about a BBQ place!

Q: What are you looking forward to about life after graduation? What do you think you’ll miss about MIT?

A: I’m looking forward to new adventures after graduation, including working in New York City and traveling to new places. I cross-registered to take Intensive Italian at Harvard this semester and am planning a trip to Italy to practice my Italian, see the historic sites, visit the Vatican, and taste the food. Non vedo l’ora di viaggiare all’Italia! [I can’t wait to travel to Italy!]

While I’m excited for what lies ahead, I will miss MIT. What a joy it is to spend most of the day learning information from a fire hose, taking a class on a foreign topic because the course catalog description looked fun, talking to people whose viewpoint is very similar or very different from my own, and making friends that will last a lifetime.

Staff Spotlight: Lighting up biology’s basement lab

Senior Technical Instructor Vanessa Cheung ’02 brings the energy, experience, and excitement needed to educate students in the biology teaching lab.

Samantha Edelen | Department of Biology
April 29, 2025

For more than 30 years, Course 7 (Biology) students have descended to the expansive, windowless basement of Building 68 to learn practical skills that are the centerpiece of undergraduate biology education at the Institute. The lines of benches and cabinets of supplies that make up the underground MIT Biology Teaching Lab could easily feel dark and isolated.

In the corner of this room, however, sits Senior Technical Instructor Vanessa Cheung ’02, who manages to make the space seem sunny and communal.

“We joke that we could rig up a system of mirrors to get just enough daylight to bounce down from the stairwell,” Cheung says with a laugh. “It is a basement, but I am very lucky to have this teaching lab space. It is huge and has everything we need.”

This optimism and gratitude fostered by Cheung is critical, as MIT undergrad students enrolled in classes 7.002 (Fundamentals of Experimental Molecular Biology) and 7.003 (Applied Molecular Biology Laboratory) spend four-hour blocks in the lab each week, learning the foundations of laboratory technique and theory for biological research from Cheung and her colleagues.

Running toward science education

Cheung’s love for biology can be traced back to her high school cross country and track coach, who also served as her second-year biology teacher. The sport and the fundamental biological processes she was learning about in the classroom were, in fact, closely intertwined.

“He told us about how things like ATP [adenosine triphosphate] and the energy cycle would affect our running,” she says. “Being able to see that connection really helped my interest in the subject.”

That inspiration carried her through a move from her hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to pursue an undergraduate degree at MIT, and through her thesis work to earn a PhD in genetics at Harvard Medical School. She didn’t leave running behind either: To this day, she can often be found on the Charles River Esplanade, training for her next marathon.

She discovered her love of teaching during her PhD program. She enjoyed guiding students so much that she spent an extra semester as a teaching assistant, outside of the one required for her program.

“I love research, but I also really love telling people about research,” Cheung says.

Cheung herself describes lab instruction as the “best of both worlds,” enabling her to pursue her love of teaching while spending every day at the bench, doing experiments. She emphasizes for students the importance of being able not just to do the hands-on technical lab work, but also to understand the theory behind it.

“The students can tend to get hung up on the physical doing of things — they are really concerned when their experiments don’t work,” she says. “We focus on teaching students how to think about being in a lab — how to design an experiment and how to analyze the data.”

Although her talent for teaching and passion for science led her to the role, Cheung doesn’t hesitate to identify the students as her favorite part of the job.

“It sounds cheesy, but they really do keep the job very exciting,” she says.

Using mind and hand in the lab

Cheung is the type of person who lights up when describing how much she “loves working with yeast.”

“I always tell the students that maybe no one cares about yeast except me and like three other people in the world, but it is a model organism that we can use to apply what we learn to humans,” Cheung explains.

Though mastering basic lab skills can make hands-on laboratory courses feel “a bit cookbook,” Cheung is able to get the students excited with her enthusiasm and clever curriculum design.

“The students like things where they can get their own unique results, and things where they have a little bit of freedom to design their own experiments,” she says. So, the lab curriculum incorporates opportunities for students to do things like identify their own unique yeast mutants and design their own questions to test in a chemical engineering module.

Part of what makes theory as critical as technique is that new tools and discoveries are made frequently in biology, especially at MIT. For example, there has been a shift from a focus on RNAi to CRISPR as a popular lab technique in recent years, and Cheung muses that CRISPR itself may be overshadowed within only a few more years — keeping students learning at the cutting edge of biology is always on Cheung’s mind.

“Vanessa is the heart, soul, and mind of the biology lab courses here at MIT, embodying ‘mens et manus’ [‘mind and hand’],” says technical lab instructor and Biology Teaching Lab Manager Anthony Fuccione.

Support for all students

Cheung’s ability to mentor and guide students earned her a School of Science Dean’s Education and Advising Award in 2012, but her focus isn’t solely on MIT undergraduate students.

In fact, according to Cheung, the earlier students can be exposed to science, the better. In addition to her regular duties, Cheung also designs curriculum and teaches in the LEAH Knox Scholars Program. The two-year program provides lab experience and mentorship for low-income Boston- and Cambridge-area high school students.

Paloma Sanchez-Jauregui, outreach programs coordinator who works with Cheung on the program, says Cheung has a standout “growth mindset” that students really appreciate.

“Vanessa teaches students that challenges — like unexpected PCR results — are part of the learning process,” Sanchez-Jauregui says. “Students feel comfortable approaching her for help troubleshooting experiments or exploring new topics.”

Cheung’s colleagues report that they admire not only her talents, but also her focus on supporting those around her. Technical Instructor and colleague Eric Chu says Cheung “offers a lot of help to me and others, including those outside of the department, but does not expect reciprocity.”

Professor of biology and co-director of the Department of Biology undergraduate program Adam Martin says he “rarely has to worry about what is going on in the teaching lab.” According to Martin, Cheung is ”flexible, hard-working, dedicated, and resilient, all while being kind and supportive to our students. She is a joy to work with.”

Staff Spotlight: Always looking to home

Mingmar Sherpa, a researcher in the Martin Lab in the Department of Biology, has remained connected to his home in Nepal at every step of his career.

Ekaterina Khalizeva | Department of Biology
April 29, 2025

For Mingmar Sherpa, a senior research support associate in the Martin Lab in the Department of Biology, community is more than just his colleagues in the lab, where he studies how mechanical forces affect cell division timing during embryogenesis. On his long and winding path to MIT, he never left behind the people he grew up among in Nepal. Sherpa has been dedicated, every step of his career — from rural Solukhumbu to Kathmandu to Alabama to Cambridge — to advancing education and health care among his people in any way he can.

Despite working more than 7,000 miles away from home, Mingmar Sherpa makes every effort to keep himself connected to his community in Nepal. Every month, for example, he sends home money to support a computer lab that he established in his hometown in rural Solukhumbu, the district of Nepal that houses Mount Everest — just $250 a month covers the costs of a teacher’s salary, electricity, internet, and a space to teach. In this lab, almost 250 students thus far have learned computer skills essential to working in today’s digitally driven world. In college, Sherpa also started The Bright Vision Foundation (The Bright Future), an organization to support health and education in Nepal, and during the pandemic raised funds to provide personal protective equipment (PPE) and health care services across his home country.

While Sherpa’s ambition to help his home can be traced back to his childhood, he didn’t have it all figured out from the start, and found inspiration at each step of his career.

“This mindset of giving back to the community, helping policymakers or establishing an organization to help people do science, helping the scientific community to find cures for diseases — all these ideas came to me along the way,” Sherpa says. “It is the journey that matters.”

A journey driven by hope and optimism

“Sherpa” is a reference to the ethnic group native to the mountainous regions of Nepal and Tibet, whose members are well-known for their mountaineering skills, which they use to guide and assist tourists who want to climb Mount Everest. Growing up in rural Solukhumbu, Sherpa was surrounded by people working in the tourism industry; few other occupations appeared feasible. There was just one hospital for the whole district, requiring locals to walk for days to get medical assistance.

The youngest of seven siblings, Sherpa went to an English-language middle school, which he had to walk for over an hour to get to. He excelled there, soon becoming the top student in his class and passing the national exam with distinction — success that allowed him to both dream of and accomplish a move to Kathmandu, the capital city of Nepal, to study in the best school in the country.

It was an overwhelming transition, surrounded as he was for the first time by people from a very different social class, privileged with far more technological resources. The gaps between this well-equipped community and the one he left back home became increasingly obvious and left a strong impression on Sherpa.

There, he started thinking about how to use his newly acquired access to education and technology to uplift his community at home. He was especially fascinated by questions surrounding biology and human health, and next set his sights on attending college in the United States.

“If I came to the U.S., I could learn skills which I could not learn in Nepal,” he says. “I could prepare myself to solve the problems that I want to solve.”

At the University of Alabama in Birmingham, Sherpa continued to deepen his passion for biological science and joined a research lab. Through that work, he discovered the joys of basic research and the diverse set of skills it fosters.

“I joined the lab to learn science, but to do science, you need other skills, like research communication,” he says. “I was learning unintentionally from being in a research position.”

When Covid-19 spread around the globe, Sherpa wanted to apply the expertise and resources he had gained to help his people address the crisis. It was then that he started The Bright Vision Foundation, an organization aiming to raise the standards of health care and education in underserved communities in Nepal. Through the foundation, he raised funds to distribute PPE, provide health care services, and set up the computer lab in his childhood home.

“Today’s world is all about technology and innovation, but here are good people in my community who don’t even know about computers,” he says.

With the help of his brother, who serves as the lab instructor, and his parents, who provide the space and support the lab, and Sherpa’s own fundraising, he aims to help youths from backgrounds similar to his own be better prepared for the technologically advanced, globalized world of today.

The MIT chapter

Now, at MIT, Sherpa speaks with deep appreciation of the opportunities that the university has opened up for him — the people he has been meeting here, and the skills he has been learning.

Professor of biology Adam C. Martin, Sherpa’s principal investigator, views making sure that international trainees like Mingmar are aware of the wide range of opportunities MIT offers — whether it be workshops, collaborations, networking and funding possibilities, or help with the pathway toward graduate school — as a key part of creating a supportive environment.

Understanding the additional burdens on international trainees gives Martin extra appreciation for Sherpa’s perseverance, motivation, and desire to share his culture with the lab, sharing Nepalese food and providing context for Nepalese customs.

Being at such a research-intensive institution as MIT has helped Sherpa further clarify his goals and his view of the paths he can take to achieve them. Since college, his three passions have been intertwined: leadership, research, and human health.

Sherpa will pursue a PhD in biomedical and biological sciences with a focus in cancer biology at Cornell University in the fall. In the longer term, he plans to focus on developing policy to improve public health.

Although Sherpa recognizes that Nepal is not the only place that might need his help, he has a sharp focus and an acute sense of what he is best positioned to do now. Sherpa is gearing up to organize a health camp in the spring to bring doctors to rural areas in Nepal, not only to provide care, but also to gather data on nutrition and health in different regions of the country.

“I cannot, in a day, or even a year, bring the living conditions of people in vulnerable communities up to a higher level, but I can slowly increase the living standard of people in less-developed communities, especially in Nepal,” he says. “There might be other parts of the world which are even more vulnerable than Nepal, but I haven’t explored them yet. But I know my community in Nepal, so I want to help improve people’s lives there.”

At the core of problem-solving

Stuart Levine ’97, director of MIT’s BioMicro Center, keeps departmental researchers at the forefront of systems biology.

Samantha Edelen | Department of Biology
March 19, 2025

As director of the MIT BioMicro Center (BMC), Stuart Levine ’97 wholeheartedly embraces the variety of challenges he tackles each day. One of over 50 core facilities providing shared resources across the Institute, the BMC supplies integrated high-throughput genomics, single-cell and spatial transcriptomic analysis, bioinformatics support, and data management to researchers across MIT.

“Every day is a different day,” Levine says, “there are always new problems, new challenges, and the technology is continuing to move at an incredible pace.” After more than 15 years in the role, Levine is grateful that the breadth of his work allows him to seek solutions for so many scientific problems.

By combining bioinformatics expertise with biotech relationships and a focus on maximizing the impact of the center’s work, Levine brings the broad range of skills required to match the diversity of questions asked by researchers in MIT’s Department of Biology.

Expansive expertise

Biology first appealed to Levine as an MIT undergraduate taking class 7.012 (Introduction to Biology), thanks to the charisma of instructors Professor Eric Lander and Amgen Professor Emerita Nancy Hopkins. After earning his PhD in biochemistry from Harvard University and Massachusetts General Hospital, Levine returned to MIT for postdoctoral work with Professor Richard Young, core member at the Whitehead Institute for Biomedical Research.

In the Young Lab, Levine found his calling as an informaticist and ultimately decided to stay at MIT. Here, his work has a wide-ranging impact: the BMC serves over 100 labs annually, from the the Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory and the departments of Brain and Cognitive Sciences; Earth, Atmospheric and Planetary Sciences; Chemical Engineering; Mechanical Engineering; and, of course, Biology.

“It’s a fun way to think about science,” Levine says, noting that he applies his knowledge and streamlines workflows across these many disciplines by “truly and deeply understanding the instrumentation complexities.”

This depth of understanding and experience allows Levine to lead what longtime colleague Professor Laurie Boyer describes as “a state-of-the-art core that has served so many faculty and provides key training opportunities for all.” He and his team work with cutting-edge, finely tuned scientific instruments that generate vast amounts of bioinformatics data, then use powerful computational tools to store, organize, and visualize the data collected, contributing to research on topics ranging from host-parasite interactions to proposed tools for NASA’s planetary protection policy.

Staying ahead of the curve

With a scientist directing the core, the BMC aims to enable researchers to “take the best advantage of systems biology methods,” says Levine. These methods use advanced research technologies to do things like prepare large sets of DNA and RNA for sequencing, read DNA and RNA sequences from single cells, and localize gene expression to specific tissues.

Levine presents a lightweight, clear rectangle about the width of a cell phone and the length of a VHS cassette.

“This is a flow cell that can do 20 human genomes to clinical significance in two days — 8 billion reads,” he says. “There are newer instruments with several times that capacity available as well.”

The vast majority of research labs do not need that kind of power, but the Institute, and its researchers as a whole, certainly do. Levine emphasizes that “the ROI [return on investment] for supporting shared resources is extremely high because whatever support we receive impacts not just one lab, but all of the labs we support. Keeping MIT’s shared resources at the bleeding edge of science is critical to our ability to make a difference in the world.”

To stay at the edge of research technology, Levine maintains company relationships, while his scientific understanding allows him to educate researchers on what is possible in the space of modern systems biology. Altogether, these attributes enable Levine to help his researcher clients “push the limits of what is achievable.”

The man behind the machines

Each core facility operates like a small business, offering specialized services to a diverse client base across academic and industry research, according to Amy Keating, Jay A. Stein (1968) Professor of Biology and head of the Department of Biology. She explains that “the PhD-level education and scientific and technological expertise of MIT’s core directors are critical to the success of life science research at MIT and beyond.”

While Levine clearly has the education and expertise, the success of the BMC “business” is also in part due to his tenacity and focus on results for the core’s users.

He was recognized by the Institute with the MIT Infinite Mile Award in 2015 and the MIT Excellence Award in 2017, for which one nominator wrote, “What makes Stuart’s leadership of the BMC truly invaluable to the MIT community is his unwavering dedication to producing high-quality data and his steadfast persistence in tackling any type of troubleshooting needed for a project. These attributes, fostered by Stuart, permeate the entire culture of the BMC.”

“He puts researchers and their research first, whether providing education, technical services, general tech support, or networking to collaborators outside of MIT,” says Noelani Kamelamela, lab manager of the BMC. “It’s all in service to users and their projects.”

Tucked into the far back corner of the BMC lab space, Levine’s office is a fitting symbol of his humility. While his guidance and knowledge sit at the center of what elevates the BMC beyond technical support, he himself sits away from the spotlight, resolutely supporting others to advance science.

“Stuart has always been the person, often behind the scenes, that pushes great science, ideas, and people forward,” Boyer says. “His knowledge and advice have truly allowed us to be at the leading edge in our work.”

Helping the immune system attack tumors

Stefani Spranger is working to discover why some cancers don’t respond to immunotherapy, in hopes of making them more vulnerable to it.

Anne Trafton | MIT News
February 26, 2025

In addition to patrolling the body for foreign invaders, the immune system also hunts down and destroys cells that have become cancerous or precancerous. However, some cancer cells end up evading this surveillance and growing into tumors.

Once established, tumor cells often send out immunosuppressive signals, which leads T cells to become “exhausted” and unable to attack the tumor. In recent years, some cancer immunotherapy drugs have shown great success in rejuvenating those T cells so they can begin attacking tumors again.

While this approach has proven effective against cancers such as melanoma, it doesn’t work as well for others, including lung and ovarian cancer. MIT Associate Professor Stefani Spranger is trying to figure out how those tumors are able to suppress immune responses, in hopes of finding new ways to galvanize T cells into attacking them.

“We really want to understand why our immune system fails to recognize cancer,” Spranger says. “And I’m most excited about the really hard-to-treat cancers because I think that’s where we can make the biggest leaps.”

Her work has led to a better understanding of the factors that control T-cell responses to tumors, and raised the possibility of improving those responses through vaccination or treatment with immune-stimulating molecules called cytokines.

“We’re working on understanding what exactly the problem is, and then collaborating with engineers to find a good solution,” she says.

Jumpstarting T cells

As a student in Germany, where students often have to choose their college major while still in high school, Spranger envisioned going into the pharmaceutical industry and chose to major in biology. At Ludwig Maximilian University in Munich, her course of study began with classical biology subjects such as botany and zoology, and she began to doubt her choice. But, once she began taking courses in cell biology and immunology, her interest was revived and she continued into a biology graduate program at the university.

During a paper discussion class early in her graduate school program, Spranger was assigned to a Science paper on a promising new immunotherapy treatment for melanoma. This strategy involves isolating tumor-infiltrating T-cells during surgery, growing them into large numbers, and then returning them to the patient. For more than 50 percent of those patients, the tumors were completely eliminated.

“To me, that changed the world,” Spranger recalls. “You can take the patient’s own immune system, not really do all that much to it, and then the cancer goes away.”

Spranger completed her PhD studies in a lab that worked on further developing that approach, known as adoptive T-cell transfer therapy. At that point, she still was leaning toward going into pharma, but after finishing her PhD in 2011, her husband, also a biologist, convinced her that they should both apply for postdoc positions in the United States.

They ended up at the University of Chicago, where Spranger worked in a lab that studies how the immune system responds to tumors. There, she discovered that while melanoma is usually very responsive to immunotherapy, there is a small fraction of melanoma patients whose T cells don’t respond to the therapy at all. That got her interested in trying to figure out why the immune system doesn’t always respond to cancer the way that it should, and in finding ways to jumpstart it.

During her postdoc, Spranger also discovered that she enjoyed mentoring students, which she hadn’t done as a graduate student in Germany. That experience drew her away from going into the pharmaceutical industry, in favor of a career in academia.

“I had my first mentoring teaching experience having an undergrad in the lab, and seeing that person grow as a scientist, from barely asking questions to running full experiments and coming up with hypotheses, changed how I approached science and my view of what academia should be for,” she says.

Modeling the immune system

When applying for faculty jobs, Spranger was drawn to MIT by the collaborative environment of MIT and its Koch Institute for Integrative Cancer Research, which offered the chance to collaborate with a large community of engineers who work in the field of immunology.

“That community is so vibrant, and it’s amazing to be a part of it,” she says.

Building on the research she had done as a postdoc, Spranger wanted to explore why some tumors respond well to immunotherapy, while others do not. For many of her early studies, she used a mouse model of non-small-cell lung cancer. In human patients, the majority of these tumors do not respond well to immunotherapy.

“We build model systems that resemble each of the different subsets of non-responsive non-small cell lung cancer, and we’re trying to really drill down to the mechanism of why the immune system is not appropriately responding,” she says.

As part of that work, she has investigated why the immune system behaves differently in different types of tissue. While immunotherapy drugs called checkpoint inhibitors can stimulate a strong T-cell response in the skin, they don’t do nearly as much in the lung. However, Spranger has shown that T cell responses in the lung can be improved when immune molecules called cytokines are also given along with the checkpoint inhibitor.

Those cytokines work, in part, by activating dendritic cells — a class of immune cells that help to initiate immune responses, including activation of T cells.

“Dendritic cells are the conductor for the orchestra of all the T cells, although they’re a very sparse cell population,” Spranger says. “They can communicate which type of danger they sense from stressed cells and then instruct the T cells on what they have to do and where they have to go.”

Spranger’s lab is now beginning to study other types of tumors that don’t respond at all to immunotherapy, including ovarian cancer and glioblastoma. Both the brain and the peritoneal cavity appear to suppress T-cell responses to tumors, and Spranger hopes to figure out how to overcome that immunosuppression.

“We’re specifically focusing on ovarian cancer and glioblastoma, because nothing’s working right now for those cancers,” she says. “We want to understand what we have to do in those sites to induce a really good anti-tumor immune response.”

Professor Anthony Sinskey, biologist, inventor, entrepreneur, and Center for Biomedical Innovation co-founder, dies at 84

Colleagues remember the longtime MIT professor as a supportive, energetic collaborator who seemed to know everyone at the Institute.

Zach Winn | MIT News
February 20, 2025

Longtime MIT Professor Anthony “Tony” Sinskey ScD ’67, who was also the co-founder and faculty director of the Center for Biomedical Innovation (CBI), passed away on Feb. 12 at his home in New Hampshire. He was 84.

Deeply engaged with MIT, Sinskey left his mark on the Institute as much through the relationships he built as the research he conducted. Colleagues say that throughout his decades on the faculty, Sinskey’s door was always open.

“He was incredibly generous in so many ways,” says Graham Walker, an American Cancer Society Professor at MIT. “He was so willing to support people, and he did it out of sheer love and commitment. If you could just watch Tony in action, there was so much that was charming about the way he lived. I’ve said for years that after they made Tony, they broke the mold. He was truly one of a kind.”

Sinskey’s lab at MIT explored methods for metabolic engineering and the production of biomolecules. Over the course of his research career, he published more than 350 papers in leading peer-reviewed journals for biology, metabolic engineering, and biopolymer engineering, and filed more than 50 patents. Well-known in the biopharmaceutical industry, Sinskey contributed to the founding of multiple companies, including Metabolix, Tepha, Merrimack Pharmaceuticals, and Genzyme Corporation. Sinskey’s work with CBI also led to impactful research papers, manufacturing initiatives, and educational content since its founding in 2005.

Across all of his work, Sinskey built a reputation as a supportive, collaborative, and highly entertaining friend who seemed to have a story for everything.

“Tony would always ask for my opinions — what did I think?” says Barbara Imperiali, MIT’s Class of 1922 Professor of Biology and Chemistry, who first met Sinskey as a graduate student. “Even though I was younger, he viewed me as an equal. It was exciting to be able to share my academic journey with him. Even later, he was continually opening doors for me, mentoring, connecting. He felt it was his job to get people into a room together to make new connections.”

Sinskey grew up in the small town of Collinsville, Illinois, and spent nights after school working on a farm. For his undergraduate degree, he attended the University of Illinois, where he got a job washing dishes at the dining hall. One day, as he recalled in a 2020 conversation, he complained to his advisor about the dishwashing job, so the advisor offered him a job washing equipment in his microbiology lab.

In a development that would repeat itself throughout Sinskey’s career, he befriended the researchers in the lab and started learning about their work. Soon he was showing up on weekends and helping out. The experience inspired Sinskey to go to graduate school, and he only applied to one place.

Sinskey earned his ScD from MIT in nutrition and food science in 1967. He joined MIT’s faculty a few years later and never left.

“He loved MIT and its excellence in research and education, which were incredibly important to him,” Walker says. “I don’t know of another institution this interdisciplinary — there’s barely a speed bump between departments — so you can collaborate with anybody. He loved that. He also loved the spirit of entrepreneurship, which he thrived on. If you heard somebody wanted to get a project done, you could run around, get 10 people, and put it together. He just loved doing stuff like that.”

Working across departments would become a signature of Sinskey’s research. His original office was on the first floor of MIT’s Building 56, right next to the parking lot, so he’d leave his door open in the mornings and afternoons and colleagues would stop in and chat.

“One of my favorite things to do was to drop in on Tony when I saw that his office door was open,” says Chris Kaiser, MIT’s Amgen Professor of Biology. “We had a whole range of things we liked to catch up on, but they always included his perspectives looking back on his long history at MIT. It also always included hopes for the future, including tracking trajectories of MIT students, whom he doted on.”

Long before the internet, colleagues describe Sinskey as a kind of internet unto himself, constantly leveraging his vast web of relationships to make connections and stay on top of the latest science news.

“He was an incredibly gracious person — and he knew everyone,” Imperiali says. “It was as if his Rolodex had no end. You would sit there and he would say, ‘Call this person.’ or ‘Call that person.’ And ‘Did you read this new article?’ He had a wonderful view of science and collaboration, and he always made that a cornerstone of what he did. Whenever I’d see his door open, I’d grab a cup of tea and just sit there and talk to him.”

When the first recombinant DNA molecules were produced in the 1970s, it became a hot area of research. Sinskey wanted to learn more about recombinant DNA, so he hosted a large symposium on the topic at MIT that brought in experts from around the world.

“He got his name associated with recombinant DNA for years because of that,” Walker recalls. “People started seeing him as Mr. Recombinant DNA. That kind of thing happened all the time with Tony.”

Sinskey’s research contributions extended beyond recombinant DNA into other microbial techniques to produce amino acids and biodegradable plastics. He co-founded CBI in 2005 to improve global health through the development and dispersion of biomedical innovations. The center adopted Sinskey’s collaborative approach in order to accelerate innovation in biotechnology and biomedical research, bringing together experts from across MIT’s schools.

“Tony was at the forefront of advancing cell culture engineering principles so that making biomedicines could become a reality. He knew early on that biomanufacturing was an important step on the critical path from discovering a drug to delivering it to a patient,” says Stacy Springs, the executive director of CBI. “Tony was not only my boss and mentor, but one of my closest friends. He was always working to help everyone reach their potential, whether that was a colleague, a former or current researcher, or a student. He had a gentle way of encouraging you to do your best.”

“MIT is one of the greatest places to be because you can do anything you want here as long as it’s not a crime,” Sinskey joked in 2020. “You can do science, you can teach, you can interact with people — and the faculty at MIT are spectacular to interact with.”

Sinskey shared his affection for MIT with his family. His wife, the late ChoKyun Rha ’62, SM ’64, SM ’66, ScD ’67, was a professor at MIT for more than four decades and the first woman of Asian descent to receive tenure at MIT. His two sons also attended MIT — Tong-ik Lee Sinskey ’79, SM ’80 and Taeminn Song MBA ’95, who is the director of strategy and strategic initiatives for MIT Information Systems and Technology (IS&T).

Song recalls: “He was driven by same goal my mother had: to advance knowledge in science and technology by exploring new ideas and pushing everyone around them to be better.”

Around 10 years ago, Sinskey began teaching a class with Walker, Course 7.21/7.62 (Microbial Physiology). Walker says their approach was to treat the students as equals and learn as much from them as they taught. The lessons extended beyond the inner workings of microbes to what it takes to be a good scientist and how to be creative. Sinskey and Rha even started inviting the class over to their home for Thanksgiving dinner each year.

“At some point, we realized the class was turning into a close community,” Walker says. “Tony had this endless supply of stories. It didn’t seem like there was a topic in biology that Tony didn’t have a story about either starting a company or working with somebody who started a company.”

Over the last few years, Walker wasn’t sure they were going to continue teaching the class, but Sinskey remarked it was one of the things that gave his life meaning after his wife’s passing in 2021. That decided it.

After finishing up this past semester with a class-wide lunch at Legal Sea Foods, Sinskey and Walker agreed it was one of the best semesters they’d ever taught.

In addition to his two sons, Sinskey is survived by his daughter-in-law Hyunmee Elaine Song, five grandchildren, and two great grandsons. He has two brothers, Terry Sinskey (deceased in 1975) and Timothy Sinskey, and a sister, Christine Sinskey Braudis.

Gifts in Sinskey’s memory can be made to the ChoKyun Rha (1962) and Anthony J Sinskey (1967) Fund.

Alumni Profile: Desmond Edwards, SB ’22

An interest in translating medicine for a wider audience

School of Science
February 6, 2025

Growing up hearing both English and Patois in rural Jamaica, he always had an interest in understanding other languages, so he studied French in high school and minored in it at MIT. As a child with persistent illnesses, he was frustrated that doctors couldn’t explain the “how” and “why” of what was happening in his body. “I wanted to understand how an entity so small that we can’t even see it with most microscopes is able to get into a massively intricate human body and completely shut it down in a matter of days,” he says.

Edwards, now an MIT graduate and a PhD candidate in microbiology and immunology at Stanford University—with a deferred MD admission in hand as well—feels closer to understanding things. The financial support he received at MIT from the Class of 1975 Scholarship Fund, he says, was one major reason that he chose MIT.

Support for research and discovery

I took a three-week Independent Activities Period boot camp designed to expose first-years with little or no research background to basic molecular biology and microbiology techniques. We had guidance from the professor and teaching assistants, but it was up to us what path we took. That intellectual freedom was part of what made me fall in love with academic research. The lecturer, Mandana Sassanfar, made it her personal mission to connect interested students to Undergraduate Research Opportunities Program placements, which is how I found myself in Professor Rebecca Lamason’s lab.

At the end of my first year, I debated whether to prioritize my academic research projects or leave for a higher-paying summer internship. My lab helped me apply for the Peter J. Eloranta Summer Undergraduate Research Fellowship, which provided funding that allowed me to stay for the summer, and I ended up staying in the lab for the rest of my time at MIT. One paper I coauthored (about developing new genetic tools to control pathogenic bacteria’s gene expression) was published this year.

French connections

French is one of the working languages of many global health programs, and being able to read documents in their original language has been helpful because many diseases that I care about impact Francophone countries like those in sub-Saharan and west Africa. In one French class, we had to analyze an original primary historical text, so I was able to look at an outbreak of plague in the 18th century and compare their public health response with ours to Covid-19. My MIT French classes have been useful in some very cool ways that I did not anticipate.

Translating medicine for the masses

When I go home and talk about my research, I often adapt folk stories, analogies, and relatable everyday situations to get points across since there might not be exact Patois words or phrases to directly convey what I’m describing. Taking these scientific concepts and breaking them all into bite-size pieces is important for the general American public too. I want to lead a scientific career that not only advances our understanding and treatment of infectious diseases, but also positively impacts policy, education, and outreach. Right now, this looks like a combination of being an academic/medical professor and eventually leading the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.