From ions to immunotherapy: a career shaped by learning

When I began my scientific career, I could not have predicted that one day I would be designing a clinical trial for a pediatric brain cancer therapy. Yet, that is exactly what I’m doing now. 

I’m an associate scientist in the lab of Giedre Krenciute, PhD, Department of Bone Marrow Transplantation & Cellular Therapy. Our lab develops and improves a type of cellular immunotherapy called chimeric antigen receptor (CAR) T cells. CAR T cells retrain a patient’s own immune system to target and destroy tumor cells, helping the body heal itself. Now, after years of preclinical studies, I’m helping move one of those therapies closer to the clinic to improve outcomes and reduce toxicity for patients.

To do this, I enrolled in the Clinical Investigations Master’s Program at the St. Jude Graduate School of Biomedical Sciences. I just completed my first year and am now beginning my thesis project: designing a clinical trial for pediatric brain tumors, including medulloblastoma, one of the most common malignant childhood brain cancers.

This is not where I thought my scientific career would lead.

It’s better.

Learning a new field

Many scientists spend most of their careers studying a single system, molecule or disease. My path has looked different. I earned my PhD in chemistry from Northwestern University, studying cobalt metal ions — but then I changed my entire focus.

When I interviewed for postdoctoral positions, I was candid with Krenciute, who would later become my principal investigator. I told her that I had no background in immunotherapy and that I did not aspire to run my own lab; instead, I wished to become someone’s trusted right hand. I was motivated to make a difference through my research, and I was a quick study and willing to work hard.

Her reply has stayed with me ever since: “I can teach you anything if you’re willing to learn.”

So, I came to St. Jude as a postdoctoral fellow to study immunotherapy for pediatric brain tumors and learn as much as I could. My new lab mates taught me the experimental techniques and language of the field, so I could quickly become an effective researcher. I’ll admit, it was like drinking from a firehose, and it was overwhelming at first. However, I strongly believe science does not depend on what you already know, but on whether you are willing to keep learning.

As I immersed myself in the field, I came to understand both the promise and the limitations of current therapy for medulloblastoma. Many children with the disease respond well to treatment, but disease relapse remains largely lethal. Additionally, even when treatment works, radiation and chemotherapy can leave lasting side effects. 

That understanding motivates me and my lab to develop more precise, less toxic therapies.

Moving a project from the bench to a clinical trial

Our lab had already investigated a CAR T cell targeting B7-H3, a protein that is expressed on cancer cells but only a few normal cells. This means the CAR T cell can selectively destroy tumor cells, reducing side effects. Part of my research focus is to optimize B7-H3-CAR T cells for medulloblastoma. Still, not every medulloblastoma or other pediatric brain tumor expresses B7-H3. I saw an opportunity to help address that gap.

Through my postdoc, and now as an associate scientist, I have investigated a CAR T cell targeting another cancer-related protein, EPHA2, which is present on many medulloblastoma tumors. In normal tissues, EPHA2 is largely tucked away within the structures that hold cells together. In cancer, however, it becomes abnormally exposed on the cell surface, making it more accessible to CAR T cells. In preclinical models of medulloblastoma, we have seen encouraging signs of activity and are carefully evaluating safety.

Traditionally, this is where a bench scientist publishes the findings and passes the work on to others for clinical development, but I wanted to keep going. I wanted to play a role in moving this promising preclinical therapy forward toward the clinic. 

Once again, I found myself stepping into unfamiliar territory, but I remained willing to learn.

With enthusiastic support from Krenciute and Stephen Gottschalk, MD, Department of Bone Marrow Transplantation & Cellular Therapy chair, I applied and was accepted into the Clinical Investigations Master’s Program at St. Jude. During my first year, I studied the fundamentals of clinical and epidemiological research. Now, going into the second year, I’m beginning my thesis project, which will be designing the clinical trial for my CAR T–cell pediatric brain tumor therapy.

Lifelong learning and emotional resiliency power my scientific career

The defining feature of my career has been lifelong learning. Scientists can sometimes feel locked into a particular field, thinking that the first subject they study determines everything that comes after. My experience has shown me otherwise.

So much of science is learning how to learn, but once you do, you can apply it to anything. Being able to ask questions, master new information and adapt to unfamiliar problems are skills you can carry into entirely different disciplines. Even then, sometimes learning isn’t enough and you have to also ask yourself what kind of work feels meaningful and can sustain you through the uncertainty, setbacks and long timelines that come with research.

For me, that answer is personal. Like many people in cancer research, I was shaped by an experience with the disease long before it became my profession. Earlier in my life, one of my closest friends lost a young sibling to cancer. That loss has stayed with me. It is part of what gave me the resolve to keep stretching across disciplines and to continue pushing toward work that could one day help children and families facing a pediatric brain cancer.

By pairing that sense of purpose with a willingness to keep learning, I have gone from studying ions to helping design a clinical trial for children with brain tumors. For me, that path has reinforced something I now believe deeply: A scientific career does not have to follow the route you first imagined to be the one you were meant to pursue.