In the spring of 1997, I was accepted as a transfer student from Cypress Community College to the University of California, Davis. I was thrilled to be only the second person in my family's history to attend a 4-year university. Around that same time, I was also selected for a summer research opportunity at UC Davis through MURPPS (Mentorship for Undergraduate Research Participants in the Mathematical and Physical Sciences). Somehow, despite being a Food Science major, I was admitted into this program. At that point, I had never been exposed to research, nor did I know anyone who was a scientist. I had little idea of what scientific research actually entailed. I was initially assigned to work with a computer scientist, but when that faculty member had to take leave for personal reasons, I was reassigned to an analytical chemistry laboratory led by Dr. Carlito Lebrilla (Figure 1). I could not have known then that this reassignment would become one of the most important turning points in both my career and my life. After joining Carlito's lab, I was mentored directly by two graduate students, Javier Ramirez and Fei He, though I also learned from many of the other graduate students and postdocs in the group. Early on, I often felt overwhelmed and out of place in the research environment. Like many first-generation students entering unfamiliar spaces, I struggled with whether I truly belonged. Carlito, however, made time to check in with me, ask how things were going, and offer encouragement. His reassuring presence was exactly what I needed to begin building confidence in my ability to think critically about research and contribute meaningfully to the lab. What made Carlito especially impactful as a mentor was not just his scientific insight but his humanity. He often shared his own experiences growing up in the United States after his family moved from the Philippines, and those conversations helped me feel seen and understood. Through that generosity, a lasting bond formed between a young undergraduate just finding his footing and a distinguished professor already making major contributions to the field. Carlito was an exceptional mentor in every sense. He offered sharp scientific guidance and thoughtful interpretation of data, but he also listened with patience and genuine care. He understood both the exhilaration of cutting-edge research and the frustrations that came with it, especially in a lab that depended on home-built instrumentation that seemed, at times, to be down for repairs more often than it was working. I became very familiar with dismantling the home-built 5T FT-ICR-MS to track down faulty grounded wires, perhaps more familiar than I would have liked. Carlito had a remarkable gift for making every member of the lab feel valued and important. He made it clear that each of us was contributing not only to the lab but to science itself. Group meetings were rigorous and intellectually lively, filled with probing questions, constructive critique, and, just as often, Carlito's humor and memorable stories. His sense of humor is legendary. One experience in his lab in particular has stayed with me for decades. Javier and I were once cleaning a skimmer from the electrospray ionization source and accidentally scratched it during sonication. Carlito was understandably displeased and emphasized how careful we needed to be with such delicate components. He told us we would need to polish the scratch out in the machine shop and even accompanied us to make sure it was done properly. As we prepared to use the polishing wheel, Carlito stopped us and said, “Let me show you how to do it.” Those turned out to be famous last words. As he brought the skimmer closer and closer to the rapidly spinning wheel (which he set at the highest speed imaginable), he kept turning his head toward us to explain the importance of being careful. Just as he said, “You have to pay attention to everything you do,” the wheel caught the skimmer and launched it like a ninja star across the room, crashing it into the wall. Javier and I stood there stunned. Without missing a beat, Carlito said, “Pay better attention than that!” We all instantly burst into laughter. Although I was only an undergraduate in the lab, Carlito never treated me as “just” an undergraduate. He held everyone to high standards, expected real progress, and at the same time provided the support and mentoring needed to help us rise to those expectations. We met regularly to discuss results, and I still remember how infectious his enthusiasm was whenever anyone brought him a new finding. He would light up and say the data was “so cool!” That excitement made you want to work harder and think more boldly. Carlito also made sure that undergraduates were included in the broader scientific world as well. He took us to meetings and conferences, including the Lake Arrowhead Ion Conference, and introduced us to leaders in the field such as Jack Beauchamp, Peter Armentrout, and Evan Williams. Those experiences were transformative. In fact, I was later accepted into a summer research program at Caltech and had the opportunity to work with Jack Beauchamp in 1999, an opportunity that almost certainly would not have happened without Carlito's mentorship, his support, and his strong letter of recommendation. He understood the importance of helping young scientists build networks and gain confidence in professional spaces. At the same time, Carlito built a lab culture rooted in camaraderie and celebration. He took the group out to mark both major accomplishments and everyday milestones, hosted fun gatherings at his home, and organized outings that brought the lab together outside the workplace. One especially memorable trip was a deep-sea fishing excursion. Carlito and I each caught our two-fish limit very early, after which I spent the remainder of the day simply trying not to lose my lunch overboard in the rough water. He also loved to go to lunch with the group, where he would talk about science and life, and always tell us incredibly fun stories about his career and experiences. Looking back, I realize how many of my memories from that period are not only of science, but of community, laughter, and belonging. One of my responsibilities as an undergraduate was to collect lists of publications that lab members needed, go to the library, locate the articles, and make photocopies for the group. This was of course, before the internet made literature access instantaneous. The work could be tedious, but Carlito always emphasized how important it was. He never minimized the value of the task, and he made sure I understood that it was a meaningful contribution to the success of the lab. In retrospect, that responsibility turned out to be an unexpected gift. I spent long hours in the library making copies, but also reading the papers we needed and many more that I discovered along the way. It became an important part of my scientific education. Even as an undergraduate, I could see that Carlito approached science with a rare fearlessness. Looking back now over the arc of his career, that quality stands out even more clearly. He has repeatedly embraced new challenges, entered new areas, and redefined himself and his work in ways that few scientists are willing to attempt. Just as importantly, he instilled that same fearlessness in his trainees. When I first arrived at UC Davis, I was a Food Science major who imagined earning a bachelor's degree and then finding a job in industry. After spending a year in Carlito's lab, I began to realize how much I loved mass spectrometry research. I remember one conversation with Carlito that fundamentally changed the course of my life. He told me that I should seriously consider going to graduate school in chemistry because, in his view, I was becoming a strong researcher. I immediately pushed back. I reminded him that I was not even a chemistry major and told him I doubted I could succeed in upper-division chemistry courses, much less in graduate school. He responded calmly and simply: he believed I could do it, and I should think about it. No one had ever expressed that level of faith in me before. From that moment on, I stopped being afraid to pursue opportunities that once seemed beyond my reach. Carlito has been my mentor and friend ever since my early days at UC Davis (Figure 1), and he remains so even now. I still seek his advice on professional and career matters, and he continues to support and champion me at every stage. It is easy for me to say that I would not have had the scientific career I have had without Carlito Lebrilla. I also know that I am just one among many scientists whose lives and careers he has profoundly shaped through his mentorship, generosity, and vision. Thank you, Carlito, for taking a chance on an undergraduate nearly 30 years ago who had little idea what he was doing, but who was fortunate enough to find a wonderful mentor who did. Benjamin A Garcia: writing – original draft. The author declares no conflicts of interest.
Benjamin A. García (Fri,) studied this question.