I began my studies as a science undergrad at Western in fall 2013. Unlike many of my peers, I wasn’t interested in becoming a doctor or dentist. I knew I loved science, but I often worried about finding my niche.
In the first weeks of my introductory biology course, we studied how HIV spreads and how it changes the way our cells use genetic information. Given HIV’s global impact, I was fascinated and decided to take a course on the biology of infection and immunity in my second year to learn more. Taught by HIV researcher and Schulich Medicine & Dentistry professor Jimmy Dikeakos, the course had me completely hooked and I enrolled in the microbiology and immunology with pathology program at Schulich Medicine & Dentistry.
I quickly realized HIV research wasn’t just a passing interest, it was something I wanted to pursue long term. I went on to pursue a PhD under Jimmy’s supervision, focusing on how the HIV protein Nef enables the virus to evade the immune system and survive during treatment.
In November 2024, I successfully defended my PhD, nearly 11 years after those first fateful bio lectures. It was a full-circle moment and reminded me that not having all the answers at the start can actually lead you to where you’re meant to be. I’m now a postdoctoral researcher in the Dikeakos lab where I’m studying how blocking Nef could improve HIV treatment and help the body clear the virus more effectively.
Mitchell Mumby, BMSc’18, PhD’25
Postdoctoral associate
I arrived at Perth Hall on a humid September morning in 2021 carrying more doubt than luggage. The sky was leaden grey, and everything felt too big—the buildings, the expectations, the silence between my heartbeats.
My room looked out onto Western Road. No sweeping trees or cinematic skyline, just cars arriving and departing, like they knew where they were going. I didn’t. I sat on the edge of my mattress and listened to someone’s speaker down the hall playing a song I didn’t recognize.
Later that day, I got lost looking for my first lecture and stumbled into a philosophy class by mistake. I stayed, not out of fear of judgment but sheer interest. The professor asked, “What if the soul isn’t something you have, but something you build?” That was the first time Western spoke directly to me.
That night, my floormates and I sat cross-legged in the hallway, a mismatched mosaic of strangers with microwaved ramen and half-open hearts. We swapped stories and Spotify playlists. Someone cried about missing home. I started to feel a pulse. Not mine alone, but something collective. Something alive.
That first day didn’t unfold the way movies tell it. But it was real. It peeled something open in me.
Western, from that first imperfect day, taught me meaning doesn’t always bloom in picturesque places. Sometimes it finds you in cinderblock rooms and accidental classrooms, asking questions you didn’t know were yours to ask.
Mahima Patel, BA’25
Do you have a “Western Moment” to share about your experience with a club or sport? Send it to us at magazine@uwo.ca by Feb. 1, and we’ll contact you if it’s considered for the next issue.
