Member Highlights

Building Something That Lasts: The Unusual Journey of Dr. D. Fernando Estrada, Who Put His Inner Gremlin on a Shelf

By Janie McGlohon & Simone Brixius-Anderko, Communications Officers, DMD Division

The Okita Early Career Achievement Award, established by the ASPET Division for Drug Metabolism and Disposition, honors investigators whose originality, independence, and impact have left a distinct mark on the field. This year’s recipient, Dr. D. Fernando Estrada, embodies that spirit. His journey into science was anything but traditional—shaped by years of military service, the challenges of being a first-generation student, and an unwavering drive to “build something that lasts.” What began as an interest in community college evolved into a career defined by innovation, mentorship, and discovery, making Dr. Estrada a fitting honoree for an award that recognizes excellence and originality in drug metabolism and disposition research.

For Dr. Estrada, science was never a childhood certainty—it was a path discovered later in life, shaped by curiosity. “I was a late bloomer when it came to science,” Estrada recalls. “I always found it interesting, but I didn’t really see it as a career option until much later. Scientists just weren’t in my orbit, so it wasn’t something I imagined for myself.” The catalyst came in community college, where small class sizes and an approachable professor made science accessible and engaging. Organic chemistry captured his interest, but it was the last chapter in the textbook, biochemistry, that ultimately fueled his curiosity. “Even though we weren’t required to read it, I found it fascinating,” he explains. “I really liked the idea that everything was connected—how the rules that govern a protein can tell you something about proteins in humans versus bacteria.”

Looking back, Dr. Estrada acknowledges there were more direct routes to science, but his path was shaped by circumstances. “I’m one of six kids, and while my family was supportive, resources were limited. They didn’t have the ‘map’ to navigate college, and neither did I. That’s common with first-gen students. You see a little piece of the map, but not the whole thing.” Dr. Estrada took a detour from science, serving in the military after college, which helped fund his education. What may have seemed like a diversion ultimately became a foundation—teaching skills and discipline that translated seamlessly into research. His army experience helped shape his science and leadership style. “The mindset and critical thinking translate well with planning, testing hypotheses, preparing for multiple outcomes. The transition between the military and academia wasn’t jarring. Both involve training young people who are away from home for the first time, building support systems. In many ways, it felt familiar.”

When Dr. Estrada finally returned to science, he approached it with the same decisiveness that had guided his military service. “I only applied to one PhD program. I didn’t know you were supposed to apply to multiple. That first-gen mindset was still with me—I was lucky to get in.” Graduate school came with risks. He left behind a stable salary as an Army officer to take on the financial uncertainty of a graduate stipend—all while starting a family. “Starting grad school was scary. I was taking a personal financial risk. But I was happier in the lab doing research. Once I got into it, I realized how fulfilling it is.”

Estrada’s path into structural biology was equally serendipitous. Initially passionate about biochemistry, he was drawn to Nuclear Magnetic Resonance (NMR) during his rotations. “I did rotations that were very biochemistry-focused, but the last lab I rotated in is the one I joined. I’d originally started in a fly lab because that PI was also ex-Army, but I didn’t want to pursue that. I liked NMR because it felt familiar. It reminded me of topography maps: peaks, valleys, contours. As someone who worked in military intelligence, I used to advise commanders on possible enemy actions and resource planning. That kind of hypothesis generation and testing translated well to science.” That decision positioned him uniquely in the cytochrome P450 community. “During my PhD, I worked on scaffolding proteins—not enzymes. But when I joined Dr. Emily Scott’s lab, I entered the cytochrome P450 (P450) field. Their relevance to human health intrigued me.”

Following his postdoc, Dr. Estrada reached a pivotal decision point shared by many graduate students—choosing between a faculty role and a career in industry. “My transition into a faculty role wasn’t immediate. It took time to realize this was even possible. Dr. Scott encouraged independence and grant writing. The fundraising aspect, which scares most people, started to feel achievable. I wouldn’t be where I am without her mentorship. It was serendipity that Dr. Scott came into my life.”

Estrada is candid about the challenge of work-life-balance in science. “The biggest challenge was balancing family life. I’ve had a supportive family and, frankly, the privilege of being male. Expectations are different for women, and I saw that with my female peers in grad school. There wasn’t much parental leave then. I know I’ve had privilege in that regard.” For him, family is both grounding and motivating. “Everyone has to find what works for them. For me, it’s my kids. They take up most of my free time—school, sports like football and ice skating.”

Like many scientists, Dr. Estrada has wrestled with imposter syndrome, or what he calls the gremlin. “The idea that you can get rid of imposter syndrome is not always true. I once read an interview with Michelle Obama where she talked about her imposter syndrome, and I thought, If she can’t get rid of it, I’m not getting rid of mine. So, I don’t feed it.” Like in the movie, feeding a gremlin after midnight causes chaos. Similarly, giving energy to imposter syndrome only makes it more destructive. So Estrada puts his gremlin on the shelf. He acknowledges it’s there, but he “tries not to compare myself to others—that’s how it grows. Instead, I compare myself to who I was five years ago. That’s a better measure.” Over time, Estrada’s measure of success has also evolved. “Early on, success meant grants, papers, funding. But eventually, that stops being enough. Now, my measure of success is my students—where they go and what they do. I think, I’ve prepared this person for the world, and that’s a source of pride. If my mentees don’t succeed, I take that personally. That wasn’t how I saw it at the start, but that’s how I see it now.”

The path to success looks different for everyone, and it’s rarely achieved through a single effort. Many face additional challenges, either coming from nontraditional or underrepresented backgrounds, or without educational support. Dr. Estrada emphasizes that there’s no single path to science. “Find your people—the ones who will support you. If no one around you is supporting you, seek out those who will. Maybe it’s a former teacher, a TA, or a professor. Start building that network.” For undergraduates, he offers practical advice: “It’s important for undergrads to get into a lab and observe what grad school is really like. That takes away the mystery and shows you the steps. And you don’t have to take on more student debt to go to grad school. I didn’t know that when I was applying. Put yourself in the right environments, and don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

From the Army to academia, from uncertainty to leadership, Dr. Estrada’s journey embodies resilience, originality, and a commitment to building something lasting. His Okita Award not only recognizes his scientific achievements, but also the impact he continues to have as a mentor and role model in the field of drug metabolism and disposition.