If you give a person a fish, they will eat for a day.
If you teach a person to fish, they will eat for a lifetime.
If you teach a teacher how to fish ... just imagine.
Maybe that's the way to go about sharing science, if you want to make the biggest impact.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Scary Science
It's a dark and stormy night. Thunder grumbles in the distance. You make your way toward the dark silhouette of the mansion on haunted hill, tripping on fallen dead wood from the twin burr oak sentinels you pass between, their barren branches dissecting the dark sky above. You approach the door, lightning flashes as it swings open to reveal ... a scientist! Ahhhhhhhhh! Run away!
I've exaggerated, of course, but science anxiety is something I've had to become well aware of since I began my adventures in outreach. Whether it's showing an intern the ropes of our lab, or introducing a young person to a potential science career during a job shadowing experience, there is often a little wall that I need to delicately dismantle, or smash through, before we can get down to discussing real science.
The fact is that some folks have put scientists up on a pedestal. And so to come into a lab, or talk to a scientist, those people are worried that they will say or do something "stupid" in the presence of someone so smart. Sometimes they won't bother to listen, or try and give up quickly, thinking they can't possibly understand. This is partly the fault of scientists who kind of like to keep this mythology going, that they're this special class of unapproachable genius people. This translates to job security. It also translates to the people that pay you to do your research -- the public -- losing interest eventually and not paying you anymore.
I'm of the opinion that if you can't explain your work to anyone at any level, then you either don't know what you're doing either, or you're just not trying. And it does take some practice and paying attention for that look of confusion or panic or glazing of the eyes. But most of all it takes sensitivity.
Interns that come into my lab are often in a little bit of awe that they are allowed in here. Often they're terrified of messing something up. A little bit of nerves is good, since it shows that they care about doing a good job, and that they are going to be diligent. Things I do to put them at ease are to be interested in them as people, continually asking if they have any questions, make it clear that I want to improve as a teacher so please let me know if there's something I need to clarify, and reiterating that the only bad question is the one that goes unasked that results in a big mistake.
Inevitably, something goes wrong. A sample gets dropped. A step in the protocol gets overlooked. At that time we can talk about steps to take to recover and prevent it from happening again. And I always say "We didn't hire a lab robot, we hired a human being. Mistakes are going to happen. And the cool thing is, as scientists, we can think about the smartest way to fix it."
The best I can hope for when they leave is to know that to be a scientist, you don't have to be a certified genius that drones on about things no one understands. Being a genius probably helps, but it's not a requirement. You just have to be smart enough. And curious. And adaptable.
And fearless.
I've exaggerated, of course, but science anxiety is something I've had to become well aware of since I began my adventures in outreach. Whether it's showing an intern the ropes of our lab, or introducing a young person to a potential science career during a job shadowing experience, there is often a little wall that I need to delicately dismantle, or smash through, before we can get down to discussing real science.
The fact is that some folks have put scientists up on a pedestal. And so to come into a lab, or talk to a scientist, those people are worried that they will say or do something "stupid" in the presence of someone so smart. Sometimes they won't bother to listen, or try and give up quickly, thinking they can't possibly understand. This is partly the fault of scientists who kind of like to keep this mythology going, that they're this special class of unapproachable genius people. This translates to job security. It also translates to the people that pay you to do your research -- the public -- losing interest eventually and not paying you anymore.
I'm of the opinion that if you can't explain your work to anyone at any level, then you either don't know what you're doing either, or you're just not trying. And it does take some practice and paying attention for that look of confusion or panic or glazing of the eyes. But most of all it takes sensitivity.
Interns that come into my lab are often in a little bit of awe that they are allowed in here. Often they're terrified of messing something up. A little bit of nerves is good, since it shows that they care about doing a good job, and that they are going to be diligent. Things I do to put them at ease are to be interested in them as people, continually asking if they have any questions, make it clear that I want to improve as a teacher so please let me know if there's something I need to clarify, and reiterating that the only bad question is the one that goes unasked that results in a big mistake.
Inevitably, something goes wrong. A sample gets dropped. A step in the protocol gets overlooked. At that time we can talk about steps to take to recover and prevent it from happening again. And I always say "We didn't hire a lab robot, we hired a human being. Mistakes are going to happen. And the cool thing is, as scientists, we can think about the smartest way to fix it."
The best I can hope for when they leave is to know that to be a scientist, you don't have to be a certified genius that drones on about things no one understands. Being a genius probably helps, but it's not a requirement. You just have to be smart enough. And curious. And adaptable.
And fearless.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
What's a Scientist Look Like?
If you were to ask 100 kids to draw a "scientist", here's what I'd expect. Perhaps half of them would give you blank stares, not knowing where to begin. Then the other half would draw really weird looking people. Likely white, male, old, with Albert Einstein-hair and chunky glasses. Perhaps an occasional female would pop up, but again, weird would be the theme. Crazy hair, cat-ladylike, and not someone you'd like to hang out with. Definitely not someone a kid would imagine themselves as when they grow up. If you really want to take a survey of what the average person thinks of scientists, just take a look at how scientists are portrayed in movies and television shows
That's one cool thing I like about volunteering. Sometimes just by walking into a room and introducing myself to a bunch of kids I can break about a dozen stereotypes.
That's one cool thing I like about volunteering. Sometimes just by walking into a room and introducing myself to a bunch of kids I can break about a dozen stereotypes.
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