Thought for the Day

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.

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.

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.

You Be the Judge

This has been my third year volunteering as a school science fair judge. The first time was because a teacher friend of mine asked me, but now every year I'm the one asking, "Can I do it again?" far in advance of when anyone at her school has considered circulating the request.

Science fairs make me smile. Though I've joined the ranks of "grown up" scientists, I like to point out to my colleagues that these fairs never stop. They just change the name to make them sound more professional: "conferences". Seeing kids standing in front of their carefully designed display boards, wringing their hands as they wait for the judges, hearing them recount their adventures with excitement and fielding our questions ... I can't help but picture these kids years from now in front of posters depicting their thesis research at an American Chemical Society conference. The words and concepts they use may get more technical, but the format remains the same. And hopefully the enthusiasm does, too.

Based on my experiences and advice from coordinators and other judges, I keep my strategy for interacting with the kids simple: promote curiosity, confidence, and fun. The actual time I spend with any one kid's project is less than 15 minutes, and I want the kid to do most of the talking, so having an effective "outreach" experience in this situation takes some strategy. But if you're looking for ideas, here's mine:

A Booth for the Youth -- High School Career Fair

Last week I got the opportunity to man a booth at a career expo for local high school students. First of all, how come they never had these when I was a kid? Maybe they did and they just weren't on my radar. The concept is extremely cool. It's like "science fair" meets "career day". People from all kinds of local companies and organizations are invited representing a huge spectrum of careers in science, technology, engineering and math. Each of us presenters get a big table where we can set up displays with pictures and props representing our careers. Then we just stood there for 3 hours and let the kids and their parents wander up to us and ask us questions about ourselves, our career, and how we got there. Over 600 people attended. It was just plain fun.

In preparation for doing this I used my secret weapon for generating awesome ideas: Google. I typed in "high school career booth." I only got one hit that made any sense at all, someone asking the web-verse for advice on how to do a good one. The consensus? Candy. Ply your audience with sugar. Since I was already volunteering my time, I wasn't too enthused about also volunteering my money to give kids cavities, so I skipped that tip.

Mixing Brains - Art meets Science

I was so pleased the other day to find out that a poem I wrote was accepted for publication in a literary magazine. Seeding the Snow, according to its website, has the very neat mission of "offering women the opportunity to express their love for the natural world." I first heard about it when my extremely smart boyfriend purchased a copy for me from the Morton Arboretum's gift shop. A writer himself, he said something like, "Here's one journal I can never get into, since, well, I'm a man. But you should try." I'm very glad my boyfriend is ineligible, I have to say.

My poem is about soil. Imagine that, a soil scientist writing a poem about that. A stretch, right? I had to do loads of research in preparation: two years of grad school and a thesis. At least I can tell you that I'm not so off my rocker that it's a love poem. (Although, that would be a cool idea!) I wrote this poem a while ago when inspiration struck, and when I saw this journal years later I immediately thought of dusting off my old soil poem.

When I was in college I not only took a few courses in soil and environmental science, I also took an elective in something called Aesthetics. I don't think I quite knew what that meant when I signed up -- it was the lesser of some other weird choices for electives -- but it turned out to be centered around the question: "What is art?" This is a far more complex question than you might think, because it is definitely in the eye of the beholder. I know my cat has created a few hairballs that he probably considers masterpieces, or you might see something that wouldn't be much of an improvement at the modern art museum. Anyone who's walked through a museum has thought it before, I'm sure. You turn a corner, come upon a piece that is just a large blue square, and wonder,"Who decided to call that art?"

Share your voice -- but save it!

The biggest mistake I made the first time I spoke in a middle school classroom for the entire day was planning to talk too much. I had so many lovely things to share! I had snazzy cool photos of working out in the field and my coworkers acting goofy in the lab. And I had so much to say-- a little something about how the environmental research I do applies to their world, what I liked and disliked about being a scientist, what a typical day was like, how much it rocks that I get to wear jeans to work every day (one of the kids yelled out, "So do I!!").

And so, by the time I got to sixth period, and my sixth time giving my talk, I was totally dead. My voice sounded like I'd been crawling through the Sahara for days without water. And I was just a little bit cranky and not nearly so glowy and enthusiastic as I was when the day began. I'm guessing if you charted my effectiveness as a speaker throughout the day the slope would've been negative. Sad when I started out with spirits so high!