This blog created in fulfillment of Phipps Botany In Action Fellowship program
I’m sitting at the bar of a restaurant waiting for my food to arrive when two strangers on either side of me strike up a conversation. It turns out they’re old acquittances who hadn’t seen each other in a few years. They made polite small talk and one of them inquired of the other, “You still living out by the lake where the students do their ecology research? You know, wasting time kissing frogs and hugging trees all day?” The tone of the questions was both humorous and derogatory. To be clear, I was not an intended target of their mockery (there was nothing identifying me as a researcher at the time) and it was merely ironic that I, a student and field ecologist who spends my days identifying and counting (not hugging) plants, happened to overhear them. I took no insult and, while I might have cracked a smile, made no comment. I waited for my food and moved on. … For weeks afterwards, I would occasionally think back to their exchange. I wondered how they could have acquired this perspective of field research in the first place? After all, they live next to an area of active ecological research and should therefore have the best possible insight into what ecological research entails. Instead, it was clear not only that they had a warped conception of field research but that they also thought very little of its value. Misconceptions about what researchers do and provide to society are widespread in the public, but this might be exacerbated in places lacking permanent or active research infrastructure. In contrast, colleges and universities provide their surrounding communities with examples of research as academics are part of the larger community. Community members understand the direct benefits that research universities bring including education, employment opportunities, and economic stability. So where are institutions lacking in the United States? In the field of ecology for instance, we see stark differences in the locations of degree granting institutions. Using data collected from the National Center for Education Statistics, less than five percent of institutions offering four-year degrees in ecology are located in rural settings (Fig 1). Fig. 1 – Number of institutions offering four-year degrees (or beyond) in ecology within each of the locale classifications as defined by the U.S. Census Bureau. Note: rural classifications are defined as any The Census Bureau defines rural as any population, housing, or territory not in an urban area. Data provided by the National Center for Education Statistics (NCES).
However, as described above, just because an active campus and research facilities might be lacking in some places doesn’t mean they aren’t hotbeds for research. Researchers in field sciences including (but not limited to) ecology, geology, and paleontology often conduct science seasonally in rural or remote places far from the institutions they occupy during the academic year. So why might the public living near these research hotspots have little awareness for the science being conducted near them? Strapped with limited resources, scientists conducting research in distant locations have little time or incentive to interact with local community members. Researchers will often work furiously around the clock to collect as much data as efficiently as possible so they can quickly return to their universities along with the data they’ve collected. The term Neo-Colonial (or ‘Helicopter’) science has been used frequently to describe the actions of researchers from developed countries taking part in science conducted in developing nations with little to no collaboration (or benefit) to local researchers and communities they are visiting (Dahdouh-Guebas et al. 2003). This can have drastic impacts not only on limiting careers and opportunities for aspiring researchers in developing countries, but also limit our understanding of the natural world (Nunez et al. 2021). While addressing these issues at a global scale is crucial for increasing equity in science and broadening our understanding of natural phenomena, could academia also be limiting access to knowledge within developed nations such as the United States? Nuñez et al. offer several pieces of guidance on how to overcome potential barriers at a global scale that could work at a regional scale as well. For instance, engage and actively collaborate with local researchers (and non-researchers) to promote greater diversity among research teams with the goal of better understanding natural patterns and processes. Local researchers might not only have unique insights into local ecosystems, but can also make meaningful contributions to the design and production of science. Helping to establish funding opportunities and infrastructure that is accessible to all researchers in rural environments could provide incentives for local researchers. For ecologists, this might include the establishment of Long Term Ecological Research (LTER) sites or permanent biological field stations, which (in addition to producing research) have been shown to develop interest, identification, and engagement with science among the public (Tydecks et al. 2021). Offering opportunities to employ and/or train aspiring scientists in the places where field research is being conducted is also important for increasing equity and access to science. There is no doubt that science has value. However, the direct benefits of science might often only be narrowly accessible to the individual researchers involved. Expanding the circle of beneficiaries (whether that be monetary, prestige, knowledge, training, employment, advancement, etc.) will encourage more people to understand and appreciate the value of research and the science it produces. As researchers, sharing can be challenging and potentially costly yet necessary for growing and diversifying our fields. Inclusion makes our science stronger and solidifies researchers’ place in both the scientific and surrounding community. … I’m not sure I could have convinced those strangers that the research I do produces value or benefits anyone besides me. However, I do know that during my time as a graduate student researcher I took every opportunity to patronize the local businesses where I was conducting research including the restaurant where I overheard them. In my next blog post I’ll describe my efforts training and sharing an authentic research experience with high school students in the community adjacent to our field station. I can assure you, we accomplished a lot more than kissing frogs and hugging trees! Acknowledgements This essay was inspired by in-part by conversations with Dr. Martin Nuñez. I’d also like to thank those two strangers at the bar for helping plant the seed. Next round’s on me! Citations Dahdouh-Guebas, F. et al. (2003). Neo-colonial science by the most industrialised upon the least developed countries in peer-reviewed publishing. Scientometrics 56, 329–343. National Center for Education Statistics. (1996). Washington, D.C. Nuñez, M. et al. (2021). Making ecology really global Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 36, 766-769 https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tree.2021.06.004. Tydecks, L. et al. (2021). Biological Field Stations: A Global Infrastructure for Research, Education, and Public Engagement. BioScience, 66, 164-171 https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biv174
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This past summer, our lab hosted two undergraduate students as part of Pymatuning Lab of Ecology’s Summer Undergraduate Research Program. This program is designed to offer interested students firsthand experience at conducting scientific research. Participation in programs like these can be helpful for students who are trying to decide whether a career in research is right for them. Research often presents unforeseen challenges and rewards that are difficult to describe unless you’ve personally experienced them. To illustrate what trying research for the first time is like, I interviewed our summer fellows Ashlynn Moretti and Dominic Aiello so they could share their experiences for students who are considering opportunities like these in the future! What motivated you to apply to the PLE research program?
What were some of the biggest challenges you faced as a student research fellow?
What were some of your proudest moments or biggest successes this summer?
How did the experience change the way you think about scientific research?
What advice would you have for students interested in participating in summer research programs in the future?
Occasionally, you’re put in a situation when you’re asked to lead an outreach event with little advanced notice. Sometimes you’re given little to no materials to present as well! Such an occasion happened to me last month when I volunteered to fill-in for an absent faculty member who had to back out of an outreach commitment at the last minute. I was given a box of animal pelts and no curriculum to lead a three-hour outreach event for an unknown number of youth participants that could be aged anywhere from two to twenty years old. I knew nothing about the site I would be presenting at or what additional resources (or lack thereof) would be available. I also have little to no experience in wildlife and conservation biology. While frustrating, I reminded myself that learning was the core objective and not my desire to feel like an expert (or even competent). Keeping this in mind, I led an activity as a non-expert and here are a few things that I learned from the experience.
Participant: “A tortoise has a shell to help protect itself from other animals that want to eat it.” Alien (me): “How come the deer doesn’t have a shell? Does nothing want to eat deer?” Participant: “Deer have long legs to help the run fast and escape other animals that want to eat them!” While this might not seem earth shattering, it could be the first time that participants have had to consider why certain organisms have different adaptations! Comparing such dissimilar organisms might seem trivial to most kids, but not to an alien! This past year, I had the privilege of participating in outreach programming taking place at the University of Pittsburgh’s Hill District Community Engagement Center (CEC for short). I facilitated biology themed education outreach activities for small groups of students ranging from elementary to high school. After a nearly two-year absence from participating in in-person outreach events, I had to shake off the rust a bit. I have a background in elementary education and coaching youth athletics, so I’ve grown comfortable leading rooms full of young learners. Still, I was initially unprepared for the energy and enthusiasm these students bring with them. Having taught remote courses to half-asleep (but admittedly excellent) college students for a year, it required a readjustment but proved to be a very rewarding experience. If you’re like me and find yourself conducting outreach in classroom settings again after a COVID hiatus, consider a few of these points below.
I want to thank current and former members of the University of Pittsburgh’s Department of Biological Sciences including Becky Gonda, Audrey Sykes, and Taylor Ayers for helping lead and facilitate outreach activities. I’d also like to thank Kirk Holbrook and Marlo Hall for the opportunity to partner with the Hill District CEC. To learn more about the University of Pittsburgh’s Community Engagement Centers, visit https://cec.pitt.edu/ |
Taylor Zallekis passionate about scientific research, education, and communication. Archives
September 2022
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