It would appear that communication within the field of science, science learning, scientific research, etc. is something that has lacked attention. I suppose this is sensible, because oftentimes when working in the field, people focus on the acquisition of data and not necessarily how to convey that data to other people, whether those people be peers or civilians. But I agree with Christopher Reddy’s argument that scientific work doesn’t mean much of anything if it isn’t shared with the public, and in such a way that many people from far and wide can know about it and understand it. It’s by sharing scientific discoveries with those with the power to act on them that necessary changes get made, ones involving such issues as climate change or clean energy, for example. Of course, herein we get into issues of partisan politics or cultural differences, as Matthew C. Nisbet and Chris Mooney mention, but in that case, “framing” discoveries in ways that make them more attractive or digestible to different kinds of people comes in handy. Essentially, the purpose of framing scientific points of interest is to make them, well, interesting to different people, and because there is such a swath of varying opinions, politics, and cultures, no one person will be as receptive to one particular frame as another person. We saw this in the example of evolution, and how common people didn’t typically respond well to overly scientific ways of framing evolution, but rather how the existence of evolutionary theory affected economic conditions, and therefore, affected them. People typically only respond to things if they affect or threaten them.

I thought it was actually rather interesting how Nisbet’s and Mooney’s “framing” argument somewhat provides a solution to Reddy’s conundrum. Reddy argued that scientists needed to be more focused on making their scientific work available to, and understandable by, the public. The best way to do this, according to Nisbet and Mooney, is to frame the scientific findings in a way that makes them accessible. I agree that these two arguments are very important to the concept of science communication. Scientific progress is nothing if not communicated to the people, because the people are the ones who need science the most. It’s unfortunate that we don’t pay as much attention to issues like climate change as we should, and it’s a shame that oftentimes that disinterest comes down to political views rather than scientific views. It probably goes back to what my father and I discussed today about how partisanship was one of the worst things to happen to this country. George Washington wasn’t a fan of it. But, I digress. Perhaps through framing, we can find a way around the political pigheadedness and get people to pay attention to the science of it? Maybe in order to do so, we’ll have to do what Nisbet and Mooney said at the end of the article, which was to “avoid emphasizing the technical details of science”, because oftentimes it is the technical details that scare people away.

It was very interesting to see that this chapter was addressing the fact that people from low-income areas, often people of color, have limited access to science education. Thus, it is important to find ways to include them in the science discussion through informal settings. I was a bit surprised by the book’s preference for using the terminology of “dominant” and “nondominant groups” instead of saying “white” and “non-white” (except for in a couple of places). It seems a bit counterproductive to a discussion about race if you’re not going to name the races in question, but that’s neither here nor there. The Native Waters project seems like a very good way to introduce Native peoples to an informal science setting, by relating it directly to aspects of their culture. I was really happy to read the quote on page 120: “However, simply exposing individuals to the same learning environments may not result in equity, because the environments themselves are designed using the lens of the dominant culture.” This is so true! It’s impossible to simply transplant teaching practices for one group of people to another group of people, because cultural, ethnic, class, gender, and racial lines are drawn so deeply and are so divisive that people’s ways of thinking and learning are divided by these same lines as well. To integrate education by bringing educational practices from one place to another in the same exact form is an exercise in futility. I also liked how the text acknowledged that the term “outreach” can contribute to the feeling of excludedness felt by poor people/of color when it comes to education. The practice of feeling othered by institutions has been practiced historically throughout the history of the nation. Neither science nor education are exceptions.

The story of the Vietnamese outreach program at the museum was interesting to read about because it showed that while cultural difference is a difficult hurdle to jump in and of itself, an even more difficult one is economy, because, as an institution that needs money to exist, there’s a lot less you can do to make the event more affordable, especially since you have no control over another person’s finances. Nonetheless, the cultural additions, like bamboo, the round boat, and the rice sieve were a nice touch. In contrast, I wouldn’t say that the Making Models program for disabled people was necessarily a form of cultural expansion. That’s because I don’t believe it’s appropriate to call being disabled a culture per se. It’s definitely an identifier that results in the exclusion and underrepresentation of certain people, but it’s not what one would commonly call a culture. That being said, it’s good that a program exists with intentions to include disabled people. The fact that they chose staff who themselves were disabled is perfect for trying to find common ground between the educators and the educatees. This way there’s no sense of “talking down” or alienation between the two parties. 

Well, I live in the Jamaica Bay watershed area (Howard Beach), and I visit the area frequently, so a lot of the things that were in the reading were things that I already knew to some extent. I’ve seen the Diwali and Puja rituals take place, and I’ve actually collected the things that have washed up ashore (although, in retrospect, that’s probably not the most respectful thing I could have done). I’ve been to the Gateway Wildlife Preserve (some of the main path might still be destroyed as a result of Sandy), and I go kayaking at Sebago Kayak Club frequently, which launches out of Paedergat Basin. However, I didn’t know about the Santeria religion. I don’t really see many Afro-West Indians in the areas where I live except, I suppose, for myself. However, the actual Jamaica Bay Watershed extends farther than I originally thought. My original conception was that it included Howard Beach, Canarsie, Far Rockaway, and Broad Channel, but it’s more than that. It extends to Brooklyn neighborhoods that are more inland, like East New York, Brownsville, and Spring Creek. Obviously, West Indians live in all of these neighborhoods, so if I can broaden my perspective as to what counts as the Jamaica Bay Watershed, it’s not a stretch to acknowledge that I’m not alone in my West Indian-ness.

As mentioned earlier, Jamaica Bay’s used in a number of religious practices. Hindu and Voodoo rituals are a much-discussed example. This is evidentiary of the great Indo-Caribbean presence in the Richmond Hill and Jamaica areas, as well as the Afro-Caribbean presence in southeast Brooklyn. If one wants to look at culture as something broader than religious practice, maybe as an umbrella term for lifestyle, then maybe one could say that wildlife preservation, fishing, kayaking, boating, or other activities are part of culture, and the Bay is frequently used as a resource for these activities. The religious practices may be seen as detrimental to the environment, as their offerings tend to wash up ashore and are left their dirtying the beach (the beach under North Channel Bridge is especially dirty), but the other activities are intentionally designed such that they don’t compromise the natural environment or pollute, as far as I know. The speedboating scene may not be as good with that, but I don’t know for sure.

Well, I’m assuming indigenous knowledge is things that people already know about science or about their environment or something like that, based on where they were raised or what they know culturally. If that’s the case, then people could possibly know about Jamaica Bay if they’re indigenous to it, although this isn’t always the case. As we saw in the video, the woman claimed that she wished the national parks were more publicized so that people both in the area and out of it could know more about it and explore what it has to offer. This was a statement I agreed with and personally related to, because my father and I didn’t know much of anything about Jamaica Bay until his exercise needs gave us cause to start exploring it.  But people’s experiences and histories aren’t the same. For people who have a strong connection to their native culture or religion, they’ll know the rituals they perform and where it’s appropriate to do so. For example, the reading shows us that Pujas, which would normally be performed in rivers such as the Ganges, can be performed in Jamaica Bay to the same effect. This shows not only an innate knowledge of self, but an ability to adapt to one’s geographical situation.

While I come from two distinct cultures (Roman Catholic Sicilian and Christian Jamaican), I was not raised with either culture. My mother didn’t raise me with Italian language, and while she sometimes made traditional Italian dishes, we were very separated from our Italian family for personal reasons, and so my connection to that part of my culture was severed since before I was even born. On my Jamaican side, I live in a predominantly white neighborhood, and my father identifies as atheist and has limited-at-best communication with his (actually rather large) family. He came to America at a very young age, and the white supremacist imposition of “Americanization” on immigrant groups definitely affected his upbringing, so it affected mine as well. So on a cultural level, in that respect, we don’t connect to the Bay or to the environment. But, as a family and as citizens, we connect in numerous ways. My father and I go out kayaking or go to Floyd Bennett Field frequently. My family often goes to the Gateway Wildlife Preserve. We drive along the Belt Parkway to get to Gateway Mall. I often go exploring the beach beneath North Channel Bridge with my girlfriend. So I guess in that respect, I connect to the environment and with the Bay, but it doesn’t seem like a very deep connection, and it doesn’t feel very cultural.

I think it’s very important to remember that even though science and art are two very distinct fields of study that are pursued for very different objectives, they do not live in mutual exclusivity and therefore can intersect when willed to intersect. This is an example we see with Brainbow, which I thought was super cool to read about. Lichtman’s quote about how art has the purpose of teaching something new about the world or changing your perspective of the world exemplifies how art and science can be intertwined, if in a rather vague sense. Science’s purpose is to broaden the mind, and if art is meant to do the same, then they are at parallel purposes. I definitely appreciated the idea that the Brainbow experiment could represent something larger. On a deeper, more analytical level, one could argue that the addition of polychromy to the brain of a mouse shows that even a “less evolved” brain like that of a rodent can produce something beautiful, simply by virtue of existing. On a scientific level, it represents the level of brain activity apparent in a rodent and simply gives the data a more interesting aesthetic.

I know that the author of The Art of the Brain is trying to draw a distinction between the two disciplines of science and art, but isn’t it infinitely more interesting to study the many ways in which they intersect? From a filmmaker’s perspective, the physics of light and energy, and the chemistry of developing film are very important to the art style. But, as I read further, I find that this is obviously what the author is starting to realize. As she ponders through the methodology of artists and compares it to the methodology of scientists, she realizes that the lines are more blurred than he anticipated, and her argument for a distinction starts to blur as well.

The article Art As A Way Of Knowing seems to already be taking in stride that art and science can intersect in meaningful ways, but doesn’t delve into that way of thinking. It recounts a conference at the Exploratorium that gathered artists, scientists, and educators to discuss the way that art can be used as a mode of inquiry. The article discusses that even though art is no stranger to history and historically famous scientists, the use of art in learning and inquiry is often overlooked in common discourse. It goes on to discuss how art is vital to children’s upbringing and the formation of culture, but apart from that, the article doesn’t really go into much, or any, detail about how art is useful as a tool of scientific inquiry. Rather, the article reads more as an advertisement; a teaser for this conference that was held at the Exploratorium and is inviting the reader to do more research into the event.