Bridging the Gap


Screen Shot 2016-07-29 at 12.48.44 PMContributed by Leah Shizuru

Whooosh…

As I stood near the puka and gazed at the raw beauty of the steady flow of incoming ocean water spilling into the fishpond I listened to and appreciated the unmistakable sound of rushing water. What a thrilling experience for both the eyes and ears.

It was hard to fathom that the 80 ft gap directly in front of me would soon be closed. I pondered how the volunteers would ever complete this task when the water appeared to ebb and flow with such impressive speed. Though difficult to imagine, I was told that the enthusiastic bunch of men and women that worked daily on closing the puka, or gap, were making great progress with the help of a campaign to fund this labor-intensive project and raise awareness of the need to close the break in the wall in He’eia fishpondPani ka Puka.

Screen Shot 2016-07-29 at 12.48.12 PM

Bridging the gap would be a crucial step toward restoring this fishpond to its original state and enabling traditional aquaculture to ensue again. Ultimately, caretakers of He‘eia Fishpond would once again be able to raise enough herbivorous fish such as mullet (‘ama‘ama) and milkfish (‘awa) to provide for the community. Sustainability. Preservation. Tradition.

Bridging the gap

Benefits of traditional fishponds extend to research and education. That is how I became involved with He‘eia Fishpond. Last summer I had the opportunity  to intern at C-MORE (Center for Microbial Oceanography: Research and Education), a NSF Science and Technology Center, to work on a research project with Dr. Rosie Alegado looking at the microbial diversity in this coastal ecosystem. As part of my research, I ventured to the fishpond once a week with my two lab mates in order to gather water samples. These water samples were then taken back to the lab, filtered, and subjected to extraction of genomic DNA.

During these visits we got to know the Paepae o He’eia stewards (kia’i loko), learn about the history surrounding the fishpond and see the progress of the various other restoration

Screen Shot 2016-07-29 at 12.48.32 PM

Pictured left to right: Dr. Kiana Frank, Charles Beebe, Kyle Yoshida, and Ka’ena Lee

projects including the removal of mangrove from along the ancient fishpond wall  and invasive limu (algae) from in and around the pond. Our research aimed to complement these restoration efforts. Through a better understanding of the genetic makeup of microbes such as photosynthetic bacteria and microalgae that form the base of the food chain in the fishpond, better management policies could be implemented.

Our weekly visits to the fishpond also enabled us to see, first hand, the outreach efforts of the fishpond stewards. One evening during a 26-hour diurnal experiment in which we worked with Dr. Kiana Frank (who was analyzing microbial communities at different depths within the sediment as well as their sources of respiration and respiration rates), we interacted with a few children who were on the property.  

During the process of water filtration and processing of sediment cores we were surrounded by a group of inquisitive and eager children who wanted to help. Ka‘ena, who was 5 years old, asked, “What are you doing?” as he looked at the filtration apparatus, bewildered. My co-workers and I told him that we were filtering water that we had just collected in order to study the microbes in the fishpond. Ka‘ena looked puzzled and we could see from the confused, yet still-interested look on his face that we needed to add to our answer and perhaps simplify it. I quickly began to think of a way to re-explain this so that he could understand it. Thankfully, my labmate, Mikela, interjected, “Oh, ok! So you know when you’re finished cooking spaghetti noodles and you have to drain out the water?” Ka‘ena nodded. “How do you get rid of the water that you cook your pasta in,” Mikela asked. He described a strainer and Mikela replied in an encouraging tone, “Yes, exactly, a strainer. So what this is [as she pointed to the filtration apparatus with the filter membrane] is like the strainer and the microbes are like the spaghetti noodles that we want to keep.” What a perfect analogy to give to this young child! Ka‘ena beamed at Mikela and responded, “Oh, I see!” We followed Mikela’s lead and continued to answer the other children’s questions in a simplistic, analogous manner. What a treat it was to be able to answer their thought-provoking questions.

800px-Fish_Ponds_at_Honoruru,_Oahu,_1836,_by_John_Murray,_after_Robert_Dampier

Illustration of Oahu fishponds by Robert Dampier, 1825. (Wikipedia Commons)

It was in that moment that I realized how this summer had come full circle: I was working for an organization that, in its very title, seeks to educate. I gleaned from the knowledge of Dr. Alegado and Dr. Frank and in turn was able to pass on that knowledge to these young kids. Not only had I learned more science this summer, but I had formed a deeper appreciation for my culture, for the faithful caretakers at He‘eia fishpond, and for the brilliant scientists (like those at C-MORE) who seek to better understand the environment in which we live. I saw the value of perpetuating knowledge from one generation to the next.

It was then that I understood the necessity of bridging the gap.

Hawaiian fishponds, also known as loko i‘a, were traditional forms of aquaculture that served as a dependable protein source for ancient Hawaiians. The oldest fishpond in Hawai‘i was built about 1200 years ago. By the 1900s there were only 99 of the 360 built in the islands that were operable. 


Leah Shizuru attends the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa and will earn a B.S. in Microbiology Spring 2017. As a part-time lifeguard with Ocean Safety, she enjoys spending her free-time outside with her friends and family— surfing, hiking, swimming, paddling, and bodyboarding are just a few of her favorite hobbies. 

Leah would like to thank Yoshimi Rii, Hi’ilei Kawelo, Keli’i Kotubetey, and Dr. Rosie Alegado for their oversight and feedback on this blog post and would also like to thank Dr. Alegado for the opportunity she has to work in her lab.           

Inspiring community college students to pursue a career in ocean and earth sciences

jwren

Contributed by Johanna Wren

Ever wonder what questions community college STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics) students ask when taken on a tour of a research vessel?

“Are all beds the same size?”, posed a five-foot tall student standing next to a 6-foot fellow student, as they inspected the state rooms in the R/V Ka‘imikai-O-Kanaloa.

Or, one of my personal favorites: “Can I drive the boat!?”

Each summer, a score of Kapi‘olani Community College (KCC) students meet every day for six weeks to immerse themselves in math and other STEM subjects as part of the KCC STEM Summer Bridge program, HāKilo II. For the past three summers, C-MORE and SOEST from the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa have been invited to spend one week with these students, introducing them to ocean and earth science careers through hands-on experiences.

HāKilo II students on a field trip to R/V KOK at Snug Harbor. Photo credit: Heidi Needham.

HāKilo II students on a field trip to R/V KOK at Snug Harbor. Photo credit: Heidi Needham.

The theme throughout the week is Learning by Doing, so we embark on field trips, engage in career exercises, and interact with graduate students and professionals in STEM fields. Our goal is to help the students discover their passions, and urge them to follow those passions in their professional careers. I first got involved with HaKilo II’s SOEST week as a graduate research assistant with the C-MORE Education office in 2013. I have since helped to organize and lead the event each summer, as the intensive week of career exploration has become one of my favorite summer events.

Learning By Doing: Field trips!

“Bet you didn’t know you got a mouthful of critters every time you get in the ocean!” said peer-mentor Dan to a student while looking at what they caught in a plankton tow.

Learning by Doing is done best outside of a classroom, so we take the students on multiple fieldtrips. For example, during these field trips, students figure out how the Hawaiian Islands were formed, and why hillsides and surrounding ocean look the way they do. Seeing first hand – and trying to figure out why – there is coral wedged between layers of basalt high above sea level, turns sea level rise from an abstract concept into a tangible one. Learning by doing, seeing and feeling is so much more powerful than being told how the world works.

Student and instructor during a geology field trip, talking about the formation of O‘ahu and sea level change at Lāna‘i lookout. Photo credit: Johanna Wren

Student and instructor during a geology field trip, talking about the formation of O‘ahu and sea level change at Lāna‘i lookout. Photo credit: Johanna Wren

Even though we have visited some of the same sites every year, there are always new things to discover, and students never fail to impress and surprise me with their curiosity and insightfulness. I really enjoy showing students what lives in the clear and seemingly empty waters near the beach. After conducting a plankton tow, while looking at the copepods and other animals in the water, students often wonder if they swallow all of those animals when they go swimming. It’s really nice to see even the most intractable student, who wouldn’t part from her smartphone for more than a minute, get excited about the land and sea around her.

Learning By Doing: Experience as a near-peer mentor

“Let’s ask Daren, he knows everything.” – A commonly overheard statement by a group of students when they ran into a problem they couldn’t solve.

Spending a summer studying subjects that often take students outside of their comfort zone can be intimidating and scary to many. At the same time, there is nothing more inspiring than connecting with an individual you identify with, who shares your background or interest. This is where the near-peer mentors like Dan and Daren come in. Each year, a handful of senior KCC students, many of whom participated in HāKilo II in previous years, act as peer-mentors and play a pivotal role in inspiring and engaging students. Students can identify with a mentor who went through the program just last year, and who comes from a similar cultural and/or academic background. The students are less reserved with their questions, and the peer-mentors themselves develop into teachers with enthusiasm and confidence.

Students in HāKilo II learning about seagliders, and how to combine an interest in engineering with a love for the ocean, from Sarah Searson. Photo credit: Johanna Wren

Students in HāKilo II learning about seagliders, and how to combine an interest in engineering with a love for the ocean, from Sarah Searson, a sea-going marine technician. Photo credit: Johanna Wren

I especially like witnessing the progression from student one year to peer-mentor the following year. Watching them go from shy and unsure students to outgoing, empowered, and confident in their new role as peer-mentor is motivating. And what I always find remarkable is how humble the peer-mentors are: they all have an ‘if I can do it, you can do it’ attitude. Peer-mentors take on the roles of a leader, educator, and mentor, and they not only inspire the students, they inspire me as well.

Learning by Doing: Networking with people paid to pursue their passion

“Man, that’s the closest I’ve been to an astronaut!” said one student after talking to a geology professor working on the Curiosity Mission with NASA.

Instead of reciting statistics and course requirements, which often become overwhelming, we introduce the students to career professionals in a variety of fields, from surf forecasters to ocean engineers. Students “talk story” with 20 different professionals, hearing – and often seeing – firsthand what that career entails and what kind of education they need to get there.

HāKilo II students talking with a career professional, Kimball Millikan, about wave buoys and ocean engineering. Photo credit: Johanna Wren.

HāKilo II students talking with a career professional, Kimball Millikan, about wave buoys and ocean engineering. Photo credit: Johanna Wren.

Once students realize that many of the professionals they talked to get paid to surf, dive or hike (common hobbies among the students), their enthusiasm skyrockets. The type of questions they ask changes from general (e.g. “What kind of degree do you have?”) to specific (e.g. “What subject would you recommend that I focus on to get your job?”). The dedication that the professionals show not only to their profession but also to sharing their passion with young scientists is profound. At the end of the week, we ask the professionals to give one take home message to the students, and it is universally: “You work too much not to love what you do.”

The best part about this program for me each year is when students discover that their interests don’t have to stay hobbies, but that they can become their careers. A few weeks ago, I ran into one of the students who participated in HāKilo II two years ago and was a peer-mentor last year. When I first met her in 2013 she intended to major in Nursing. Since then, she has changed her focus, transferred to UH Mānoa’s Dept. of Oceanography Global Environmental Sciences program, and participated in marine biology and oceanography summer research experiences both in the U.S. and abroad. She is a true inspiration and role model, and I’m so honored to have had a small part in helping her find her passion.


Johanna Wren is a PhD candidate in the Department of Oceanography in the Toonen-Bowen (ToBo) Lab at Hawai‘i Institute of Marine Biology (HIMB) at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. Her research focuses on larval dispersal and population connectivity of reef fish using a biophysical modeling approach. She is interested in identifying biophysical drivers around the Hawaiian Islands that shape the connectivity patterns seen in reef fish communities today.

 

To Jargon or not to Jargon

e_profile

Contributed by Elisha Wood-Charlson

Jargon, as defined by Google, consists of “special words or expressions that are used by a particular profession or group and are difficult for others to understand.” So, you can imagine why jargon is a natural target for science communication training and workshops. Hey, science jargon even has its own April Fool’s spoof article.

Well, as it turns out, defining jargon and identifying jargon create a bit of inherent irony. A word is only considered ‘jargon’ when it isn’t well understood, so when are science words ‘jargon’ and when are they not? Google’s definition suggests that jargon can be specific to a group, and not necessarily restricted to a technical field. In addition, Google gives the entertaining synonym of “slang”, which begs the question – are scientists actually speaking our own form of “Science Jive”?

One of the most challenging parts of science communication is understanding your audience well enough to choose vocabulary that will communicate your science accurately while still getting your message across. Therefore, we need to start thinking about our “Science Jive” in layers. How far removed is our target audience from our science field?

The Russian Doll of Science Jive
Nesting Dolls (Photo Credit: James Lee)

Nesting Dolls (Photo Credit: James Lee)

As with all science communication efforts, you must first understand your audience(s) before you determine how much jargon you can layer on. The smallest, innermost ring is your peer group (you are the doll in the center). Your peer audience will include members of your lab group, your collaborators, and even your fellow participants in a domain-specific session at a conference. Almost everything in this ring may be considered jargon to a general audience, who resides in the largest, outermost doll layer. And, although some of the jargon translations from the far inner ring to the far outer ring may be the most challenging (discussed later), the dolls in the middle are where things get really interesting. How well do you know your audience two rings removed? For example, I recently attended the 2015 AAAS conference in San Jose, CA. Having never attended an AAAS conference before, I was surprised at the breadth of science topics presented. They ranged from looking at the effect of epigenetics on the brain to 3-D printing of 4-D mathematical models to microbial oceanography, my personal ring of Science Jive. So, how do you know when to jargon and when not to jargon?

The best way to figure out your audience is to understand where they exist in the science communication space. Do they read popular science articles, like those in Scientific American or Discover? If so, getting familiar with those journals (if you aren’t already) will help you determine which jargon level you should speak to. For example, in situations where “addition of viral concentrates resulted in decreased photosynthetic activity” might not work, something like “after adding more viruses, the cultures started dying” might be perfect. From another perspective, if you are writing something for a government office, you might consider getting in touch with whomever is in charge of science-related issues. Depending on their background, they may only be one or two jargon rings away. Or, if their background isn’t in the sciences, they may comfortably reside in the far outer general public ring.

Communicating Science Jive to the Outer Doll

Have you tried explaining your research to a family member? Megumi Chikamoto had a great post (4 Feb 2015) on Real Science at SOEST! blog about jargon, relating to her 7 year old son and making her message more understandable to a broader audience.

Translating jargon takes a bit of trial and error. Pick a prominent jargon word in your specialization and start trying out alternative vocabulary with the lab down the hall, fellow students at a departmental seminar, or with other science departments that meet up for pick-up soccer games after work. In the end, you may still end up with a word(s) that can’t be captured at the level of accuracy you require. Another strategy is to develop an analogy for your research. Can you capture the dispersal model or biogeochemical flux pathway in a metaphor or image? For example, Donn Viviani, a graduate student in C-MORE, is able to transform his research into the simple process of making a cup of tea!

In the end, only you can decide when to jargon and when not to jargon, and it will take practice. However, there should also be a collective effort by every science specialization to establish some translated terms that are acceptable replacements for their domain. In some areas, such as climate change, this is already happening. But we shouldn’t wait for a social movement to motivate us! Scientists are people too, and we should be making an effort to communicate using language that can be understood by our audiences.

 

Other resources
Scientific Jargon, Thompson Writing Program handout by Jordana Rosenberg 2012
Terms that have different meanings for scientists and the public, log post by Andrew David Thaler at Southern Fried Science
Words Matter, AGU blog post by Callan Bentley


Elisha M. Wood-Charlson has a PhD in marine science, and has worked in a variety of research areas including coral symbioses, marine viruses, and viruses in corals. She is currently testing out life as a science communicator and is finding the creative latitude enjoyable. She works for the Center for Microbial Oceanography: Research and Education (C-MORE) as an educator, designing #scicomm training for graduate students, postdocs, and early career researchers (check out the new Science Communication Portfolio training guide on the SOEST website!). She is also managing the EarthCube Oceanography and Geobiology Environmental ‘Omics (ECOGEO) Research Coordination Network (RCN), which demands structured communication between the scientists asking the difficult ‘omics questions and the bioinformaticians making the tools to help answer them.

Bedtime Science Stories

Contributed by Megumi Chikamoto

Every night, while sitting beside my 7-year-old son’s bedside, I ask him one question.

“What did you do today?”
“Work,” he replies, briefly. Sometimes he says, “math,” or “recess.” Some days, he turns to ask me the same question.
“Mommy, what did you do today?”

To answer his question, I try to explain one of my current research projects in detail. When I talk about the basic theory or hypothesis of my scientific topics, my son is really interested. Specifically, I have succeeded in catching his attention by talking about the drastic changes in marine plankton species that occurred around 15,000 years ago. After listening to my explanation, he comes up with his own hypothesis, which he tells me excitedly. This conversation with my son is much like brainstorming with my colleagues, and I am impressed that my son understands the big concepts of my research. But one night, I decided to take it one step further by explaining the modeling concept of my research. He fell asleep before I finished my story.

I often face this problem when I talk about modeling simulation to the general public, like my friends or relatives, not just my son. People, especially those living in Hawaii, surrounded by the ocean, tend to have a stereotypical image of oceanographers, thinking that we go out to sea for our research. I am an oceanographer; yet, I do not go out to sea. Instead, I sit down in front of a computer, peer at a screen, and write programming codes for over 6 hours everyday, 5 days a week. When I explain this to my friends and relatives, this unexpected research style seems to intrigue them, and they ask me to tell them more about my research. My research approach is using an Earth system model that is a numerical tool for calculating time evolution of the global climate system. The model calculates the atmosphere and ocean phenomena, such as wind blows, ocean currents and precipitation. Furthermore, the model includes components of marine ecosystems such as tiny plankton. My target is to elucidate marine ecosystem processes that link to climate change. But when I describe a model in such a way, my audience, like my son, loses interest quickly. This is one of the reasons why I want to improve my skill of public speech.

map_chl

Map of present-day phytoplankton biomass in chlorophyll concentration in an Earth System model. Image Credit: M. Chikamoto

One thing I realize now is how much jargon my explanation contains! Due to the specialized words, my audience might hardly understand the basic concepts and their attention is lost. Generally, people prefer to relate to a personal story, or sometimes an emotional one like in a novel; no one cares about the specialized issues (if someone is very interested in the specialized issues, he/she might be close to being the expert!). I know now that I should avoid describing my research like a scientific presentation, which is what I have done so far. Rather, I need to focus on the storytelling during an interactive conversation. Without more ado, I will try storytelling.

Why do we simulate?

Just think about this. If you take photographs in sequence with a camera and then want to know what is happening between the photos, what do you do? You might convert these intermittent images to an image sequence by taking the gaps and try to predict what happened in between in your brain. I do similar things in my research. Oceanographers monitor signals of ocean phenomena when going to sea, but getting the data is like one photo snapshot at a time. In order to display an image sequence like you do in your brain, I simulate it using a computer model instead. The model simulation in the computer calculates the time evolution of the Earth environment. By analyzing the simulated results, I can know what is going on in the environment. In fact, I use many kinds of models for today’s environment as well as for the past or the future. Through past, present and future climate simulations, I want to know mechanisms of the earth systems – how the earth systems of several different rhythms play harmony.

Trying again

One night, I decided to try explaining model simulation to my son again.

“I simulate the Earth environment using a computer and study what is going on in the atmosphere and the ocean. When I was a college student, computers were very slow and we were waiting to finish the calculation for several months. But nowadays, technology has developed tremendously and computer speed is much faster than it was in the previous era. For example, my computer can finish a 500-year-long simulation while you are sleeping at night. In this way, we can go back to the past using very long simulations, even as far back as to the Ice Age. Using a computer, I can study all of the past, the present, and the future climate.”

“That’s great!” my son said, admiringly.

—————————————————————————————————————————

chikamoto_m

Megumi O. Chikamoto is an affiliate researcher in SOEST and a postdoctoral researcher at International Pacific Research Center. After getting her Ph.D in Atmosphere and Ocean Science at Hokkaido University in Japan, she has worked at the University of Minnesota, the University of Tokyo, the Japan Agency of Marine Science and Technology, and then the current position.  Her research focuses on marine ecosystem response to climate variability and changes in the past, current, and future.