I’ve always loved science. I even love the word. Those aptitude tests we all take in school also knew I loved the natural sciences. In high school, Biology came easy for me, and I took it all in (thank you, Mrs. Hill). It continued into my community college experience in Biology for Majors (thanks, Dr. Fleming). Then came my time at a big university where I even retook biology classes as electives because I loved the subject matter (thanks, Dr. Schwartz). As a pre-med, I was expected to take a lot of life science course work, and I gladly did. Then came Biochem, the upper-level weed-out class. I was young and immature so, needless to say, I did not take it too seriously. It showed in my grade.
At this time, science classes were still a set of facts needed to be memorized for the upcoming exam. No way to approach a life-long passion. The life sciences came easy and all the textbooks over the years made it seem easy. The textbooks laid out the facts in front of me; plain and simple. If I had a question, the answer was right there (after a gaze at the index pages). Biochem became my nemesis. I loved it, but it did not return the favor.
Then, it hit me (thanks, Dr. Koontz). These are not static facts. Everything is connected creating a mesh of life sustaining processes. The revelations did not stop there, however. I was fortunate enough to win a summer internship at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory working on hydrogen evolution from spinach photosystem I. This was my first lab experience…ever. The notion of science being easy and quick went out the window soon after beginning. Science, real science, was hard and time-consuming. Science was frustration and troubleshooting, and I loved it.
The only way to truly understand the essence of what science is and how discoveries are made is by performing the work necessary to obtain new knowledge. The discovery timeline needs to be emphasized in science classrooms. Discovery and innovation are not immediate. Hard work and perseverance are vital. I would love to start a page at Sci of Relief entitled Science Timelines. The truth is much more astounding than the myth of science being a series of Eureka! moments.
Embarrassingly, I have to admit something. Despite my overwhelming love of science and passion for teaching science to others, I grew up not knowing whom Carl Sagan was. Back story: I grew up in East Tennessee, the son of a mechanic and a bookkeeper. I never even opened one of Sagan’s books until my 30s. I must say, it was my loss.
I have had the privilege of listening to the stories from those who knew Carl Sagan personally. He sounded like such a sweet, endearing person that the world desperately needed and unfortunately still does. By today’s standards, Sagan was a cosmic anomaly harnessing the knowledge from learning, the oration of a great leader, and the passion to spread the wonders of the universe to the masses.
Since the premier of the new production of Cosmos, listening to everyone talk of Sagan makes him sound like a god, but he was something even more great. Carl Sagan was a genuine, compassionate human being. He saw the big picture, even though it is too often clouded by politics and special interests, as what it was; our collective, solitary home among the vast cosmos. Our home has problems that must be addressed and these problems will continue to grow without intervention. Sagan knew a curious, enlightened society could be a force for change.
I wish I had known Carl Sagan, knowing how he has touched the lives of those who encountered him. Neil deGrasse Tyson has had enormous shoes to fill by assuming the role of navigator through the Cosmos. It is our turn to do our part as science communicators to ensure Sagan’s legacy rekindled is not in vain.
Everyone talks about how scientists should give back, outreach, blog, tweet, tumble, etc., as if it is some kind of charity work. What about science writers and science communicators? Are they to sit idly by while scientists (who are more worried about where the next grant will come) fumble through trying to communicate their “latest discoveries and innovations”? I think science writers should also give back, outreach, blog, etc., but not the way you think. The growing group of science writers should outreach to scientists as a form of charity. We all know they (most of anyway) need our help. When was the last time, writer, you emailed some of the top scientists in your passionate field to ask if there was any way you could help communicate to everyone what exciting new findings they have that most people wouldn’t know about?
This is all tongue in cheek dribbles I’m writing. But, I am trying to get a point across. As presented by scicurious, professors and grad students have a lot on their plate. It is about time we engage them.
Disclaimer: I’m very new at science writing since I just graduated with the Ph.D. in August 2012. I’m naive but optimistic (about this anyway).