Stability and Change in Science Education -- Meeting Basic Learning Needs : Homeostasis and Novelty in Teaching and Learning [1 ed.] 9789004391635, 9789004391628

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Stability and Change in Science Education – Meeting Basic Learning Needs

New Directions in Mathematics and Science Education Series Editors Wolff-Michael Roth (University of Victoria, Canada) Lieven Verschaffel (University of Leuven, Belgium)

Editorial Board Angie Calabrese-Barton (Michigan State University, USA) Pauline Chinn (University of Hawaii, USA) Lyn English (Queensland University of Technology) Brian Greer (Portland State University, USA) Terezinha Nunes (University of Oxford, UK) Peter Taylor (Curtin University, Perth, Australia) Dina Tirosh (Tel Aviv University, Israel) Manuela Welzel (University of Education, Heidelberg, Germany) Qiaoping Zhang (The Chinese University of Hong Kong)

Volume 33

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/ndms

Stability and Change in Science Education – Meeting Basic Learning Needs Homeostasis and Novelty in Teaching and Learning

Edited by

Phyllis Katz and Lucy Avraamidou

leiden | boston

All chapters in this book have undergone peer review. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Katz, Phyllis, 1946- editor. | Avraamidou, Lucy, editor. Title: Stability and change in science education-- meeting basic learning needs : homeostasis and novelty in teaching and learning / edited by Phyllis Katz and Lucy Avraamidou. Description: Boston : Brill Sense, [2019] | Series: New directions in mathematics and science education ; volume 33 | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Identifiers: LCCN 2018047727 (print) | LCCN 2018053168 (ebook) | ISBN 9789004391635 (ebook) | ISBN 9789004391611 (pbk. : alk. paper) | ISBN 9789004391628 (hardback : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Science--Study and teaching. | Educational change. Classification: LCC Q181 (ebook) | LCC Q181 .S685 2019 (print) | DDC 507.1--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018047727

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill-typeface.

issn 2352-7234 isbn 978-90-04-39161-1 (paperback) isbn 978-90-04-39162-8 (hardback) isbn 978-90-04-39163-5 (e-book) Copyright 2019 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Hes & De Graaf, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Rodopi, Brill Sense, Hotei Publishing, mentis Verlag, Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh and Wilhelm Fink Verlag. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Contents Acknowledgements vii List of Figures and Tables viii Notes on Contributors x

PART 1 Theoretical Considerations 1 Introduction Meeting Basic Needs 3 Phyllis Katz and Lucy Avraamidou 2 Meeting Basic Needs History of Homeostasis and Novelty as Concepts and Terms Relevant to Science Education 8 Phyllis Katz and Lucy Avraamidou 3 Novelty A Phenomenological Perspective 19 Wolff-Michael Roth

PART 2 Continual Science Learning 4 Leveraging Families’ Shared Experiences to Connect to Disciplinary Content in Ecology Preliminary Results from the stem Pillars Museum-Library-University Partnership 41 Heather Toomey Zimmerman, Lucy R. McClain and Michele Crowl 5 When Stability Isn’t the Baseline Traumatized Children and Science Education 61 Marilynne Eichinger 6 Homeostasis and Novelty as Concepts for Science Journalism A Re-Interpretation of the Selection and Depiction of Scientific Issues in the Media 85 Lars Guenther

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7 Making the Unfamiliar Familiar Zoo and Aquarium Educators Leveraging Novelty and Curiosity 103 Joy Kubarek

PART 3 Systemic Change 8 Regional Networks and Ecosystem Learning 113 Bart van de Laar

PART 4 Formal Education 9 Teacher Preparation Embraces Homeostasis and Novelty Expanding Teacher Candidates’ Learning Ecologies through a Short-Term Study Abroad 137 Lara Smetana 10 Using Photovoice as a Novel Approach to Developing an Anthropogenic Impact Homeostasis Model 153 Patricia Patrick 11 Maintaining Homeostasis While Embracing Novelty Students’ Questions as Agents of Student’s Voice in the Science Classroom 183 Hani Swirski and Ayelet Baram-Tsabari 12 ‘What Do I Like about Science-Related Activities?’ Participatory Indicators Addressing Students’ Motivations and Needs When Learning Science 201 María Heras and Isabel Ruiz-Mallén

PART 5 Conclusions 13 Synthesis and Recommendations 231 Lucy Avraamidou and Phyllis Katz Index 241

Acknowledgements We thank our universities for their support. We also want to thank Brill | Sense for bringing this material to those who are engaged in science education research, creativity, and policy. The authors in this volume were very thoughtful as they addressed their work with the perspective we described for them. We are appreciative. We also thank our families and colleagues for their encouragement, as always.

Figures and Tables Figures 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4

4.1

4.2

4.3 5.1 8.1 10.1 10.2 10.3 10.4 10.5 11.1 12.1 12.2 13.1

A neon gas discharge lamp of the kind used in school physics classes to test for the presence of static electrical charges 22 Puzzle of the kind frequently in a variety of social situations: “Do you see it?” 25 One version of a familiar bistable image 26 A chaos-theoretic model for morphogenesis, the genesis of new forms. New forms emerge as λ values are increased. A bifurcation corresponds to a point of crisis because it simultaneously belongs to two, and is the limit of, very different regimes 30 Families engaged in the weather workshop during a library program that had people reflect on their prior experiences with weather in their rural community to make inferences to predict the weather with forecasting tools like a barometer to measure air pressure 48 One family’s representation of parts of a flower where the family dissected a flower, taped the parts of a flower to paper, and labeled the parts of a flower’s reproductive system that are connected to pollination (e.g., stamen, pistil, sepal) 50 One family’s yellow and green flower drawing in their science notebook provided, which was provided by the STEM Pillars program 53 Maslow’s graphic pyramid 67 Possible partners and third parties in a learning network, by sector 125 Picture of a river ferry 164 Picture of a vacant lot 164 Picture of cigarettes 164 Picture of a bag of fertilizer 171 Anthropogenic impact homeostasis model 176 Average interest levels by popularity, 2016 190 Outline of the assessment framework applied in PERFORM, based on RRI 204 Self-regulated learning: Cyclic phases and main processes and strategies (based on Zimmerman, 2002, and Panadero & Alonso-Tapia, 2014) 206 Change: Considering homeostasis and novelty 237

Figures and Tables

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Tables 4.1

8.1 10.1 10.2 10.3 10.4 10.5 11.1 11.2

11.3

12.1

Personally-relevant family learning connects community-oriented workshops in libraries, novel STEM content, and shared family experiences to support intergenerational science and engineering learning 47 Impact of a regional network, overall, and short term to long term 127 Student population by school 157 Photograph and journal entry themes and subthemes with journal entry examples 159 Phenotypic and genotypic factors and components of the anthropogenic impact homeostasis model 167 Number of photographs by gender/race and theme (N=3926) 169 Community location (rural/suburban/urban) and negative and positive nthropogenic impact (N=3926) 170 Examples of questions mapped into the curriculum 188 Ten most frequently asked questions in 2014 (numbers in parentheses indicate frequency). Questions popular for both genders are marked in grey. White background marks questions popular for only one gender 193 Ten most popular questions for boys and girls in 2016 (numbers in parentheses indicate ranking of the same question in 2007). Questions selected by both genders are marked in grey. White background marks questions that were popular only among one gender 194 Participatory indicators identified from students’ responses in the two countries: Quotations from students’ post-its, indicators and connection to RRI assessment criteria and learning outcomes or process requirements and to SRL processes and strategies 212

Notes on Contributors Lucy Avraamidou is a Rosalind Franklin Fellow and an Associate Professor of Science Education at the Institute for Science Education and Communication at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands. She holds a PhD in Curriculum and Instruction with a specialization in Science Education from the Pennsylvania State University in the USA. She was born and raised in Cyprus where she worked as an Assistant/Associate Professor of Science Education at the University of Nicosia (2006–2016) and at the Open University Cyprus (2015–2016). She also worked as a Research Associate at the NSF-funded Center of Informal Learning and Schools (CILS) at King’s College London. Her research is associated with theoretical and empirical explorations of beginning elementary teachers’ learning and development with the use of qualitative, interpretive approaches. Her research interests are centered around the following two areas: science identity and out-of-school science learning. E-mail: [email protected] Michele Crowl has a Bachelor’s Degree in Astrophysics from Penn State, a Master’s Degree in Informal Science Learning from Oregon State, and a PhD in Science Education from Penn State. She is currently the Executive Director of Discovery Space of Central PA, a science center that she helped to open in 2011. Her research focuses on ways in which informal science educators engage preschoolers in astronomy and, separately, how families learn science together. Her agenda at Discovery Space has been to create a wider awareness of career options to elementary and middle school students in rural communities through unique, multi-day programming. E-mail: [email protected] Marilynne Eichinger has been an active supporter of hands-on learning throughout her career as both a mother and museum professional. Graduating magna-cum-laude from Boston University with an emphasis on anthropology, she then received a master’s degree in psychology from Michigan State University. In 1972 Marilynne founded Impression 5 Science Museum in Lansing, Michigan. In 1985 she left to become president of the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, one of the nation’s oldest and most renowned science centers. There she spearheaded a new 250,000 sq. ft facility and workshop, acquired a submarine from the Navy, and installed a large format theater. Under her presidency she cultivated a traveling exhibit service, and education programs incorporating those living in

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poverty. She worked with Native-American, African-American, and Hispanic groups to develop activities to meet their needs. With assistance from 22 national museums, she left OMSI in 1995 to establish the Museum Tour Catalog in order to bring educational material to over 2 million households. Her company adopted an elementary school that served low-income families. The business sold in December, 2013. She is an active blogger and painter. Marilynne is the author of Lives of Museum Junkies-the Story of America’s Hands-On Education Movement. She is completing a second book, Over the Sticker Bush Fence, about homeless and runaway youth. E-mail: [email protected] Lars Guenther received his Doctorate at the Institute of Communication Research at Friedrich Schiller University in Jena, Germany, where he worked in research projects funded by the German Research Foundation (DFG) in the special priority program 1409 ‘Science and the Public’. Currently, he holds a research and lecturing position as Research Associate at the Institute of Communication Research at Friedrich Schiller University in Jena and as a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Research Chair in Science Communication at Stellenbosch University in South Africa. His research interests focus on science and health journalism, as well as the public communication of risks and (un)certainty. His interest in science education stems from a science journalistic point of view; hence, he is interested in informal learning contexts in which science journalists inform audiences about new developments in science. E-mail: [email protected] Maria Heras is a sustainability researcher at the Institute of Environmental Science and Technology (ICTA-UAB) and a participatory theatre practitioner. She holds a PhD, through which she explored the potential of participatory theatre to open-up spaces of learning for sustainability with young people. Her interests in education focus on embodied critical pedagogies, environmental education, and the potentials of Art/Science hybrid experiences for social learning processes and transdisciplinary dialogues towards sustainability transformations. She is currently working in the PERFORM H2020 research project exploring the impact of participatory educational processes based in performing arts in students’ learning about and engagement in science. As a theatre practitioner, she’s been trained in the techniques of Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed, social theatre, experimental theatre, poetic body and corporeal mime. E-mail: [email protected]

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Phyllis Katz was the founding Executive Director of Hands On Science and Hands On Science Outreach (HOSO). These were community afterschool science programs which provided science explorations as an enrichment option. She served as PI/PD on NSF and other grants to grow the program nationally and in other locations. After more than two decades and earning a doctorate, she became the Director of Research and Evaluation. In 1999, she received the National Science Teachers Association (NSTA) Award for Distinguished Informal Science Educator. She worked on the Advisory Board for the Magic School Bus TV series and has written science books for children and articles for adults on science teaching and learning. Currently, she is a Research Associate at the University of Maryland. For over thirty years, she has been an advocate for informal science education at the NSTA and at NARST, an international science researchers association, presenting at many conferences, and remains active in creating materials and promoting science and mathematics. In recent years, she has been interested in visual data, both drawings and photographs, as engaging ways of stimulating science and mathematics participation. After many years in the field, she has been thinking and writing about the trends she has observed. She lives and works alongside her husband Victor, a mathematics historian. They have three grown children and enjoy exploring science with their grandchildren. E-mail: [email protected] Joy Kubarek is a Senior Research Associate with PEER Associates, an education research and evaluation consulting firm. Joy has 15 years of experience working in the science education field. She has experience in instruction, leadership, research and evaluation. Joy holds a B.S. in Biology, a M.Ed. with a focus on environmental education, and a PhD in Science Education from the Illinois Institute of Technology. She has conducted scientific field research and led research expeditions but the bulk of her career has focused on research and evaluation of science education. She founded the Learning Planning & Evaluation department at Shedd Aquarium in Chicago and later moved on to become Vice President of Learning at the aquarium, strategically guiding both the programmatic and evaluation functions of education at the aquarium. Her most recent research focused on the evaluation practices of zoos and aquariums around their teacher professional development programs. Joy has presented on her work nationally and internationally, and remains active in a number of professional associations including the National Association for Research in Science Teaching (NARST), the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA), the Visitor Studies Association (VSA), and the National Science Teachers Association (NSTA). E-mail: [email protected]

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Lucy R. McClain has a Master’s Degree in Science Education and a PhD in Learning, Design, and Technology. She is currently the Science and Education Program Director at Penn State University’s Shaver’s Creek Environmental Center, where she oversees the center’s K-12 school curriculum outreach and the Shaver’s Creek graduate assistant program for Penn State graduate students. She is an instructor in both Penn State’s Recreation, Park, and Tourism Management (RPTM) department and Science Education (SCIED) program. Her research interests include informal science learning and environmental education experiences for youth, family science learning processes in the outdoors, mobile-based learning designs for outdoor spaces. E-mail: [email protected] Patricia Patrick is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Counseling, Foundations, and Leadership at Columbus State University. She received her PhD from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Her research focuses on the importance of communicating science to the public and the relationship between communication and science literacy. She is specifically interested in family learning in informal environments. She teaches an online assessment and evaluation workshop for informal science educators. She is the Editor and a chapter author for Preparing Informal Science Educators: Perspectives from Science Communication and Education (2017) and authored the book Zoo Talk (2013). She is developing an online Masters of Education in Informal Science Teaching and Learning at Columbus State University in cooperation with Oxbow Meadows Environmental Learning Center. She has given informal science education workshops at Chester Zoo, Fundación Temaiken (Buenos Aires, Argentina), Humboldt University (Berlin, Germany), Museum für Naturkunde (Berlin, Germany), San Diego Zoo Global, University of Bengkulu (Bengkulu, Indonesia), and University College London (London, England). She is focused on international collaborations. Currently, she is working with Aceng Ruyani at the University of Bengkulu in Indonesia to develop student programs. E-mail: [email protected] Wolff-Michael Roth is Lansdowne Professor of Applied Cognitive Science in the Faculty of Education at the University of Victoria. After finishing a Master’s degree in physics in atomic physics (Würzburg, Germany, 1979), he became a science, mathematics, and computer science teacher in the Canadian north. In 1987, he obtained a PhD degree from the College of Science and Technology at the University of Southern Mississippi investigating the development of

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adult reasoning. Returning to head a science department and teach physics at Appleby College (Oakville, Ontario), he developed a line of research in open-inquiry situations that provide students learning opportunities by designing and conducting their own research. He began his university career at Simon Fraser University (Burnaby, Canada) and then took his current position in 1997. His research broadly focused on knowing and learning across the lifespan, from early childhood to adulthood, with a special focus on science, mathematics, and technology. In recent years, much of his empirical research was situated in the workplace (aviation, software development, car manufacturing); and his theoretical work shifted to further developing cultural-historical approaches (e.g., the in education little-known works of the late Lev S. Vygotsky or of George Herbert Mead). His latest books include Concrete Human Psychology (Routledge, 2017) and Building, Dwelling, Thinking: A Post-Constructivist Perspective on Education, Learning, and Development (Sense, 2018). E-mail: [email protected] Isabel Ruiz-Mallén is a ‘Ramón y Cajal’ senior research fellow at the IN3-Universitat Oberta de Catalunya (UOC), and an associated researcher at ICTA-Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona (UAB). She has a professional background in environmental science research. She works in environmental education, communitybased natural resource management and biodiversity conservation, rural vulnerability and adaptation to global changes. She uses participatory research approaches. Now her research interests also lie in co-creation for sustainable and resilient urban settings, science communication and education, and engagement through arts-based approaches. She is a member of the Catalan Council of Science Communication (C4) and the coordinator of the Horizon 2020 European project PERFORM ‘Participatory Engagement with Scientific and Technological Research through Performance. E-mail: [email protected] Lara Smetana is an Associate Professor of Science Education at Loyola University Chicago. She teaches elementary and secondary science methods courses as part of the Teaching, Learning and Leading with Schools and Communities field-based initial teacher preparation program as well as directs doctoral studies. She provides leadership for the LUC-Noyce Scholars program and Loyola’s Cultural Institutions in Teacher Education (CITE) partnership, a working group of Chicago museums and other informal education organizations that partner

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with the university’s teacher preparation programs. Lara’s scholarly work has been driven by a passion for highlighting and valuing the varied in- and out-of-school spaces and communities in which science learning develops, as well as a desire to better understand and address the persistent inequities in youth opportunities to participate in, learn and achieve in science. E-mail: [email protected] Hani Swirski completed her B.Sc. and M.Ed. in Physics Education at the Technion – Israel Institute of Technology. In the years 2005–2013 she taught science in an elementary school in northern Israel, and trained teachers in maximizing the pedagogical value of ICT tools. Swirski completed her PhD in 2018 in the Faculty of Education in Science & Technology at the Technion, studying students’ interest in science. Using questions that students bring up in a formal (e.g. science class) and informal environments (e.g. Ask an expert websites, exhibition etc.), she identified common interest in science across different groups of learners and studied the stability of interest in science over time. In addition, Swirski examined which resource of questions may be useful for teachers and decision makers in order to effectively integrate students’ voice into the science curriculum. Swirski’s work was supported by the I-CORE Program of the Planning and Budgeting Committee and the Israel Science Foundation (1716/12), the Paul and Walter Eugene Shryer Memorial Fellowship and the Shlomo Rakib Fellowship in honor of Ezra and Habiba Rakib and in honor of Elizabeth and Abraham Herz, the Irwin and Joan Jacobs Fellowship for Excellent PhD Students and the Kaplan Award for Excellent Graduate Students in Science and Technology Education. E-mail: [email protected] Ayelet Tsabari is an Associate Professor at the Faculty of Education in Science and Technology at the Technion – Israel Institute of Technology (B.Sc. Tel Aviv University, PhD Weizmann Institute of Science (Prior to joining the Technion Faculty as an Assistant Professor in 2011, she was a Marie Curie Fellow at the Department of communication at Cornell University. Prof. Baram-Tsabari founded the Israeli Science Communication Conference series, and is the first and only Israeli elected member of the scientific committee of Public Communication of Science and Technology Network (PCST), which aims to improve science communication worldwide. She is an elected member of the Israel Young Academy, and serves as Chairwoman of its Communication Committee. She is a member of the Advisory Board for the US National

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Academy of Sciences’ new Koshland public engagement program, and a member of the Israeli Centers of Research Excellence (i-CORE) on “Learning in a Networked Society” and “Taking Citizen Science to School,” among other professional activities. Baram-Tsabari’s research focuses on bridging science education and science communication scholarship; identifying people’s interests in science; building on people’s authentic interests in science to teach and communicate science in more meaningful and personally relevant ways; and supporting scientists in becoming effective science communicators to enable publics to use evidence in order to make informed individual and social decisions. E-mail: [email protected] Bart van de Laar is senior innovation manager for the Faculty of Science and Engineering of the University of Groningen in the Netherlands, a leading Dutch research university with a rich academic tradition dating back to 1614. Van de Laar and his team were responsible for the university’s innovative STEM-programme between 2004 and 2014. He founded and directed the Science LinX science center that reaches out to pupils, teachers, non-profit organizations and the general public. With a fresh and tailor-made approach, the center facilitates continuous learning that links research, education, work and citizenship. Since 2017 he has directed the programme team to develop an international joint campus in China. His professional interest lies in educational renewal, informal learning, internationalization and strategy development. Webpage: www.rug.nl/staff/b.j.van.de.laar E-mail: [email protected] Heather Zimmerman is an Associate Professor of Education at Penn State University. Heather has a PhD in the Learning Sciences from the University of Washington, with degrees in Museum Studies from the University of Washington and Science Communication from Cornell University. In her research, Heather analyzes the social and cognitive practices that people use to learn about science and technology in everyday settings. She investigates how multiple learning experiences contribute to the development of scientific knowledge, practices, and affiliations towards (or away) from science. Her interests include parentchild interactions, designing for learning in informal institutions, the role of mobile technology to support learning across settings, and gender issues that intersect with STEM disciplines. Prior to coming to Penn State, Heather worked in museums involved designing and implementing programs for families,

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youth organizations, and libraries—including an early childhood program called Storybook Science and a community-based program for rural and urban youth. She has published in Science Education, Journal of Research in Science Teaching, International Journal of Science Education, Environmental Education Research, and the Journal of Museum Education. E-mail: [email protected]

PART 1 Theoretical Considerations

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CHAPTER 1

Introduction Meeting Basic Needs Phyllis Katz and Lucy Avraamidou

Abstract This introduction provides the rationale for the book. We put forward an argument about the importance of science education and the extensive reform movement whose goals are to make it more relevant to students and the public. We explain how we considered the basic needs of homeostasis and novelty, as we thought about the nature of the changes we seek to implement as science educators. We include a description of the questions the contributing authors sought to answer in approaching the challenge to look at their work in terms of these basic needs.

… This volume came about as we considered two major challenges today in science education in different parts of the world. The first is the critical need to reach a greater number of learners with science education throughout their lives. Well-grounded in the research of the past few decades, we are convinced of its importance (e.g. Hill, Corbett, & Rose, 2010; McGinnis & Kahn, 2014). We continue to witness the need for science every day. These are challenging times for Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia, the Americas – for the world. Terrorism attacks, nationalistic propagandas, racism, refugee status, and financial crises all around the world have created new realities and broadened the responsibilities for education. Global competition and technological development, environmental problems as well as societal challenges such as poverty, food security, and wealth distribution place new demands and raise high expectations for science education reform all around the world. The call for “science reform” (closely related to “science literacy”) has been a mantra since the 1950’s and has generally meant the change from contentcentered lessons and demonstrations to a science education process that is engaging and relevant to those who must continue to learn to participate in a democracy (De Boer, 2000). The slow pace of change is our second motivation for assembling these authors. Between us, we have decades of science teaching and research in science education in different places in the world. We hear © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_001

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often of the need for relevance in teaching especially because research shows that relevance leads to increased student motivation. Perhaps by thinking about how we are meeting (or not meeting) the basic needs of learners, we may gain insights into change itself, as it relates to our science education plans and expectations. We began by considering the most basic of life mechanisms – the tendency to remain stable, familiar and comfortable (i.e., homeostasis) and the need to embrace novelty as it occurs in an ever changing environment. This question is at the heart of this book volume: How do these opposing drives and choices manifest themselves in science education? Homeostasis keeps our biological processes balanced and our socio-cultural institutions recognizable. Novelties come at us constantly as we broaden our experiences and learn how to survive in a changing world. From the play we engage in as children, through our school years and the rest of our lives, homeostasis and novelty drives are at work behind the scenes. The question then is, in what ways do we learn to be conscious of these drives in our work as science educators? How does this awareness, when brought to the forefront, affect our choices? As pervasive as these drives are, the call to reform our field to improve teaching/learning as “science for all” for personal satisfaction and productivity has been slow to take hold (Bower, 2005; Bybee, 1993; Macchi & Klein, 2012; NGSS, 2013). We have been shown themes of possible impediments. We see evidence of the need for financial investment in education (Lafortune, Rothstein, & Schanzenbach, 2018); teacher preparation and in-service teaching needs (Luft & Hewson, 2014); the persistent science images that young students hold based on culture and personal experience (Farland-Smith, 2014) and the need to encourage identities that include science capabilities at all levels in and out-of-school contexts (Avraamidou, 2016; Katz, 2016). The resistance to change has long been reported in the tenaciousness of alternative conceptions (e.g. Driver & Easley, 1978; Odom & Barrow, 2010; Trowbridge & Mintzes, 1988). Outside of schooling, but in the science education world, this resistance has also been evident in public demand for familiarity, even in places sought out for their novelties. Both the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia and the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry (MSI) in North America had to respond to public pressure to hold on to familiarity. These venerable science museums met an outcry when they attempted to replace popular exhibits, like the walkthrough heart (opened in 1953 at the Franklin Institute) or the coal mine (opened at MSI in 1933). There is comfort in the familiar and predictable. We see then, that as critical as science is to our lives in studying and understanding our world with the best evidence we can produce, there has been resistance to changing what we learn and the ways in which we learn. What might be the underlying source of that resistance and how might we take that

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into account as we design our science teaching environments? We invited colleagues to consider their work in terms of meeting the basic needs of homeostasis and novelty in the context of a changing world. In this book, with the choice of homeostasis and novelty, we have chosen to reflect upon cross-cutting and basic concepts that are relevant to science education research and practice. Researchers concentrating on different aspects of human neuroscience have written about how profound these underlying processes are. Life regulation [is] a dynamic process known as homeostasis for short…. The conscious minds of humans, armed with such complex selves and supported by even greater capabilities of memory, reasoning, and language, engender the instruments of culture and open the way into new means of homeostasis at the level of societies and culture. (Damasio, 2010, pp. 25–26) Being able to detect unusual, possibly dangerous events in the environment is a fundamental ability that helps ensure the survival of biological organisms. Novelty detection requires a memory system that models (builds neural representations of events in the environment], so that changes are detected because they violate the predictions of the model. (Tiitinen et al., 1994, Abstract)

What You Will Find in This Book This book brings together a range of chapters situated in a variety of both inschool and out-of-school settings around the world as it aims to explore the places of novelty in efforts for reforming science education and its role to continual science learning-that is lifelong science learning wherever it occurs. There is also a place for homeostasis, that tendency to resist, to maintain stability, until motivated to change. The goals of science reform can be interpreted as ways to strengthen how we, as science educators, seek to continually educate people to meet these needs. The settings and mechanisms in and out-of-school help to determine to what extent science learning experiences are credited, interest is developed, and enthusiasm is fostered from the perspective of meeting these basic needs. As we view science education as an ecosystem, we are particularly interested in how its “homeostasis” might be radically disturbed, changed and evolved through generating novel approaches. Novelty and homeostasis are therefore the main theoretical constructs within which this volume is grounded.

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Collectively and individually, the authors of this volume talk about these constructs and provide a variety of theoretical and empirical insights around the design of novel, motivating, and inspiring learning environments that fulfill learners’ basic needs. After we set the stage with history and theory in Chapters 1 and 2, you will find ten different stories in Chapters 3–12. In Chapter 13, we have synthesized the evidence and presented recommendations for further research. To address this view of science education in terms of homeostasis and novelty, we invited authors with whose work we were familiar to prepare a chapter describing their science education efforts in these terms. They responded by writing of theory, investigations, and setting considerations. When they submitted their chapters we understood how each had asked questions using these concepts. What follows is a brief description of how we interpreted the questions that the authors were asking so as to introduce you to the contents of the book. Wolff-Michael Roth (Canada): How does phenomenology provide insights into the difficulty of grasping novel concepts with which one has no previous experience? Marilyn Eichinger (USA): How can schools work with traumatized (often homeless) students to introduce them to the novelty of the classroom when the reality of a homeostatic assumption of family preparation for schooling is not part of the children’s lives? Lars Guenther (South Africa): How does science journalism adapt to the novel evolving methods of internet publication while maintaining the homeostatic role of journalism in the “fourth estate,” as free and independent? Heather Toomey, Lucy McClain, Michele Crowl (USA): How can local science professionals (engineers, etc.) provide novel contextual science education experiences for rural families so as to change their homeostatic views of the relevancy of science to their lives? Joy Kubarek (USA): How do zoos and aquariums develop novel learning opportunities about animals which are uncommon and about which many people maintain homeostatic views based on a lack of encounters? Maria Heras and Isabel Ruiz-Mallen (Spain and France): How does the novelty of student participation in formative assessment in an art-science program further the expected shift to a homeostatic state for student, rather than teacher-centered science education? Patricia Patrick (USA): How does a novel photographic teaching technique used to investigate human impact within a community, allow a school to respond to the homeostasis of their accustomed school learning habits? Bart van de Laar (The Netherlands): How does the novelty of regional networks for STEM education work in contrast to the homeostasis of local, unconnected efforts?

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Lara Smetana (USA): How can a short-term study abroad program introduce novel ways of teaching to science education students to counteract the homeostatic tendency to teach as they were taught in non-reform environments? Hani Swarski and Ayelet Baram-Tsbari (Israel): How can student voice, in the form of their questions, a novel approach, be incorporated into a homeostatic curriculum that they are expected to master? The last chapter is ours, discussing what we have learned from these authors and the thinking that they have engendered in us. We have suggested future work to support both science education teachers and learners as they interact around meeting these basic needs. Perhaps in understanding ourselves in terms of our need to be maintained as well as excited, we can make more progress in addressing the circumstances that confront us.

CHAPTER 2

Meeting Basic Needs History of Homeostasis and Novelty as Concepts and Terms Relevant to Science Education Phyllis Katz and Lucy Avraamidou

Abstract Why a book from this viewpoint? Homeostasis and novelty are two basic needs that explain many activities of human life. Derived from biology, the first term describes the tendency to maintain a steady state; the second term is one for which there is evidence that evolution has favored the recognition of the different or new, to assist humans in considering the not-yet-known in an ever changing world in which we must take decisive actions to survive. We recognize regular patterns and the apparent exceptions to those patterns – an essential part of science learning and research. Not only do our individual bodies and minds have these tendencies, but the institutions we have created exhibit them as well. We create venerable institutions that do things in certain ways, just as we recognize in our identities that we may be (and see in others) certain “kinds” of people. Gaining insights into how we and the public respond to efforts in science education through a lens focused on these basic needs may help us better understand how some of our projects engage participants in ways that take hold and others do not.

Homeostasis The word homeostasis has its origins in the late 19th century in the Greek word homoiōsis “becoming like” which is derived from the word homoios, which means “like” and the word stasis which means “static” or “standing.” In 1865, the French physiologist Claude Bernard first described the physical tendency for an organism to maintain its internal environment (Damasio & Damasio, 2016; McFarland, Price, Wenderoth, Martinkova, Cliff, Michael, Modell, & Wright, 2017). The term homeostasis was first used by Walter Cannon in 1926. We recognize homeostasis, for example, in our warm-bloodedness. Our bodies have developed mechanisms for steady states in chemistry as well as temperature control. In both the plant and animal kingdoms, homeostasis maintains the © koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2019 | doi:10.1163/9789004391635_002

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adaptations to a particular environment. As Damasio noted in the introduction, our social and cultural lives also reflect this tendency (Damasio, 2010). Homeostatic tendencies are visible in how we grow socially as individuals. We create our identities “by constructing bonds or distinction in which we become invested” (Wenger, 1998, p. 192). Our identities depend to a large extent on the recognizable “what,” “where,” “how,” and, “with whom” we choose or find ourselves. Gee, for example, gave us four categories of identity: Nature (groups we are born into); Institutional (groups from which authorities define us, such as schools designate “students”); discursive (traits that we have or develop that others confirm in interactions, such as “kindness”); affinity (voluntary grouping with practices we want to perform, such as “knitters,” or sports clubs) (Gee, 2001). In each of these there are descriptions – familiar traits that bound what we consider a group and make it recognizable. Their homeostatic nature is what allows us to recognize a person as “a certain kind of person” (Gee, 2001). In our work in science education we can consider homeostasis as one way of viewing a large part of what science is built upon. In terms of basic theoretical perspectives, Thomas Kuhn wrote of the nature of scientific revolutions that scientists accept a perspective and study around it (a paradigm) and then, with new tools and insights, accept an alternate paradigm and shift a focal viewpoint for new investigations. He said, In science,…novelty emerges only with difficulty, manifested by resistance, against a background provided by expectation. Initially, only the anticipated and usual are experienced even under circumstances where anomaly is later to be observed…By ensuring that the paradigm will not be too easily surrendered, resistance guarantees that scientists will not be lightly distracted and that the anomalies that lead to paradigm change will penetrate existing knowledge to the core. (Kuhn, 1962/1970, pp. 64–65) The sun rises and sets. Humans interpreted this raw visual data as evidence that the sun cycled around the earth–geocentric theory. It took the innovation of instruments and thinking to provide evidence that the earth cycled around the sun – as well as did other celestial bodies – and, that our solar system was one of millions in the universe. One aspect of the nature of science is that we build empirical knowledge about how the world works, understanding that it is tentative (Lederman, Lederman, & Antink, 2013). Our science methods are ways to accumulate data and consensus about how the world works, within a well described context and at a certain time, leading us to the choices we may have to make. While

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we carefully seek to describe the context of a particular study, we also work to understand how it fits or deviates from an established pattern. We test for reliability to analyze sameness of response. We seek patterns as reliable rhythms leading to the predictability that helps us plan to survive. Rheingold tells us that “the natural concomitant of living is the acquisition of familiarity” (Rheingold, 1985, p. 4). Familiarity can provide comfort in the security of sameness. That need for security is basic. Science educators have witnessed resistance to change and the need to provide for the comfort of familiarity in building confidence with learners. One of the most dramatic examples of science resistance is the sciencereligion discussion. While there are several possibilities for why Charles Darwin, for example, delayed his publication of The Origin of Species for a decade, many understand that his (then) radical idea of the human-as-evolved-animal would leave him open to accusations of denying religious tenets (Richards, 1983). This discussion continues today, presenting educators with the resistance of families who strive to retain origin stories and rituals in their identities that they see as conflicting with science and its evidence. So powerfully homeostatic are these beliefs to some people that they resist cosmology and what scientific evidence we have from astronomy and physics. We see the homeostasis-novelty see-saw in our politics as well. We speak of conservative and progressive approaches. In general, conservatives are those who want to “conserve” the way processes and policies were created at a time past. They make a case for stability and yes, familiarity. Those who are labelled progressive, to varying degrees, express an interest in change, in trying new ways and responding to change by creating innovative structures and pathways. We see these perspectives as varying responses to the many unknowns we face as human beings. We want to make it clear that we are not promoting one process as better than another because both are necessary and their influence will vary by their adaptive value. We bring these examples in to provide the reader with ways in which we observe the powerful pull of homeostasis as it can affect science education.

Novelty The term novelty comes from the Middle English term novelte, meaning newness. Today it connotes “fresh,” “unusual,” or “interesting.” When what we observe is new to us, we want to determine if it fits into an existing pattern, alters the pattern we have already observed, or brings us information that is outside of patterns with which we are familiar. The need for novelty also derives from our biology. The need for novelty, and its partner, curiosity, seem

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to also be hard-wired in our minds. Scientists theorize that curiosity (about what is different) is a protective mechanism that developed to alert us to changes in our environment. These traits serve to help us identify deviations from expected patterns and ultimately to provide us with ways to protect ourselves from what we have not yet experienced if it presents a danger (Tiitinen et al., 1994). Researchers have studied and pondered how boredom signals the need to create, and how our survival depends on this creative capacity. Novelty speaks to the ever-changing nature of our world as well and how we must adapt to survive. Insufficient novelty can lead to expressions of boredom when activities seem unchallenging or meaningless (van Tilburg & Igou, 2012). Homeostasis and Novelty Together These two drives to keep things steady or familiar and to seek the new and unknown are essential and basic. These two needs set our goals and expectations. We work to maintain our bodies and our institutions. Schooling (certainly public schooling) has sustained the culture within which it is embedded through its transmission of values, rituals, curricula, standards, and teaching methods. Lately, with the increasingly rapid development of technology, we have been concerned about preparing students for lives and livelihoods that are as yet unimagined. How do we do this? The phonebooks that were so thick that we used them as booster seats for children no longer exist. We have handheld computers in the form of smartphones, which put connectedness at our fingertips. We need to think about students who are exposed to bulk quantities of information in and out of schools. How do they take to the constant novelty of new ideas? How do we create environments comfortable and secure enough that the newness isn’t threatening? We are all learners throughout our lives. How much do we put on automatic, assuming predictable regularity and how much do we remain open to the changing world around us? We ponder why the science reform movements have been slow or ineffective at times. Perhaps one reason is that we haven’t fully appreciated the need for homeostasis alongside the novelties we introduce. Could it be that we have tilted towards the many new methods and problems, forgetting about the basic concurrent need of familiarity and security? We in the education community have recognized that meeting basic human needs must come before students can pay attention to the ideas and practices that will carry them forward beyond those immediate needs. We know that providing school breakfasts and lunches is more than a matter of adequate calories, understanding that hungry children cannot concentrate (Wilder, 2014). We know that including physical education supports cognitive learning as muscles must be exercised and released (Trudeau & Shephard, 2008). We know that requiring vaccinations and health education helps protect against

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diseases that once ravaged populations (Andre et al., 2008). We have tried to meet these needs in schooling. Science education history tells an interesting story about what can happen when we do not attend to student needs beyond academic goals. When the Soviet Union launched Sputnik in 1957, the US moved rapidly to address changes in science education. A group of scientists and educators assembled at Woods Hole, MA in 1959 to focus on curriculum. Jerome Bruner wrote The Process of Education (Bruner, 1959) in which he advocated a more robust science curriculum. A little more than ten years into efforts to implement it, he wrote a critical piece in the Phi Delta Kappan (Bruner, 1971) in which he talked of not recognizing the basic needs of students in his desire to move science education forward. As a university level researcher, he hadn’t been in the schools where the students weren’t doing well. As youth, they needed to help support their families-to cook, to earn money, to take care of younger siblings, academic science learning was not a priority. His assumption had been that students came ready to learn (a set of homeostatic expectations) and he had learned that there was a complexity to schooling that went beyond a more rigorous science curriculum and this assumption of students. The question raised is in what other ways do we not think about basic needs as we work to reform our field? We have therefore focused on this topic because the tendencies to maintain the steady state (or what has been “traditional” in cultural terms), and the tendency to see and be stimulated by novel experiences not only undergirds our minds but the institutions we have developed, as Damasio noted above. Gaining insights into how homeostasis and novelty pull and tug at us may help us understand why some of our reform efforts are more successful than others. Perhaps we can do a better job of taking into account these basic built-in tendencies to be homeostatic, to stay the same, and to seek out what is novel, new, and exciting. We hope that bringing this perspective more visibly into our discussions can improve our work and help us reach our goals of science for all. Science content and process are important in helping each of us be more mindful of the decisions we make for ourselves and our ever more interconnected world and for the work we do (European Commission, 2015; National Research Council, 2014; Rutherford & Ahlgren, 1990). The stakes are high. We, science educators, recognize and are ready for change. Major science reform documents call for innovation beyond traditional educational approaches to reflect research on how people learn best, but also to respond to perceived threats. Just as science education was stimulated to change in the US once the Russians launched Sputnik, reform around the world has been stimulated by the major challenges that we noted above. Reform efforts in a number of countries typically have arisen whenever there was

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a perceived economic or social crisis; when the need for novel ways of thinking becomes urgent. Reform efforts can be found in the context of the European Union, which currently faces two major issues: economic instability and a steady decline of interest towards science careers, which relates directly to the economic crisis. These concerns are exemplified in various reports that have been published in the past decade, such as: Europe Needs More Scientists (EC, 2004), Science Education in Europe: Critical Reflections (Osborne & Dillon, 2008), Science Education NOW: A Renewed Pedagogy for the Future of Europe (EC, 2007), and, Encouraging Student Interest in Science and Technology Studies (OECD, 2008). Following these reports, in August 2015, the European Commission published the “Science Education for Responsible Citizenship” report, which offers a 21st century vision for science for society within the broader European agenda. The report places emphasis on the process of aligning research and innovation to the values, needs and expectations of society, referred to as “Responsible Research and Innovation” (RRI). The main objectives of the report are summarized into the following: – Science education should be an essential component of a learning continuum for all, from pre-school to active engaged citizenship. – Science education should focus on competencies with an emphasis on learning through science and linking science with other subjects and disciplines. – The quality of teaching, from induction through pre-service preparation and in-service professional development, should be enhanced to improve the depth and quality of learning outcomes – Collaboration between formal, non-formal and informal educational providers, enterprise and civil society should be enhanced – Greater attention should be given to promoting Responsible Research and Innovation (RRI) and enhancing public understanding of scientific findings – Emphasis should be placed on connecting innovation and science education strategies, at local, regional, national, European and international levels, taking into account societal needs and global developments (pp. 8–11). These recommendations address a wide range of goals emphasizing the role of responsible research and citizenship as they place new demands and raise high expectations from formal education. In order to meet these goals, formal education is required to make significant transformations at different levels: policy, curriculum, research, and teacher preparation. These recommendations come with a number of questions connected to the overarching one of how to reform? Specifically, questions that need answers are: What approaches

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and strategies ought to be adopted in order to implement these recommendations? How do these recommendations cross borders and translate into each of the 28 European nations context and educational system? How do these recommendations fit with each nation’s national education goals and cultural diversity? These questions remain to be answered as each European nation attempts to adopt these broad recommendations. This is no different in the US context with its 50 states each directing its own educational system. Six years ago, the Framework for K-12 Science Education was published in the USA as the basis for the development of new standards in K-12 science education (National Research Council [NRC], 2012). As summarized in the report, the overarching goal for K-12 science education is to ensure that By the end of 12th grade all students have some appreciation of the beauty and wonder of science; possess sufficient knowledge of science and engineering to engage in public discussions on related issues; are careful consumers of scientific and technological information related to their everyday lives; are able to continue to learn about science outside school; and have the skills to enter careers of their choice, including (but not limited to) careers in science, engineering, and technology. (p. 1) One of the underlying principles of these reforms is connecting science to students’ interests and experiences. Helping learners make these connections gives them an impetus to engage in conceptual change. According to the NRC report, “research suggests that personal interest, experience, and enthusiasm – critical to children’s learning of science at school or in other settings – may also be linked to later educational and career choices” (p. 28). It is obvious that the above overarching goal covers a wide and demanding range of knowledge, skills, and attitudes toward science that are developed not only in school but also in out-ofschool settings. Both Science For All Americans (Rutherford & Ahlgren, 1990) and the National Science Education Standards (1996) noted that “the school science program must extend beyond the walls of the school to include the resources of the community” (NRC, 1996, p. 45). These places range from museums, science centers, zoos, botanical gardens, community-settings, at science festivals, science competitions, science cafes, mobile games and considerations for the influence of family/community. School reform is a large, but not exclusive, part of the reform movement. The homeostatic notion that science education is a school realm is thus challenged and addressed in opening the effort to everyone. The call for science education reform is a worldwide voice heard from science educators responding to the need for our educational systems as well as learners to undergo conceptual change to prepare for an uncertain future.

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The United Kingdom and the United States produce influential reports, but the call for reform is being voiced in many nations. Describing Tanzania, but referencing other post-colonial African nations, Semali and Mehta describe a nation aware of its need to encourage strong STEM education for personal and national development needs (2012). Reform here is visibly related to our discussion of homeostasis and novelty. Acknowledging the recent colonial history of Africa, there are science educators who want to reclaim the respect for pre-colonial methods of exploring contextual knowledge. At the same time, Tanzania wants to prepare its population for participation in the 21st century. This is an example of cultural homeostasis, pride in history, and its impact on a nation. Communities and the nation must reach consensus, plan and invest together in a country where access to any education has been limited. This particular research reports on science education that is woven into entrepreneurship to address the country’s immediate needs for employment. In Thailand, as another example, Yuenyong and Narjaikaew describe science education reform (2009). It has been defined by The Institute for the Promotion of Teaching Science and Technology (IPST). These are the science education goals it published for scientific literacy: – understand the principles and theories of scientific knowledge; – understand the scope, limitation and the nature of science; – engage in science process skills, scientific inquiry, and investigation in science and – technology; – develop thinking skills and the capability for problem solving, and communication – skills and decision making; – be aware of the interrelationship between science, technology, society, humans and the environment; – apply science and technology for the survival of the society; and – be aware of the habits of mind, ethics, morals, and values in science and technology. These are similar to the US, UK and Tanzanian goals in looking to a sustainable economic future for the country and its people, but Yuenyong and Narjaikaew inform us that Thai science teachers need to transmit a moral component. Perhaps this is not all that different from responsible science. It does specifically pay tribute to respect for traditional knowledge – another recognition of homeostatic trends. In this book on homeostasis and novelty, we have set about to reflect upon and give examples of how educators, in and out of school, consider the fundamental needs of maintaining stability-homeostasis – while introducing

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the novelty we design into our educational environments and programs. Since both of these prerequisites are built into our systems, individually and in social settings, we wanted to use them as a lens and ask our colleagues to write about their experiences. The authors of the book volume invite us to think about how we might continue to build our science teaching in varied settings with a foundation that consciously meets these needs to provide stability and the excitement of novelty. There is no “one-size-fits-all” response to the challenges we face today. The impetus for this book was to recognize both forces in our own work and present to others how we strike different balances as we educate in science. In his report on Australian science education, Russell Tytler suggests that changes in science education have met resistance because teachers make a quiet choice for the status quo (2007). This choice is part of their identities as authorities, he believes. We would revisit this conclusion in light of the material in this book. His observation does present a case for bringing these forces – to hold to the status quo – and to seek new challenges, to the forefront for examination as we consider homeostasis and novelty to support our work in science education.

References Andre, F. E., Booy, R., Bock, H. L., Clemens, J., Datta, S. K., John, T. J., Lee, B. W., Lolekha, S., Peltola, H., Ruff, T. A., Santosham, M., & Schmitt, H. J. (2008). Vaccination greatly reduces disease, disability, death and inequity worldwide. Bulletin of the World Health Organization, 86(2), 81–160. Avraamidou, L. (2016). Introduction. In L. Avraamidou (Ed.), Studying science teacher identity (pp. 1–13). Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishers. Bower, J. M. (2005). Scientists and science education reform: Myths, methods, and madness. Washington, DC: National Academy of Sciences. Bruner, J. (1960). The process of education. New York, NY: Random House. Bruner, J. (1971). The process of education revisited. Phi Delta Kappan, 53(1), 18–21. Damasio, A. (2010). Self comes to mind. New York, NY: Pantheon Books. Damasio, A., & Damasio, H. (2016). Exploring the concept of homeostasis and considering its implications for economics. Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization, 126, 125–129. DeBoer, G. E. (2000). Scientific literacy: Another look at its historical and contemporary meanings. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 37(6), 582–601. Driver, R., & Easley, J. (1978). Pupils and paradigms: A review of literature related to concept development in adolescent science students. Studies in Science Education, 5, 61–84.

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Escera, C., & Malmierca, M. S. (2013). The auditory novelty system: An attempt to integrate human and animal research. Psychophysiology, 51(2), 111–123. Farland-Smith, D. (2014). The evolution of the analysis of the draw-a-scientist test. In P. Katz (Ed.), Drawing for science education (pp. 171–178). Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishers. Gago, J. M., Ziman, J., Caro, P., Constantinou, C., Davies, G., Parchmann, I., Rannikmäe, M., & Sjøberg, S. (2004). Europe needs more scientists. Brussels: European Communities. Gee, J. P. (2001). Identity as an analytic lens for research in education. Review of Research in Education, 25, 99–125. Hazelkorn, H., Ryan, C., Beernaert, Y., Constantinou, C. P., Deca, L., Grangeat, M., Karikorpi, M., Lazoudis, A., Casulleras, R. P., & Welzel-Breuer, M. (2015). Science education for responsible citizenship. Brussels: European Commission. Hill, C., Corbett, C., & St. Rose, A. (2010). Why so few? Washington DC: American Association of University Women. Katz, P. (2016). Identity development of mothers as afterschool science teachers. In L. Avraaidou (Ed.), Studying science teacher identity (pp. 237–260). Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishers. Kuhn, T. (1962/1970). The structure of scientific revolutions. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Lafortune, J., Rothstein, J., & Schanzenbach, D. W. (2018). School finance reform and the distribution of student achievement. American Economic Journal Applied Economics, 10(2), 1–26. Lederman, N., Lederman, J. S., & Antink, A. (2013) Nature of science and scientific inquiry as contexts for the learning of science and achievement of scientific literacy. International Journal of Education in Mathematics, Science and Technology, 1(3), 138–147. Luft, J., & Hewson, P. (2014). Research on teacher professional development programs in science. In N. G. Lederman & S. K. Abell (Eds.), Handbook of research on science education (pp. 889–909). New York, NY: Routledge. Macci, O., & Klein, R. (Eds.). (2012). A renewal of science education in Europe, views and actions of national academies. Retrieved March 1, 2018, from http://www.allea.org/ wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Summary-Report-on-Science-Education-in-Europe.pdf McFarland, J., Price, R. M., Wenderoth, M. P., Martinkova, P., Cliff, M., Michael, J., Modell, H., & Wright, A. (2017). Development and validation of the homeostasis concept inventory. CBE Life Sciences Education, 16(2), 1–13. McGinnis, J. R., & Kahn, S. (2014). Special needs and talents in science learning. In N. G. Lederman & S. K. Abell (Eds.), Handbook of research on science education. New York, NY: Routledge. National Research Council. (1996). National science education standards. Washington, DC: National Academies Press.

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National Research Council. (2012).A framework for K-12 science education. Washington, DC: National Academies Press. National Research Council. (2014). STEM learning is everywhere. Washington, DC: National Academies Press. NGSS Lead States. (2013). Next generation science standards: For states, by states. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. Odom, A., & Barrow, L. (2007). High school biology students’ knowledge and certainty about diffusion and osmosis concepts. School Science and Mathematics, 107(3), 94–101. OECD. (2008). Encouraging student interest in science and technology studies. Paris: The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). Osborne, J., & Dillon, J. (2008). Science education in Europe: Critical reflections. England: Nuffield Foundation. Richards, R. J. (1983). Why Darwin delayed, or interesting problems and models in the history of science. Journal of the History of the Behavorial Sciences, 19, 45–53. Rheingold, H. L. (1985). Development as the acquisition of familiarity. Annual Review Pscyhology, 36, 1–18. Rocard, M., Csermely, P., Jorde, D., Lenzen, D., Walberg-Henriksson, H., & Hemmo, V. (2007). Science education NOW: A renewed pedagogy for the future of Europe. Brussels: European Commission. Rutherford, J. F., & Ahlgren, A. (1990). Science for all Americans. New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Semali, L., & Mehta, K. (2012). Science education in Tanzania: Challenges and policy responses. International Journal of Educational Research, 53, 225–239. Tiitinen, H., May, P., Reinikainen, K., & Näätänen, R. (1994). Attentive novelty detection in humans is governed by pre-attentive sensory memory. Nature, 372, 90–92. Trowbridge & Mintzes. (1988). Trudeau, F., & Shephard, R. J. (2008). Physical education, school physical activity, school sports and academic performance. International Journal of Behavioral Nutrition and Physical Activity, 5, 10. Retrieved May 24, 2018, from https://ijbnpa.biomedcentral.com/ track/pdf/10.1186/1479-5868-5-10 Tytler, R. (2007). Re-imaging science education, engaging students in science for Australia’s future. Victoria: ACER Press. van Tilburg, W. A. P., & Igou, E. R. (2012). On boredom: Lack of challenge and meaning as distinct boredom experiences. Motivation and Emotion, 36, 181–194. Wenger, E. (1998). Communities of practice. Cambridge: The University of Cambridge. Yuenyong, C., & Narjaikaew, P. (2009). Scientific literacy and Thailand science education. International Journal of Environmental & Science Education, 4(3), 335–349.

CHAPTER 3

Novelty A Phenomenological Perspective Wolff-Michael Roth

The craftsman typically knows what job he needs to do before picking or inventing tools with which to do it. By contrast, someone like Galileo, Yeats, or Hegel (a “poet” in my wide sense of the term – the sense of “one who makes things new”) is typically unable to make clear exactly what it is that he wants to do before developing the language in which he succeeds in doing it. Rorty (1989, pp. 12–13)

∵ Abstract The currently predominant epistemologies and theories of learning are concerned with the social and individual construction of the world based on interpretations of what they encounter. In this, existing approaches are ill suited to capture novelty, for every encounter with something is explained in terms of interpretation and the application of existing conceptual structures; and in those few cases where existing structures do not fit, some accommodation process (literally accommodation in Piaget’s version, radical reconstruction of existing knowledge in conceptual change approaches) is used to explain how the individual or group comes to know. How can a cognitive organism recognize something as not fitting its conceptual structures if the cognition of the world is based on these same structures? To address the problems of existing approaches with respect to learning something absolutely new, the present chapter develops a post-constructivist approach based in a phenomenology of the alien. This approach has consequences for science education on both affective and ethical grounds. With respect to the former, because we cannot know the unexpected – that which we subsequently come to know as novelty – we are exposed to and affected by it before any sense-making can occur. More importantly, because we can know precisely what we are doing only after © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_003

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having finished acting (e.g. Suchman, 2007), we are responsible for actions for which we cannot know the effect on others. Some implications for science education are discussed.

On Learning In classical theories of human cognitive development, learners are thought of as intentionally pursuing to repeat the experiences they like and to be avoiding those that they dislike. Learning tends to be thought of in terms of the known – the learners’ minds are said to interpret the new, whatever it is, in terms of the already known. In (radical) constructivism and enactivism, learning is articulated in terms of transformation processes that change behavior through changing capacities of the nervous system. Learners are said to “construct meaning” of words and symbols and researchers often involve the notion of agency to describe learning as active engagement with curriculum materials and in relationships with others. There hardly ever appears to be a question about whether learners actually respond to the structures of the world that the teacher or researcher see and presuppose. There is evidence that this indeed is not the case. For example, researchers employing the balance beam task, which Piaget had used to show how students abstract the ratio-and-proportion scheme, tend to assume that participants “encode” weight and distance. But this is not at all what happens, as research shows that participants operate upon the position of a weight or the relative positions of weight rather than upon the distance of a weight from the fulcrum. As a consequence, learners are said to inappropriately add or subtract “weights” or “distances” when these are absolutely not the salient properties that the person actually perceive and act upon. The problem is that researchers and teachers theorize knowing and learning in terms of things and worlds in the way these entities are apparent to them, rather than attempting to understand the learners’ actions relative to the things and worlds apparent to the students. The issue of the learning paradox arises from the fact that learning means being thrown (born) into a new world, and this “new is graspable only after the fact” (Waldenfels, 2006, p. 65). We might say that in the face of the unforeseeable future knowledge and understanding, the concept of learning something really new admits, without any doubt, the greatest secret of the yet unseen: what will have been seen for a first time also is and remains unforeseeable until it irrupts into the seen (i.e., clearing) and thereby also comes among its own – precisely because it is unseen right up to that point. This has led to the recognition, consistent with the introductory quotation, that the truly creative artist

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“is characterized not by a plastic inventiveness imposing his will but rather by a passive receptivity which, from among a million equally possible lines, knows to choose this one that imposes itself from its own necessity” (Marion, 1996, pp. 66–67). We do not construct novelty but receive it among possibilities that arise from their own necessities. Novelty is the result of engaging with the alien (foreign, strange), which itself is never grasped but forever withdraws. It both is enabled by the familiar and deeply destabilizes existing states of affairs, that is, homeostasis. To address the problems of existing approaches with respect to learning something absolutely new, the present chapter develops a post-constructivist approach based on a phenomenology of the alien. This approach has consequences for science education on both affective and ethical grounds. With respect to the former, this can be said: because we cannot know the unexpected – that which we subsequently come to know as novelty – we are exposed to and affected by it before any sense-making event occurs. More importantly, perhaps, because we can know precisely what we are doing only after having finished acting (e.g., when hurting someone without having intended or when trying to follow a recipe, instruction), we are responsible for actions of which we cannot know how they affect others. Some implications for science education are discussed.

Coming up against the Unseen and thus Unforeseen In 1980, the year after finishing my Masters degree in physics, I started teaching science without having gone through a teacher education program. It was perhaps my lack of courses in pedagogy and psychology that led me to turn to my own previous experiences as a model for how to teach. During my own high school years, the sciences had been okay subjects, especially because they had come easier to me than the languages. There were mostly lectures with only a few cookbook lab tasks. But in junior college (Kollegstufe), we had to do a big independent project. For the first time, I really liked the sciences (physics). At the university, too, we were mostly attending lectures and doing more cookbook labs. But again, it was during the year of doing the research for my Masters degree that I really had fun. Confronted with the task of teaching science, those two periods of working on projects independently became the image that I intended to emulate. Over the first few years of teaching science through inquiry – I later learned that academic circles used the term discovery learning – I was struck by an observation, though I never really pursued it to any depth. When students were

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doing experiments, they often did not see what I could see. Their failure to articulate the phenomena in scientific terms could easily be traced back to this problem. It was only later, while doing research in an Australian physics classroom that the problem all of a sudden became pressing. In the different parts of that research project, I noted among other things that when shown a demonstration and asked to note what they had observed, the students did not at all agree about what there was to be seen (Roth, McRobbie, Lucas, & Boutonné, 1997b). How could it be that some students saw motion when others, looking at the very same demonstration, did not see motion? How could it be that the students, in their laboratory activities, saw a phenomenon that supported their theory only to realize much later that they were actually seeing something else (Roth, McRobbie, Lucas, & Boutonné, 1997a)? Four years later, during a fellowship in the area of the cognitive sciences at the Hanse Institute for Advanced Studies (Delmenhorst, Germany), I had the opportunity to pursue the issue. While pouring over a set of data from a tenth-grade physics course on static electricity, I was particularly interested in the efforts of a young woman (Birgit). The video shows her group in the apparent attempt to consistently produce the phenomenon of static electricity – e.g., by rubbing a transparency sheet with a piece of cloth – and to test its presence with a neon gas discharge lamp (Figure 3.1). The video shows the young women sometimes succeeding in reproducing what the teacher has shown but not succeeding doing so at many other times. It is during the 116th and 117th attempt of producing and testing the presence of electricity that Birgit all of a sudden fixates the lamp, then puts it aside to get another one. She rubs a transparency sheet to charge it electrostatically, takes the lamp, looks intently at it, and then tests for the presence of static electricity. The lamp does not light up. She then goes to ask the teacher: “Is it not broken?,” and then continues providing a rationale, “Because this is not connected on the inside!” When I saw and heard what was happening, I was struck. Perhaps because I was transcribing the lesson and producing a record of all the attempts the students were producing, I saw that they had used the lamp over 100 times. Yet Brita noted “only now” that there was a gap between the two electrodes rather than a filament as in an incandescent light bulb. This was an interesting observation for me. But my thoughts did not stop there. I knew my science education colleagues were dismissive of such

figure 3.1 A neon gas discharge lamp of the kind used in school physics classes to test for the presence of static electrical charges

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observations, ascribing students’ “failures” to a lack of interest or to their playfulness. Instead, I wondered: “How could Birgit have actively looked for the gap if she did not know that there was one?” I already knew from the research in Australia that looking at something is not the same as observing that something, which again differs from seeing something as something. Birgit might have looked at the lamp before but never actually saw the gap. It was at that very recorded instant, where she is seen to exchange the discharge lamp for another one, the failed attempt in making it light up, and the question to the teacher that the gap began to exist as something to be seen. Now if she did not have prior knowledge of the gap, how could she look for it? If she all of a sudden saw the gap, it was so because the gap itself revealed itself, showing itself to the student. Birgit was not at the origin at all of the perception. Instead, there was something to be seen. That something (i.e. the gap between the electrodes) gave itself to be seen. Birgit is the recipient of a gift: she literally is in the subject position of the gifted and the advenant, the one to whom something is happening (advenes) and who is given (gifted with) something. The gap let itself be seen; and it does so from itself. Before, it was unseen and therefore unforeseen. Birgit manifests surprise and astonishment precisely because the gap was unforeseen. If she asked her teacher whether the lamp was broken, then the origin of her question might be traced to an understanding of an incandescent lamp (i.e. manifesting the previous homeostasis), where the filament is connected to the two electrodes. Children tend to be shown that the filament is broken and the two parts hang independently and move with respect to each other in an incandescent lamp that does not light up anymore. The gap in the neon gas discharge lamp had not existed in the world of Birgit – or that of her group mates. It literally was an alien with respect to the world that they had inhabited. For this alien to be revealed, Birgit had to have opened up to be affected, become a willing host to an unknown and unforeseen thing. But in the very instant that the gap revealed itself, it also became incorporated in the world as something known: a gap. At that very moment it no longer was alien. In its arrival, it already comes to be part of the seen, for example, by relating to the gapless filament of the incandescent lamp. The phenomenon exemplifies that there is an excess of intuition over intention: there is always more to be seen than we can intend seeing at any one moment. There is a reflexive aspect to this story. My colleagues, who had recorded the videotapes and used these in publications about learning science, had not seen anything interesting in this lesson fragment and therefore never tried to understand what was happening. Indeed, they were in the same situation as Brita. The colleagues looked at the fragment but did not see. I did come to see something, but it was unexpected: unseen and therefore unforeseen. It also takes a

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particular disposition to open up and become the host for the unforeseen, the alien. The alien is inherently invisible, for in entering and becoming part of our world that which had been part of the alien no longer is. As researchers, we are in this situation all of the time when attempting to “discover” something new to be able to contribute in a novel way to the research literature in whatever field we are working; and as teachers we are always trying to figure out precisely what it is that a student does not understand so that we can help him/her (e.g. Roth & Radford, 2010). That is, researchers who work at the frontier to come up with novelty – which does not include researchers who use the same instrument or instruments in a slightly changed context only to report some slight variation to preceding research – are confronted with the ever-receding alien. Homeostasis is continuously trying to catch up with the alien that destabilizes it. My (radical) constructivist colleagues have tried to argue that everything we know is the result of interpretations, which make use of what we already know, and constructions. The metaphor of construction is so pervasive that it has become a blinding ideology. When we begin with the idea that everything is constructed then constructivism actually becomes a theory that cannot be rejected. But a theory that cannot be rejected is not a theory in the scientific sense. It is a belief. To overcome this belief – as I can ascertain having accepted at one time in my life radical constructivism as my epistemology – one has to be willing to open up to the alien, something inherently invisible, unknown, unseen, and therefore unforeseen. It does not necessarily help to insist on the fact that for the individual to be able to interpret something, this something has to be there. To assist colleagues, I eventually came up with a pedagogical strategy. I first show a video of the Australian classroom, in which the physics teacher shows a demonstration, and then asks: “Did you just see it?” I then present a black-and-white image not unlike the one in Figure 3.2, and ask, “Did you see it?” We may gaze at the mystery image for a while and all of the sudden we come to see. A form, a new type, detaches itself from the black and white contexture, a new figure coming to stand out above and against the ground. The contexture separates into a figure (type) and its ground. The new type has come out of, ex- [ec-], of the ground and therefore may be referred to as an ectype. As soon as we see this ectype, it imposes itself upon us as soon as we put the gaze at the image. The ectype has come to triumph over what heretofore was invisible and unseen. It indeed becomes unforgettable such that we can no longer look at this black and white field (Figure 3.2) without perceiving what there is to be seen. The ectype, once seen, will have originated in the ground against which it now stands, qua figure, as its most alien. That is, the ectype has its origin in what is and has been the alien, but from which it has detached itself in having become a familiar figure (type).

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figure 3.2 Puzzle of the kind frequently in a variety of social situations: “Do you see it?”

Concerning one particular image that I used across several lectures I found only one in over 1,000 cumulative attendees who saw the “it” that I had intended the audience to see. Readers certainly agree that if you do not know what to look for, how can you look for it? The task is even more difficult (in some ways) than searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack. At least you know you are looking for a needle. Students in science do not know what to look for in demonstrations, experiments, or the lectures of their instructors. How can they intentionally look for this alien thing or phenomenon (e.g. angular momentum)? Indeed, we may push our investigation a little further. One of the observations I had made in the Australian classroom was the fact that some students saw motion (n = 18) where others did not (n = 5). (The familiar strategy of teachers to have a vote would not have worked here because the theory concerning the phenomenon explains why there should be no motion.) In that experiment, students were then asked to explain the observation they had made. All students in the class provided explanations for the presence or absence of motion, respectively. But the point pursued here is that whatever we see, in other words, whatever is given in and to our perception is accepted as a matter of fact. We do not generally question our perception unless there are contextual reasons for doing so. Consider the image that appears in Figure 3.3. Especially when unfamiliar with the image, whatever is seen is taken to be the content of the drawing. For some it is a rabbit; for others it is a duck. It is only when we are familiar with the drawing as showing a duck-rabbit that we easily switch between the two. Similarly,

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figure 3.3 One version of a familiar bistable image

whatever the reader has discovered in the drawn puzzle (Figure 3.2) is taken as it. The consequence is that if lecturers articulate some theory to explain what was seen, those who have seen one gestalt tend to hear what is said in one way, whereas those who have seen another gestalt will hear what is said in another way. Each type of party hears the explanation as pertinent to what has shown itself. There is research to show that requests to find a third solution after having found the two obvious ones and being told for any solution that follows that it does not count for one or another reason, participants become highly distressed and angry (Dembo, 1931). We may hypothesize that this phenomenon will also occur when students are asked to learn something that they cannot know how to orient to because they do not know the phenomenon. They may become just as angry as the participants in Dembo’s research asked to find another solution, which they could not intentionally look for precisely because they did not know where to look for it. (Dembo’s participants, some of the most well-known psychologists at the time, got even more upset when they found out that there was no third possible solution by design.) We note here that there is an inherent affective dimension related to our relationship with the alien. We are now in a position where we can return to the opening quotation to investigate its pertinence to science education. It states that the poet, the one who makes something new, is in a situation very different from the carpenter who knows what to construct and which tools are required in the construction. Indeed, carpenters can monitor what they are doing (i.e., be “meta-cognitive”) precisely because they already know what the outcome is to be. The makers of the new, on the other hand, typically are unable to know what they are doing until they have the means of doing and describing it. Rorty is a pragmatic philosopher, focusing on making. In his text, he does not show interest in the question of how makers arrive at developing the language in which they succeed doing what they previously could not even know that they were doing.

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Other philosophers, however, have pursued these questions, including in the contexts of the arts: how new perceptual forms arise from painting (both for the painter and the spectator). Others have focused on the encounter with the alien in general, invisible and unseen and therefore unforeseen.

Saturated Phenomena Much of educational psychology and constructivist epistemology has accepted the statement that we learn in terms of what we already know: being aware and making deliberate choices. It is out of existing conceptual elements that learners are said to “construct” their mental models subsequently tested for viability. Thus, from a (radical) constructivist perspective, learning is an intentional endeavor in which the person attempts to adapt its constructions to experiences in the world for the purpose of making them more viable. Not only are learners considered in terms of doing the right thing but also they are to monitor, meta-cognitively, their cognitive activity. In this, competent learners are portrayed as individuals with the ability to monitor their learning activities. They must know what they are doing and why the actions they take are right. But how can those in the process of learning know what they are doing, that they are doing the right thing, and why it is the right thing? Such knowledge requires knowing the motive of activity, and this motive inherently is not available to the person who is in the process of learning the curricular object (Roth & Radford, 2011). In the present, the relationship between the new and the previously existing knowledge is different. We might say that coming among its own, the new knowledge had to note that its own (i.e., existing knowledge) did not foresee it and therefore surrendered itself. Before its coming, the new was part of the invisible and could not be aimed at [Fr. n’était pas visable]. The structure of the lamp taught Birgit to see (understand) what she had not seen (understood) before. That is, what Birgit has come to see exceeds everything and anything that she could intend prior to the task; indeed, it was only around trials number 117 and 118 that the inner structure of the neon gas discharge lamp became an aspect of the seen and visible. Such phenomena have come to be known in philosophy as saturated phenomena, that is, phenomena “where intuition gives more, indeed disproportionately more, than what intention could have ever aimed at or anticipated” (Marion, 2005, p. 54). Such phenomena are characterized by the excess of intuition, and, therefore, of donation (givenness of the gift) over intention, known concepts, and aims/motives. What is unseen and what Birgit could not aim at is the particular form of the lamp’s inner structure. That is, there are no apparent conceptual elements

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from which Birgit could have constructed the gap and its possible explanation of the failure to light up when brought into contact with the transparency film. If there had been, Birgit could have derived the new from what she has already known (the homeostatic state). If she learned something new, however, something heretofore part of the alien was encountered. Even if this new had been invented, it would have been an invention ex novo. The expression ex novo translates to “from scratch,” “from nothing”: to invent ex novo is to produce a beginning of something rather than grounding it in a preceding order. As the etymology of the verb “to invent” suggests (Lat. in-, in, into, upon, against + venīre, to come) the process involves elements of unpredictability and surprise, essentially passive forms of experience, exposure. This surprise is in fact a manifestation of the excess of intuition over intention. The teacher might have given Birgit a hint by telling her something in some form. But naming something does not help. I “experimentally” tested this in my lectures involving images of the kind used here (Figure 3.2) and, because I had hidden the figure of an animal, used its Latin name that can be found in biological classifications. But naming the thing did not help my audiences to see what I encouraged them to see (“Did you see it?”). The gestalt and its sense emerge as something new, completely unforeseeable and unseen. It is in fact invisible, as there is no concept to be seen in Figure 3.2 but only the ways in which the gestalt realizes itself concretely in the materials the viewer has at hand. The newly seen (understood) arises for us in the ascent from the unseen to the seen, traversing the ground (black and white areas), all the while remaining invisible, never being there as such. Even if given the name, Orcinus orca, we can look for something only when we already know what the name names. Otherwise the gestalt remains but another aspect of the contexture from which the heretofore-invisible sense would have to arise before making the crossing via the ground and the unseen into the visible. There is indeed a relationship between the seen and the word. Aristotle suggests that the primary function of logos is speech, the function of which is apophainestai. As speech, “logos lets something be seen (phainestai), namely what is being talked about, and indeed for the speaker…or for those who speak with each other” (Heidegger, 1977, p. 32). The result is that “speech ‘lets us see,’ from itself, apo…, what is being talked about” (p. 32). This analysis shows that the seen is not constructed but seen from itself. This thing is giving itself to be seen. It has to give itself, for, if novel, we could never intentionally see or construct it. We associate the name with whatever lets itself be seen – which is precisely why the Australian physics students heard the teacher’s explanation as explaining motion when they had seen motion and as explaining non-motion when they had seen no motion. But when we already know

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something, when it is not alien, then we can actively look for it. Thus, if the reader had been averted to look for a killer whale (orca) prior to referring to Figure 3.2, it would have facilitated the search. This is so because the reader already would have been familiar with the animal and sought for whatever index there might be to the associated gestalt. Pathos is as much part of this event as agency, deciding to expose ourselves to that which we cannot anticipate. Pathos is the capacity to be affected. We cannot be confronted with the alien unless we allow ourselves to be affected and thereby come to see the unseen and unforeseen. This is true for science classrooms as much as for our own endeavors. If I am unwilling to open up to the possibility of different phenomena and different epistemology, I will remain stuck and shun whatever remains foreign. I may indeed be xenophobic, fearing the foreign, a term that heretofore has not been explored in its potential for describing and explaining disinterest and aversion in science. Of course, there is a sense of risk, fear of the unknown whenever we deal with the alien – an experience exemplified when we travel to an unknown country and culture, when we do not speak the language, and where the behaviors of people are so strange that we cannot relate them to anything we already know.

How Does Novelty Arise? Within the dominant constructivist position in science education, learning means assimilating into existing conceptual frameworks; in social constructivist positions, some form of interaction with others may precede the internalization (personal construction) of what has been constructed with others. The concept of accommodation was created to theorize changes in situations where the new could not be assimilated to the existing cognitive structure requiring reorganization and the creation of new structures that would allow the new to be assimilated. This new order arises from existing order so that the resulting cognitive development is a relatively homogeneous progress that is said to be the result of a construction. This, however, is not a satisfactory response to the learning paradox, for how can the subject of learning know the new order required when the new exceeds the existing order? As suggested above, if there is a construction than the pattern has to be invented ex novo. Inherently, the foundation of a new order of understanding is a critical and crisis-like event that exceeds and transcends any previously existing order. Thus, an individual claiming to begin a new order of understanding within him/herself would only repeat what already is and would therefore not begin something new. The new understanding cannot be (entirely) grounded in the learner, who is as much

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subject(ed) to as the subject of cognitive development – saturated phenomena are irreducible to the individual person, who cannot see what is coming. Novelty is new precisely because it is unexpected and cannot be anticipated on the basis of the currently known. This – by Birgit or myself non-anticipatable – historical learning event “does not only happen to its witness without that he could understand (non-constituting I ), but encompasses him in return (constituted I ): the I is understood on the basis of the event that happens to him to the same extent that he does not understand it” (Marion, 1996, p. 74). This phenomenological approach to learning something new, cognitive development, and insight learning fundamentally and de facto undermines all intention-based (including the constructivist) approaches to knowledge growth. Mathematicians know and model the emergence of a new order when the old order is pushed to its limit: catastrophe and chaos theory. New order emerges from old order without that the forms of the new order can be anticipated and predicted based on the previous order. Thus, for example, the recursive equation xt+1 = λxt(1 – xt) will settle into one unique solution as long as λ < 3, but will have two solutions when λ > 3. When λ = 3.0, we find ourselves at a bifurcation point, which is modeled as one kind of catastrophe in catastrophe theory (Figure 3.4). That point corresponds to a crisis, for two very different regimes coincide, two very different orders. Indeed, if we approach the bifurcation from the left, nothing prepares us to anticipate the bifurcation: it arises unpredictably. In physical systems, both

figure 3.4 A chaos-theoretic model for morphogenesis, the genesis of new forms. New forms emerge as λ values are increased. A bifurcation corresponds to a point of crisis because it simultaneously belongs to two, and is the limit of, very different regimes

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the Bénard and the Hopf instabilities are instances where new phenomena of order emerge once a parameter (temperature, speed) is changed; and the new orders are unpredictable on the basis of the previous order (in physical systems: random to ordered movement, laminar to rotational flow). The second type of catastrophe lies in the transition between the two different solutions that solve the recursive equation. In the popular media, the wing beat of the butterfly has become the quintessential expression for both the unpredictability of the new order and the magnitude of the effect arising from infinitesimal changes and influences on large systems. These two catastrophes or crises have been shown to model quite well human development as distinct from human learning (Roth, 2016). In human development, it is well known that the older we get the more we tend to resist novelty, that is, having to reorganize (accommodate) and adapt to new orders. Even among scientists may we observe the same sort of behavior: they hang on to do the same old same old for their entire professional careers. They never allow themselves to have their existing frameworks questioned, that is, they act so not to get to a bifurcation where they have to reorganize ways of thinking (e.g., an epistemology, a paradigm) and make a choice. This is why T. Kuhn suggested that paradigms only die out with their advocates – who literally take the paradigm with them to their graves. When Birgit worked on trying to replicate the teacher demonstration and when I looked at the videotapes showing the group of women repeat trying over and over again, there is nothing that allows us to anticipate whatever eventually reveals itself: the gap in her case, the insight about science learning is mine. Although we cannot anticipate what we will know when everything is said and done, we (Birgit and I) nevertheless engage with our respective tasks, wherever we have to respond to the yet unknown, the alien. This engagement with the alien requires us to act without knowing why. This is so whether we listen to others without knowing what they will say; and it is so when we are looking at something without knowing what we will come to see. That is, our responsivity is in excess of and has to transcend intentionality, “because the fact of entering into something that is happening to us goes beyond the sense, intelligibility, or truth of the response” (Waldenfels, 2006, p. 45). When we actively attend to someone speak or observe a perceptual field, we process what is coming at us before we can grasp what it is. This is so because there is an event of becoming aware, and we are aware only at its end (Roth, 2015). By acting even though we cannot yet know why we do what we do, the new order of understanding arises for us from our objective life activity, when we reproduce our movements the objective peculiarities of external objects. The present position, therefore, is different from enactivism, which focuses on the organism as the seat of the knowledge, arising from within during its interac-

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tions with the world. In fact, the system exists in and as the unity/identity of environment and organism, each of which is irreducible to the other: the substrate upon which consciousness arises is neither the person nor environment considered separately. In the exemplifying analyses above, I note that what is seen gives itself from itself. But we must not think that an image offers wholesale some object to be seen, our objective activity does not show the learning object (exemplified above in the discharge lamp, the mystery figure, or the bistable image). Before it has been perceived and grasped for a first time, any image “impresses our gaze with its own movement as the imprescriptible condition to be able, precisely, to follow in the gaze the ascent to itself of the unseen into the visible” (Marion, 1996, p. 79). This analysis was confirmed quite some time ago by research that investigates visual perception. To see a vertical line, our eyes actually have to move in two directions: A vertical movement following the line from top to bottom overlaid by a horizontal saccading movement away from and back to the line (Roth, 2012). As a result, we see a line when our gaze follows a zigzagging path to and off a material line. Now consider when we come to see a figure that we have not seen before, such as that in Figure 3.2. We do not initially see what there is to be seen because our eyes do not know the trace to follow to and from which they have to saccade. Once we have seen the figure, it is easy to see it again because the movement of the eyes reproduces itself. At this point the eyes have learned to move such that the figure appears – i.e., they follow the outline in a zigzagging pattern. But prior to the first time we see the figure, the gaze has to follow a pattern that it does not know to be a pattern. The pattern is alien. But it is the configuration in the drawing itself that the eyes eventually follow such that the pattern comes to be revealed to our consciousness. This is what Rorty describes in the opening quotation as the work of the makers of the new: they have to engage without knowing what they do so that the novelty may emerge. The same type of event will have occurred each time we have come to see something new in the duck-rabbit figure (Figure 3.3). A shift in the initial focal area and a different movement pattern will lead from seeing the duck to seeing the rabbit, and vice versa. In each case, the newly seen arises when the gaze follows an outline without knowing that it is following an outline. Sometimes, a new gestalt results in and through perception. That outline in the material teaches the eyes to move in a particular pattern. Once the eyes have followed the teaching, we come to see what there is to see. That is, an image does not just impress itself. Objective life activity is required: we have to listen actively or really engage with a perceptual ground. But we also have to be receptive to what exposes itself prior to any grasp of what has been coming at us. That is, the objective life activity allows the learning object to reveal itself to Birgit,

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myself, and possibly the reader (in the case of the mystery image, Figure 3.2, and, when it is new, in the duck-rabbit). The novelty does not reveal itself to us if we abandon engaging with the task. Thus, we lose any hope to find patterns when we no longer engage with the materials at hand. The engagement with the materials itself serves in the manner of the background in the painting, from which the new order (the ectype) extracts itself. Much as we do not “learn to see the painting” but “that the painting, by having given itself, teaches us to see it” (Marion, 1996, p. 76), the objective life activity brings understanding to life and makes the crossing from the strange into the familiar. Readers may ask themselves, why do we not remark the coming of novelty more frequently? It is indeed very common (a) to see something new even though one has passed a particular place for years, (b) to read something new even though one has read a text (such as research data) multiple times, or (c) hear something new even though one has listened to some recording over and over again (e.g. Roth, 2012). Such events remain unremarkable in the commonsense attitude, whereby a crossing has occurred from the invisible through the unseen and to the seen (and equivalently for the other senses). We do not experience such events as a change of the inhabited world but we act as if the world had always been like it is now only that we have not been attentive to it. Philosophers describe this event as one in which “one receives the stranger by effacing his strangeness at the threshold, it would thus never have us receive him. But the stranger insists, and breaks in” (Nancy, 2000, p. 12). The effect is so triumphant – as shown in the analysis above – that we forget the continuous evolution of our perceptual world. This has consequences for teaching because we tend to forget that they had at some point in their own lives failed to see what they now think that students ought they see (feel, hear, smell, or taste). In the end, we may announce, “I see,” “I hear,” or “I understand.” We have discovered a result in what our own doing has given rise to, like painters who, in stepping back, realize after the fact what their brush strokes have allowed to emerge. And precisely this stepping back indicates that the person who has effected a stroke of the pen, placed a splotch of color onto the canvas, “did not know, at the moment of effecting it, what he did, since, in order to see its effect, he must detach himself from his work, in order to learn, afterward, what visible appears there” (Marion, 1996, p. 80). To see what our acts have yielded (given rise to) is submitting to the donation, surrendering to that which appears in excess of our intentions. Stepping back allows the new order, the new structures to emerge in the person who has been integral part of the event. These new structures (e.g., O. orca in Figure 3.2), new ectypes arising from the perceptual ground, are the stigmata of the unseen that arise from the situation itself rather than being imposed from the outside, the observer. These new

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types, because they arise out of and from, may therefore be termed ex-types or indeed ectypes. An ectype is a copy from an original, an imitation, or a reproduction. Ectypes, precisely because they are internal impressions that arise in and from the objective perceptual field, erupt from the background, a rising of the unseen from the unknown to the point at which they appear. “The ectypes triumph over the unseen by escaping from the background” (p. 71). “The ectype surges from the unseen into the visible but the unseen still shows through in the background” (p. 40). What Birgit sees – as much as what I have seen in Birgit’s seeing – emerges, once we are done, as the result of a pre-noetic present, of which it is something like the afterglow. Learning science is often discussed in terms of its situated nature and the context – i.e., the “hands-on” tasks students are asked to do – as an empirical ground against which science concepts somehow take their signification. In painting, the background is that against which the figure (ectype) comes to be. Yet the analysis of painting shows that “the background is not added to the ectypes, but the ectypes originate as from their most intimate unseen and, henceforth, the most foreign” (Marion, 1996, p. 71). The background itself shows nothing. Instead, it is from and through the background that the new types (forms) suddenly appear, “miraculous survivors of the unseen” (p. 71). Once we recognize in our learning a true miracle – i.e., in Birgit’s first grasping of the lamp’s internal structure, in my first grasping of the importance of her seeing – rather than the mere result of constructive action, science educators have evolved a new form of appreciation. The objective life activity in itself, whether we consider the one in the classroom or in our research laboratory, reveals what comes to be seen, understood, imposing upon understanding of which it heretofore was unaware. That which is not understood or known also is not seen, and as “unseen remains inapparent as long as it is, and disappears the moment that it appears as visible” (p. 54). What will be knowledge in the future, today and before its coming, is inherently invisible. It therefore also cannot be aimed at – it, as French philosophers would be able to say making an association, is invisable.

The Alien and the Pathic Subject The perspective of novelty thought from the perspective of that which initially is invisible, unseen and therefore unforeseen, entails a rethinking of the subject. The traditional perspective on the self-sufficient subject and subjectivity goes hand in hand with the ideological discourse on identity. In the consideration of novelty emerging from the alien, the subject is not mere agent who constructs his/her identity. As my examples of perception show,

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the person is not entirely the subject of his/her activity, a pure agent who constructs knowledge in the head. Instead, when the gap suddenly and unexpectedly appears for Birgit, or when the O. orca suddenly appears when gazing at the mystery image (Figure 3.2), the image and the grasp arrive although we could not have intended them. That is, the approach to novelty – i.e., learning, development, and change – offered up here requires us to rethink the subject, because we need to consider passivity and pathos as much as agency. Concretely this means that we need to understand learners (and ourselves) as patients to whom things happen and arrive. As saturated phenomena, learning and development exceed intention and therefore the agential subjects that construct their knowledge and themselves. The perception-related examples provided show that additional dimensions of the subject include its nature as patient, who undergoes the encounter with the alien and the novelty that arises as much as it brings these about. Because the subject receives insights, the coming of which often is accompanied by the affect of surprise, is given something, and therefore needs to be thought as the above-noted gifted. Because the subject also is subject to that which advenes (arrives), it is also to be thought as the above-noted advenant. Novelty advenes. It does so through our senses. In one way or another, novelty always arrives through the senses, as something that affects us because of our senses that see, hear, smell, feel, and taste. All of these senses are bodily. It is through the body that the alien becomes our own. Our own is what makes sense. Thus, the sense of the body is the body of sense. The description of the events provided above allows us to see that the person is as much the agential subject of what is happening as it is subject and subjected to these happenings. In this formulation, the agential and the pathic express themselves simultaneously, such as hearing requires actively attending and receiving: that which we do cannot be separated from that which happens to us. In hearing, there is a coming (receiving) and a going (orientation to). It is only in this coming and going that the human mind can exist, on the borderline so to speak. Because of our pathic nature, we can be affected, not only physically but also emotionally: “The subjectivity of the subject is vulnerability, exposure to affection, sensibility, passivity more passive than any passivity, an irrecuperable time, un-assemblable dia-chrony of patience, exposure always to be exposed, exposure to expressing, and thus to saying, thus to giving” (Levinas, 1990, p. 85). Levinas thematizes the vulnerability that comes from exposure to the unknown, the alien, and the unseen. Just think of all the people afraid of the sciences, afraid to fail, afraid to engage with the unknown in light of the fact that they are evaluated on how well they do even though they inherently cannot know what they are doing. Taking this approach allows us to include the issues

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of affect, fear of the unknown, the feeling of insecurity and danger that comes when one is in an unknown situation, without markers of possible success, left to one’s own. It allows us to understand why young students get turned off from science, or why students may not be interested in open investigations when their goal is to get high marks on high-stakes examinations. In the encounter with the alien, novelty in the science classroom, science students and teacher cannot (fully) understand their situation. Nevertheless, they have to act (respond) without knowing what will come of it and without the ability to have a clear intention oriented to the object of activity. Yet they may respond, as we can see in the episode with Birgit, to the challenge. She and her group mates persisted, attempting to get the investigation work over more than 120 trials. Indeed, the only hope for them is to try, for if they were to sit back, they would not be able to learn. The implication for science classrooms is that there need to be safe spaces so that students do not need to be afraid to get hurt when they expose themselves to the alien, the unseen and unforeseen. For the students, as much as for their teachers, responding means “answering to a non-thematizable provocation and thus non-vocation, traumatism responding, before any understanding, to a debt contracted before any freedom, before any consciousness, before any present” (p. 26). While the answer is forming, that to which we answer still is unknown. Thus, we are answering “as if the invisible that bypasses the present left a trace by the very fact that it bypasses the present” (p. 26). That is, thinking learning in terms of pathos in the encounter with the alien (knowledge) also requires us to think it in terms of affect, being affected by something alien (foreign) to ourselves. It means thinking learning in terms of exposure, vulnerability, which is an “exposure to outrage, to wounding, passivity more passive than all patience, passivity of the accusative form, trauma of accusation suffered by a hostage to the point of persecution” (p. 31). That is, pathos points us to the role of the flesh in the constitution of sense and signification (“meaning”). The focus on the pathic aspects of learning should not be seen as a return to a position where the brain is viewed as a piece of wax into which nature engraves itself or that is shaped by some teacher. Rather, the theoretical move is similar to the one of understanding language not from the perspective of the speaker but from the perspective of the hearer/listener or the alien – without the ability of the hearing, the ability of speaking has no reason to exist. Indeed, for listeners, what is coming at them inherently is the alien, unknown, unheard, and therefore unheard-of. As listeners, we always risk being hurt by what the other says. And this risk exists in the very fact that listening not only means actively attending to another’s speech but also to

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open up to be affected. We do acknowledge receiving news from another; and we tend to let others know when we are hurt. Why then might we be tempted to think that the same phenomenon, novelty as a gift, does not pertain to the phenomenon of seeing? In the case of face-to-face communication, both speaker and recipient are grounded in a world common to them and the accompanying pre-understanding. Because the object engenders the direction of the movement and the capacity to move lies in the subject, learning has both agential and passive dimensions.

Coda The purpose of this chapter is to prepare the ground for developing a theoretical discourse that deals with the learning paradox, as described from the perspective of the learner (rather than as commonly done from the perspective of the knower): how the unknown and therefore impossible to aim-at motive of learning arises, unforeseeable, together with the knowledge, from a ground that is constituted by the perceptual field as a whole. I do so by squarely addressing the paradox: how something absolutely new can emerge – not by interpretation of something already given by means of what is already known but unforeseeably from the unknown. That is, I do so by conceiving of the learning event as a saturated phenomenon where intuition exceeds intention. The learning task therefore does not fill an expectation, something that the learner can derive from the already known unfolded in the process of interpretation, but rather another expectation: the unexpected. That which engagement in the task is supposed to give rise to, the learning, but which cannot be anticipated given it is unknown, cannot furnish its own intention. The intention has to emerge, come from the task, and give itself to the learner who cannot but accept the gift. The intention (e.g., to see the gap in the lamp or the O. orca), as much as that which comes to be known and understood, arises from darkness, the inaccessible realm of the alien with which we engage during each and every learning process. The approach I offer here is consistent with the radical approach to the animate body as the condition of knowing, because the “fact that we are affected by and exposed to the I-alien depends neither on our knowledge nor on our will, that is, from the so-called consciousness, but points back to our animate body [Leib]” (Waldenfels, 2006, p. 74). It is precisely the animate body (as distinct from the merely material body) with its living and lived senses that exhibits itself in agential and pathic manifestations.

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References Dembo, T. (1931). Der Ärger als dynamisches Problem [Anger as a dynamic problem]. Psychologische Forschung, 15, 1–144. Heidegger, M. (1977). Sein und Zeit [Being and time]. Tübingen: Max Niemeyer. Levinas, E. (1990). Autrement qu’être ou au-delà de l’essence [Otherwise than being or beyond essence] Paris: Librarie Générale Française. Marion, J.-L. (1996). La croisée du visible [Crossing of the visible]. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Marion, J.-L. (1998). Étant donné: Essai d’une phénoménologie de la donation [Being given: Essay of a phenomenology of givenness]. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Marion, J.-L. (2005). Le visible et le révélé [The visible and the revealed]. Paris: Les Éditions du CERF. Marx, K., & Engels, F. (1978). Werke Band 3 [Works vol. 3]. Berlin: Dietz. Nancy, J.-L. (2000). L’intrus [The intruder]. Paris: Galilée. Rorty, R. (1989). Contingency, irony, solidarity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Roth, W.-M. (2012). First-person methods: Toward an empirical phenomenology of experience. Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishers. Roth, W.-M. (2015). Becoming aware: Towards a post-constructivist theory of learning. Learning: Research and Practice, 1, 38–50. Roth, W.-M. (2016). Neoformation: A dialectical approach to developmental change. Mind, Culture and Activity, 24(4), 368–380. doi:10.1080/10749039.2016.1179327 Roth, W.-M., McRobbie, C., Lucas, K. B., & Boutonné, S. (1997a). The local production of order in traditional science laboratories: A phenomenological analysis. Learning and Instruction, 7, 107–136. Roth, W.-M., McRobbie, C., Lucas, K. B., & Boutonné, S. (1997b). Why do students fail to learn from demonstrations? A social practice perspective on learning in physics. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 34, 509–533. Roth, W.-M., & Radford, L. (2010). Re/thinking the zone of proximal development (symmetrically). Mind, Culture, and Activity, 17, 299–307. Roth, W.-M., & Radford, L. (2011). A cultural-historical perspective on mathematics teaching and learning. Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishers. Waldenfels, B. (2006). Grundmotive einer Phänomenologie des Fremden [Fundamental motives of a phenomenology of the alien]. Frankfurt/M: Suhrkamp.

PART 2 Continual Science Learning

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CHAPTER 4

Leveraging Families’ Shared Experiences to Connect to Disciplinary Content in Ecology Preliminary Results from the STEM Pillars Museum-Library-University Partnership Heather Toomey Zimmerman, Lucy R. McClain and Michele Crowl

Abstract This chapter considers the homeostasis of family relationships and familiar places and the novelty of science workshops facilitated by community science and engineering professionals. Like the other contributions in this edited volume, our STEM Pillars research and development effort balances the familiar or homeostasis, which is the tendency of people to maintain their current state of equilibria, with exposure to novel (i.e., unusual, interesting) science and engineering content. In this sense, our work uses a personallyrelevant family learning framework that considers intergenerational relations and shared experiences as a familiar context that can create a safe intellectual space to mediate exposure to novel STEM content during the scientific sensemaking processes. This chapter illustrates, first, how we used our personallyrelevant family learning framework to balance new and familiar experiences in the design of our intergenerational workshops. Next, we provide a case study from our research of how we analyze novel and prior experiences in our videodata from one workshop. We conclude this chapter with a discussion of the applicability of our approach for research and practice.

Introduction STEM Pillars is a research and development partnership to support rural families to engage in science and engineering learning opportunities in community libraries and small museums. Seven informal sites (five libraries and two museums) work together with university learning scientists to develop and offer hands-on, inquiry-based workshops for families with elementary-aged children (aged 6 to 10 years old). The science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) workshops are based on topics that are important to rural communities. © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_004

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The metaphor driving the STEM Pillars project is to identify science and engineering professionals serving as pillars of the community (in relation to their civic and everyday life experiences), to make them STEM Pillars of their community. STEM Pillars’ professionals were carefully chosen as technicians, scientists, and engineers who are comfortable with children and whose work is relevant to their local community. The goal of the STEM Pillars team is to enhance not just the STEM content learning outcomes for the families attending the workshops but also to foster positive STEM interests across rural communities through the long-term involvement of professionals who can sustain library and museum programs after our research project ends. STEM Pillars is funded in part by the federal [USA] Institute of Museum and Library Services. Partners include Penn State College of Education (lead organization), Schlow Centre Region Library, the three branches of Centre County Libraries (i.e., Centre County Library, Centre Hall Library, and Holt Library), Huntingdon County Library, Discovery Space of Central Pennsylvania, Shaver’s Creek Environmental Center, and STEM professionals from Penn State University, local businesses, non-profit groups, and two county conservation agencies. Like the other contributions in this edited volume, our STEM Pillars research and development effort balances the familiar or homeostasis, which is the tendency of people to maintain their current state of equilibria, with exposure to novel (i.e., unusual, interesting) science and engineering content. In this sense, our work uses a personally-relevant family learning framework that considers intergenerational relations and shared experiences as a familiar context that can create a safe intellectual space to mediate exposure to novel STEM content during the scientific sense-making processes. This chapter illustrates, first, how we used our personally-relevant family learning framework to balance new and familiar experiences in the design of our intergenerational workshops. Next, we provide a case study from our research of how we analyze novel and prior experiences in our video-data from one workshop. We conclude this chapter with a discussion of the applicability of our approach for research and practice.

Theoretical Framing In our prior work, the STEM Pillars team (Zimmerman & McClain, 2015) argued that over the last fifteen years, sociocultural theories have been key to understanding family learning in informal science education (see for example, Bell, Lewenstein, Shouse, & Feder, 2009; Davidsson & Jakobsson, 2012; Ellenbogen, Luke, & Dierking, 2004). Sociocultural theories are used to guide research and

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design projects where complex learning outcomes (i.e., interest, science practices, and conceptual understandings) are desired. Building on our prior work (Zimmerman & McClain, 2015; Zimmerman, McClain, & Crowl, 2013), our team has been documenting how family STEM learning research uses sociocultural or socioculturally-inspired theories in out-of-school settings. For instance, the following research on intergenerational learning science and engineering learning by setting is widespread across different institutions and events: – aquariums, zoos, and wildlife parks (Falk et al., 2007; Kisiel, Rowe, Vartabedian, & Kopczak, 2012; Rigney & Callanan, 2011; Rowe & Kisiel, 2012), – families’ homes (Bricker & Bell, 2015; Zimmerman, 2012), – family-oriented makerspaces (Brahms, 2014; Rosque, 2016) – science centers and museums (Allen, 2002; Ash, 2002, 2003; Gutwill & Allen, 2009; Palmquist & Crowley, 2007; Zimmerman, Reeve, & Bell, 2008, 2010; Tare et al., 2011), and – outdoor centers (Eberbach & Crowley, 2005, 2017; McClain & Zimmerman, 2014; Zimmerman, McClain, & Crowl, 2013). The STEM Pillars project builds from the successful sociocultural work above by conducting research and development on intergenerational STEM workshops that support meaning-making conversations in the community libraries and small museums. Our project employs the concept of personally-relevant learning (Zimmerman & Bell, 2014; Zimmerman, Perin, & Bell, 2010; Zimmerman & Weible, 2016) to advance informal learning research within our STEM Pillars museum-library-university partnership. We conceptualize personally-relevant learning as a specialized form of sociocultural learning that focuses on the supporting intergenerational sense-making conversations. Supporting conversations about STEM topics are consequential to families’ communities and attempt to create safe intellectual space that starts discussion from familial relationships and experiences. Personally-relevant family learning includes meaning-making talk where parents and children work together to translate abstract concepts and science practices into community-oriented knowledge. Personally-relevant family learning is dialogical in the sense that the science discussed becomes relevant to both parents and children. A review of the literature (Dahlstrom, 2014) found that narratives are an effective pedagogical support for people’s knowledge of, interest in, and engagement with STEM topics. Narratives, in our project, are spoken accounts that connect events through stories, metaphors, fictionalized examples, and the like. We posit that if STEM experts use narrative genres in our project’s workshops it could enhance children’s and parents’ interests (Renninger & Hidi, 2011) and understanding of STEM practices (Bell, Lewenstein, Shouse, & Feder, 2009). Consequently, the STEM Pillars project contributes a research-developed model on

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a design for narrative-based, inquiry-oriented family workshops that utilize personally-relevant learning. The project builds on existing library and museum workshop formats for family science activities and infuses these formats with research findings derived from parent-child learning studies, especially related to STEM. Informal learning research has shown that parents can guide youths’ participation by generating interest and collaboratively building knowledge (Crowley & Jacobs, 2002; Zimmerman, Reeve, & Bell, 2010). We rely on parents to guide social interactions in libraries and museums based on prior work that has shown that children learn science more deeply in an informal setting when assisted by an adult (Fender & Crowley, 2007); however, because parents can miss opportunities to support children fully in scientific reasoning (Gleason & Schauble, 2000), we are designing scaffolds (Pea, 2004; Tabak, 2004) within family workshops so the STEM experts can apply tools that serve as learning guides. Scaffolds, in educational research within the learning sciences, refer to questions, prompts, or tools that can be applied to support people as they are learning new skills or concepts (Reiser & Tabak, 2014). Scaffolds are then faded away as these new skills or concepts are learned. Building from research on how questions can serve as scaffolds to allow parents to support children in STEM learning (Allen & Gutwill, 2009; Eberbach, 2009; Jant, Haden, Uttal, & Babcock, 2014; Tscholl & Lindgren, 2014), we posit that STEM experts can also deploy questions as scaffolds in museums and libraries to support families’ science learning in ways that connect the novel science concepts to families’ existing experiences. The STEM Pillars activities engage family learners in the science conversations that rely on the practices of observing objects and then developing explanations for science phenomena or developing a design for an engineering problem. Our approach is in alignment with both the informal science learning National Research Council report (Bell et al., 2009) and the Next Generation Science Standards (NGSS Lead States, 2013). Observing and explaining requires scaffolds as learning supports, so that learners can engage in these complex STEM practices (Berland & Reiser, 2009; Eberbach, 2009; Jant et al., 2014; Land & Zembal-Saul, 2003; Land & Zimmerman, 2015; Smith & Reiser, 2005). Consequently, our STEM experts use questions as scaffolds to support science inquiry (Quintana et al., 2004; Yoon et al., 2012) in intergenerational workshops.

Methodology Although this research project takes place across four rural and one small-town communities, our larger goal is to explore the transferability of our designs

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to create other scientifically-meaningful experiences for youth and families in their out-of-school time. As such, we apply the STEM Pillars design model across these communities to ensure future implementations can embody personally-relevant, narrative-centered intergenerational learning. Moreover, this project forges a museum-library-university partnership to further develop tools and resources that can be broadly used across a variety of informal (and formal) learning settings in both rural and urban communities. We are actively building our partnerships to include diverse partner types, various kinds of STEM professionals, and to serve families from a variety of socio-economic levels so that our projects’ findings are applicable to other rural and smalltown libraries and museums. In this chapter, we focus our analytical work on one case study workshop from the Plants Around Us intergenerational workshop, which was led by a STEM professional with the pseudonym of Merle and hosted by a rural community library. The plants workshop led by Merle at this county library was selected because his facilitation style throughout the workshop included exemplary prompts that elicited familiar family experiences, as well as an introduction to novel botany content (scientific names of plants, plant-animal relationships, invasive and native plants). Other STEM professionals in our dataset also connected familiar and novel experiences in the way that Merle did, but no other STEM professional made as many familiar-novel connections. As such, we consider the case of Merle to be an example of what is possible when facilitators in informal settings teach with the intent to connect familiar family experiences to novel disciplinary knowledge in the life sciences.

Setting These four rural communities and one small town are situated within two counties inside Appalachian Pennsylvania. Across the large Appalachian region, 42% of the population is rural and underserved by traditional museums as cultural institutions (Appalachian Region Commission, n.d.). The overall rural Appalachian regions are especially economically challenged. Given the rural area of Appalachia is underserved by traditional indoor museums (a) much out-of-school learning occurs outdoors within the large tracts of parks, forest lands, and farmlands, and (b) planned out-of-school learning occurs at community events hosted by small museums, parks and nature centers or within rural libraries. The ubiquity of outdoor recreation in the area and the importance of community libraries as sites of learning creates

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a cultural alignment between the focus on our STEM Pillars project and the expectations of where and how Appalachian family participants learn about science and engineering. Within our project’s two county region, Schlow Centre Region Library serves a large number of rural and small-town people, with 273,600 visitors in 2015. The Schlow Library is popular with families; in 2015, forty-seven percent of the materials circulating were children or young adult media and 20,587 children attended library programs. The three branches of the Centre County Libraries (Centre County Library and Museum, Centre Hall Library, and Holt Library) and the main branch of Huntingdon County Library are smaller libraries with extraordinarily important resources to rural families through their onsite offerings and off-site programs (e.g., bookmobile). Discovery Space of Central Pennsylvania is a newer informal site (opened in 2011) that has created unique on-site programs and off-site outreach to rural families through innovative partnerships with rural libraries and off-site afterschool programs in rural schools serving youth ages 5–11. Shaver’s Creek Environmental Center (opened in 1976) is a nature center that is situated within a 7,000-acre University Experimental Forest. Shaver’s Creek nature camps are of the most popular and affordable in the area, serving hundreds of children aged 5–12 years old annually. Shaver’s Creek’s Outdoor School Residential Program partners exclusively with rural, underserved school districts in central Pennsylvania.

STEM Professionals Leading STEM Pillars Workshop To support personally-relevant family learning, STEM Pillars is collaborating with life sciences, earth sciences, and engineering professionals from Penn State University research groups, local businesses and nonprofit groups, and two county Conservation Districts. These STEM professionals have diverse training and positions, but they share a commitment to supporting rural and small-town life as citizens and scientists or engineers. The shared commitment of our STEM professionals to rural and small town life allows for the development of narratives that are grounded in local communities’ issues as well as relevant to broader disciplinary perspectives. These partners have all been previously associated with public programs at Discovery Space or with Shaver’s Creek to conduct outreach programs. Partnering with libraries was new to some of these STEM professionals as is working with families (not just children); however, they were willing to participate in the research of the

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intergenerational workshops based on the stories behind their own interests and involvement in STEM activities. For the remainder of the chapter we illustrate how personally-relevant learning concepts supported families to participate in science and engineering practices as they use familiar, shared experiences in their communities and homes as bridges to novel content related to plants. We first discuss how the design of the workshops was intended to balance novel and familiar experiences to support STEM learning and then we discuss how we analyzed our video data to understand how familiar experiences can support or hinder new learning opportunities.

Design of the STEM Pillars Intergenerational Workshops: Balance Novel and Familiar The team developed 5 workshops, one workshop per theme: Engineering My World, Weather Where I Am, Water Quality In My Community, Plants Around Us, and My Happy Valley Sky. The personally-relevant STEM family workshops that we designed within our project connect novel concepts from the earth sciences, life sciences, and engineering disciplines to extant, homeostatic table 4.1  Personally-relevant family learning connects community-oriented workshops in libraries, novel STEM content, and shared family experiences to support intergenerational science and engineering learning

STEM Pillars project theme

Novel STEM content

Familiar, homeostatic family experiences

Engineering My World Weather Where I Am

Biomedical engineers Meteorology

Water Quality In My Community

Watershed monitoring

Plants Around Us

Botany, pollinators Astronomy

Building together with LegosTM, tinkertoysTM, KinexTM, and blocks, Observations of clouds, temperature, and precipitation Connections between various substrate (concrete, grass, farmland) and water flow Wildflowers, native plants, invasive plant species, bees and butterflies Constellation observing, star gazing

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intergenerational connections and shared experiences in rural and small-town communities, as shown in Table 4.1. The workshops were designed to be about 60-minutes long because they were aimed at families with children aged 6–10. We started with an initial format (which we continue to revise) to balance the novel and familiar. For instance, we start each workshop with a narrative from a STEM professional that includes personal stories of interest in STEM at an early age and ends with a description of their current job. By including the genre of storytelling and other forms of narratives in our library programs, we intended to provide a comfortable atmosphere for the families attending the workshop right away. When possible, each STEM professional discussed how the science or engineering that they do fits into the local, rural, and small-town communities, which reiterated our workshop goal of referencing familiar, shared experiences to which families could relate. Next, the STEM professional led a hands-on, inquiry-based activity that introduced novel content for the families to engage with together around STEM objects and representations driven by a guiding question, as shown in Figure 4.1 (where families are engaged in the weather workshop together). To support this entry into unfamiliar territory, the research team provided each STEM professional a curriculum that included scaffolds (i.e., learning supports) in the form of questions, representations, and other learning tools. After working on the novel concept activity, each workshop included discussion time for the families to engage in meaning-making conversations

figure 4.1 Families engaged in the weather workshop during a library program that had people reflect on their prior experiences with weather in their rural community to make inferences to predict the weather with forecasting tools like a barometer to measure air pressure

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focused on bringing personally-relevant experiences (the familiar) to support understanding the new science and engineering content (the novel). It is important to note that the research team purposely designed the intergenerational workshop so that children could not complete the activity without an adult’s help. Parents were active partners in the activities; we posited this would support parent-child conversations that included reminders of prior, shared experiences to support the youth’s connections to the novel content being explored.

Study Design to Advance Personally-Relevant Learning in Informal Settings The STEM Pillars partnership is investigating how our model for personallyrelevant learning workshops can be refined for libraries and museums via a design-based research (DBR) methodology (Barab & Squire, 2004; Hoadley, 2004; Sandoval, 2014; Sandoval & Bell, 2004). The DBR methodology serves research and practice in the sense that it informs personally-relevant learning theory (research) and the development of an empirically-derived model that is broadly applicable for museums and libraries serving families in rural communities (practice). The Design-Based Research (DBR) Collective (2003) defines DBR as a method that includes “researchers working in partnership with educators seek to refine theories of learning by designing, studying, and refining rich, theory-based innovations” (p. 4). In DBR studies, researchers and practitioners investigate the learning processes and learning outcomes that result from participating in learning activities over multiple iterations of research and design. Our DBR study investigates how STEM experts’ stories shape parent-child conversations during hands-on, inquiry-based workshops. We collected video-based data from 14 workshops in iteration one of our DBR study. We adopted a video-based methodology because, in informal settings (such as the libraries and museums that we work with), conversations are considered both learning processes and learning outcomes (Allen, 2002; Ash, 2002; Leinhardt, Crowley, & Knutson, 2002). We use conversation analysis to investigate participants’ knowledge integration, sensemaking, and engagement in science practices (Linn, 2006; Zimmerman, Reeve, & Bell, 2008, 2010). Consequently, our primary data are video-based records of family talk and of family-STEM professional interactions, which were collected with ethical considerations for research (Derry et al., 2010) guided by our IRB application. We also collected artifacts produced by the families during the intergenerational workshops (as shown in Figures 4.2 and 4.3).

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figure 4.2 One family’s representation of parts of a flower where the family dissected a flower, taped the parts of a flower to paper, and labeled the parts of a flower’s reproductive system that are connected to pollination (e.g., stamen, pistil, sepal)

Research Question, Data Collection, and Analysis Design-based research projects investigate research questions that focus on both design and theory development; in this chapter, we investigate the following question via an analysis of one of the Plants Around Us workshops: How do narrative practices from one STEM professional foster existing intergenerational relationships and experiences as a means for supporting shared engagement in novel scientific observations and explanation practices? We answer this question via a qualitative case study centered on one STEM Pillars workshop taught by Merle (pseudonym). Merle’s ecological expertise included birds, plants, wildlife management, and Pennsylvanian ecological relationships. Merle’s experiences include time in the US armed forces and 27-years as a naturalist engaging in both scientific and educational efforts at a nature center. This case study focuses on Merle’s first time leading a STEM Pillars workshop. He was trained by project staff in the goals and given a curriculum with question prompts for families. He was an expert on the plant

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and pollination topic and did not require training on the science concepts covered. Attending Merle’s first workshop were 8 families (all had at least one child between 6–10 years old). These families, consisting of 24 people, were attending a regularly scheduled family program at their rural library that serves multiple rural communities in one county-wide branch. Within the Plants Around Us workshop, we collected data with two video cameras, multiple audio recorders, and multiple microphones to obtain qualitative data about Merle’s talk with the families and the families’ talk at their tables. Our goal was to capture data related to Merle’s informal teaching strategies (especially using narrative forms) and the families’ learning outcomes that they verbalized during the workshop or created as a final artifact. To analyze these data, we adopted the analytical techniques of qualitative interaction analysis (Jordan & Henderson, 1996). Here, we watched the videos in small teams in order to analyze the conversation on the transcripts of video records. We began our analysis with a broad interest on the themes of scientific meaning-making talk (Bell et al., 2009; Zimmerman, Reeve, & Bell, 2010) and focused more specifically on how the families used Merle’s narrative forms to mediate their sensemaking related to plants, native plants in their community, and the plant-insect connections more broadly applicable to science.

Data and Findings Related to Blending Novel STEM Ideas with Familiar Experiences In our analysis of family learning in the international workshop led by Merle, we found that the family contexts and connections to rural communities worked together to support intergenerational learning about science and engineering topics. The Plants Around Us library workshop started with a personal narrative of how Merle was interested in plants as a child growing up and as a young college student. He then introduced an activity of dissecting a simple flower (using plastic forceps) and observing the plants’ parts with magnifying lenses. The families then created a representation of the inside of a flower by taping the parts of a flower (e.g., stamen, pistil, sepal) to construction paper, as shown in Figure 4.2. Then Merle connected the science to the families via narrative conversational moves in alignment to our team’s personally-relevant family learning framework. From our analysis of the audio and video records from Merle’s Plants Around Us workshop, two themes emerged related to how familiar intergenerational experiences supported the families’ understandings of novel concepts

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in ecology via narrative. First, we found that Merle’s personal stories of his experiences in the rural community evoked stories and conversations within family groups where both novel content and existing experiences were valued and acknowledged. Second, we found that connection to species and their place in the local ecosystem were fostered by Merle’s evoking these species as friends within the rural community as short narrative forms. These two narrative strategies, elicited by conversational moves throughout the workshop, allowed familiar family experiences to act as a bridge to more novel botany and ecology content.

Scientist’s Personal Stories Evoked Families’ Personally-Relevant Conversations Throughout his time leading the STEM Pillars plant workshop, Merle made conversational moves that evoked families to discuss their own family and the family’s stories. We theorize his evoking personal narratives conversational move as a type of scaffold that supported the family’s connections to shared memories and personal experiences. To bring in family experiences as a possible connection to science, for instance, Merle discussed his own family. Merle commented to the families that his wife loved tulips, which in turned encouraged the library visitors to make a connection with Merle’s story (see Figure 4.3). We saw evidence of this in our dataset when, Bobby, a child attending Merle’s STEM Pillars plant program with his father and younger sister reminded his family that, “Mom loves tulips, too.” Merle’s stories of such a personal narrative (the known) encouraged Bobby’s family, and the others attending, to have the confidence to further explore the unknown during the workshop: the dissection of the tulip. Merle continued to evoke familiar experiences throughout the workshop as he brought in family items, such as a nature guide that he told the families he used to identify flowers in his backyard. A participant, Owen, who was attending with his brother and father, paid attention to the comment about backyards and repeated the name Plants of Pennsylvania. The families may not have conducted a flower dissection before, but by evoking the families’ prior experiences with books, such as nature guides, Merle created a connection to the science notebook (Figure 4.4) containing STEM information that our team provided to the families to take home. Families, such as Owen and his father, drew pictures in their science notebook as they discussed plants they had observed in their community together as a way to understand the new content that they were learning in the workshop.

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figure 4.3 One family’s yellow and green flower drawing in their science notebook provided, which was provided by the STEM Pillars program

Connection to Species, Biological Family, and the Local Ecosystem Were Fostered by Sharing Short Narratives Through sharing short narratives, Merle made a connection between the novel names of the species and biological families of plants and people’s other experiences with fiction and stories – allowing for a comfortable entry-point to learning about botany. We theorize his connecting narratives to science concepts conversational move as a type of scaffold that supported families’ viewing novel science concepts as being similar to their familial experiences. Merle told the families that the dandelion, for example, was French for the phrase “tooth of the lion.” Later in the plants workshop, he also evoked storytelling by giving agency to the flowers as if they were characters in a story. In a large group discussion, he asked: “Why do you think that flowers want to grow?” By evoking the genre of a fictional children’s book, families then imagined the rest of the

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flower growing story but then learn science details to complete the short narrative that Merle started. Throughout the Plants Around Us workshop, Merle’s origin story about the name of a dandelion as lion’s teeth and having the families imagine why flowers want to grow placed the novel botany and ecology content into the familiar narrative genre. These short narratives became gateways to science building by evoking the story-telling narrative genre that not only are the families are familiar, with but also is a genre common in the setting of a library. Merle’s workshop demonstrated that storytelling in the library workshops was a valuable tool to be utilized during the other STEM Pillars programs so that families could foster connections to novel science content being explored.

Discussion and Implications for Research and Educational Practice This chapter illustrated the utility of a personally-relevant family learning framework to create balance of novel STEM concepts and familiar family and community experiences to support research and development efforts for intergenerational workshops in library and museum spaces. We first described how the overall design of five workshops built on families’ prior experiences as a tool to learn about new science. We next presented a case study from one biology workshop that served as empirical example of how researchers can analyze learning moment to show the interplay of familiar genre and experiences are leveraged in sense-making moments. In our analysis, we found in personally-relevant family learning in our Plants Around Us workshop included two discursive scaffolds: (1) evoking personal narratives conversational moves and (2) connecting short narratives to science concepts conversational moves. Through carefully analyzing our data, we found storytelling and sharing short narrative forms by a STEM professional (e.g., sharing family memories, displaying books, and creating rural community connections) served as bridges that families used to connect to their prior experiences to novel biological concepts. As we explore the learning in other STEM Pillars workshops, we will continue to elucidate how family experiences, community knowledge, and familiar genres of narratives (such as storytelling) can support STEM learning in libraries and small museums. In sum, we have found that the STEM Pillars approach to developing personally-relevant learning experiences that leverage rural and small town residents’ experiences via evoking storytelling and personal connections

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support families in viewing scientific phenomena as meaningful and important to their home communities. Our project is positioned to inform design strategies for narrative-based intergenerational learning workshops in other contexts due to the multiple implementation of workshops. First, we are supporting the ways informal sites work with families and aligning with best practices in out-of-school time programming. Second, we adopted themes and design considerations from the empirical literature for sociocultural informal learning. We posit that our strategy for fostering family conversations enhances the opportunity for scalability to other sites of family learning. Third, we are using common programming formats and inexpensive objects, to increase the possibility of adoption of our materials by other sites. Finally, the STEM Pillars innovation can be broadly applied to other types of informal learning spaces because every informal education organization has the potential for engaging disciplinary perspectives and activating the STEM interests of their own community.

Acknowledgements This project was made possible in part by the Institute of Museum and Library Services, under award MG-77-16-0137-16. We appreciate our partners and families for engaging in this work with us.

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CHAPTER 5

When Stability Isn’t the Baseline Traumatized Children and Science Education Marilynne Eichinger

Abstract There are two ways in which homeostasis is encountered in this chapter on teaching and learning traumatized children. Such children may prefer the safety of whatever familiarity they have in their lives (their homeostatic “normal”) because fear may have led them to become less curious –less willing to explore. Teachers may not understand their unexpected reactions. Some children retreat. Others respond impulsively with seemingly irrational behavior. If novel learning experiences have a history of being detrimental to their safety, they will choose otherwise, limiting their ability to grow healthfully. There is also the assumption on the part of teachers that their students, in general, are entering the classroom from homes, from places of nurturing where they are sent to school ready to learn. This is the default homeostatic view of students’ basic backgrounds. This chapter discusses some of the common causes that lead to child trauma and learning difficulties in terms of the novelties these children face above and beyond mastering new content material. Utilizing brain and learning research and the experience of directing a science center, I suggest ways in which science educators (and others) can introduce teaching situations which can assist this group of learners to set and reach new goals.

Introduction Most children spend their early years becoming accustomed to their environment. They learn who to trust, where to find security, what to eat, and how to interact with others. Societal norms became imbedded in their minds, helping them to adapt to the physical and social world. They are surrounded by those who will assist them through the ups and downs of daily living. These children welcome experiences that teach them how to participate in adult society. They move comfortably through their days, adapting to social and political changes. As they grow older, they form new ideas, and master new coping mechanisms. © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_005

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These fortunate youth learn how to problem-solve, invent and create in preparation for adult activities (Rheingold, 1985). Those who are emotionally isolated or never experience love, grow up without positive role models to use as guides (Bergland, 2013). I witnessed children confined to their bedrooms during winter months and their barren yard during summers who were never allowed to interact with friends or neighbors. Their parents were not available to coach them through the most mundane civil behaviors. Each child was given a spoon to bring to meals that were then consumed while sitting on a dirty floor. They were not given the opportunity to hold a fork or shown how to cut food safely with a knife. These youngsters lacked common information needed for social interactions. Science literacy is highly important in a democratic society. At the most basic level, every citizen needs to know how to gather and analyze the wealth of information that floods the media. Voters cannot make informed decisions that affect their future if they distrust scientists, don’t understand statistics, and are ignorant about such things as the environment, vaccinations, energy, and genetics. As jobs in the future are automated with robotic devices, servicing them will have to be done by well trained workers. Yet, before we can worry about how to teach science, democratic principles, or a trained workforce, we must ask why so many people in our society are illiterate and unmotivated. I am therefore focusing in this chapter on my observations and research into what I see as the evidence and assumptions educators make about what is stable (and how learners maintain emotional – psychological homeostasis) and how the absence of this stability manifests itself as troubled youth are exposed to the novelty inherent in learning. Let me take a moment to explain that I am not an academic researcher but rather a curious educator. I have a Master’s degree in counseling psychology and spent my career running science centers where much of my attention was focused on teaching through interactive displays and hands-on education programs. Since museum professionals entertain people from every socio-economic group, I became a studious observer of individual and family dynamics. Each time I interacted with youth, whether Native-American, African-American, Hispanic, Caucasian, or Asian children visiting from public schools or private academies, I was reminded of Anatole France’s statement, “even a little dog is at the center of his own universe.” Each child must be treated individually and not as a statistic, for everyone approaches learning in his or her own way. To do this, we developed special programs to address the needs of various economic and cultural groups. We brought programs to their neighborhoods and sought funds that enabled children to attend camps, classes, and exhibitions. .

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My interest in traumatized youths intensified when my husband and I invited a twenty-year-old boy who had been living on the streets for four years to live in our home. Helping him transition so that he could participate in middle-class society with usefully employment in a career he loves, was quite a challenge. Motivating him to want to read and be curious about the greater world was not an easy task. Our family’s journey propelled me to investigate why he succeeded while many of his street acquaintances have not. I visited agencies that served homeless and runaway youths and explored Head Start programs where early learning begins. I was introduced to recent developments in neuropsychology focusing on traumatized brains and learned that the brain of children raised in dysfunctional families operates on a different plane than that of those from more stable households (McEwen, 2011). In traumatized youth, the limbic system, which controls flight-or-fight behavior, develops a complex web of synapses as a survival mechanism, while the cortex, where rational thinking resides, is less well endowed. With the slightest provocation, rather than problem-solve, the stressed brain is well prepared to go on instant alert and react in-the-moment, often irrationally. They are children who grow up apprehensive and scare easily. By the time they reach puberty, many find themselves in trouble with family, friends and the law. Currently, society pays a bit more attention to distressed youth and care workers use interventions that were previously unknown. As a young mother, I was taught that my children’s brains were fully developed by the age of five. Their brains were believed to be set in stone with their IQs frozen forever. More recent studies conducted with senior citizens have taught us otherwise (Cohen, 2012). It turns out that the brain continues to develop with learning taking place throughout life. Changes in hobbies, jobs, and exercise routines can establish new neural connections, providing growth for young and old alike. Brain research took a giant leap forward because of the military’s concerns with veterans returning from war with post-traumatic stress syndrome (National Center for PTSD, n.d.). Vets with battle disorders reported symptoms of sleeplessness, anger or irritability, loss of interest, feelings of numbness, trouble concentrating, and being constantly on guard. Children raised in traumatic households report similar manifestations. These studies in addition to investigations around hormones, social situations, and toxic environments are providing insight into victimized behavior in general (DeBellis, 2015). Many of the interventions used on vets have been adapted for use by teachers, caregivers, and professionals on stressed adolescents (PTSD, n.d.). Yet, despite our best efforts, there are youngsters who continue without having

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hope for their future. They become depressed because they see life without meaning and therefore with little value. Feeling powerless, these victimized youth remain in survival mode. It may take years of treatment to turn their negative feelings of self-worth around. Science curricula developed with cultural assumptions about readiness to learn at each level includes expectations for basic cooperative behavior. In this sense, homeostasis is the established social environment for learning and novelty is the constant, unexpected change that becomes reintegrated to produce a synergistic outcome. With troubled youth, however, unanticipated change may prevent science learning from taking place. Their immature brains have a difficult time grasping, analyzing, and incorporating new information in the same way as their more well-adjusted classmates. Yet, with appropriate intervention and a great deal of patience, much can be done. With a bit of understanding, educators can reach out to these unfortunate youth so that in the future they too will be less scientifically ignorant and more open to reason. To do so, the economic and social factors that underlie their upbringing must be understood. Let’s explore why so many youth fall through the cracks.

Traumatized Children – Who They Are There are 32 million illiterate adults in the United States (Huffington Post, 2014). That amounts to 14 percent of the population. When exploring these numbers more deeply, we discover that 21 percent of all adults read below a 5th-grade level and that 19 percent of students leave high school without knowing how to read. Illiterate adults breed illiterate youth. Illiteracy plays havoc with our country’s economy, for jobs are hard to come by for those who cannot read. It does not bode well for a democratic society either. Science literacy is especially important because humankind is increasingly involved in science research leading to sophisticated technology and invention. Environmental, industrial, military, and health issues that confront our nation require an educated population to vote for informed individuals. Without understanding the tenants of scientific methods, citizens are prone to listen to sound bites of disinformation given by those with vested interests. In the United States, trust of science is at an all-time low (Funk, 2015). Most illiterate people cannot fend for themselves but need some sort of government intervention. Three out of four welfare recipients are in this category (Literacy Project Foundation, 2013). Twenty percent read below the level needed to earn a living and will likely have to be subsidized throughout their lifetimes. Of unemployed youth between the age of 16 and 21, 50% are

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considered to be functionally illiterate. They are a challenge to public school educators who struggle to reach poor readers before they reach a stage of desperation. Adolescents who cannot read most often are the ones found leaving home to live on streets where they fall prey to sexual predators, drug addiction, and unimaginable dangers. Poor readers don’t fact check and read publications like science news but instead tune out when presented information involving higher level reasoning skills (Tankersley, 2005). Many of them still believe the earth is flat and dinosaurs roamed the earth at the same time as human beings. Websites promoting superstition and ignorance, such as The Flat Earth Society resurrected by Daniel Shenton in 1956, are thriving (Flat Earth Society, 2017). Celebrities such as Shaquille O’Neal and Kyrie Irving are outspoken believers in a flat earth that is free from gravity. They act as role models that attract a great many youth. Poorly educated people get their news through YouTube, from Twitter feeds, word of mouth, and rap songs and are quick to join bandwagons as blind followers. There are many reasons children are educationally handicapped. Some are victims of parental neglect while others face trauma from natural or all too often, man-induced trauma. Others live in households where drug and alcohol addiction is rampant or where they are verbally bullied and physically beaten. When removed from their homes by social service workers, all too many find themselves in an unsavory foster situation where they are worse off than they might have been if they had remained with their biological family (Shilhavy, 2017). And, there are also those discarded youth who are sent from their homes because they identify as part of the LBGTQ community or because of pregnancy. Children raised in poor and dangerous communities are often coerced to join gangs for their own safety. To insure loyalty, initiates are then required to engage in illegal behavior such as stealing, selling drugs or in extreme cases, killing (Carlie, 2002). Though gang members are involved in criminal activities, they also serve as a substitute family, providing jobs, drugs, safety against other gangs or the law, and even healthcare. Over time, initiates eventually gain confidence in their ability to survive with many enjoying the adrenaline rush that comes from living on the edge. Some even crave it. Prisons are filled with these adrenaline junkies (Fafard, 2002). Well over 300,000 children in the US fall prey to sex trafficking. They come from broken families, and are often runaways who are more likely to be from poor than middle or upper income households. To make matters worse, online predators have increased their presence in recent years. “More than a quarter of the world’s slaves are children who are forced to commit commercial sex

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acts, are forced into domestic servitude or employed in occupations that are mentally, physically, socially and morally harmful” (End Slavery Website, 2017). Child slavery is often found among immigrant families who live in a culture where indenture or slavery is an acceptable way of surviving impoverishment. Rather than being looked down on by neighbors, parents in dire conditions are not shunned for selling a child if it is the only means for the family unit to survive. Mental illness tends to show up in the late teens and early twenties, playing havoc with both youth and family. Adolescence is a time when hormones flourish and changes occur in the gray matter of the brain, making teens unpredictable and moody at best and in extreme cases, depressed and even suicidal. Mentally ill youth who lack parental guidance have greater difficulty getting through the emotional ups and downs and risky behaviors of teen years than those residing in stable households. State laws keep children in school until they are 16, after which they can opt-out. In years past, many of these youth joined the military or secured factory jobs if they decided not to graduate, but those options are not available today. there has been an increased national effort into keeping teens in school that has reduced the dropout rate from 30 to 19 percent. Still, too many youth take advantage of the op-out clause before they are prepared for work. According the National Center for Education Statistics 2,527,000 youth dropped out of high school in 2014 (US Statistics, 2017). Numbers for the past ten years when added together amount to 29,479,000 youth, and since 50 percent are functionally illiterate, that many teens have little chance for year-round employment. Many will join those sleeping in doorways and become a lifetime burden to society. In my city of Portland, Oregon, you cannot drive through town without passing tents, shopping carts and containers overflowing with trash from the homeless. Though there are many reasons an adolescent tunes out to learning and takes the extreme measure of leaving home, the underlying one is poverty. They live with parents who are unable to provide the support needed to survive. My Theoretical Perspective In order to understand why so many youth have learning difficulties, I turned to Maslow’s work and found the start of a rationale. In 1943, Abraham Maslow developed a motivational theory of psychology describing his insights into how people require their basic needs met before pursuing other needs. His ideas resonate for me today. Maslow’s graphic pyramid depicting a hierarchy of needs is a compact way of explaining that without adequate food, shelter and security it is difficult

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figure 5.1 Maslow’s graphic pyramid

to achieve a fulfilled life (McLeod, 2016). But physiological needs only scratch the surface, for love, belongingness, and self-esteem also have to be considered. Those living at a subsistence level give little thought to exploring their inner potential or for searching for meaning in daily activities. To survive, their complete focus has to be on fulfilling basic needs. It is not until reaching a higher level that cognitive considerations can be aroused. Curiosity, the desire to acquire knowledge, to understand and explore, to find meaning and predictability only occur in the individual with full stomach and secure shelter.

Traumatized Children: How They React in School Settings Let’s consider the baggage victimized children bring into the classroom where stressful home environments contribute to impaired physiological development during critical growth years. Many have severe depression from living in a continuous state of anxiety and fear (NCTSN, 2017). Chronic or recurrent physical problems such as headaches, stomachaches, rapid breathing, and heart-pounding are a few manifestations that are commonly observed. As children age, it is not unusual to see them self-medicate with drugs, alcohol, and over or under-eating. There are children who become hypersensitive to their environment and disassociated from their senses (NCTSN, 2017). Others may react by remaining in constant motion. Unable sit quietly, they are diagnosed as hyperactive, without focus.

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An increasing number of children arrive at school with severe problems that have to be dealt with before they can be taught. Those who are hungry can usually take advantage of the school breakfast and lunch programs available during the school year. Unfortunately, this option is not always available during vacations or school closures due to inclement weather. Some public schools augment government subsidized programs with donated food bank supplies. My daughter worked in a Seattle middle-school as an ombudsman to distressed students and their families. One of her tasks was to oversee the acquisition and assembly of donated food for students to take home each Friday afternoon. Even with this assistance, the donation was often not enough to satisfy the needs of a growing child. One adolescent told me that during his school years he was always hungry and stole to satisfy his cravings. It is difficult to learn on an empty stomach. There are children who arrive at school dirty with bad body odors and others who come inadequately clothed for cold weather. They may step into the classroom after spending a fitful night in the family car or in sidewalk sleeping bag. Insensitive classmates may laugh at their plight and bully them because of their odors or poor dress. It is difficult to learn without a good night’s sleep or when you have to go to school with classmates who look down on you. At every grade level, teachers have to work with youth who are functionally illiterate. It is not unusual to get a child who has been passed on from one grade to the next even though the requirements have not been completed. Since the Bush administration’s efforts began and with Obama’s continued focus on failing students there was an effort to identify and give extra assistance to slow learners. Results of the Trump administration’s policy have yet to be determined. Despite added attention, many children have a difficult time playing catch up. By the time they reach high school, they are often troublesome, unengaged adolescents who make classrooms unruly. Poor readers don’t understand their assignments, are bored, have a hard time following discussions, and show little interest in completing homework. Rather than draw attention to themselves and be labeled as stupid, they find it more advantageous to become class clowns and distract others from focusing on their inadequacies (Sun, 2012). I have been told by poor students that school is boring and a waste of time. They say reading is unnecessary since everything they need to know can be found on Facebook or YouTube. As they become young adults they follow sound bites from Tweets, Instagram, and text messages. Scientific facts, sources, and analysis are off their radar. Since distinguishing between fact and fake news is impossible, they follow friends and celebrities they admire. Children who have tuned out to learning require a great deal of individualized on-going attention. The teacher’s job can be overwhelming if facing a

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classroom full of multi-need students for disturbed children react in unexpected ways. Fear may lead them to retreat, become less curious, and prefer safety before exploration. For others it may trigger impulsive responses with seemingly irrational behavior. Since new experiences have historically been detrimental to their safety, it stands to reason that animalistic behavior will be used instinctually. During classes, many victimized children space-out by daydreaming and not paying attention to the lesson. They are uninterested in learning and easily lose track of time. When impulsive behavior replaces rational thought, the student can be unpredictable, volatile, and extreme. Believing that they are powerless in the face of adversity, they compensate by acting defensively and aggressively when feeling blamed or attacked. Such youth move toward high-risk behaviors like self-mutilation, unsafe sex, and high-speed auto races. For those without hope or purpose, life has no value and little meaning. Many of these youth believe they will not live beyond their teens. It can take years to turn negative feelings of self-worth around in order to adapt to societal norms. Abused children have difficulty thinking about their future or reasoning clearly, for each day depends on their ability to focus in the moment. The idea that actions have consequences is far from their thoughts. A youth counselor told me of a twenty year old girl who had purchased an automobile from her sister. Though she was repeatedly reminded to register the ownership in her name, she never did. When her sister committed a felony, the innocent young woman was chased by police, charged, and put her in jail. Her automobile was immediately impounded. She had quite a time proving that she was not the offender. Since teachers increasingly have to manage overcrowded classrooms filled with children residing at the lower rungs of the pyramid, it is no small feat to inspire their students to achieve academically. Often compelled to act as psychologists as much as educators they teach without having a “normal” assumption of stability. Rheingold (1985) wrote in summary, “To cope with the new, we fall back on the familiar, on what is known. But the new experience always causes the old framework to crack and thus does development proceed.” This is true for traumatized children too, but their responses to novelty are likely to be directed by the flight and fight parts of their brain rather than the problem solving parts. Their conclusions are thus not likely to be what educators have in mind.

Is Change Possible? Research Findings and Potential Remedies This question of whether change is possible is asked at a time when welfare roles are increasing and the long-term unemployed remain jobless. Can we turn the situation around and insure that everyone has a chance to climb

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Maslow’s ladder? Some believe that the US is becoming a third world country and that there is not much that can be done about a situation they view as hopeless. I fall in the other camp for I am cautiously optimistic that we are on the right track to providing a future for thousands of previously neglected kids. We have learned a great deal from research conducted with returning vets with brain injuries, from those with Post Traumatic Stress Disorders (PTSD), and from seniors experiencing dementia. A number of interventions have been developed to stabilize and improve the ability of victims to operate effectively. Youth with traumatic childhoods are benefiting from these findings by learning to calm their brains through mindfulness, yoga, and meditation techniques. Other educators are focusing on language development. Hart and Risley frustrated by poor results coming from high-quality interventions aimed at language development, decided to see what was happening in the home (2003). Their findings were more of a surprise than anticipated for they discovered that 86 to 98 percent of the words children used by the age of three are developed from their parents’ vocabularies. They discovered that in low-income welfare families children hear about 616 words per hour, in working class families 1,251 words per hour, and in professional households approximately 2,153 words per hour. By the time children reached 4 years, those from high-income households hear 30 million more words than those on welfare. Talking patterns, ways of interaction, and trends that influence long-term vocabulary growth had already been established. In addition to the number of words spoken, the study also unveiled that the amount of praise given to children in high-income households was far greater than that given in low-income families. Hart and Risley’s findings and those from follow-up studies suggest that reading skills and school success in general are influenced by vocabulary development during preschool years. To equalize a poor child’s experience requires intense intervention, for it is difficult to learn without the words to communicate experience. This study is pivotal in directing the first steps educators have to take to bring about positive change in the learning patterns of deprived children. Some communities are going about this by seeking help from medical and early childhood professionals. Physicians tuned into the word gap issue, who meet with parents in well-baby clinics, emphasize how important it is to vocalize and read to their infants and toddlers. Community organizations such as Save the Children actively engage in fundraising for books to be taken home from clinic visits. The Children’s Reading Foundation organized a national Read with a Child campaign to encourage parents and caregivers to read at least 20 minutes a day with their child. According to the Foundation’s literature, “Students who

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start kindergarten behind form the largest group of dropouts, and they have less than a 12 percent chance of attending a four-year university.” Their website also provides instruction in how to prepare children for kindergarten. Over 100 school boards, community foundations and local organizations fund this family-based program whose message is ”for communities to succeed, all children must succeed” (Children’s Reading Foundation, 2017). Interventions initiated for failing students are part of the reason the dropout rate has improved over the past ten years. But 19 percent is still high, and there are many older teens who missed the latest programs for children not meeting standards. Working with dropouts will involve expensive resources, understanding, and patience for damage has to be reversed that has festered for many years. An important first step is to calm flight-and-fight survival reactions. Once they are controlled, the educator can help the rational part of the brain develop. Most of the youth agencies I explored employ strategies mentioned above, such as mindfulness, mediation and yoga training, all designed to quiet the mind. Their bulletin boards and websites were complete with announcements of offerings. Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction is a mental-health adaptation of a Buddhist practice, is a form of meditation. The idea behind it is to focus on one thing in the moment with each breath taken and each step walked. Over 250 hospitals around the country use this technique to help patients overcome depression, anxiety, chronic pain and stress (Baum, 2010). The Mindfulness in Schools Project (MiSP) began in 2009 in the United Kingdom. Its promoters formed a not-for-profit organization with the mission to help young people learn mindfulness skills while still in school. Their website contains a wealth of information in support of adolescents who complete mindfulness training. They claim that their approach yields fewer symptoms of depression, stress, and a greater sense of well-being (MiSP, 2017). MiSP’s message is spreading around the globe and starting to be embraced by schools everywhere. The program’s aim is to improve the resilience and well-being of children so that throughout their school careers and beyond they will have inner support. Many schools in the United States have started introducing mindfulness concepts in early elementary grades. According to MiSP over 4,000 teachers worldwide are currently trained practitioners. Older students who have not benefited from mindfulness training in their early years could be helped significantly if concepts were also available in upper grades. Regular practice helps students to slow down and concentrate. Without a calm mind, youths have a difficult time engaging in academic learning. Yoga is also widely embraced by schools. Yoga in Schools: Phys Ed for the 21st Century was written by Jennifer Mattson of the Kripalu Center for Yoga &

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Health (Mattson, 2014). The center works with school educators and wellness experts to share the calming effects of yoga. She discusses how children who practice Yoga learn to recognize the connection between mind and body. The practice helps them regulate emotions and behaviors in healthy ways. Findings from the Kriplau Yoga in Schools Project show that children “exposed to these techniques are less reactive, more optimistic, and better able to focus, concentrate, and interact with their peers” (Mattson, 2014). Mindfulness, yoga, and other forms of meditation change brain patterns that regulate resilience to stress and emotional reactivity (Sutherland, 2014). They are valuable assets when combating bullying, ADD or mental-health issues. There are other behavior modification techniques such as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) which was introduced in1989 by Francine Shapiro, Ph.D. It was developed to soften emotionally charged memories of past traumatic events. Dr. Shapiro discovered that by engaging in a particular type of eye movement that disturbing thoughts and upsetting images could be relieved (EMDR, 2017). Her work evolved to treat trauma and resolve feelings of grief, anxiety, depression, and chronic pain. Though in most cases, disturbed children need to be seen by professionals outside of the classroom, it helps to support change when teachers and parents understand the causes of disruptions and treatments used to ameliorate trauma. Returning a child to the environment that produced dysfunctional behavior in the first place is counterproductive. It is important to remember that when teaching disturbed children who are disruptive or dissociated from activities that understanding that they are living in shells made from fear is more productive than labeling them bad or incorrigible. These students are just trying to survive without the tools many of us absorb from healthier homes. To bring about change requires paying attention to the variety of ways people learn. Though developing a curriculum that embraces individual learning styles takes time, it helps marginalized children learn and gifted children blossom. The word smart was redefined by Howard Gardner, Hobbs Professor of Cognition and Education at Harvard Graduate School of Education. His epic book, Frames of Mind, was re-released in 2011 after a 30-year run (Gardner, 1983). His approach has helped me better understand how to assist traumatized children. Gardner’s theory was based on observational evidence showing that individuals approach topics in different ways. He believes that rather than one, we have many computer-like evaluation sieves in our brains. Each of us have some of these more dominant than others. Gardener says, “We all have the multiple intelligences. But we single out, as a strong intelligence, an area where the person has considerable computational power. Your ability to win regularly at a

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game involving spatial thinking signals strong spatial intelligence. Your ability to speak a foreign language well after just a few months of ‘going native’ signals strong linguistic intelligence (Strauss, 2013).” Gardner suggests that each of us has one or more ways of seeking knowledge depending on our primary intelligence mode. He writes of eight intelligences that include: 1. Linguistics, the effective use of language and words. 2. Logical-mathematical – the ability to calculate, experiment and solve problems. 3. Visual-spatial – awareness of the surrounding environment. 4. Musical/ auditory – thinking that demonstrates a sensitivity to rhythm and sound. 5. Bodily-kinesthetic – use of the body to solve problems or make things. 6. Intra-personal – understanding of other individuals. 7. Interpersonal – understanding of the self. 8. Naturalistic intelligence was added later to include those who are ecologically sensitive to the world and its environment. Gardner’s ideas are important to distressed youth because they present a way for the educator (parent, counselor, and teacher) to treat each child as special and to reach out in ways that reinforce his or her strengths. He suggests that teaching be pluralized and that important material be presented in a variety of ways (e.g. Through stories, works of art, diagrams, role play). He also stresses that teaching should be individualized as much as possible. Many of the homeless youth I met have stronger visual, auditory and tactile intelligences than linguistic ones. In order to stay alive, they constantly practice them by sieving information through these preferred modes. Handson activities that use tactile, visual, and auditory input can break through learning barriers. Trade and art programs can help those with kinesthetic intelligence while music reaches out to auditory learners. This does not mean that abused children do not need to read or become scientifically literate. What it does suggest, is that content may best be introduced through their individualized way of taking in information, as a first step to stimulating interest in the written word. It is necessary to evaluate Gardener’s ideas with some flexibility since his research is often anecdotal. But, my observations led me to agree with him so as president of several science centers, I took Gardner’s writings to heart. Interactive devices (exhibits) were designed to appeal to different types of learners. Auditory, tactile, visual, olfactory, naturalistic, and occasionally interpersonal and interpersonal approaches were used to appeal to the diversity of ways visitors process information.

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Building hands-on educational experiences, however, requires designers who understand more than Howard Gardner’s theory of intelligence. The interactive movement that exploded during the 1970s was founded on the teachings of educators who demonstrated that children were not simply little adults as previously believed. First among them was Jean Piaget, a biologist, who spent his life closely observing and recording intellectual activities in infants, children and adolescents (McLeod, 2015). Through his explorations, Piaget continuously searched for a developmental theory of thinking. He noticed the patterns of children’s thinking at different ages and became interested in their reasoning processes, trying to understand how a child’s mind developed. Much of his work was directed towards labeling the developmental ages and stages a child goes through before reaching adulthood. Piaget postulated that until about the age of fifteen children are not capable of adult reasoning. Due to contemporary imaging technologies, we now believe that full maturity does not occur until the mid to late twenties (Mental Health Blog, 2015). When considering Piaget’s theory it is important to note that, though his developmental stages generally hold true, the exact years assigned to each stage are not the same for every child. He identified the Sensory Motor Period from 0–24 months when knowledge of the world is limited. During the Preoperational phase from 2–4 years the child initiates a period of increased verbalization. Between 4–7 years the youngster enters a more Intuitive Phase where speech becomes developed and language is more social and less egocentric. In the early part of this phase the child has an intuitive grasp of logical concepts. The period of Concrete Operations goes from 7–11 years. It is characterized by more organized and logical concrete reasoning. Children are less egocentric and aware of external events yet can’t quite think abstractly or hypothetically. The last category in Piaget’s theory of Cognitive development is the Formal Operational stage which goes from 14 years to about 25 and is characterized by being able to think about multiple variables in systematic ways, formulate hypotheses and consider possibilities. They can also consider abstract relationships such as justice (Shroff, 2015). Widely read physician, Benjamin Spock helped make the ages and stages children pass through understood by parents. Maria Montessori, also a physician, had a similar interest in child development which she incorporated into materials she developed for use with working class children attending Casa die Bambini, an Italian pre-school (Montessori, 2017). During her life she designed aids for young children that are developmentally sequenced to lead them to become independent learners. Science centers’ organization is similar to that in a Montessori classroom. Exhibits are grown-up versions of Montessori

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materials and the exhibit floor is designed to give freedom of movement to encourage visitors to do what they want, when they want to do it. John Holt, in the 1970’s became a critic of public education and a proponent of youth rights. In his books, How Children Fail and How Children Learn he advocated homeschooling (Ranenga, 2004). His belief was similar to Montessori’s in that he claimed that children will learn best if they are provided with a rich and stimulating environment. Educator, A.S. Neil, took ideas in another direction at Summerhill, a private school he founded in Great Britain (Neil, 1962). Neil established a democratic system that gives teachers and students equal involvement in operating the school. Summerhill enables students to have freedom from adult authority yet requires them to maintain responsibility to the group for their actions. As with Montessori and Holt, children are free to choose what, when, and where (within reason) they study. Frank Oppenheimer, became a force in science education by redesigning experimental laboratory apparatus to be used by the general population (Cole, 2009). His original ideas were tested with high school and university students in Colorado before moving on to establish the Exploratorium in San Francisco. Oppenheimer was able to simplify scientific concepts with a series of interactive exhibits that involved little reading, a great deal of intuition, and playful experimentation. Open ended possibilities inspired curiosity in those who were otherwise science-shy. Once involved, visitors experienced “ah-ha” moments that gave them a sense of accomplishment. The Exploratorium expanded its programs to include extensive teacher training opportunities. Science centers are continuously evolving with Maker (or Tinkering) spaces as popular current exhibits (Morin, 2013). The idea grew out of Maker Magazine and was inspired by Burning-Man Festivals which celebrate art and technology. Tinkering, inventing, and trial and error experiences are promoted in innovative laboratories dedicated to science, technology, and the arts. By incorporating the arts it adds an A to STEM (science, technology, engineering, and math) education. Those who embrace STEAM incorporate the arts to attract students to science. STEAM initiatives support Howard Gardner’s ideas by giving credence to the student’s primary intelligence which may or may not be through STEM subjects. For instance, with STEAM teaching, musically inclined individuals might be enticed to study electronics by making their own electric guitars. In such a project, they learn about electronic components, fractions (music notes), carpentry (measurements), and wave theory. Those who sing in accompaniment to their instruments practice reading. If they are in a group they may be engaged in team work or performing. Those attracted to hands-on projects often do not realize they are engaged in academic learning. To them it may be seen as play for they are having a good time.

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Because science centers employ a combination of education philosophies, they stay dynamic and appeal to a mass audience. Schools would engage students more if their curriculums were also based on Piaget’s developmental stages, Gardner’s ideas of intelligence, Montessori’s use of materials, and Neil and Holt’s allowance for freedom of movement. A rich environment with hands-on activity stations would encourage independence, self-direction, and life-long learning. By incorporating reward systems and praise for advancement, eliminating time constraints, and focusing on self-esteem, fewer students are likely to disengage. My fear is that without planning for broad changes in the way we teach, we will continue to have too many illiterate, fearful, bored children who fall through the cracks and become a drain on society. A child I worked with presents an example of a way to proceed. The student who did-not, would-not read eventually expanded his outlook through hands-on activities. The boy was a tactile/kinesthetic/visual learner but not linguistically inclined. Discovering that he liked skateboarding, his kinesthetic intelligence became the starting point for getting him to read. When given books about skateboarding, though below grade level, he devoured them. He even began refashioning and selling skateboards as a hobby. His kinesthetic abilities made him want to understand math concepts involving mass and speed. He enjoyed reading because he wanted to know more about other men who craved adventure through skateboarding. As the youth aged, he chose a profession that put him in high places which gave him plenty of opportunity to use his kinesthetic abilities and to meet his need for adrenaline. His active limbic system craved the excitement that comes from risk taking and instead of engaging in illegal activities, he was directed to a productive way of satisfying his needs. Adolescents in general want excitement. Primitive societies had coming-ofage challenges that youth had to meet before they were welcomed into the community (O’Neil, 2007). Though first world countries no longer require survival skill demonstrations, there is much to be admired in coming of age challenges. Children might benefit by having physical and mental challenges that demonstrate mastery. Outward Bound, for example, has developed the type of challenges that schools could offer their kinesthetic learners. Their trials teach youth to work in teams and to trust one another. Their programs can be used as starting points for teaching physics, engineering, math, nature and language. Amusement park rides are another way of providing STEM excitement for they can be used to introduce physics, math and engineering concepts to adrenaline seeking children. Amusement Park Physics, developed by Annenberg Learner, a

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media and telecommunications, teacher resources, and professional development organization is an excellent resource (Amusement Park Physics, 2017). The concept of resiliency is important to developing educational success with difficult learners. Resiliency takes into account all aspects of the individual’s background. Social, personal, family and community situations are investigated in order to identify which strengths can help build self-esteem. Both child and mentor join together to identify goals that utilize the youth’s abilities in order to maximize the likelihood of developing positive feedback loops. In the case of the boy who loved skateboards, not being afraid of heights and a willingness to take risks were his presenting strengths. By putting him in situations where he could succeed, opportunities opened for those around him to offer praise. As his self-esteem improved, he began to enjoy his trade which required industrial manuals to be read and classes taken in safety. Work required that he understand how to measure and use fractions. As the student progressed through a training year, he was given responsibility to oversee others. With each success, he was awarded coupons that could be exchanged for snacks or clothing, items poor children crave. His entire program was designed to encourage resiliency. Another agency I visited works with Native-American children, using a similar approach developed in the 1980’s by Terry Cross of the National Indian Child Welfare Association (Cross, 2014). Cross, proposed a Worldview Model, suggesting that life has harmonious relationships based on a balance of context (culture, community, mind (cognitive & emotional processes) body (genetic, gender, condition, health) and spirit (learned teachings, metaphysical and innate, both negative and positive). The Worldview Model is intuitive and not oriented around time. It is based on balancing four parts that affect life. For instance, consider a boy removed from his native land, placed in a foster home, and sent to an inner-city school that doesn’t value open spaces or tribal activities or values – the homeostatic environment in which he grew. The youth will be out of balance in the novel school’s setting and likely to experience difficulties. Until he is brought into balance, learning cannot take place. Establishing balance may require intervention with foster parents and classmates in addition to working with the disturbed youth. The Worldview Model teaches the child to value his or her Native background and gives lessons in how to navigate in a new environment. The youth is helped to recognize strengths such as observational skills, which may have been developed while living on the reservation. Educators and foster parents are encouraged to use these strengths as an entry point to communicating with the youth.

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Individualized Science Instruction Requires Caring for Balance Smart, intelligent, intuitive, creative, and brainy? Absolutely. Each one of our children belongs in a TAG program for the gifted and talented. Many of these programs do not have grades, for teachers are more interested in progress in developing axilla in critical thinking and creativity. Unfortunately, even in wealthier schools, TAG is an option offered to few. I feel sorry for the teacher who tries to reason with an irate mother who does not like the grade her child was given. Though berating the teacher may not be the best response, at least someone cares about the child. A concerned parent with a struggling student usually gets involved by insuring that homework is completed or hiring a tutor when needed. What of children who have no adult overseeing their activities – no one to push them to achieve and let them know how special and loved they are? Those enrolled in low income schools are rarely given the opportunity to participate in TAG offerings where classes are small, students taken on field trips, and open-ended challenges are the norm. Instead, they are directed to sit quietly before teachers who demand hours of busy work and engage them in reading circles that kill their ambition and desire. Children have different needs. Some appear to have an easy time while others struggle with hidden demons in a less than tolerant society. Teachers are challenged by attention deficit hyperactive children just as they are by those with mental disorders caused by abusive families. Both groups have difficulty staying focused and attentive to their lessons. Unfortunately, public classrooms are large and overworked educators prefer attentive students who don’t cause disturbances. Energetic kids have other ideas in order to get attention. They want to move about and will do whatever they can to avoid being put under the scrutiny of a disciplinarian. Since these troublemakers are bored and unwilling to engage in what they perceive to be busywork, words of praise are seldom sent in their direction. When my youngest son was in second grade his teacher decided that he was not gifted and therefore should not take the test to get into TAG. She came to that conclusion because he was ADHD and one of those children who found it difficult to stay put. He had a wiggle problem and was not the teacher’s favorite child. My husband and I insisted that he be given the opportunity to test for the TAG program. With this advocacy his results gave him opportunity. He had a very high IQ and was invited to join the program which he greatly enjoyed. Most of his activities involved hands-on learning in what today would be called STEAM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, and Math) initiatives. He was permitted to advance at his own rate and was praised for creative endeavors that deviated from the norm. Interestingly, TAG classes tend to be full of action.

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Students are free to roam because they are given projects that require physical movement along with creative thinking. Science experiments were widely used and hands-on learning was the norm. After observing my son’s TAG classes from afar, I came to the conclusion that every child could benefit by being part of this type of program. I cannot see a reason that even the poorest of students could not learn from a more interactive approach. At least they would have fun and school would not be thought of as a burden.

International Comparisons with the US Finland and China are at the top of international test ratings for high school students. When 15 year olds in Shanghai took the three year Program for International Student Assessment (PISA) test of academic abilities they topped all 70 participating countries. Reporter Harry Low of the BBC World Service, made me wonder if all countries should be using the Shanghai Maths method (Low, 2017). Teachers specialize for five years in one subject aimed at a specific age group. Along with mastering the topic, they gain a thorough understanding of how children learn. Once employed, they are given adequate time to plan and refine lessons and tested respectfully. Part of their training is in how to work with children who are falling behind. School days are longer than ours, going from 7 until 4. Lessons are shorter, lasting only 35 minutes, after which there 15 minutes of unstructured play is allocated. The school day accommodates time for children to move about with freedom. In the early grades, teachers move through academic material slowly and deliberately, insuring that each child in the classroom masters the topic before moving on. They ensure that every child has a foundation from which to learn more complex material. In later grades, there is space and time for mulling and thinking and attention is given to creative-problem solving activities. Finland follows another model (Hancock, 2011). Teachers, like those in the US, work with children who arrive with different cultural outlooks and abilities. Half of the schools in Finland do not have a homogeneous population as most Americans assume. Immigrants from Somalia, Iraq, Russian, Estonian and Ethiopia, among others populate their classrooms. Many of these children come from survival situations. They left war torn homes, went without food and water, and watched in horror as family members were separated from them to be jailed or killed. The teacher’s goal in the classroom is to identify academically weak students and try to understand their circumstances in order to be able to adapt their program to the child’s needs. They operate with a “let’s do whatever it takes” attitude. Special educators, psychologists, nurses and social

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workers meet regularly to develop individualized programs for those having difficulty adjusting. Finland does not mandate standardized tests except for one administered at the end of high school. Even though they are not put in competitive situations, Finnish children manage to be among the best educated in the world. An example follows: A first grade teacher introduced a science lesson by taking his class outside, dividing them into small teams, and giving each group laminated cards containing simple directions. One read, “find a stick as big as your foot,” while another directed the children to gather 50 rocks and acorns and lay them out in groups of ten. The children had a joyous time moving about the local park to gather the requested materials. When they returned from active field learning it was easy for the children to sit quietly to discuss what they found and share their observations. The example reinforces the need children have to move about. Until a child is calm and capable of focus, it is useless to have lessons requiring rational thinking and problem abstract solving. To manage and meet testing requirements in the US, educators are forced to take a one-size-fits-all approach to teaching. Since they have little time or freedom to vary the curriculum, they teach to the norm, often to the test, rather than to the student. Their goal is to cover the required curriculum whether the child is ready to learn it or not. Though traumatic circumstances beyond the youth’s control may interfere, there is little that can be done to accommodate the student’s special needs. If we are to prevent youngsters from becoming school dropouts, it is imperative to change the way we work with unpredictable, traumatized, and neglected kids. They will blossom when attention is given to their personal interests and to the way they learn best. Most children glow when achievements are rewarded with honest praise, so a goal is to find something the child can satisfactorily accomplish so that the teacher will want to give praise. Since we are working with kids and not robot, they should be allowed out of their seats at regular intervals and not forced to concentrate on academic subjects for extended periods of time. It would help if more administrators realized that teachers also need time to think creatively about the work they do. Evaluating each child’s abilities and interests and develop individualized plans is a slow process. Putting socialization on a par with academic attainment is the best way to educate the whole person. Those entering school from survival backgrounds are at special risk if educators are not flexible. Since so many children find it difficult to sit still and focus, handson learning is a natural way to reach them. Science projects are well posed to help these children as long as they are structured in small parcels that lead to positive learning outcomes. Lots of small steps provide opportunity for many instances of

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success. Interactive opportunities that permit physical movement and adjustable timelines will give even the most reticent child a chance to participate. The scientific method as a way of problem-solving is one of the most important lessons to learn in science class. Being curious, observant, identifying questions, developing a hypothesis, conducting experiments, analyzing data and drawing a conclusion that forms the basis for the next investigation is mind expanding. Once this way of thinking is embraced, it not only helps children understand the natural world but provides them with skills to approach problems they will face throughout their lives. Hands-on learning is the basic tenant of children’s museums and science centers. Activities provide intrigue and opportunities to solve mysteries. Their exhibit halls are interactive labs that permit young visitors to wander from place to place and experiment in their own time frame. They are true “free schools” fashioned on Summerhill and Montessori. Yet even hands-on activities without helping guides are not enough for children who have to overcome years of neglect. I became aware of this when I took an older youth to a forensic exhibit at a science center. I believed it would engage him since most visitors enjoyed the high level of interaction required to solve crimes. The first barrier to his enjoyment was an entrance sign with a long explanation stating the purpose of the display. He ignored reading the block of words and pushed forward to see what followed. Once inside the exhibit hall the first experiment also had a sign giving directions in how to proceed. The boy, a poor reader, promptly ignored this sign as well and instead began playing with the material on his own. Since the task was not intuitive, his efforts were easily frustrated. I felt his anxiety mount as he moved the material around the table without knowing what to do. To save face, he claimed that the display was boring and that he wanted to go outside to smoke. The first station he approached had set in motion a negative reaction to the entire display. It was not long before he asked to leave. I tried to calm him down by reading the signs out loud, which helped somewhat, but not enough to make the experience pleasurable. He was embarrassed to be treated as a child. Though elementary school children commonly exhibit his frustrated type of behavior, it is rarely seen in those over twenty years. Four years later the same display was featured in another museum and we paid it a visit. By this time I had interacted with the now young man for several years. His reading skills had improved and he was a calmer, more engaged person. Since he had forgotten his previous encounter with the exhibit, I was curious to see his reaction when we returned to see it. He approached the display as though a different person inhabited his body, for he was immediately engaged and stopped at every station to complete the task. He even helped struggling younger visitors running from station to station, to slow down and complete the activities.

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Over the years I knew him, his youth’s path to learning was never straight but curved around a great many roadblocks that were constantly placed in his way. When he was able to read with ease and knew how to calm himself during difficult challenges, he became increasingly curious and engaged in problem-solving. Because he loved what he was doing and wanted to succeed, he accomplished tasks without stumbling. Children who do not graduate from high school have a 90 percent chance of spending the rest of their lives on the streets. It takes creativity, intuitiveness, and patience to bring about change. Let’s take cues from past masters who have worked successfully to turn young lives around. We do not need to reinvent the wheel but rather need the will to use it. The tools are at our disposal to solve a puzzle that needs rearranging.

References Amusement Park Physics. (2017). Annenberg learner. Retrieved from http://www.learner.org/interactives/parkphysics/parkphysics.html Baum, W. (2010). Mindfulness-based stress reduction. Psychology Today. Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/crisis-knocks/201003/mindfulnessbased-stress-reduction-what-it-is-how-it-helps Bergland, C. (2013). Parental Warmth is crucial for a child’s well being. Psychology Today. Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-athletes-way/201310/ parental-warmth-is-crucial-child-s-well-being Carlie, M. (2002). Into the abyss: Part 11: How to join a gang. Retrieved from https://people.missouristate.edu/michaelcarlie/what_i_learned_about/gangs/ join_a_gang.htm Children’s Reading Foundation. (n.d.). Read with a child campaign. Retrieved from https://readingfoundation.org/readingfoundation Cohen, P. (2012). A sharper mind, middle age and beyond. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/22/education/edlife/a-sharpermind-middle-age-and-beyond.html Cole, K. (2009). Something incredibly wonderful happens: Frank Oppenheimer and his astonishing exploratorium. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Cross, T. (2014). Relational worldview: A tribal and cultural framework of improving child welfare outcomes. Keynote presentation, University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, MN. Retrieved from https://storify.com/CASCW_MN/terry-cross-relational-worldview-a-tribal-and-cult DeBellis, M., & Zisk, A. (2015). The biological effects of childhood trauma. P|US National Library of Medicine National Institutes of Health. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3968319/

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EMDR. (n.d.). What is EMDR? Psychotherapy Center. Retrieved 2017, from http://psychotherapy-center.com/therapy-methods/emdr-eye-movementdesensitization-and-reprocessing/ End Slavery NOW. (n.d.). Retrieved 2017, from http://www.endslaverynow.org/learn/ slavery-today/child-labor Fafard, M. (2002). Adrenaline rush: The science of risk. Documentary IMAX Film. Flat Earth Society. (n.d.). Retrieved 2017, from http://www.theflatearthsociety.org/ home/index.php/about-the-society/team Funk, C., & Rainie, L. (2015). Public and scientists’ view on science and society. Pew Research Center. Retrieved from http://www.pewinternet.org/2015/01/29/publicand-scientists-views-on-science-and-society/ Gardner, H. (1983). Frames of mind: The theory of multiple intelligences. New York, NY: Basic Books. Hancock, L. (2011). Why are finland’s schools successful? Smithsonian Magazine. Retrieved from http://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/why-are-finlandsschools-successful-49859555/ Hart, B., & Riseley, T. (2003). The early catastrophe: The 30 million word gap by age 3. American Educator. Retrieved from http://isites.harvard.edu/fs/docs/ icb.topic1317532.files/09-10/Hart-Risley−2003.pdf Huffington Post. (2014). The US illiteracy rate hasn’t changed in 10 years. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/09/06/illiteracy-rate_n_3880355.html Literacy Project Foundation. (2013). National institute for literacy, national center for adult literacy, the literacy company, US census bureau. Retrieved from https://nces.ed.gov/naal/ Low, H. (2017). Should all countries use the Shanghai maths method? BBC World Service Magazine. Retrieved from http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-38568538 Mattson, J. (2014). Yoga in schools: Phys Ed for the 21st century. Huffington Post. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kripalu/post_7033_b_4908253.html McEwen, B. (2011). Effects of stress on the developing brain. The Dana Foundation. Retrieved from https://dana.org/Cerebrum/2011/Effects_of_Stress_on_the_Developing_Brain/Mc McLeod, S. (2015). Jean Piaget | Cognitive theory | Simply psychology. Retrieved from https://www.simplypsychology.org/piaget.html McLeod, S. (2016). Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs. Simply psychology. Retrieved from http://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html Mental Health Blog. (2015). At what age is the brain fully developed? Mental Health Daily. Retrieved from http://mentalhealthdaily.com/2015/02/18/at-what-age-is-thebrain-fully-developed/ MISP. (2017). Mindfulness in schools project. Retrieved from https://mindfulnessinschools.org/research/ Montessori, M. (2017). Introduction to Montessori method. American Montessori Society. Retrieved 2017, from https://amshq.org

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Morin, B. (2013). What is the maker movement and why should you care? The Huffington Post. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brit-morin/what-is-themaker-movemen_b_3201977.html NCTSN. (2017). Symptoms and behaviors associated with exposure to trauma. National Child Traumatic Stress Network. Retrieved from http://www.nctsn.org Neill, A. S. (1960). Summerhill. New York, NY: Hart Publishing Company. O’Neil, D. (2007). Rites of passage. Palomar College. Retrieved from http://anthro.palomar.edu/social/soc_4.htm PTSD: National Center for PTSD. (2017). PTSD in children and teens. US Department of Veterans Affairs. Retrieved from https://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/family/ptsdchildren-adolescents.asp Rarenga, P. (2004). .John Holt and the origins of contemporary homeschooling. Paths of Learning: Options for Families and Communities. Retrieved from http://www.greatideas.org/ Rheingold, H. (1985). Development as the acquisition of familiarity. Annual Review Psychology, 36(1), 1–17. Shilhavy, B. (2017). New study confirms foster care system harms children. Health Impact News. Retrieved from http://medicalkidnap.com/2017/01/05/new-studyconfirms-foster-care-system-harms-children/ Shroff, A. (2015). Piaget stages of development. WebMD. Retrieved from http://www.webmd.com/children/piaget-stages-of-development#2 Southwick, S., Bonino, G., Masen, A., Pinter-Brick, C., & Yehuda, R. (2014). Resilience definitions, theory, and challenges: Interdisciplinary perspectives, psychotraumatology. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4185134 Strauss, V. (2013). Howard Gardner: ‘Multiple intelligences’ are not ‘learning styles’. Washington Post. Retrieved from https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/answersheet/wp/2013/10/16/howard-gardner-multiple-intelligences-are-not-learningstyles/?utm_term=.2c094f15b96a Sun, R., & Shek, D. (2012). Student classroom misbehavior: An exploratory study based on teachers’ perceptions. The Scientific World Journal, 2012, 1–8. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3415159/ Sutherland, S. (2014). How yoga changes the brain. Scientific American. Retrieved from https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-yoga-changes-the-brain Tankersley, K. (2005). Literacy strategies for grades 4-12. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. Retrieved from http://www.ascd.org/publications/books/104428/chapters/TheStruggling-Reader.aspx US Department of Education Statistics. (2017). Retrieved from http://www.ed.gov

CHAPTER 6

Homeostasis and Novelty as Concepts for Science Journalism A Re-Interpretation of the Selection and Depiction of Scientific Issues in the Media Lars Guenther

Abstract When formal school education ends, for most people mass media become the most important and often the only source of information about science, scientific work, and scientific findings. Thus, media create informal learning contexts when they inform their readers, viewers, and listeners about new advances in science and technology. In these contexts, mass media have the potential to actively influence how people feel and think about science. That is why it is important to investigate how journalists select and depict scientific issues in the media. Homeostasis and novelty can be seen as related to news factors that guide a science journalist in his or her professional work, i.e. when selecting from a pool of potential issues. While the factors consonance, continuity, and composition can represent tendencies of homeostasis; unexpectedness, curiosity, and topicality can represent novelty. In addition, the terms can be applied to historically describe the way science journalists have reported on science, and how others have expected them to report. This chapter will discuss homeostasis and novelty as concepts for science journalism, with a special focus on the media’s representation of scientific evidence (= (un)certainty of scientific results).

Introduction1 In modern societies, both traditional (e.g., newspapers, radio and television (TV)) and new media (e.g., the Internet) have important and often rather difficult roles. They are “informational conduits between complex and often uncertain science […] and a public who on average [has] little formal science training and a limited understanding of the scientific process” (Scheufele, 2013, p. 14044). Media are largely perceived as the main information source about newsworthy events, and this is especially true for scientific information (Dunwoody, © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_006

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2008). Lay people (i.e., those people that do not make contact with science and scientific findings in a professional or formal school/academic context, and who, therefore, are not experts) (Burns, O’Connor, & Stocklmayer, 2003), largely depend on the information they get through media. Even more so, when reporting on science, media create informal learning environments when informing their readers, viewers and listeners about new developments and advances in science (Kessler, Guenther, & Ruhrmann, 2014). Sometimes media even provide science- and health-related advice and broader implications for society. For Germany, to give one example, we know that more than half of the population (54%) is generally interested in scientific information in the media (European Commission, 2013).2 While new media (i.e., the Internet) have recently become the main source of scientific information in the United States of America (Brossard, 2013), other parts of the world still mainly rely on traditional media.3 For many people, media are not just the main source of scientific information, but also the only source they use to get information about science (Cacciatore et al., 2012). Nowadays, new developments in science and even health-related information are not predominantly communicated, for instance, from a medical practitioner to a patient, but from the media to an audience largely consisting of lay people. In these contexts, mass media have the potential actively to influence how lay people feel and think about science, in some cases even what science-related behaviours they do or do not adopt (Guenther, 2017). It is questionable, however, to what degree lay people actively make contact with scientific information via the media, and to what degree they only receive scientific information because journalists have decided to report on science, or to include certain scientific information in a report on various topics. No matter how (in)actively lay people make contact with scientific information via media, science journalists are the ones responsible for the representation of science, scientific work and scientific findings in the media (Dunwoody, 2008; Wormer, 2008). Science journalists, whichever definition of the concept is applied, predominantly report on news from fields such as medicine, natural sciences and technology (Wormer, 2008). Broader definitions of science journalism also include the reporting on social sciences and humanities (Guenther, 2017). Science journalists are therefore defined as a professional group of people, who select and depict scientific stories to various audiences via the media (Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016). Some science journalists work exclusively on science coverage (i.e., a genuine science journalist) or work for many different journalistic beats (i.e., a general journalist, or generalist) and only from time to time also work on a science story. Although (genuine) science journalists are only a small subset of all

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journalists and science stories only a minor component of media coverage (Dunwoody, 2008), science journalism has nevertheless an important task. In a professional context, science journalists use different selection and depiction criteria when they pick from a pool of potential stories and when they decide how to cover a science story (Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2013). Selection criteria have largely been described in gatekeeping theory (e.g., Shoemaker, 1991) and in research on news factors and news values (Badenschier & Wormer, 2012; Mellor, 2015; Staab, 1990). Depiction styles have rather been described in framing research (Entman, 1993; Matthes, 2014). Research in this area acknowledges that a science journalist can never cover all the stories available on a given day (Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016) and therefore has to make careful choices. To what degree homeostasis and novelty are relevant criteria that can also be applied to professional routines in science journalism will be discussed in the current chapter. This approach might be helpful to re-interpret the selection and depiction of science stories by science journalists, and to put science journalism-related traditional routines and recent trends into a broader perspective and context. In this chapter, homeostasis in science journalism is understood as the professional orientation towards traditional journalistic norms and values that have been developed in a professional context over decades, while novelty is seen as new trends in science journalism that either add to existing, traditional norms and values or go beyond/against these norms (for these two terms, see Katz and Avraamidou in this volume). New trends in science journalism will be largely related to an increasing influence of digitalisation. As will be seen, local and global challenges for science journalism predictably lead to new trends in professional journalistic routines, affecting some of the established traditional journalistic norms, while it will be important to maintain a homeostasis-novelty balance in which science journalists keep some of their norms and values and, therefore, their status as disinterested and credible sources of information for lay people (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). To use a relevant example, this chapter often has a special focus on science journalists’ understanding and representation of scientific evidence in the media, i.e., the degrees of certainty and uncertainty of scientific findings, as understood by science journalists.

Homeostasis, or the Traditional Journalistic Selection and Depiction of Scientific Issues A good starting point for the present chapter might be to look at what we know from gatekeeping theory, to better describe (science) journalists and

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their professional routines and practices. While there is much work available for journalism in general (Shoemaker, 1991; Shoemaker & Vos, 2009), there are only a few studies available for science journalism in particular (Badenschier & Wormer, 2012; Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2013; Mellor, 2015). These few studies highlight that professional routines and values of a science journalist might differ from those of journalists working in other journalistic beats (Artz & Wormer, 2011; see also Staab, 1990). When focussing on these generally accepted norms and values of (science) journalism, in the context of the present chapter, they can be related to the concept of homeostasis. The picture of the gatekeeper represents a metaphor of the powerful role journalists have in a modern, democratic society. Journalists are the ones who decide what and what not to report on in the media. This opens the door for more public awareness, understanding and sometimes even evaluation of an issue. The metaphor highlights this: a journalist is at the gate, and passes on issues to the public sphere, or not. Following the gatekeeping theory, five different levels that model various influencing factors of journalistic selection have to be differentiated. First of all, at the individual level of gatekeeping, characteristics of a journalist and his/her personality are located (Shoemaker, 1991). For science journalists, we know that personal interests are an important factor when selecting issues (Amend & Secko, 2012; Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016). For Wormer (2010), to give an example, journalists’ personal interests and own medical expertise are among the reasons for the dominance of medical issues in German science journalism. Furthermore, journalistic role conceptions seem to influence issue selection at this level. While researchers in general journalism often described these roles as information providers, critics or entertainers/ service providers (Weischenberg, Scholl, & Malik, 2006),4 in science journalism much attention has been given to the fact that science journalists seem to be too uncritical in their reporting (Wormer, 2008). This leads to the point that science journalism is overall rated as a positive form of journalistic reporting. The reason for this is often attributed to the close relationships between scientists and journalists (Dunwoody, 2008). According to Amend and Secko (2012) as well as Rosen, Guenther, and Froehlich (2016), science journalists nevertheless predominantly see themselves as (neutral) providers of information rather than as educators of the public, entertainers or science popularisers (see also Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2013). The second level of gatekeeping is the communication routines and practices level, including news values (Shoemaker, 1991). The more newsworthy a story, the more likely it is that a journalist will select it (Shoemaker & Vos, 2009). While news factors are features that a journalist attributes to an event, the

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combination and intensity of news factors determine the news value of the event (Staab, 1990). The immediacy of an event and the relevance to the general public seem to be important news factors in science and health journalism (Hodgetts et al., 2008). Factors such as unexpectedness and composition (variety of issues) seem to be relevant (Badenschier & Wormer, 2012), as well as the novelty of an issue, controversy and local relevance (Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016), and the direct connection to potential (scientific) applications (Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2013). In addition, there seem to be non-news values, i.e., factors that are not relevant for science reporting, such as information about funding or limitations of research (Mellor, 2015). It has to be added that some researchers disagree with this, rather stating that uncertainty and evidence-related information can be seen as prominent (and unique) news factors in science journalism (see Guenther, 2017). Also important at this level, in surveys some science journalists highlighted that issues need to fit into a narrative, or a storyline, to get selected and depicted in the media (Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2013). The third level, the organisational level, deals with influencing factors that are located at media organisations (Shoemaker, 1991), such as media characteristics and hierarchies within a media organisation (see also Shoemaker & Vos, 2009). At this level, the influence of news conferences and editors in chief on individual journalists is discussed (Hodgetts et al., 2008). This relates to how much power an editor in chief has compared to the single journalist that is working on a story. In a case study, to give an example, Clark and Illman (2006) show for the New York Times Science Section how organisational shifts and the size of the section affected variations on the issues that were covered by the journalists. In a comparative study, Rosen, Guenther, and Froehlich (2016) show that such organisational factors, and especially news conferences, seem to be predominantly important for science journalists in Germany, and less important in countries such as Argentina and France. Outside of media organisations lies the social institutional level of gatekeeping (Shoemaker, 1991; Shoemaker & Vos, 2009). Issue selection, at this level, is influenced by the sources a (science) journalist uses. What the research literature tells us, is that science journalists depend on scientists as the main sources of information, but the journalists also use (prestigious) scientific journals, scientific conferences and science press releases (Dunwoody, 2008; Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016). Also at this level, science reporting and issue selection, furthermore, are influenced by the (perceived) perception of the audience (Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2013; Göpfert, 2006), for instance, when a journalist asks him-/herself what information, portrayed in which way, the audience would like to receive.

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Lastly, national differences, along with cultural, societal and ideological factors become important at the social system level of gatekeeping theory (Shoemaker, 1991). This level acknowledges that there might be unique national factors that affect journalistic selection and reporting on science. In a case study, Rosen, Guenther, and Froehlich (2016), for instance, compare working routines of science journalists in Argentina, France and Germany. They show that there seem to be quite some differences between the countries, affecting all levels of gatekeeping that have been introduced before (see also Bauer & Howard, 2009). As highlighted earlier, all these factors located at various levels in gatekeeping theory, can be seen as factors that represent homeostasis in science journalism. That means that they represent traditional norms, values and routines that have been developed and applied in a professional context over years. However, gatekeeping theory is predominantly looking at the journalistic selection, while less attention is given to the question of what actually happens when a story is selected. That is why it is also necessary to look at research on journalistic depiction of science stories in the media. The choice among several depiction styles of science reporting can also be seen in the context of homeostasis, because it is largely perceived that traditional practices come into play when a journalist decides how to cover a story. The literature predominantly uses the framing approach to describe various depictions of stories in the media. Framing is a process during which (scientific) issues, after they have been selected by a journalist, are put in a newsworthy framework or perspective that resonates with journalists’ and lay people’s cognitive schemas (Scheufele, 2013). According to Entman (1993), the process of framing also recognises that in a media story, some aspects of reality are depicted, while others are not (see also Matthes, 2014). This is another process of selection. To make issues more salient, a media text will usually highlight so-called frame elements: problem definitions, causal interpretations, moral evaluations and treatment recommendations. Together, they create a frame (Entman, 1993), or a certain perspective on an issue.5 To give an example: a problem definition usually refers to a problem and introduces the issue the report is about, as well as its main actors. The problem and the issue, for instance, could be Alzheimer’s disease and scientists, medical doctors and patients come together in this story to report on new developments in research into Alzheimer’s disease. In this example, the causal interpretation could be that until now no treatment helped to cure the disease and a lack of research could be responsible for that. This will most likely be evaluated negatively. However, the recommendation in this example highlights a new approach to develop a treatment, first results are presented and a positive prognosis is given.

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Media frames are often described as patterns in media texts, in which issues are depicted as a combination of different frame elements. These patterns can be identified across several texts. At the same time, for lay people frames open a context to relate to and interpret an issue in a meaningful way (Matthes, 2014). To give an example from recent research, Ruhrmann, Guenther, Kessler, and Milde (2015) identify frames that are used by journalists to represent various degrees of scientific evidence in German science TV shows. They find that scientific uncertainty (for instance stemming from research methods) is often put in the context of scientific or social controversies (frame 1) as well as risks for the society. This frame has to be separated from a second one, representing science with scientifically certain data, without even justifying this certainty. Shows on TV that fall under this frame offer a descriptive overview of scientific facts. For instance, to explain what a certain disease or research in a certain field is. Medical risks (frame 3) are rather depicted as risky and negatively evaluated. While TV clips with this frame refer less often to uncertainty, they highlight problems for the individual and the society as a whole. A fourth frame, lastly, represents uncertainty in a scientific context (for instance, researchers that disagree on a certain scientific outcome) without negative evaluations or risks. For all these frames and further descriptions, see Ruhrmann, Guenther, Kessler, and Milde (2015). In addition, there seems to be a tendency among science journalists to frame uncertainty in the context of risks, and scientifically certain findings in the context of potential benefits and applications of science (Guenther, 2017; see also Guenther, Froehlich, & Ruhrmann, 2015). The frames that were introduced so far refer to the representation of scientific evidence in TV clips about molecular medicine. Besides this very specific frame analysis, other researchers have tried to identify the general frames of science reporting in the media, such as the well-known ethical, legal and social implications (ELSI) frame or a frame called Pandora’s box that deals with unknown consequences of research and uncertain long-term effects (Scheufele, 2013). Other frames highlight social progress through science, or economic developments created by science. Researchers generally agree that a science journalist, when selecting and depicting science stories, follows journalistic rather than scientific norms. This has been highlighted, for instance, by the fact that science stories in the media rarely contain information about the research process, about scientific methods and other relevant information to assess scientific evidence (Dunwoody, 2008; Hijmans, Pleijter, & Wester, 2003). At the same time, journalists as a criterion of (journalistic) quality rather focus on accuracy when they come to situations in which it is hard for them to decide what source of information is true and what source might not be true. Especially when two sources

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provide competing information, science journalists rather tend to stay objective (usually by quoting sources rather than using their own words) and they balance different arguments (Dunwoody, 2008). However, the journalistic norm of balance can also lead to wrong perceptions of a particular field of research on the side of lay people. This happens for instance, with the coverage of global warming in the United States of America. What Boykoff and Boykoff (2004) highlight is that equal space in the media for opposing views from scientists does not represent the true scientific picture (in which one side of an argument usually weighs more than another). This actually leads, from a scientific point of view, to a false balance. Understandably, differences between journalistic and scientific norms have often led to criticism by scientists regarding science journalism.6 While the selection and depiction criteria introduced in this part of the chapter can all stand for homeostasis, there are some new trends and challenges for both science journalism and individual science journalists that have to be focussed on next. In the context of this chapter, they will be summarised under the term novelty.

Novelty, or New Trends in Journalistic Selection and Depiction of Scientific Issues Without novelty, we can hardly imagine change and progress. Novelty can be good and/or bad. It is interesting to note that from a theoretical point of view, novelty can go hand in hand with traditional norms and values, can add to these traditional practices or even go against them. Nevertheless, when studying the research literature on current trends in science journalism, researchers seem to paint a rather dark picture when it comes to the future of science journalism and maintaining traditional norms and values. Some researchers say that science journalism is in crisis, at least in some parts of the world (Bauer & Howard, 2009), which usually means the Western world. One of the challenges that exist has to deal with the changing infrastructure for traditional media and an increase of alternatives that can be found in online environments (Brossard, 2013). According to Scheufele (2013), three trends that lead to the described crisis have to be highlighted. 1. There are shrinking audiences for traditional media, and this also affects news about science. This seems to be especially true for young audiences that do not seem to consume traditional media in the same way as older generations. As highlighted earlier, in the United States of America the Internet has already become the main source of science information

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for the general public (Brossard, 2013), and other parts of the world are expected to follow this trend of increasing digitalisation. In addition, news-related content found online is often free, while consumers of traditional media are expected to pay for their news. This has been described as a changing business model of journalism (Bauer & Howard, 2009). 2. A related second trend is the shrinking size of news reports on science in traditional media. For instance, some established newspapers in the United States have reduced the quantity of content they publish or they stopped their print versions all together. Consequently, there is a cutback of science news. Scheufele (2013) provides an example: in 1989, 95 newspapers in the United States of America had weekly science-sections. This number then dropped to 34 newspapers in 2005, and 19 newspapers in 2013. 3. The third trend is a logical consequence: the number of science journalists working for traditional media has decreased significantly. Often, if media are in a crisis, it is specialised journalists that are the first to go. While these trends seem to be dominant in the United States of America, Canada and Great Britain (representing the Western world), science journalists in other parts of the world also had serious concerns about their future working as journalists (Bauer & Howard, 2009). It has also been highlighted that many science journalists who lost their jobs have moved to safer and better-paid jobs in science PR (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). Besides changing infrastructures for traditional media, related trends have to be highlighted as well. Nowadays, scientists rely less on traditional media to bring attention to their research findings, because they can use direct tools of communication in online environments (for instance, via social media networks or blogs) without relying on an intermediate gatekeeper (i.e., usually the journalists). In this way the scientists can reach potentially huge audiences (Brossard, 2013). At the same time institutionalised science public relations (PR), such as those at universities and research organisations, has been increasing over the last decades (Fahy & Nisbet, 2011). There is some threat that implies that PR might actually become the best form of science communication, while one would naturally think that a scientist would be the best expert to explain his or her research, and a science journalist the most disinterested and therefore most credible source of science news (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). At the same time, in online environments, lay people can easily communicate about science or comment on science information themselves (Brossard, 2013). Hence, the pool of direct communicators and commentators increased significantly with increasing digitalisation. There is another implied threat: online environments can create so-called echo chambers, i.e., people

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only receive and respond to information that does not conflict with their own convictions (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). This might, to give one example, lead to situations in which climate change deniers only receive information that is in line with their worldview. All these trends affect science journalism in a meaningful way. Here are a few examples. 1. If the number of science journalists is reduced but the remaining journalists still have to provide the same amount of news reports on science, then there might be real time pressure on their working routines, leading to a trend towards more single-source journalism, because journalists will not have enough time to contact various sources, and rather will use just one source of information (Brumfield, 2009; Wormer, 2010). In some cases this might be the source that is given in a press release anyway. This trend goes largely against the journalistic norms of objectivity and balance in which usually at least two voices (and sometimes contrasting opinions) are presented in a news story on science (Dunwoody, 2008). Hence, this trend is affecting traditional journalistic norms and values. 2. Time pressure has also led to a trend in which the same source of information, usually a specific and media-savvy scientist, is asked repeatedly about various topics (Ruß-Mohl, 2013) and therefore has an unusually high presence in the media, which is one version of public visibility. This trend poses a question about the concept of scientific expertise that is offered by science journalists to lay people by quoting the best available experts on a given topic. This trend might go hand in hand with a loss of public trust in science (Weingart & Guenther, 2016) and is thus also affecting traditional journalistic norms and values. 3. Increased economic, but also time pressure, in gatekeeping are sometimes described as constraints in the process of selecting stories (Shoemaker & Vos, 2009). Not only does it lead to single-source journalism, but also to so-called churnalism (or sometimes described as copy-and-paste journalism; Autzen, 2014). This is the uncritical use of science PR material as it stands without changing any content (Göpfert, 2006). This uncritical use of PR material goes against many journalistic norms and values, mostly because PR operates very differentially from journalism and has different goals and intentions (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). It is concerning to see that many science journalists have moved into PR positions, because it ultimately means that PR material will become more tailored to a journalists’ needs. In addition, “[if] the science journalists are still the most trusted source of information about news on science, it remains an open question how long that will be the case when their increasing reliance on institutional communication content becomes widely known”

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(Weingart & Guenther, 2016, p. 6). Hence, this trend could also affect public trust in science. Furthermore, as Auzten (2014) points out, churnalism is also the result of the possibility to publish content 24–7 on the Internet, which initially increased the demand for more scientific online content. With Dunwoody (2008), one might argue that because of these new production cycles journalists’ are rather interested into short stories about concrete happenings than long-term, thematic stories. This might also describe a changing working practice of science journalists. The trend towards moving news online has affected journalistic role conceptions as well: “journalists have moved from their dominant historical role as privileged conveyors of scientific findings to an increasing plurality of roles that involve diverse, pluralistic and interactive ways of telling science news” (Fahy & Nisbet, 2011, p. 789). This trend is related to the fact that many science journalists nowadays are freelancers and, as a consequence, have to work for various media with various audiences (Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016). The journalists play different roles depending on the media organisation for which they work. A further trend that has been described in the literature is the increasing journalistic orientation towards (perceived) audience perceptions (Dunwoody, 2008; Göpfert, 2006). For German journalists, Meyen and Riesmeyer (2009) introduce the concept of the “dictatorship of the audience”, which highlights that (perceived) expectations of the audience are the main factor influencing the work of a journalist: news stories become more tailored to what the audience wants to receive (for instance, more sensationalised, emotionalised and personalised news), and this can go against many established news factors of journalism (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). In this context, German science journalists described how much they actually know about their respective target audience (Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016), with some media companies hiring market research organisations to get a detailed picture of audience characteristics. This trend is seen as the outcome of shrinking audiences, of losing readers, listeners and viewers to (usually free) online sources (Meyen & Riesmeyer, 2009). It can also be seen as a trend going against some journalistic norms and values: the journalist is no longer just dependent on his or her professional perception but actually puts the needs of the audience first. To add an example: even if we look at the journalistic representation of scientific evidence, we find tendencies that science journalists, to a large degree, make their choice of how to represent scientific evidence dependant on the audience perception that they have (Guenther & Ruhrmann, 2016). If journalists think that

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their audience can deal with scientific uncertainty, then the journalists are more likely to represent research findings as uncertain; if the journalists think their audience cannot deal with uncertainty or has no understanding of the concept, the journalists rather seem to represent research findings as scientifically certain (see also Guenther, Froehlich, & Ruhrmann, 2015). 6. In online environments, if media organisations provide news on their websites and in social media networks, new tools to assess the likeability of the audience come into play, e.g., likes on Facebook, comments under articles on online media websites and the number of clicks generated by a single article on a specific website (Brossard, 2013). This also has an effect on science journalism. For example, sometimes headlines are changed if a news story does not reach a desired number of clicks, and therefore attention (Becker, 2006). These new tools to assess the immediate likeability of a story by audiences just add to the important role perceived audience perceptions have for science journalists. What often seems to be forgotten is that clicks and likes are not indicators of reading or a deep processing of a piece of scientific information. Also, not all people are willing to write a comment under a news story. 7. Another related issue comes from outside the journalism context. If we focus on the information that reach lay people on a given day, changing media consumption and free online access to various sources might lead to the loss of the clear separation of opinions and news (Brossard, 2013). This may even lead to a decrease of public trust in science (Weingart & Guenther, 2016). What we know is that science information on the Internet, regardless if it stems from journalists or other communicators, have increased significantly over the years (Brumfield, 2009). However, we do not know how much journalistic, and therefore disinterested (and potentially credible) quantity of news is regularly consumed by an average citizen. Subsequently, the trends that have been summarised so far under novelty in science journalism seem to pose a real threat to professional norms and values of (science) journalism. However, at the same time, these trends could offer new chances for science journalism and single science journalists, when keeping the homeostasis-novelty balance. This will be discussed in the Conclusion.

Conclusion This chapter started by highlighting that mass media have become the most important and sometimes even the only source of science information for

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lay people (Cacciatore et al., 2012; European Commission, 2013). This concept of lay people does not include students, because they are more likely to be exposed to scientific ideas in a formal educational or academic context. Nevertheless, media have an eminent role in public science communication (Burns, O’Connor, & Stocklmayer, 2003; Guenther, 2017), and science journalists are the professional group of people responsible for selecting and depicting scientific issues in the media (Dunwoody, 2008; Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016). Under the term homeostasis, traditional routines, norms and values of professional (science) journalistic work have been summarised by applying gatekeeping theory (Shoemaker, 1991; Shoemaker & Vos, 2009) and research on news values (Badenschier & Wormer, 2012; Staab, 1990), framing (Entman, 1993; Matthes, 2014) and journalistic norms (Dunwoody, 2008). Next, new trends in science journalism have been summarised under the term novelty. Using both the concepts of homeostasis and novelty proved to be a useful framework to bring together traditional and new observations in science journalism. As highlighted earlier, many researchers look at new trends in science journalism with scepticism. Summarising the seven examples that have been highlighted in this chapter it appears that new trends, by means of digitalisation, seem to affect some of the traditional norms and values of science journalism: there is increasing economic and time pressure on journalistic working routines, there are tendencies towards single-source journalism (Wormer, 2010), churnalism (Göpfert, 2006), changing role conceptions (Fahy & Nisbet, 2011) and an increasing orientation towards what audiences prefer (Göpfert, 2006). What we might need to accept is that there is a changing business model for (science) journalism (Bauer & Howard, 2009) and there are local and global challenges. As a consequence, there is a decreasing amount of science journalistic content in traditional media as well as a decreasing number of science journalists working for these media (mostly described for Western countries). This is largely related to increasing digitalisation (Brossard, 2013; Scheufele, 2013). Changing processes, as described here, are not likely to reverse and thus need to be accepted. In addition, these processes might also affect other parts of the world in the future. Several reasons for that have been highlighted in this chapter. But is this really a crisis for science journalism or do these new trends also contain opportunities for better science journalism (online)? Science journalistic roles might be changing over time (Fahy & Nisbet, 2011), and this can go hand in hand with an increased orientation towards what the audience expects to read, view or listen to (Göpfert, 2006) and a shift in news factors, but this does not ultimately mean that journalists lose all traditional norms and values. Such traditional practices have been developed over years, and

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changing contexts and situations have always affected and transformed them to some degree. Hence, these processes might just be a shift of roles, a changing situation that can be explained in an economic sense, through more competitors from (online) markets. It will be surprising to see if science journalists, as was often requested by researchers (see Dunwoody, 2008), will really become more critical in their reporting, or if, on the other side of the spectrum, science journalists will do more towards popularising science. Recent trends in Germany sometimes convey a picture as if science reporting is more about fascinating audiences than covering the facts. But, again Dunwoody argues (2008), that a more interactive relationship between journalists and audiences does not necessarily need to be negatively evaluated. At the end of the day, science journalists work for their audience (Rosen, Guenther, & Froehlich, 2016). If audiences move online, science journalists might as well just follow the audiences, and in this process science journalism might as well adapt to changing situations. Online environments might offer more sources of scientific information (Brumfield, 2009) and the potential of direct communication (Brossard, 2013). Nevertheless, science journalists have the potential to maintain their disinterested and credible role when they, as is the argument in this chapter, accept new trends and adapt to them, but also maintain some of their essential traditional values and norms. What readers, viewers and listeners value in science journalists is that they, who are still perceived as the fourth estate in a democratic society (Weingart & Guenther, 2016), can observe other social systems of the society, such as the scientific system, critically. Also, the move to online sources does not necessarily mean that lay people just turn to any source available. Dunwoody (2008, p. 23) highlights that in the United States of America, lay people tend to use websites of established news media: “There still seems to be an enduring need for a credible, initial filter on information, and historically that filter has been the journalist and [his/]her media organisation.” What will be important then, though, is to make clear to lay people what is opinion and what is news (Brossard, 2013), what is interested and what is disinterested communication/reporting. In addition, an economically more successful way of making consumers pay for quality journalistic content in online environments needs to be established. Nevertheless, if science journalists want to be this disinterested and credible source of information for lay people, they will have to maintain some of their essential norms and values which ultimately actually define them. While it might be understandable that economic and time pressures lead to single-source journalism and the frequent appearance of some scientists (in various contexts), and also that roles, news factors and the importance of perceived audience expectations change, tendencies of churnalism might be less

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acceptable for audiences (Göpfert, 2006). Can readers, viewers and listeners, in the long run, really accept that science reporting in the media is turning into copy-and-paste journalism, which stems from professional PR offices (with PR people that often have a journalistic background anyway) and that frequently has no critical tone towards the scientific study or its findings itself? It is actually the science journalists, who, besides covering science, have the larger job for the society, namely asking critical questions about research and financing, as well as providing the broader societal background (Autzen, 2014). And that is why journalism and PR cannot and will never be seen as the same. It should be clearly pointed out what is journalism and what is PR, otherwise lay people might end up confusing the two. And that is exactly the reason why churnalism cannot be seen as an acceptable or credible form of journalism. Consequently, although local and global challenges for science journalism predictably lead to new concepts and changes in professional journalistic routines, it will be important for science journalism to maintain the homeostasisnovelty balance, to keep some essential journalistic norms and values, and to maintain a unique position as disinterested and credible sources of information.

Notes 1 This work is based on research supported by the South African Research Chairs Initiative of the Department of Science and Technology (DST) and National Research Foundation (NRF) of South Africa (Grant Number 93097). Any opinion, finding and conclusion or recommendation expressed in this material is that of the author and the NRF does not accept any liability in this regard. 2 Comparing different European countries (European Commission, 2013), the number was highest in Sweden (77%) and lowest in the Czech Republic (34%). 3 In many countries this is TV (European Commission, 2013), for some population groups this can be the radio (Guenther & Weingart, 2017). 4 In general, journalists can comprise different journalistic roles at the same time, while it is largely believed that they have one role that is more dominant than others. 5 Please note that there are different definitions of what a frame is (see Scheufele, 2013). In addition, a frame does not need to have all four elements at the same time. Matthes (2014), however, says that unless at least two frame elements are given, a media representation cannot be seen as a frame. 6 As an improvement of the tendency of false balance, Dunwoody (2005, p. 90) proposes a weight-of-evidence reporting in which journalists “find out where the bulk of evidence and expert thought lies on the truth continuum and then communicate that to audiences.”

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CHAPTER 7

Making the Unfamiliar Familiar Zoo and Aquarium Educators Leveraging Novelty and Curiosity Joy Kubarek

Abstract Zoo and aquarium educators are well positioned to not only spark curiosity but to leverage that curiosity into substantive lines of inquiry with learners of all ages. The presentation of novel creatures, places, and phenomena creates wonder and awe that subsequently opens up questioning and engaging in further investigation. Many of the animals and environments in the care of zoos and aquariums are representative of ecosystems many people have never and may never have the opportunity to encounter firsthand. Even more so, very few will ever come nose to nose with animals in the way one does at a zoo or aquarium. Zoos and aquariums have also become more sophisticated in how they represent current issues and make the connection to human impact. These experiences challenge people to go beyond their homeostatic thinking of what they understand of the world around them. These are powerful and unique learning opportunities not replicable in a classroom or textbook. This chapter shares examples from both research and practice of how zoo and aquarium educators ignite and utilize curiosity to make otherwise unfamiliar concepts come to life and become relatable to their learners.

Introduction The potential of informal science institutions to support K-12 science education has been applauded by practitioners and researchers alike for decades in the United States. The US National Science Teachers Association (NSTA) presents a position statement on informal learning environments stating these settings “can spark student interest in science and provide opportunities to broaden and deepen students’ engagement; reinforce scientific concepts and practices introduced during the school day; and promote an appreciation for and interest in the pursuit of science in school and in daily life” (2012). The US National Research Council (NRC) states that “the school science program must © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_007

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extend beyond the walls of the classroom to the resources of the community” and supports the notion that informal learning environments “can contribute greatly to the understanding of science and encourage students to further their interests outside of school” (1996, p. 45). The NRC also endorsed the potential of learning in informal science settings to support the latest reform efforts, the Framework for K-12 Science Education (NRC, 2012) and the Next Generation Science Standards (NRC, 2012). These reform documents provide a roadmap to what successful science students should know and do, including using and interpreting scientific explanations, generating and evaluating scientific evidence, understanding the nature and development of scientific knowledge, and participating in scientific practices and discourse (National Academies of Science, 2010; NRC, 2012). An ad hoc committee to the National Association for Research in Science Teaching (NARST) detailed the importance of understanding the myriad of ways informal learning of science may contribute to an individual’s lifelong education. They reference such learning experiences as being “fundamental” in the lives of children (Dierking, Falk, Rennie, Anderson, & Ellenbogen, 2003). The federal government has supported these assertions through publications such as the National Academy’s Learning Science in Informal Environments: People, Places, and Pursuits (NRC, 2009). This foundational report details six strands of science learning supported by informal settings. The strands range from affective measures of generating excitement and interest in science, cognitive measures of conceptual understanding and argumentation based on this knowledge, to procedural measures of engaging in the process of science such as making predictions, experimentation, and basing conclusions on evidence. There is widespread support for learning in informal science settings and this chapter narrows in further on a particular type of setting – zoos and aquariums. Zoos and aquariums are positioned to alter one’s homeostatic world view of the interrelationship of animals through representation and engagement with a variety of animals, habitats, and issues that are novel to most places with high human density. Zoos and aquariums are informal science institutions displaying live specimens – animals and environments – and obligated to provide education to the public and to community groups such as schools. In North America, the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA) requires all accredited institutions to have education as a key component in its mission, to have a written education plan, to have staff with training and experience in the provision of education, and to actively participate in partnerships with community groups including formal school districts (2013). AZA has reported that in the past decade their accredited zoos and aquariums have trained over 400,000 teachers and served more than 12.5 million students (2013).

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The strength of zoos and aquariums are their live animals readily available to spark curiosity and observation, authentic representation of habitats otherwise inaccessible to many learners, addressing real-world issues such as the conservation of animals or climate change, and dedication to scientific research which is becoming more and more visible and integrated in their education efforts. Zoos and aquariums afford both the opportunity to experience new phenomena or familiar phenomena in new ways. For example, touching a blue-tongue skink for the first time ignites affective and cognitive synapses for a learner – what many call awe and wonder. Seeing a sea star move with its tubular extensions across the habitat basin unsettles the notion of sea stars being sedentary objects in the ocean. Visiting a plastic debris display and reading about stories of animals ingesting plastic waste and seeing the effect on wildlife can shock and shifts a person’s thinking about where their trash ends up. Zoos and aquariums provide learners with a safe space to challenge their assumptions and spark ways of thinking that are novel to the participants. Beyond what zoos and aquariums do for learning, how they do it is also novel and pushes experience boundaries. The Philadelphia Zoo’s new 360 concept literally put large cats walking above visitors as they explore zoo grounds. While the notion of seeing large cats such as lions and tigers at a zoo may not be new to a visitor, witnessing them prowl from space to space above you shifts perspectives. Zoos and aquariums are early adopters of new technology such as augmented reality to take the learner experience to a whole other level. Technology opens up new perspectives of animal behavior and habitats. These are all common stories shared by practitioners working in zoos and aquariums. What follows in this chapter are examples of such stories demonstrating the potential of zoos and aquariums to provide novel experiences and shift the homeostatic thinking of visitors. These stories are not exhaustive of all the stories to be shared from the zoo and aquarium community.

Zoo and Aquarium Examples of Novelty and Challenges to Homeostatic Thinking Beyond what practitioners share about zoos and aquariums providing novel experiences and shifting the homeostatic thinking of learners, research supports it too. A study of family groups visiting the Vancouver Aquarium (Briseno-Garzon, 2014) conducted interviews with family members before, immediately after, and three weeks post-visit. The researcher was investigating family motivations and interests for attending the aquarium, as well as potential learning outcomes accomplished as a result of the visit. The family groups

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referred to the aquarium as a “place where novel, interesting and diverse things to look at can be found.” One family group in particular emphasized how the aquarium was different from a visit to a theme park such as Sea World, citing how interactive aquariums provide things to touch and with which to interact. Families considered this a “non-usual activity.” The study found affective outcomes related to experiencing new phenomena such as observing jelly fish. The researcher summarizes the families’ experiences stating “aquariums are unique places with unique learning opportunities, and that such learning opportunities are in part the result of visitors’ bonding with the living creatures that otherwise would be almost impossible to realize, observe, and even touch.” Wagoner and Jensen (2010) took a more focused lens of addressing the novelty and ability to shift homeostatic thinking. They conducted a study of school children visiting the London Zoo and tracked how the children’s representations of animals shifted as a result of their visit. They sought to understand whether students developed new knowledge. The researchers implemented methods to pick up on “the emergence of novel ideas.” The school children participated in programs at the zoo teaching about habitats, a common concept for this age group. The students were asked to draw their understanding of different animals represented in a specific exhibit at the zoo. They made these drawings before and after the program. The researchers also observed the students interacting with the same animals at the zoo. Lastly, students also responded to a questionnaire before and after the program. Analysis of the drawings showed a level of sophistication and context developed as a result of the programs. Student drawings prior to the program were minimal in details and sometimes inaccurately depicted where an animal lived or what and how it ate. Drawings post program not only became more accurate but included details indicative of animal behavior like socialization with other animals or predator avoidance. The students’ knowledge of these animals and their habitats were vague and limited prior to the program. After the program, as the researchers state, the “quantity and quality” of the students’ knowledge significantly improved. The zoo was able to develop new knowledge and shift existing knowledge of the students engaging in the program A palm oil campaign with Melbourne Zoo in Australia also demonstrated the ability to shift people’s homeostatic thinking – and behaviors (Pearson, Lowry, Dorrian, & Litchfield, 2014). The “Don’t Palm Us Off” campaign took traditional interpretation through signage to a new level for the zoo. The campaign took a multi-pronged approach in engaging visitors with and prompting them to take action. While many people know what orangutans are and think of them as peaceful, cute animals, not as many people are aware of the

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issues they face with habitat degradation due to the palm oil industry. The “Don’t Palm Us Off” campaign focused on food labeling for the presence of palm oil to help raise awareness with visitors. However, it went a step further in then providing tools to take action. The exhibit included a video featuring celebrities and families talking about the issue. The video’s theme was “we want the choice,” emphasizing the need for better food labeling to inform consumers about the presence of palm oil. This video was also shown on YouTube, Facebook, other social media outlets, and local television. After going through the exhibit, visitors were given petition cards to help in the call to mandate proper labeling. The zoo website had extensive resources to access including an online petition. The zoo also provided wallet cards about common palm oil products and pseudonyms for palm oil ingredients. The study of this campaign looked at many facets of attitudinal, knowledge, and behavioral changes in visitors. While knowledge and attitudinal measures showed an increase from before being exposed to the campaign to after, it was the shift in behavior that was most interesting. Before the campaign, approximately 69% of visitors said they wanted mandatory labeling of palm oil in products. After exposure to the campaign, this increased to 90%, continuing as much as 6 months later. Likewise, there was an increase from 66% to 87% in stating that this labeling would influence their decision-making when making purchases. There was also an increase in visitors donating to orangutan or palm oil related campaigns throughout this time as well. This campaign also spurred innovative exhibitry at the Zoos Victoria in their “Zoopermarket” where visitors went through a mock market to do a typical shopping outing and the scanner showed them which product had palm oil in it. Such efforts as these challenge not only visitors’ homeostatic ways of thinking but acting as well. The next example of zoos and aquariums demonstrates how they not only aspire to develop novel thinking but to utilize novel strategies to do this. Hood, Watters, Halvertadt, and Hood (2015) conducted an experiment using social media to examine elements of Twitter posts and their subsequent engagement with visitors. The researchers manipulated elements of the tweets as variables in the experiment. The tweets all came from the same Brookfield Zoo (Chicago) Twitter account. The researchers qualified engagement as the number of times someone interacted with a specific tweet, including retweets. The elements, or variables, under study included voice, species popularity, name, and behavior. The study had a control group – tweets from the social media staff regarding events and announcements. In contrast, the experimental tweets came from another zoo account solely dedicated to this content. Over the course of the experiment, there were over 3200 experimental tweets. The tweets were sent

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in either the first person voice of an animal or third person voice of a fictional naturalist at the zoo. Some tweets had photos, some tweets had natural history facts, and others gave a name to the animal. The researchers ran a multiple logistic regression on all six elements and retweets (engagement). They found that the element of imagery had the most significant impact on engagement. The inclusion of natural history facts did not influence engagement positively or negatively. Similarly animal popularity and inclusion of an animal name had no impact on engagement. Tweets in the first person voice, that of the animal, were retweeted more than those from the fictional naturalist. The results of this study not only demonstrated the utility of a novel engagement approach, but it helped identify key features of that engagement to generate visitor interest in an animal. Another example of novel strategies comes from Zoo Atlanta as they tested the application of virtual reality for teaching students about gorilla behavior (Allison & Hodges, 2000). Observing gorillas and seeing representations of the environments during a visit to a zoo is already novel in and of itself. These are not animals or environments people encounter on an everyday basis. However, Zoo Atlanta realized that observing gorillas at the zoo was not enough on its own to truly understand gorilla behavior and its interaction with its environment. Most visitors spend a fraction of their visit staying at any one given exhibit and as such they are likely to miss a range of behaviors in an animal that may be demonstrated earlier or later in the day or less frequently or so forth. Some behaviors may only be seen behind the scenes of the exhibits, such as when medical exams are conducted or new gorillas are introduced to the exhibit. To include these exposures to gorilla life, the zoo developed a Virtual Reality Gorilla Exhibit to engage students with gorilla behaviors. The virtual reality allowed students to take on the role of the gorilla, stepping into their environments through their eyes. Through the virtual reality role as a gorilla, students could react to different stimuli in the environment and simulate different times of day, hear gorilla vocalizations, and more. The zoo even experimented with students first observing gorillas on exhibit and then developing computer models to mimic gorilla behavior through the virtual reality platform. While no formal research was conducted on the application, this case demonstrates many facets of how zoos provide novel learning, using novel strategies, and encourage shifting perspectives about a phenomenon. Virtual reality is still gaining traction in both the education and social sectors. The zoo was an early adopter of testing it to enhance learning. Putting students in the world of a gorilla through firsthand experiences via virtual reality not only sparks curiosity in the students but challenges their previous notions of what the life of a gorilla is truly like.

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Summary These examples only skim the surface of what zoos and aquariums do to provide novel experiences, spark curiosity, and challenge homeostatic thinking. There are countless examples of zoos and aquariums innovating to challenge assumptions and make connections with the abstract or unknown. The examples in this chapter demonstrate what novelty, curiosity, and shifting homeostatic thinking looks like in practice. These examples span multiple audiences, from families, as highlighted in Briseno-Garzon’s (2014) study, where family groups prioritized a visit to a zoo or aquarium because it was novel, to school groups, such as in the Wagoner and Jensen (2010) study demonstrating how a zoo program shifted student thinking about animals and habitats. Regardless of age or context, the opportunity for novelty and shifting perspectives is ever present with zoos and aquariums. Likewise, the strategies zoos and aquariums use to accomplish these are equally novel. Brookfield Zoo’s example of engaging visitors beyond the zoo experience with social media tweets from the perspective of animals and Zoo Atlanta testing out augmented reality to put students in the role of a gorilla challenge how people traditionally think about and engage with animals and their environments. These strategies move people beyond traditional passive experiences of reading or listening to information about an animal or environment toward active experiences role-playing and using technology to gain greater understanding of animals, issues, and environments.

References Allison, D., & Hodges, L. F. (2000, October). Virtual reality for education? In Proceedings of the ACM Symposium on Virtual Reality Software and Technology, ACM (pp. 160–165). Association of Zoos and Aquariums. (2013). 2013 Accreditation standards and related policies. Retrieved from http://www.aza.org/accreditation/ Briseno-Garzon, A. (2014). Defining informal settings through narrative of personal experience: Aquariums as unique venues for learning. Journal of Zoo and Aquarium Research, 2(4), 101–107. Dierking, L. D., Falk, J. H., Rennie, L., Anderson, D., & Ellenbogen, K. (2003). Policy statement of the “informal science education” ad hoc committee. Journal of Research in Science Teaching, 40(2), 108–111. Hood, C., Watters, J., Halverstadt, B., & Hood, K. (2015, January 5–8). What happens when animals tweet? A case study at Brookfield Zoo. Conference proceedings, Hawaii International Conference on System Sciences, Washington, DC.

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National Academies of Science. (2010). Preparing teachers: Building evidence for sound policy. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. National Research Council. (1996). National science education standards. Washington, DC: The National Academy Press. National Research Council. (2009). Learning science in informal environments: People, places, and pursuits: Committee on learning science in informal environments. In P. Bell, B. Lewenstein, A. W. Shouse, & M. A. Feder (Eds.), Board on science education, center for education: Division of behavioral and social sciences and education. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. National Research Council. (2012). Framework for K-12 science education: Practices, crosscutting concepts, and core ideas. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. National Science Teachers Association. (2012). Position statement on informal science education. Retrieved from: http://www.nsta.org/about/positions/informal.aspx Pearson, E. L., Lowry, R., Dorrian, J., & Litchfield, C. A. (2014). Evaluating the conservation impact of an innovative zoo-based educational campaign: ‘Don’t palm us off’ for orang-utan conservation. Zoo Biology, 33(3), 184–196. Wagoner, B., & Jensen, E. (2010). Science learning at the zoo: Evaluating children’s developing understanding of animals and their habitats. Psychology & Society, 3(1), 65–76.

PART 3 Systemic Change

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CHAPTER 8

Regional Networks and Ecosystem Learning Bart van de Laar

Abstract The chapter addresses homeostasis and novelty on an organizational level. The successful Dutch regional networks (in Dutch: voortgezet onderwijs–hoger onderwijs netwerken) may serve as a best practice in Europe, and are strongly supported by the Ministry of Education and the National Platform Science & Technology (Platform Bèta Techniek). The Northern Netherlands Regional Network (in Dutch: Netwerk Noord), one of eleven Dutch regional networks, covers three provinces and brings together five universities, forty schools and a number of companies, reaching out to over 5000 pupils and 300 teachers with a yearly agenda of formal and informal learning activities with a strong local identity. The Dutch network approach has grown from one of the world’s highest performing educational systems, that of the Netherlands. As the OECD stated, ‘the excellence of the Netherlands is evidenced by its strong average performance and few low performers in the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) the Survey of Adult Skills (PIAAC). A leading principle in the Dutch educational system is how it balances a remarkable degree of freedom at the level of schools alongside strong national accountability mechanisms. And it is this that enables new balances of homeostasis and novelty. The chapter will critically discuss how a regional collaboration developed over the last ten years and describe the overall short term, medium, and long term impacts against a theoretical backdrop provided by OECD and (the former) Noyce foundation key publications.

Introduction This chapter addresses homeostasis and novelty from a practical viewpoint, exploring the idea of regional networks and collaborations of schools, universities and other educational providers to design rich and comprehensive learning environments. Especially for those school systems where the curriculum has to meet rigid national regulations, homeostasis or the business-as-usual scenario, can be rather suffocating. For such schools, the possibility of engaging © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_008

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in extra-curricular and/or out-of-the-classroom learning environments offers much novelty. In this chapter, I argue that local networks may be helpful or even conditional to developing such environments and are also a possibility in responding to changing circumstances in short time frames. The topic is explored mostly at an organizational level, discussing the practical experiences of many schools in Europe, and their networks with local education providers. What reasons lay behind regional networks? What organizations can have an added value? What theoretical framework can tie them together? How can the networks assure the quality of their work and what may learners gain from it? In responding to the questions, I introduce the successful Dutch regional networks (in Dutch: voortgezet onderwijs–hoger onderwijs netwerken also known as vo–ho netwerken) as a good practice for Europe, relate it to the concept of ecosystem learning and place it in a wider international context. Dutch secondary and higher education has proved time and again to be a laboratory for educational renewal. Some innovations were driven by large political ideals, as for example, education as an instrument for social inclusion: the infamous long lasting discussions about the so-called middle school, or middenschool, forty to thirty years ago. Some innovations were introduced as outcomes of educational research (learner centered teaching) while some others were introduced by economic urgency. The campaign to address the low enrollment in Dutch STEM studies – science, technology, engineering and mathematics – is an example of the latter. Declining enrollments in STEM studies are described in many industrialized countries; in the case of the Netherlands the low enrolments were among the lowest (OECD, 2017). What followed was a range of innovations with government support more or less between 2003 and 2015, to make science education more attractive and raise STEM enrollments in higher education and vocational education. Though in secondary vocational education (in Dutch: vmbo and mbo) large STEM related challenges still remain, the national innovations have proven a success in pre-university education and higher education. Between 50 and 60 percent of secondary education pupils choose science tracks in school now, and the enrollments in STEM studies have risen substantially. Some individual degree programmes in university have doubled or even tripled their intake over the last fifteen year. In the recent Strategic agenda education 2015–2025 the Ministry of Education no longer mentions low STEM enrollments as a major concern. But still, as the OECD states, Dutch STEM enrollments are low in international comparison. The STEM innovations ranged from renewal of the science curriculum in primary and secondary education to the introduction of cross-over degree programs in higher education, such as industrial

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engineering and molecular science and technology. This went together with growing media attention for science and engineering emphasizing positive values like the relevance and innovativeness of these disciplines. Over the years, the choice to study itself has been analyzed more deeply by a number of researchers in the Netherlands. Torenbeek, Jansen and Hofman (2011) found that on average, almost a third of the students in OECD countries withdraw from higher education before obtaining a diploma. In that study, the researchers explain first-year success at the university level by focusing on the transition from secondary school to university, considering student characteristics and teaching approaches in secondary and higher education. The researchers do not focus on science students in particular, but their analysis informs us about the process of the choice to study itself and what drives students to successfully start and complete degree programmes in higher education. Korpershoek, Kuyper, van der Werf, and Borsker’s (2011) research, on the other hand, does focus on science students. Their research addresses a group that has not made the likely choice to study science. These students possess a considerable amount of ‘science talent,’ but have not enrolled in advanced math/science courses in secondary education or if they did, have not opted for a science oriented study in higher education. The researchers explain the difference between science students and these ‘science talents’ with respect to ability, personality traits, study behavior and attitudes, also with attention to sex-differences. In other industrialized countries such as the UK, Sweden, Finland, Italy and Germany, similar innovations developed, though not as ambitious as that in the Netherlands. Here, all education sectors were involved. National coordination, funding, local knowledge and good practices were carefully balanced. A striking similarity in a number of countries is the growth of local or regional networks of education providers, which is the very reason to explore these networks in this chapter. Some authors refer to ‘ecosystem learning’ for such networks, while others reject this name as not being scientific; but regardless of the name, these open-schooling or ‘ecosystem’ collaborations have proven relevant. For example, there is the national education policy of the Netherlands and a number of large international innovation projects stretching all over Europe. The concept of a STEM learning ecosystem is described clearly by the former Noyce Foundation – created by the Noyce family to honour the legacy of Dr. Robert N. Noyce, co-founder of Intel. In two reports by Traphagen and Traill (2014) the Foundation explains a learning ecosystem as collaboration that ‘encompasses schools, community settings such as after-school and summer programs, science centers and museums, and informal experiences

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at home in a variety of environments that together constitute a rich array of learning opportunities for young people. A learning ecosystem harnesses the unique contributions of all these different settings in symbiosis to deliver STEM learning for all children. Designed pathways enable young people to become engaged, knowledgeable, and skilled in the STEM disciplines as they progress through childhood into adolescence and early adulthood. In practical terms, this chapter discusses why and how a regional collaboration may develop and prosper against the homeostatic pull of traditional approaches. It describes short, medium, and long term impacts against a more theoretical backdrop to help schools and other education providers further regional networks and inspire education researchers to analyze and support this relevant novelty.

Sense of Urgency Europe faces systemic challenges in many areas. Political instability and social exclusion loom while at the same time the European Environment Agency1 warns that recent analysis shows the strong interdependence between the resource use systems that meet Europe’s need for food, water, energy and materials. Looking ahead, climate change impacts are projected to intensify, and the underlying drivers of biodiversity loss are expected to persist. Utilizing resource-efficiency within a low-carbon economy, the call for action remains very strong, although some short-term trends are more encouraging. And another major concern, health, especially that of an ageing population as well as possible unexpected effects of climate change, definitely need to be addressed knowledgeably. As Jasanoff (2003) argues, it is our challenge to educate young people so that they may live democratically with the knowledge that our societies are inevitably ‘at risk.’ To grasp what this ‘risk’ means and what essential, though limited, contributions of science and technology there are, we are highly dependent on thorough scientific education for the young and a public understanding of science for a wider audience. Our future depends on how we handle very complex and life threatening challenges such as climate change, renewable energies, or biodiversity. Our contemporary societies, our health and well-being all require truth and fact and logic to be the basis of our collective decisions and actions. We find that even countries with a strong academic culture such as the United Kingdom, report a clear deficit among the general public concerning their attitude to science. A public attitudes to science survey in the UK reported

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45% of respondents over 16 feeling aware of science in general and 51% stating they received too little information. A study led by the Wellcome Trust found that public engagement is more firmly embedded in the context of the arts, humanities and social sciences than it is in STEM (TNS BMRB & PSI, 2015). Education is at the root of societal development – social or technological – and science education especially is essential in a knowledge society. Therefore, this chapter aims to provide an example of novel, successful science education collaborations between schools and other education providers to foster the drive, ability and creativity we need to shape our future. And this future asks us to pursue a high level of scientific literacy for students as well as what many refer to as 21st Century Skills (such as critical thinking, problem solving, digital and communicative skills). The uniqueness of the regional networks is that they may shape learning for pupils and their families and caregivers taking local circumstances into account. This is definitely a novelty compared to possibly important, but nonetheless slow and more distant national reform within the homeostasis of the regular curriculum. This scientific literacy of course may vary according to national and regional contexts. It’s this sense of urgency that calls for the exploration of new ways of teaching and learning, in the classroom, and outof-the-classroom. The out-of-the-classroom settings invite many more institutions than our traditional schools and universities to contribute to education, raising all sorts of questions about organization, objectives, learning methods and merits.

Policy framework An outspoken international context for these developments is also found in a number of European policy plans. A defining policy framework for science communication and education is set by the massive EU Framework Programmes for Research and Technological Development, such as FP7 (2007–2013) and Horizon 2020 (2014–2020). The H2020 specific programme Science with and for Society chapter aims to: (a) build effective cooperation between science and society; (b) recruit new talent for science; and, (c) pair scientific excellence with social awareness and responsibility. Open schooling or ecosystem learning addresses these three aims effectively, as follows: – Regional networks build, sustain and disseminate collaborations in STEM learning ecosystems: regional networks that bring schools, universities, science centres, cities and industry together to foster science learning for European citizens.

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– New talent for science is won by engaging learners in cutting-edge research with immediate relevance for global and local Sustainable Development Goals (such as food, health, water, energy), presented in regional learning environments with ample presence of scientific female and male role models. – Scientific excellence is implicitly and explicitly paired with major social challenges identified by the local communities that shape the networks, and so it gives practical meaning to Responsible Research and Innovation. By involving industry and innovative SME’s in the STEM ecosystems, learners are introduced to innovative practices that will spark future career choices. Building on these principles, the regional networks relate to four out of six recommendations in the leading EU-report Science education for Responsible Citizenship (EC, 2015): a Science education should be an essential component of a learning continuum for all, from pre-school to active engaged citizenship; b the quality of teaching, from induction through pre-service preparation and in-service professional development, should be enhanced to improve the depth and quality of learning outcomes; c collaboration between formal, non-formal and informal educational providers, enterprise and civil society should be enhanced to ensure relevant and meaningful engagement of all societal actors with science and increase uptake of science studies and science-based careers to improve employability and competitiveness; d emphasis should be placed on connecting innovation and science education strategies, at local, regional, national, European and global levels, taking into account societal needs and worldwide developments. These recommendations are directly addressed in this chapter as: – Regional networks may foster learning continuums through cross-sector collaboration of regional stakeholders in sustainable networks with an emphasis on young people, primary and secondary pupils, exploring a fundamental change in education. – Regional collaborations support the quality of teaching by building much richer learning environments that bring together the best of formal, nonformal and informal learning and challenge, equip and support teachers, and staff in informal and non-formal education to integrate these. – Innovative network governance beyond traditional leadership is recognized as key in open science education; insights from complex systems and network theory are applied to cultivate their growth to excellence. – Bottom-up renewal strategies that meet regional challenges go hand-inhand with national educational policies to support such initiatives. For example via local workshops to draw up regional cross-sector science

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education policy agendas as frameworks for regional science education calendars. In the following sections I’ll introduce the bottom-up development of regional networks, drawing on one of the world’s highest performing educational systems, that of the Netherlands.

Dutch Education and the Development of Regional Networks NUFFIC, the Dutch organisation for internationalisation in education, describes the Dutch system as follows. It consists of eight years of primary education, four, five or six years of secondary education (depending on the type of school) and two to six years of higher education (depending on the type of education and the specialisation). Both public and private institutions exist at all levels of the education system; the private institutions are in most cases based on religious or ideological principles. In higher education a distinction is made between research-oriented education (wetenschappelijk onderwijs) and higher professional education (hoger beroepsonderwijs). This difference in orientation has continued to exist even after the introduction of the bachelor’s-master’s degree structure in 2002. The Ministry of Education is responsible to a large extent for the financing of the education system, defines the general education policy and specifies the admission requirements, structure and objectives of the education system on general lines. At all levels (primary, secondary and higher education), there is a general trend towards fewer rules and regulations, so that institutions can break away from the general lines, away from homeostasis – so to speak, and take responsibility themselves for the implementation of government policy or even go beyond that, as described in this chapter. A leading principle is that the education system in the Netherlands balances a remarkable degree of freedom at the level of schools alongside strong national accountability mechanisms. This freedom also plays a large role in the development of local networks as it leaves schools and other stakeholders wiggle room to develop networks that reflect regional characteristics. To shape open schooling collaborations where stakeholders from education and research, industry, local authorities and civil society find each other in a wide variety of contexts, the former one-size-fits-all (homeostatic) approach would fall short. Regional SE-HE Networks In 2003 the Dutch government launched an ambitious innovation programme to stimulate STEM studies. Backed up by the national Science and Technology

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Delta Plan specific programmes were developed in all education sectors. The annual innovation budget climbed up to over 60 Million euro nationally in 2010. A growing number of universities and universities of applied sciences set up regional science networks, together with secondary schools. Special attention was given to high-quality education, career prospects and a good throughput. The ministry of Education strengthened and supported these networks with programs such as Universum (2004–2010), Sprint (2004–2010) and Sprint-UP (2007–2012). Together with the introduction of new multidisciplinary subjects (natuur, leven en technologie) in secondary schools, bottom-up regional support centres for pupils and teachers were established. In other science subjects similar structures were initiated or strengthened, most often under the name of regional school networks (regionale vo-ho netwerken). A unique feature of all these networks, using the already mentioned freedom in the educational system, is that they were developed bottom-up, without any shared blueprint. This is where the theme of this book comes in; this is where homeostasis and novelty are balanced at a regional or local level. The Dutch regional networks have grown from the priorities of the local stakeholders. A necessary precondition was that stakeholders shared the above sense of urgency, and connected with each other with the aim to strengthen STEM studies. And the Ministry supplied reasonable innovation funding with a rather open character. As a result of the networks, secondary and higher education worked together with increased intensity, shaping a chain approach in education. The Dutch networks consist of a varying number of secondary education teachers, teacher educators, researchers and businesses to support and supervise the professional development of teachers. They also introduce subject innovations and the exchange between teachers in secondary and higher education. The networks develop activities with three dominant characteristics: a Continuous learning between secondary and higher education (and the business world) and orientation towards studies and career. Examples include masterclasses, science labs, web classes or junior/pre-university lectures for pupils. The subject content furthers the orientation towards studies and career. b Subjects and curriculum innovations in secondary education. Exchanges and teaching material development by teachers take place in teacher development teams and professional learning communities. School teachers, (science) teacher educators, teacher training schools and the business community come together in these. c Professional development of teachers, technical education assistants, school management and academic staff. Examples include

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subject-related and didactic courses for teachers relating to subject innovations, or meetings for school heads and team leaders on themes such as interdisciplinary education, 21st-century skills, and the role of technology tools. There are now ten regional networks in the Netherlands. Together, the networks provide almost full national coverage, and they enjoy broad support. Twentytwo universities of applied sciences, twelve universities and 350 schools (some 60% of all pre-university institutions) are contributing. The government also shares in the costs. Each year, the activities reach more than 27,000 pupils and 3800 teachers. Nationally, the ten networks are also part of an overarching consultation body. This national council (Steunpuntenraad) is therefore a network of networks. The Steunpuntenraad has developed over the years into a platform for the exchange of cross-regional collaborations, the exchange of good practices, and peer learning. Peer learning as a way of quality assessment has been adopted by the ministry as a demand for the future funding of individual learning networks. The national council meets a limLocal collaborations #1: Weizmann ited number of times a year; each Institute of Science, Israel network sends a delegate. The chairmanship rotates among the To develop their awareness about member networks, and the counrenewable energy sources, students cil is supported by the national visit the Weizmann Institute’s outbody for curriculum developdoor science park, the Garden of ment, the Stichting Leerplan Science, to learn about alternative Ontwikkeling (SLO). energy and participate in an experiment on dye-sensitized solar cells. Funding Then in school they discuss a quesGiven the wide support for the tion that is relevant to their real networks and the importance of life: “would they agree to replace regional chain cooperation, the the windows in their school by Ministry of Education, Culture and Science developed specific photovoltaic cells?” Based on the programmes between 2012 and knowledge they gained in the visit, 2017 to support networks finanthey further explore this question cially to further strengthen the and create exhibits to address this established chain approach, question. These exhibitions are preand make them sustainable. The sented at their schools to their felgoal was for networks to strive low students. Selected exhibits are for independence, supported by presented in Garden of Science. local stakeholders only.

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Funding for the networks involves three investing parties. Two of these are higher and secondary education. In the case of the schools, there is usually a contract with fixed membership contributions. The level of this contribution varies per network, per region. The third investing partner is the national government. At the time of writing, assessments are being made as to how development can take place from a more sustainable (organisationally and financially) perspective from 2018 forward. In the next sections I’ll introduce a methodology and a framework to describe and develop open schooling or ‘ecosystem’ collaborations and describe how these provide a sense of novelty.

Concept and Methodology, Coordination and Support Schools, science centers, universities, local communities, companies, libraries and fab labs just to mention some providers, already offer a rich variety of in and out-of-school science education opportunities. The above school networks offer a foundation for further and much richer networks. But despite social and economic needs, many rich bottom-up initiatives still are fragmented and unstructured. This fragmentation stands in the way of incremental quality improvement. Science education stakeholders together can be seen as an ecosystem where diverse relationships tie many species together in strong interdependence. But where an ecosystem resists change and remains at a homeostatic equilibrium, our cities and regions require more effort in science education to improve effectiveness and meet local and global sustainability goals, as they grow to excellence. This calls for a methodology that invites regional stakeholders to define common goals and foster ‘open-schooling’ or ecosystem learning that brings formal, informal and non-formal education together, tailored to students, families and the general public. We define formal, informal and non-formal education, following a fair degree of consensus in the literature, as: – Formal learning is always organized and structured, and has learning objectives. A typical example is learning that takes place in primary and secondary schools. – Informal learning is never organized, has no set objective in terms of learning outcomes and is never intentional from the learner’s standpoint. Often it is referred to as learning by experience or just as experience. An example is the learning environment one is exposed to by individual free-choice visits to a science center.

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– Mid-way between the first two, non-formal learning is the concept about which the least consensus exists. Most authors describe it as rather organized and possibly having learning objectives. Examples are visits, projects or courses a learner engages in at community centers or fab labs. To steer STEM collaborations to excellence one could embrace a range of proofs of concept. In its essence a methodology was already present in large scale European projects, where cross-sector communities of learners (Communities of Learners: teachers, science center educators and industry) developed rich science teaching materials with strong societal relevance accompanied by teacher training programs. The stem Ecosystems Report outlines how the above approach can be replicated from individuals who work together in a community of learners, to organizations that collaborate in STEM ecosystems. As such, it ‘builds capacity’ for the region. I endorse the logic model of Traill and Traphagen (2015): – establish and sustain cross-sector partnerships to cultivate ecosystems, – create and connect STEM-rich Local collaborations #2: University learning environments in rich of Groningen, The Netherlands settings, – equip educators to lead active A yearly training for STEM teachers learning in diverse settings, and to develop sustainable cooperation – support youth to access pathways and exploration to further between schools and industry in the learning and careers. North of the Netherlands: as part of This approach benefits science the training, school teachers visit education stakeholders: pupils and companies in the region and meet the general public who take part in the professionals who work there. activities. It has the potential to supTeachers gain knowledge about port these stakeholders in shaping the newest technology and innovacommunity well-being. The novelty tions, and learn how to use this in here is in the network structure that their lessons. As a result, teachers offers more room for individuals or can provide their students with uporganizations to engage in science to-date knowledge and challenging subjects, academic or professional education. In this way students can skills or societal interests than the cultivate an interest in the natustructured learning environment ral sciences and its applications in in a school can. For the learner, the school. And the students get a betvariety of learning styles or preferter picture about the jobs in indusences that can be accommodated is tries, and the skills required. much wider.

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The three recent examples of collaborations highlighted in the text boxes, give examples of the variety of local collaborations. A Step-by-Step Methodology: From Regions to Countries and Beyond Building on the model proposed by Traill and Traphagan (2015) and combining it with the experiences in the Dutch networks, I suggest the following approach to further regional learning networks: – bring together regional stakeholders – among them schools and companies, to establish regional networks as touchstone collaborations of schools, universities, cities, science centers and industry in regions; – have regional networks each articulate a regional science agenda and set a science education calendar, culminating in tracks integrating formal, informal and non-formal learning to meet specific regional demands and at different educational levels; – provide professional development (guides, workshops and webinars) for teachers in formal, non-formal and informal education to use their regional learning environment to the fullest; – provide a network governance toolkit (whitepapers, workshops and webinars) for present and future network facilitators to support their work to grow to excellence; – assess the impact of the networks beyond the mere economic value: measure the social value created; – establish and supply innovation nodes to encourage and support the formation of new regional networks; – disseminate the STEM networks through existing professional networks, such as NARST, ECSITE or ASTC, to wide international advantage; – propose evidence-based recommendations for effective models of crosssector collaborations of education providers (formal, informal and nonformal) in a variety of cultural contexts. For interested stakeholders it can be difficult to initiate a network; where to begin? There is no theory of learning networks yet, no proven method to follow. The above approach doesn’t require establishing a full-grown network right from the start, it offers a model for organic growth, starting small with only a few interested partners, and only one or two subjects. In the first two steps partners can thoroughly explore who actually makes up their science education region by facilitating a structured regional open dialogue with leading stakeholders. A network preferably is composed of stakeholders from different sectors, as in Figure 8.1. The partners and stakeholders involved represent (local) networks of schools and/or schools and industry, universities, museums and science

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figure 8.1 Possible partners and third parties in a learning network, by sector

centers, or for example Cities of Science.2 Of course the involvement of schools is fundamental, and usually only a local university can provide the resources necessary to coordinate a learning network. The expertise of the network partners together ideally encompasses student and teacher oriented activities, ranging from science festivals, science cafés and participatory events, continuous professional development, Local collaborations #3: University developing blended learning of Lisbon, Portugal materials (e-learning and face-toface) and bringing informal learnThe city of Mafra hosted an exhibiing into the classroom and formal tion “Geoengineering” developed learning to museums and science by students of a local school, intecenters. grated in the World Children’s Day In order to build the network, commemoration. This annual event stakeholders should engage in is developed by the City Hall and mapping their interests and develhas wide media coverage by the oping a shared science education largest local radio (RCM). Students, vision to join forces in annual teachers and university researchregional science calendars. These ers were interviewed to explain the calendars lay out the formal, nonidea of Responsible Research and formal and informal education Innovation. The Lisbon Institute activities provided in the region, of Education also contacted Portui.e. the ecosystem. Different activguese International Broadcasting to ities may be aimed specifically at further dissemination. pupils, teachers and management.

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A key element for the implementation of activities is the formal/informal educators’ support. A professional development programme can be shaped bottom-up through Communities of Learners (CoLs). Communities of Learners have proven to be a powerful means of training educators (Louck-Horsley, Stilles, Mundry, Love, & Hewson, 2010). Within a Community of Learners participants each have a different role: teachers have expertise working in the classroom; science educators have a large theoretical background about education; science centers have experience in informal learning activities; researchers bring in cutting edge science research and professionals from industry know about applications of STEM. Each Community of Learners might include four to five formal/informal educators, along with the researchers and professionals from industry. As indicated by Shulman and Sherin (2004) both experienced and novice educators can participate fruitfully in these communities. Special care has to be taken to allow the teachers to take part in the CoL. Most work in the CoL will be outside of normal teaching hours to accommodate differing schedules of the members. It may be necessary to ask for specific measures in regions to allow teachers to participate. The topics for innovative learning materials follow from a regional science education agenda. Reform recommendations call for introducing learners to cutting edge research in local universities and industry to show what is often referred to as ‘science in the making.’ Cutting-edge scientific and technological matters highlight developing science that is preliminary, uncertain, and under debate. The controversial dimension refers to “differences over the nature and content of the science such as the perception of risk, interpretation of empirical data, and scientific theories, as well as the social impact of science and technology” (Levinson, 2003). Building on these foundations regional networks can stretch their reach and offer educational services at different levels and advance networks in other regions. A network may involve science centers and museums credibility in their regional or national community to develop an innovation program to support new generations of network facilitators. In this way, new networks can expand over a country. When more than one network exists in a country another opportunity comes up; it lays the groundwork for a form of quality assurance. A network of networks is more sustainable than single ones. The Dutch example shows how project partners benefit very much from organized peer learning – learning from experiences of other networks – and align their local networks, copy grassroots practices from each other, making the networks more efficient and effective.

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What Might Be the Impact of Learning Networks? Learning networks or ecosystems enable non-formal science education to have impact on the education system. Through local networks the homeostatic tendency of regular formal education systems open up to a variety of other education providers. Table 8.1 specifies earlier work by Traphagen and Traill (2015) and gives an overview of the wider impact for networks, the main barriers or framework conditions that determine the expected impact are listed in the following table. Table 8.1 sums up the potential far-reaching potential of local networks. These are only possible by building on existing best practices, monitoring and carefully adjusting progress to local circumstances, and through a step-by-step approach: first it identifies regional stakeholders and good practices, then it develops a regional policy agenda – taking into account relevant regional and national regulations and policies, and only then sets a regional science education agenda with learning activities. This regional approach is the key to success. Cooperation with secondary schools and vocational institutes for example, is largely determined by proximity. Intense relationships are mostly found within the same geographical region. table 8.1  Impact of a regional network, overall, and short term to long term

Expected impact

The network approach fosters this by

Overall The creation of new partnerships in local communities to foster improved science education for all citizens.

The collaborations will lead to cycles of recurring activities that can be embedded in the governmental structures in that region.

Short term

Local working plans, objectives and collaboration agreement(s) Evidence of initial fijinancial and human capital support Secure stable fijinancial/human capital support for infrastructure and evaluation of the partnership

The development of new partnerships between schools, local communities and local industry should contribute to a more scientifijically interested and literate society and students with a better awareness of and interest in scientifijic careers.

(cont.)

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table 8.1  Impact of a regional network, overall, and short term to long term (cont.)

Expected impact

The network approach fosters this by

Medium Activities should provide citizens term and future researchers with the tools and skills to make informed decisions and choices.

Following from the regional science education agenda, resources and policies supporting cross-sector work are institutionalized Better resources and spaces to facilitate scientifijic inquiry, engineering design, collaboration, and problem-solving Articulated pathways guide pupils to higher education in STEM careers and engage a wider audience in STEM subjects Increased parent/family involvement and support of their child(ren)’s pursuit of STEM learning

Long term

Measurable population level improvement in STEM learning and engagement outcomes for young people Increased understanding by youth and parents/caregivers of the requirements and pathways to pursue STEM careers Increased self-identifijication of youth as scientists Increased parent/caregivers and educator support for youth in pursuing STEM interests in diffferent settings Increased number of students persisting along articulated pathways and succeeding in post/secondary education and careers Increased understanding among youth and families of the importance of STEM skills and literacy for Europe’s grand challenges, even for those not choosing a STEM career

Increasing the numbers of scientists and researchers in Europe.

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Short-term framework: New local networks are best started with limited numbers (a dozen, with the intention to expand) of highly motivated schools and other education providers. The innovation projects mentioned earlier illustrate that it is not necessary or even desirable, to try to involve all possible regional actors. It’s best to build collaborations that prove their added value year after year, exploring promising initiatives, expanding good practices, keeping close contact with education institutes, and education providers (teachers and communities of learners). This can be set out by local working plans that describe how to progress and develop a regional science education agenda to secure stable financial/human support for the partnership. Medium-term framework: New collaborations risk having a volatile character as there is no shared history yet. As a result, regional actors don’t fully embrace ownership. But European and American experiences show how an ambitious setting feeds a dynamic of new partnerships to the advantage of local stakeholders. The leading power of universities and city councils is not to be underestimated here. As robust organizations rooted in their region they can ‘make or break the game’ of new collaborations. Long-term framework: The evidence for success of the Dutch networks has been shown, (among other things) to increase in the number of pupils opting for science subjects in pre-university education and the enrollments in STEM programmes. The infrastructure of the regional networks in the Netherlands was also used for updating individual science and technology subjects; it encouraged the top talent in motivated STEM pupils; it introduced new science and technology examination programs. The long-term impact, or the outcomes of the networks, will always be a complex and dynamic combination of the multiple initiatives in and outside the project, beyond the first vision. With this impact the regional networks show themselves as a “tool” with strategic impact and cost effectiveness: a novelty in itself among the usual high costs of change.

Governance of Networks In the last section I discuss a few ideas related to implementation and governance of network programmes to encourage network learning and capacity building for quality science education improvement. In doing so, I emphasize specific crucial concepts: cooperative culture, diversity, openness, autonomy, and meta-networks.

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To create spaces of dialogue for learning networks where different stakeholders find each other a one-size-fits-all approach would fall short. Rigid governance would frustrate these diverse and complex systems. The network approach builds a shared vision and goals in the regional networks, fostering open exchange and co-creation. It provides continuous monitoring and peer learning, strongly supporting actors to reorient and align their activities for a regional science education calendar. The leadership required to build regional ecosystems with innovative governance therefore has to embody the spirit of innovation and 21st century key understandings such as agility and network learning. Social systems theory lists three principles as essential for stable and alive complex systems: diversity, openness and autonomy. Contrary to projects where only strictly defined roles ensure efficient implementation, the strength of networks or ecosystems lies in redundancy and its dynamic nature, allowing creative, flexible and adaptive processes. Network facilitators have to see to it that differences between partners are appreciated so that a dynamic between network stakeholders can develop. This is why existing and new networks should carefully balance clear accountability at the level of the network with room for cities or regions to define local science education objectives and have schools and other education providers act upon it. A network only builds a cooperative structure by understanding different interests of the partners and making them a principle of the work. The goal is a collaboration where all partners contribute according to their individual strengths and abilities, while at the same time receiving incentives for their own activities. This asks for a culture of openness and mutual trust, where differences become useful for co-operation and are transformed into synergies. Through guided self-organization individual stakeholders are supported to find added value in the network. A network pursues well defined collective goals, but also fosters room for a collection of individual goals for stakeholders or groups of stakeholders. The coordinator has a task in understanding individual differences, monitoring developments in and outside of the network and providing impulses for new initiatives. For example, by supporting stakeholders as they connect and engage in evaluation and peer learning, they can appreciate the expertise of each in ways that can include organizational or financial support. As the infrastructure of the regional networks is very suitable for connecting with other programs and themes, networks can grow to regional meta-networks. In other words, ecosystems in the region are structured so that relevant partners repeatedly encounter one another, and they can achieve things rapidly on the basis of existing relationships.

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Regional Networks and Ecosystem Learning – The Novelty? For more than ten years many regional networks proved themselves trustworthy frameworks for regional cooperation between secondary and higher education and other providers. In the Dutch case three characteristics were always there: (1) continuous learning of pupils and students between secondary and higher education and other partners, (2) subject and curriculum innovations in school, and (3) the professional development of teachers and school management. The effect of this chain approach has been shown, among other things, by the increase in the number of pupils opting for science subjects in pre-university education and higher enrollments in STEM programmes. The Dutch learning networks proved themselves an example to follow, together with many other examples all over Europe. When considering the young, schools are the foundation of a learning network. They have to own their agenda in the dialogue with universities and others to develop education for their pupils. In this, they are embedded in a social assignment – the needs of the region and its labour market. Each region, and school and teacher has different needs, after all. The role that these networks can have in training teachers is unequaled, ranging from support for beginning teachers or novices to peer-to-peer learning for experts, and in-depth research activities at universities or companies. Here lies the novelty of ecosystem learning: – Students learn to appreciate the added value of STEM studies for society, through ‘show – don’t tell’. – Students learn to appreciate expertise and skills of stakeholders in different domains, preluding future professional settings. – Teachers learn skills and build networks to engage in a variety of learning activities beyond the classroom and as a result improve the quality of teachers and the attraction of the teaching profession; teacher training could come to reflect this. – Partners learn to develop attitudes and skills for cross-border work, from education to libraries, companies and museums; reflexively new roles for libraries, companies, museums and other stakeholders require schools and universities to respond accordingly (capacity building). – Partners find that networks are a springboard for future renewal. New initiatives may easily be fitted into an existing network to test and develop them and have them find their way to students, teachers and schools if they successfully fit needs. Some networks, set up for science education, are now also inspiring arts, humanities and social studies subjects: general academic orientation, languages and

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business subjects. They are moving from STEM to STEAM, and connecting science, technology, engineering, arts and mathematics. The cooperative models developed in science and technology are gradually being expanded to other fields, an expansion where experience is now growing in all networks. Other opportunities lie in the cooperation with/expansion into primary education and vocational education, which also bears their own responsibility in this. Learning networks or ecosystem learning brings together a number of rather fuzzy concepts such as informal learning, learning networks, and 21st century skills. Informal learning quickly has grown in importance over the last dozens of years, driven by a growing number of science museums and science centers with increasing visitor numbers. Though fully endorsed by the museum sector, for most educators in schools and universities informal learning is too fluid to trust for the key learning outcomes that have fueled the tendency to remain the same – the homeostatic tendency. Do learners acquire essential knowledge or skills? Can that be assessed? Do academic or professional attitudes develop, and if so is it sustained beyond incidental activities? And, as for the network learning systems themselves, even though there are a number of examples all over Europe, they are often specific for a region and possibly difficult to transfer. Are there common theoretical frameworks, key concepts and theory that can be used to understand and build sustainable collaborations for future learning? The developing learning networks in a great many countries would be helped by systematic study and analyses of the existing practices. The challenge of the systemic novelty of learning networks is the break from the comfort of the familiar and often well-established homeostatic structures.

Notes 1 Ministry of Economic Affairs and PBT (2016). Monitor – Fact and Figures Bètatechniek. Retrieved from https://www.pbt-netwerk.nl/media/files/ publicaties/Techniekpactmonitor%202016.pdf 2 https://www.euroscience.org/news/next-european-city-science-host-euroscienceopen-forum-2020/

References European Commission. (2015). Science education for responsible citizenship. Retrieved from http://ec.europa.eu/research/swafs/pdf/pub_science_education/ KI-NA-26-893-EN-N.pdf

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Jasanoff, S. (2003). Technologies of humility: Citizen participation in governing science. Minerva, 41, 223–244. Korpershoek, H., Kuyper, H., van der Werf, G., & Bosker, R. (2011). Who succeeds in advanced mathematics and science courses? British Educational Research Journal, 37(3), 357–380. Levinson, R. (2003). Towards a theoretical framework for teaching controversial socioscientific issues. International Journal of Science Education, 28(10), 1201–1224. Loucks-Horsley, S., Stiles, K. E., Mundry, S., Love, N., & Hewson, P. W. (2010). Strategies for professional learning designing professional development for teachers of science and mathematics (3rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press. OECD. (2017). Education at a glance 2017: OECD indicators. Paris: OECD Publishing. Retrieved from http://dx.doi.org/10.1787/eag-2017-en Prokop, A., & Illingworth, S. (2016). Not communicating science? Aiming for national impact. F1000Research, 5, 1540. Shulman, L. S., & Sherin, M. G. (2004). Fostering communities of teachers as learners: Disciplinary perspectives. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 33(2), 135–140. TNS BMRB & PSI (2015). Factors affecting public engagement by researchers. UK: Wellcome Trust. Torenbeek, M., Jansen, E. P. W. A., & Hofman, W. H. A. (2011). How is the approach to teaching at secondary school related to first-year university achievement? School Effectiveness and School Improvement, 22(4), 351–370. Traphagen, K., & Traill, S. (2014). How cross-sector collaborations are advancing STEM learning. Retrieved from http://www.noycefdn.org/documents/STEM_ECOSYSTEMS_REPORT_140128.pdf

PART 4 Formal Education

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Chapter 9

Teacher Preparation Embraces Homeostasis and Novelty Expanding Teacher Candidates’ Learning Ecologies through a Short-Term Study Abroad Lara Smetana

Abstract Introducing an ecological approach to how teachers are prepared with a new vision of science education unconfined to classrooms, this descriptive chapter introduces a university science teacher education program which recognizes that coherent, complex and meaningful science learning is not confined to classrooms – be they university or K-12 classrooms. There is increasing interest within the science research community in ecological and systems perspectives on science teaching and learning (Center for the Advancement of Informal Science [CAISE], 2010, NRC, 2009, 2015). In our program, candidates’ preparation involves specific, purposefully coordinated, engaged-learning experiences that take place across, linked to, and drawn from varied science learning contexts, or what we refer to as a Science Teacher Learning Ecosystem (Smetana, Birmingham, Rouleau, Carlson, & Phillips, 2017). We have been intentional about the ways in which varied contexts matter, not only for youth but also for the teacher candidates who are preparing to work with them. The contexts each bring a different homeostatic identity. The intent is that candidates will be better able to facilitate these sorts of connected learning experiences (Bevan, 2016) for their students if they have had similar sorts of opportunities as well as the space to reflect upon them. This chapter reports on a study abroad experience in Panamá City, Panamá that, as part of an elementary science methods course, is designed to develop elementary teacher candidates’ interest and foster enthusiasm for not only science but for the kind of connected science teaching and learning that develops and deepens across time and spaces. The chapter begins with an overview of the conceptual framework for the program and this specific methods course. Then, this framework is used to describe the specific experiences of the study abroad trip, which include time in K-5 classrooms and afterschool activities, a visit to the Panamá Canal locks, an urban rainforest and the colonial city center. Data are derived from course assignments © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_009

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and discussions to provide insight into the ways in which candidates conceptualized learning and doing science across the various times, contexts and experiences. Finally, implications are drawn for other science educators and science education researchers.

Introduction Educators have increasingly embraced the paradigm of systems thinking which assumes an essential interdependence and interconnectedness of phenomena and their environment (Capra, 1996; von Bertalanffy, 1972). This perspective was originally pioneered by biologists and ecologists in the first half of the 20th century who recognized that living things and systems are composed of networks and thus are best understood as an integrated whole rather than as a collection of individual parts (von Bertalanffy, 1972). To understand an organism is to recognize the network of relationships and processes taking place within its networks of cells, organs, and organ systems, each of which also consists of networks of molecules. A focus on the whole and the relationships contributing to that whole represents a shift from reductionist thinking that has historically dominated the conceptual paradigm since the time of Descartes and Galileo. As Ackoff (1993) describes in one famous lecture, Science was a crusade in search of the element, because we believed that understanding the universe would only be possible when we had understanding of the elements of which it was composed, and therefore we first had to identify them and understand them. (p. 4) Systems cannot be understood simply as a sum of component parts. Nonlinear mathematics and increasingly sophisticated computer technologies have been instrumental in moving the thinking of natural and social scientists forward by affording more nuanced exploration of systems that did not abide by linear, cause and effect relationships. While the norm was to “model phenomena as if they were linear in order to make them tractable, and…model aggregate behavior as if it is produced by individual entities which all exhibit average behavior” (Anderson et al., 1999, p. 233), it was now possible to explore nonlinear, multidirectional patterns of organization in complex, far from equilibrium systems. Doing so made it possible to uncover the very regular patterns beneath seemingly chaotic behavior (Institute of Medicine, 2012). Organization and social scientists have recently considered the applicability of systems thinking and complexity theories for human systems (see Anderson, 1999; Capra, 2005;

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Walby, 2012 for examples). Here, the focus is on the dynamic, interconnected relationships and feedback loops among actors in open social systems, and shifts in those networks over time.

Homeostasis and Novelty within Teacher Preparation Homeostasis describes the characteristic of open systems to maintain internal stability and overall structure and function despite various environmental changes and disturbances. If the goal is to maintain a steady state, then changes to the internal balance are perceived as oppositional. Adaptations are made in order to restore equilibrium to the whole and restore a normal balance. Thinking about our human bodies, we can maintain our body temperatures even as external temperature and other environmental conditions change. Although in biology homeostasis is considered a part of healthy cell and system functioning, in relation to education homeostatic thinking has been critiqued for preventing educational progress. McGrane and Stenberg (1992) argued, Our educational system has developed so that when any attempt at change is made that is not in accordance with the underlying vision, different structures within the system will work to force the reformed program back in line with the traditional vision…It is because our educational system is homeostatic (self-correcting) that incremental changes that are not in line with the current vision inevitably fail. (p. 336) Within teacher preparation, we are still confronted with the challenge of the “apprenticeship of observation” (Lortie, 1975). That is, teacher candidates are inclined to teach the way they were taught, ways that are often in conflict with current reforms-based visions (Thompson, Windschitl & Braaten, 2013). Within science education, our teacher candidates often come with a vision of science as stagnant and distant from other subject areas, the real world and their own lived experiences (Birmingham, Smetana, & Coleman, 2017; Bang & Medin, 2010). As teacher educators we ask, what can resist the natural tendency to return to this known, familiar stable state? The short-term study abroad trip described in this chapter responds to this call for balancing homeostasis and novelty. The 10-day trip to Panamá City, Panamá involved 11 undergraduate elementary teacher candidates in the teaching and learning of science across varied school and non-school contexts. The trip was designed to develop candidates’ interest and foster enthusiasm for not only science but for the kind of science teaching and learning that develops and deepens across time and place, and

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in connection with others (Bevan, 2016). During school day hours, candidates worked closely with teachers and culturally and linguistically diverse youth in grades 1–5 classrooms at a local partner school, gaining valuable international perspectives on elementary education and interdisciplinary instruction. Weekend and afterschool hours were spent at a variety of sites that served as informal learning contexts where candidates furthered their knowledge and understandings of the science and engineering elements of the Next Generation Science Standards (NGSS), which they would be responsible for using in the United States. This combination of school and non-school experiences takes an ecological perspective on learning (Bronfenbrenner, 1977), or that which understands learning to be a dynamic, multifaceted process influenced by varied contexts, cultures, and interactions. From this perspective, learning is not confined to schools, but is influenced by the many spaces and relationships a learner encounters and develops throughout life (National Research Council, 2015). Novelty and intensity have been cited as catalysts for change during study abroad experiences (Shames & Alden, 2005). Study abroad experiences offer novelty in the form of new learning environments as well as different modalities for learning. Ratey (2002) explains how detecting novelty and seeking reward “direct the selection of where to focus our attention. The novelty system takes note of new stimuli. The reward system produces sensations of pleasure…therefore…providing motivation” (pp. 116–117), in this case for learning. In contrast to more typical didactic learning styles often associated with schoolbased learning, a study abroad opportunity more easily affords an experiential learning approach that is sensitive to and can capitalize on the novel learning situation as well as the focus content (Vande Berg, Paige, & Hemming, 2012). In regard to intensity, during a compact learning experience, one is necessarily intently focused on a particular set of goals and is freed from other distractions of daily life. There are of course plenty of new distractions, particularly for candidates in their late teens to early 20s, but those new sights, sounds, and flavors can be considered part of the learning experience. The novelty of study abroad, coupled with the intensity of a program that is short-term, has a singular academic focus, and is demanding in terms of time, energy, and academic rigor (Shames & Alden, 2005) may also have the potential to disrupt a traditional homeostatic vision of education. The following section begins by describing the teacher preparation program and the specific course that the study trip was part of as well as three of the study trip’s interconnected goals. Next, several of the core experiences are described and examples of candidate work are presented. Finally, implica-

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tions are drawn for other educators interested in thinking about study trips and experiential learning from the perspective of learning ecologies, homeostasis, and novelty.

Elementary Science Methods Course Context This chapter describes an elementary science methodology course, part of a four-year undergraduate initial teacher preparation program at a private, midsized university in a major urban metropolis in the United States. While the examples offered in this chapter are unique and specific to our context, they are intended to have relevance for other contexts as well. The program utilizes a field-based apprenticeship framework (Rogoff, 1995) designed around four key cornerstones: 1. Partnerships with schools and communities – teacher preparation is undertaken as a collaborative effort with schools and communities. Courses are embedded within schools and communities and candidates capitalize on these partnerships from the first week of their program, gaining extensive opportunities from the start to work alongside experts in a variety of educational settings. In regard to this chapter, partnerships include those international partners who helped make the study trip experiences possible. 2. Teacher preparation for diverse classrooms – all teacher candidates are prepared to serve all learners, including those from diverse cultural, linguistic, racial, ethnic, social, emotional, behavioral, developmental, academic, and socio-economic backgrounds. 3. Authentic teaching practices – teacher candidates take on increasing responsibility for classroom instructional practice over the course of their program as they develop and hone their teaching, learning, and leadership skills. 4. Participation in professional learning communities (PLCs) – teacher candidates come together on a regular basis with peers and faculty from similar areas of expertise in order to reflect on their course experiences, theory and practice, content and pedagogy, exchange ideas and continue to learn from one another. In our teacher preparation program, candidates pursuing elementary education (grades one through five) and special education (grades one through twelve) certifications typically take the elementary science methods course during the spring of their sophomore year in conjunction with a social studies

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methods course that runs simultaneously. The course instructors work collaboratively, along with the various school and community partners, and candidates complete a final summative assessment at the conclusion of the semester where they think about the relationship of these two disciplinary areas and their learning across both courses. One goal of these two related methods courses is to provide candidates with a vision of how the disciplines and disciplinary practices of science/engineering and social studies/history complement one another, specifically within the context of an elementary classroom. A second goal is to introduce candidates to the notion of connecting in and out of school learning contexts, and working in partnership with other educators from across varied contexts. During the spring of 2017, I designed a new approach to the science methods course, one that offered a study abroad component. While one section of the course was offered following the previously described approach, this section integrated the additional goal of providing candidates with an opportunity to challenge oneself through travel and study outside of the United States. Each of these goals is detailed further below. First, science and social studies methods courses partner well when it comes to elementary teacher preparation. In US primary schools both subjects receive decreasing attention and resources to give priority to math and reading, which are more frequently involved in high-stakes testing (Britton & Schneider, 2007; Judson, 2010). Yet, from a systems perspective, there is risk of a cycle of reinforcement in which teacher candidates perceive their preparation in science and social studies as second to their preparation for math and reading. Our program seeks to combat this by placing emphasis on their importance in the real world around them. In doing so, we seek for candidates to recognize how these two disciplines complement one another – and draw upon the core ideas and practices of match and literacy – as they uniquely generate and shape knowledge that is necessary to understanding our natural and social world. An integrated approach also communicates the realistic understanding that the world is complex and that its past, current and future challenges require the knowledge, practices and perspectives of multiple subject areas working in concert (National Academy of Science, 2005). A focus on ecological perspectives further challenges educators to think about how to present the integrated disciplinary content in a way that both allows learners to see the relevance for their own lives and communities, and allows them to bring their own life experiences to bear (Bevan, 2016). The goal of providing an opportunity to travel and study outside of the US can be thought of as an opportunity to expand and diversify one’s

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learning ecology. There is particular need for increased global understanding by candidates who, like those in our program, are preparing to teach in culturally and linguistically diverse urban settings. Research has reported on the benefits of teacher candidates experiencing being in the language minority or in some other way being forced outside their comfort zone during international study opportunities. Trilokekar and Kukar (2011) described how the “experience of being an ‘outsider,’ of having one’s taken for-granted identity challenged, enabled in students sense of ‘newness’ of ‘trying something different’” (p. 1146) even as they reported a degree of discomfort during these situations. In this way, international study trips offer a form of novelty that can support candidates’ development of one of our teacher preparation program’s Enduring Understandings: Candidates will understand that effective educators maintain and utilize global perspectives and internationalmindedness when engaging in teaching, learning and leading, including the awareness and application of the social, cultural, inter-cultural and linguistic facets of student achievement.

Sample Trip Experiences The short-term study abroad trip came half-way through the semester, following three introductory course sessions in which candidates were introduced to fundamental understandings about the nature and culture of science and the Framework for K-12 Science Education and the NGSS, particularly the notion of “three-dimensional” and phenomena-based learning (Krajcik, 2015). In order to become more knowledgeable about key sites and topics areas relevant to the upcoming trip experiences and more familiar with the NGSS Disciplinary Core Ideas and Cross-Cutting Concepts, candidates also worked in small groups to conduct pre-travel background research and prepare an introductory presentation to their peers. The topic areas included the Panamá Canal, the Soberania National Park and the climate and biodiversity of Panamá’s tropical rainforest. These preparations gave candidates a way to begin thinking about their trip as a study experience rather than a vacation experience, allowed them to develop expertise in certain areas of the trip prior to departure, and begin to explore the NGSS in a way that connected the standards to something tangible – specific sites they would explore in their upcoming trip. They returned to the standards in their post-trip lesson-planning project, described in more detail in the next section. While the NGSS are of specific interest to the US context, these examples can be applicable to the standards most relevant to other contexts.

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Interdisciplinary Connections at the Panamá Canal One element of the study abroad experience was a trip to the Panamá Canal, which allowed for an interdisciplinary exploration of science, engineering, and history. Like people across the US and other parts of the world, the teacher candidates regularly purchase and benefit from merchandise and commodities that pass through the Panamá Canal, but had little sense of how the canal came to be, including the engineering design challenges that were overcome, or its social, cultural and environmental impacts. The NGSS states that: At the high school level students are expected to engage with major global issues at the interface of science, technology, society and the environment and to bring to bear the kinds of analytical and strategic thinking that prior training and increased maturity make possible. Yet, these candidates completed high school before the NGSS were released and before engineering was a focus of the school curriculum. Thus, this visit was included to help candidates gain familiarity with NGSS core ideas around engineering (ETS1: Defining and Delimiting Engineering Problems, Developing Possible Solutions, Optimizing the Design Solution) and related crossconcepts and practices. They explored the history of the canal’s formation, a formidable engineering feat attempted by many since the 1500s but finally completed in 1914 that linked the Atlantic and Pacific oceans for international trade and military transportation by using a series of dams and locks to lift ships across the Panamanian isthmus. They gained a better sense of the relationship between engineering, science and social, cultural and environmental impacts as they explored the science and engineering between the original and newly opened locks, as well as the scientific, technical, engineering, medical, and political challenges that included landslides and deforestation, illness due to yellow fever and malaria, immigration and deportation, military negotiations, and national independence movements (McCullouh, 1977; Parker, 2008). While they had read and watched videos about the functioning of the canal system and some had even visited other much smaller locks, the visit presented numerous, novel learning modalities. As one candidate wrote, I was being reminded of things we discussed in class and comparing the notes we received [from our peers] about the canal and its locks. I was also taking in materials that we didn’t cover in the classroom, so again, it was cool to compare and contrast textbook notes to real life, firsthand observations…I saw our discussions come to life.

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Watching the locks open and close as boats pass through allowed candidates to develop a deeper, more authentic understanding of the engineering design challenge involved. Further, exploring the canal museum created from a Panamanian as opposed to United States perspective (that they were more familiar with), interacting with local and international tourists and watching a national video also prompted candidates to consider the impact the site had and continues to have on global trade, military, and political relations. As another candidate reflected, it became increasingly apparent how “scientific advancements and discoveries are made possible by the circumstances of society… simultaneously, science has many consequences for people.” Candidates were asked to keep a reflective journal and on this day they were prompted to reflect on the visit through various “lenses,” or from a variety of perspectives such as scientist, engineer, historian, teacher, social justice, etc. They remarked how the interconnections of the disciplines they studied came to life as they considered the context in which the engineering challenge took place, and learned more about this time period in their own national history than they had ever previously in grade school. Additionally, the visit reminded them of their background research explaining the relationship between the canal and protection of the watershed that is needed to ensure a continuous water supply. The above student responses call to mind Gibson’s (1977) explanation of affordances, both in terms of settings as well as opportunities available for learning within those settings. In this out-of-school learning setting away from their home country, candidates had the opportunity to experience museum exhibits and a film from a non-US perspective. Taking another perspective challenged their outlook and encouraged open-mindedness and global consciousness (Holden & Hicks, 2007). Additionally, while it is uncommon for students in typical US schools to be exposed to integrated thematic units of study, this experience further encouraged candidates to think beyond strict disciplinary lenses and consider the relationships between science, other content areas, and real-world issues that have local and global significance.

Developing Inquiry-based Unit Plans at Soberanía National Park A second element of the study abroad experience was a day trip to Soberanía National Park, which included exploration of a low-land tropical rainforest. This experience was included to give candidates an opportunity to gather ideas and questions for the development of an inquiry-based unit plan around a natural phenomenon they encountered in the rainforest. The assignment was designed to encourage their understanding of NGSS three-dimensional

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learning, bringing together core ideas, cross-cutting concepts and disciplinary practices. Here, the novelty of the learning environment was paramount. While typical to locals of this area, most of the plants and animals were different than those commonly found at home. As we walked along the paths, we encountered colorful birds of all shapes and sizes including some so tiny they required binoculars to spot, butterflies, flowering trees, and climbing vines. Naturally, curiosities and questions abounded for many. As one student recorded in her journal: With our main event, the rainforest, so much was being taken in & I was overwhelmed by the beauty of Panamá. To start off with my senses, I saw, heard, & smelled some of the most exotic & exciting things. I saw a bird’s eye view of the forest, trees so high I can’t see the top, colorful insects, butterflies, monkeys, animals I don’t know the species of, a hundred different leaves, paths, plants bigger than my face & hummingbirds. Here, we see evidence of how new stimuli provided pleasure and, in turn, motivation for learning (Ratey, 2002). The experience afforded candidates an opportunity to remember what it is like for young children who are captivated by the natural world around them, enthusiastically questioning and seeking to understand their surroundings and the phenomena they encounter. Yet, other candidates grew up in the city and commented that they had limited experiences with forests, particularly as adults. As future elementary educators, they said they were eager to help youth develop an appreciation of nature but were not actually themselves accustomed to exploring the outdoors, stopping and looking closely, and posing questions about their encounters. They needed to practice the kind of exploration that, as Honig (2015) writes, connects young children to the wonder and delight of nature, awakens curiosity, and encourages a sense of stewardship. After stopping at the lake for a break, I had the group sit with eyes closed and just listen to the sounds around us. After, and then later in their journals, they reflected on what they noticed (through various senses –seeing, hearing, touching), how this changed their observations and the way this experience made them feel. Next I spaced candidates out on the trail, about two minutes apart, so that they could walk slowly through the woods on their own, having a personal moment with the natural surroundings without the distraction of friends and other people. Again, I asked them to consider both how this changed how they attended to what was around them, and to the way this experience made them feel. For those who have grown up in urban

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environments, the experience of being fully surrounded by nature was both novel and intense. The quality of candidates’ observations, attention to their surroundings and question posing was rewarded by the spotting of a pair of small spider monkeys hidden in the trees. The monkeys became a quick favorite, and we would have a chance to learn more about them at the last site of the trip. This type of learning experience was completely novel to the candidates. Not only were many unfamiliar with being in a rainforest – or any type of forest – the candidates were unfamiliar with being taught science or scientific inquiry by being asked to close their eyes, listen to their surroundings, and then pay close and detailed attention to what they observe on a silent walk. This is an activity that I have done with learners of various ages in different parks and trails and has become a favorite way of encouraging new ways of thinking about one’s relationship to natural world surroundings. It also works to disrupt the traditional school-based focus on canonical knowledge to allow for joy and wondering as part of science (Gilbert, 2013). The goal is that students begin to realize that awe, wonder, fascination and anticipation “can become the focus or motivator for further thinking and enquiry” (Milne, 2010, p. 106).

Authentic Ethology Studies at Safarick’s Zoologic Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation Program The Caribbean side of Panamá is home to Safarick’s Zoologic Rescue and Rehabilitation Program. This visit, recommended by our school partner hosts who come frequently with elementary grade school groups, offered a chance to learn about ethology, the study of animal behavior, as well as focus again on NGSS core ideas, cross-cutting concepts and the application of core science practices used by professional scientists as well as by students learning about science. Specifically, this visit highlighted the topic of animal behavior, growth, and development and the idea that animals have distinct physical structures that they use in different ways to see, hear, grasp objects, protect themselves, move from place to place, and seek, find, and take in food, water and air. Here again both the learning environment and modalities proved exciting because of their novelty. Most animals were ones that are not frequently encountered often, but the chance to interact with the animal care professionals and the animals was motivating even when the animals were more familiar. The animals at the park have been rescued from a variety of circum-

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stances. Some are being rehabilitated to be able to return to the wild, if possible, while others will spend the remainder of their lives at the park. Our visit began with a tour of the animals at the park and an introduction to the idea of environmental enrichment for the animals, which aims to provide various stimuli to enrich the environment of captive animals in order to enhance their physical and mental well-being (Shepherdson, 1998). With enrichment, the environment could be changed, such as through exhibit design, introducing toys for stimulation, and presenting food in new ways to encourage interaction and physical and mental challenges. Next, the group participated in a variation of the popular bird beak activity (see Allen & Park, 2011) where learners make use of variety of tools that serve as “bird beaks” to collect different size and shaped seeds, discovering how different beaks are better for opening different seeds. In our case, the park educators engaged candidates in exploring the concept of form and function by designing and constructing a series of enrichment activities that they would then take and give to the animals. This required candidates to combine what they had learned about the animals with what they observed of how the animals interacted with their environments. They also developed and tested their predictions about how the animals would respond to their enrichment challenges. Through this novel and authentic introduction to ethology, candidates had a specific motivation to attend to the animals’ behavior, physical, and social characteristics in order to design enrichment activities for them. There was further motivation from knowing that the activity had purpose beyond a class exercise. The staff had explained how the animals sincerely benefited from having novel challenges introduced by the new designs. Finally, this visit also introduced the science concepts in relation to a particular career that candidates could also share with their future students. While the group would not have access to this particular site and program when back in the US, they brainstormed other places and resources that are available to engage their future students in learning experiences with similar characteristics. The novelty afforded by a day at Safarick’s centered on the differences between this animal refuge and more typical zoos candidates had encountered in the US. Candidates thought they knew what to expect from the site. However, in contrast to previous experiences visiting zoos as part of primary school field trips, here they found a strong orientation on rescue and rehabilitation, natural habitats and native species, and animal behavior. They also found the learning experiences to be highly interactive and meaningful for them as learners, particularly since they involved contributing to the park’s care for the animals.

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Conclusions & Implications The short-term study trip described in this chapter was a formidable part of an elementary science methods course designed around three overarching goals: (a) to provide candidates with a vision of how the disciplines and disciplinary practices of science/engineering and social studies/history complement one another; (b) to model working in partnership with other educators from across varied contexts to make connections across students’ learning ecologies; and (c) to expand and diversify one’s own learning ecology by traveling and studying outside of the United States. The sample experiences highlighted in this chapter illustrate how a study trip can afford novel environments and opportunities for learning about science, teaching and learning, and oneself. In this way, the trip serves as resistance to homeostasis and the natural tendency to return to one’s known, familiar stable state. Candidates saw the relevance of interdisciplinary perspectives in understanding the sites and phenomena they encountered, and came away with the realization that, as one candidate stated, “the four academic disciplines [science, engineering, history and social studies] are more complementary than I thought…entwined just like the twisting vines and branches of the towering rainforest trees.” Their learning was supported not solely by me and the other faculty, but by the many non-formal educators, park guides, shuttle-bus drivers, restaurant staff, youth, animals, etc. that they interacted with over the course of the trip. As candidates came to value the experiential learning opportunities, they recognized the power of working collaboratively with a variety of partners to facilitate learning, sparking ideas for how they might do so in their future teaching career. Finally, in stepping outside of their everyday routines and being exposed to another region and culture, candidates expanded and strengthened their personal teaching philosophies, particularly in regard to their appreciation of incorporating multiple global perspectives in their curriculum: “students cannot receive a full picture of understanding without looking at events or situations from multiple perspectives,” in the words of one teacher candidate. The course also sought to disrupt homeostatic visions of education and traditional norms and expectations of science teaching and learning that candidates often bring to the elementary science methods course (Smetana et al., 2017). The novelty of the trip, in terms of both learning environments and the experiential learning approaches, compounded with the intensity of the short-term focused program, facilitated this disruption (Shames & Alden, 2005; Vande Berg, Paige, & Hemming, 2012). Rather than seeing science and learning more generally as static, disconnected, stepwise and

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inconsequential to their lives, experiences and other subject areas, the trip experiences prompted candidates to consider a different vision of teaching and learning. In this way candidates were simultaneously challenged in their homeostatic view of teaching and learning by virtue of the novel learning experiences they were provided by this trip. The way one candidate interrogated a homeostatic vision of education is evident in this excerpt from the final course summative assignment: Most importantly, I learned a lot about the type of teacher I want to become in the near future. I plan on taking advantage of the museums, historical sites, and the natural world around me to help emerge my students in the most inclusive learning experience. I want to show students that there is more to learning than sitting in a traditional style classroom where the teacher is fully in control of their learning. I hope to inspire students by providing them with multiple outlets of learning. Above all, I want students to be aware that they can facilitate their learning by taking their education into their own hands. The intent was that as teacher candidates reflected on the diversity and breadth of their own learning ecologies, including the influence of this shortterm study abroad experience, they be better prepared to recognize, draw upon and help connect elements of their future students’ learning ecologies even if that was not something modeled for candidates in their own previous school-based experiences. Overall, the novelty and intensity of this and other study trips offer affordances – in terms of the objects and environments as well as opportunities available for learning within those environments (Gibson, 1977) – that have the potential to transform the way teacher candidates and faculty think about their own and their students’ science teaching and learning.

References Allen, H., & Park, S. (2011). Science education and ESL students. Science Scope, 35(3), 29–35. Anderson, P., Meyer, A., Eisenhardt, K., Carley, K., & Pettigrew, A. M. (1999). Applications of Complexity theory to organization science. Organization Science, 10(3), 233–236. Bang, M., & Medin, D. (2010). Cultural processes in science education: Supporting the navigation of multiple epistemologies. Science Education, 94(6), 1008–1026.

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Bevan, B. (2016, March 1). STEM learning ecologies: Relevant, responsive and connected. Connected Science Learning. http://csl.nsta.org/2016/03/stem-learning-ecologies/ Birmingham, D., Smetana, L. K., & Coleman, E. R. (2017). “From the beginning, I felt empowered”: Incorporating an ecological approach to learning in elementary science teacher education. Research in Science Education. Retrieved from https://doi. org/10.1007/s11165-017-9664-9 Bronfenbrenner, U. (1977). Toward an experimental ecology of human development. American Psychologist, 32(7), 513–531. Capra, F. (1996). The web of life: A new scientific understanding of living systems (1st Anchor Books ed.). New York, NY: Anchor Books. Capra, F. (2005). Complexity and life. Theory, Culture & Society, 22(5), 33–44. Gilbert, A. (2013). Using the notion of ‘wonder’ to develop positive conceptions of science with future primary teachers. Science Education International, 24(1), 6–23. Holden, C., & Hicks, D. (2007). Making global connections: The knowledge, understanding and motivation of trainee teachers. Teaching and Teacher education, 23(1), 13–23. Honig, A. S. (2015). Experiencing nature with young children: Awakening delight, curiosity, and a sense of stewardship. Washington, DC: National Association for the Education of Young Children. Krajcik, J. (2015). Three-dimensional instruction: Using a new type of teaching in the science classroom. Science and Children, 53(3), 6–8. Lortie, D. (1975). Schoolteacher: A socialogical study. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. McCullough, D. (1977). The path between the seas: The creation of the Panama Canal, 1870–1914. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster. McGrane, A. P., & Sternberg, J. R. (1992). Discussion: Fatal vision – The failure of the schools in teaching children to think. In C. Collins & J. N. Mangieri (Eds.), Teaching thinking: An agenda for the twenty-first century (pp. 333–344). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Milne, I. (2010). A sense of wonder, arising from aesthetic experiences, should be the starting point for inquiry in primary science. Science Education International, 21(2), 102–115. National Academy of Sciences. (2005). Facilitating interdisciplinary research. Washington, DC: National Academies Press. National Research Council. (2015). Identifying and supporting productive STEM programs in out-of-school settings (Committee on successful out-of-school STEM learning). Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. Parker, M. (2007). Panama fever: The epic story of the building of the Panama Canal. New York, NY: Random House.

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Shames, W., & Alden, P. (2005). The impact of short-term study abroad on the identity development of college students with learning disabilities and/or AD/HD. Frontiers: The Interdisciplinary Journal of Study Abroad, 9, 1–31. Shepherdson, D. (1998). Tracing the path of environmental enrichment in zoos. In D. Shepherdson, J. Mellen, & M. Hutchins (Eds.), Second nature: Environmental enrichment for captive animals (pp. 1–12). Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press. Smetana, L. K., Birmingham, D., Rouleau, H., Carlson, J., & Phillips, S. (2017). Cultural institutions as partners in initial elementary science teacher preparation. Innovations in Science Teacher Education, 2(2). Retrieved from http://innovations.theaste.org/ cultural-institutions-as-partners-in-initial-elementary-science-teacher-preparation/ Van de Berg, M., Paige, M., & Hemming, K. L. (2012). Student learning abroad. Sterling, VA: Stylus Publishing, LLC. Von Bertalanffy, L. (1972). The history and status of general systems theory. The Academy of Management Journal, 15(4), 407–426.

CHAPTER 10

Using Photovoice as a Novel Approach to Developing an Anthropogenic Impact Homeostasis Model Patricia Patrick

Abstract The participatory process of photovoice asks participants to take photographs, which they use to describe a topic related to their life. I employed photovoice as a novel approach to teaching and considered the psychological effects of novelty and homeostasis as catalysts for learning. Novelty was the uniqueness and innovation of an original classroom assignment. Homeostasis was the comfort zone of personal concepts about the environment. For educators, focusing on human impact and its role in environmental change is paramount in conservation and environmental education. For students, a well-developed understanding of human impact is of utmost importance as they learn about their role in the environment. I identify the factors within an overlapping system that inform students’ ideas of human impact. In order to identify these factors, I used illustrations and writings from a photovoice project completed by middle level students (ages 10–14) to outline the genotypes and phenotypes of their ideas about human impact. The genotypes are represented by the students’ writings about human impact. The phenotypes of their thoughts about human impact are presented in their photographs. The photographs and writings reflect the students’ knowledge of human impact – what and who they recognize in their local community in relation to human impact. The data were employed to design the Anthropogenic Impact Homeostasis Model.

Introduction In this chapter, I describe my work with middle school students’ awareness and emotional response to the human impact in their community environments. I used photovoice as a novel approach to teaching and considered the psychological effects of novelty and homeostasis as catalysts for learning. Novelty, in this case, is the uniqueness and innovation of an original classroom © koninklijke brill nv, leideN, 2019 | DOI:10.1163/9789004391635_010

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assignment. Novelty can excite students and disrupt their current thinking, while homeostasis is the comfort zone of concepts that are not changing. For the purpose of this study, the students were asked to take photographs in their local environment of what they thought represented anthropogenic impact (photovoice). This allowed me to explore how students reacted to this novel activity. Anthropogenic impact, or human impact, is the influence humans have on the Earth’s ecosystems (Ayram, Mendoza, Etter, & Saclicrup, 2017; Hautier, Tilman, Isbell, Seabloom, Borer, & Reich, 2015). I employed the photovoice method as a novel approach to encouraging students to interact with, think about, and describe their ideas concerning local anthropogenic impact. In doing so, I explored not only how students reacted to photovoice as a novel approach when describing their local environment, but also the extent to which their ideas about anthropogenic impact reached homeostasis. As the students accommodated for their changes in knowledge they sought to reach equilibrium. An important characteristic of learning is seeking and maintaining homeostasis or balance (Stacey, 2001). The complexity of the interactions students experience within their local community could have induced disequilibrium, which can lead to a change in their existing ideas (Walls, 2016). In this study, two opportunities to change the content of their thinking to a new “normal” or homeostatic level are taking place. First, the experiences of taking photographs for learning could be a positive experience providing a new learning method could now be incorporated into their range of learning methods comfortably – a change in their conceptual understanding of how assignments can be completed – a homeostatic change, evidenced by the positive feelings expressed in using photovoice. Second, the experiences students have taking photographs could evoke conflicting emotions, because their current beliefs about the local environment are placed in doubt. According to Sandars and Haythornthwaite (2007), if students recognize positive impacts in the environment, they are more likely to experience homeostasis in their ecological perspectives. However, if the students feel negative about the environment, they are more likely to experience disequilibrium in their ecological perspective (Sandars & Haythornthwaite, 2007). Photovoice: Novel Lens for Identifying Anthropogenic Impact Photovoice is a participatory research method designed by Wang and Burris, which allows people to “identify, represent and enhance their community through photographic techniques” (Wang, 1999, p. 185). The goal of the photovoice process is for participants to take photographs that: (a) express beliefs and concerns about their community; (b) promote critical dialog about community issues; (c) encourage group discussions; and, (c) communicate with

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politicians. Wang and Burris’ (1994, 1997) original work focused on the use of photovoice as a communication tool for people to express health care concerns and issues and portray personal health behaviors. Photovoice became a technique for encouraging people to recognize, record, and discuss community issues affecting their lives. More recently, educators used photovoice in classrooms as a way to encourage students to tell stories and discuss topics, motivate students’ critical thinking, allow students to direct their learning, analyze students’ knowledge, and gain an understanding of students’ perceptions of their local environment (e.g., Chonody, Ferman, Amitrani-Welsh, & Martin, 2013; Cook & Buck, 2010; Furman & Barton, 2006; Wang & Burris, 1994; Wee & Anthamatten, 2012; Wolsey & Uline, 2010; Zahra, 1993). I chose photovoice because the process promotes critical consciousness and allows people to reflect on their realities (Wang & Burris, 1994). Photographs are mobile actors acting as products and producers. Meaning, photographs are non-human actors that are part of a negotiation process of reflecting emotion, reaction, and appropriation. The photographs become a part of the network of emergence. The newly emerging properties of the pictures will aid in defining students’ knowledge of anthropogenic impact. For this study, taking photographs served two important roles. First, photovoice was a novel approach to encouraging students to express their beliefs about anthropogenic impact in their local community, because the educators were not using the technique. Second, photovoice allowed a look at how the complexity of the interactions students experienced within their local community induced homeostasis, or positive feelings. Photovoice has been identified as a valuable tool in addressing the complexity of assessing socio-ecological systems (Berbés-Blázquez, 2012). In addition, precedence exists for using photovoice as a way to identify the socio-ecological viewpoints among participants and their local environment (e.g. Bennett & Dearden, 2013; Bisung, Elliott, Abudho, Schuster-Wallace, & Karanja, 2015; Moletsane, de Lange, Mitchell, Stuart, Buthelezi1, & Myra Taylor, 2007; Strack, Lovelace, Jordan, & Holmes, 2010). Similar to this study, Ardoin, DiGiano, Bundy, Chang, Hothuis, and Connor (2014) used photography and journaling to determine how 5–15 year olds at an environmental education summer camp in a national park defined their experiences. Bundy et al. (2004) found that even though social interactions were an important aspect of the learning experience, the observations and experiences students had outside the program were equally important. Using such novel approaches to teaching and learning, when introducing students to new subject matter, can serve as an important basis for structuring a lesson (Anderman, Noar, Zimmermann, & Donohew, 2004; Chen, Darst, & Pangrazi, 1999; Flowerday, Schraw, & Stevens, 2004). Novel experiences

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arouse student curiosity, because novelty challenges current student knowledge (Palmer, 2005) and creates interest (Palmer, 2004; Renninger & Hidi, 2016). Fenker and Schütze (2008) found that “learning by surprise,” or novelty, “seems to promote memory” (p. 17). Bultitude and Sardo (2012) demonstrated this reality in situ. At three venues (garden festival, music festival, and public park), they successfully engaged public audiences in science-related activities. They found the audience identified novelty of the science activities as a factor in recruiting their participation. However, Bultitude and Sardo do caution “novelty alone is insufficient the quality and appropriateness of the science communication must also be taken into consideration” (p. 28). A comparable study carried out by Sardo and Grand (2016) at a summer cultural festival further supported the finding that novelty is a positive factor in participation. In this study, the novel activity was photovoice. In this photovoice project, I adapted biological terms. The term genotype indicates the genes of the organism and phenotype is the physical expression of the characteristics. For this project, genotype is the meaning or ideas students internalize about anthropogenic impact. The notions they share externally through photographs represent the phenotype of their thoughts. However, as in biology, the phenotype of the photographs may not be a complete expression of the students’ thoughts. Therefore, we should consider cautiously the phenotypic model of anthropogenic impact produced from this research. Even so, the information from this study is of great value to educators and researchers interested in students’ local knowledge. When educators align a novel approach to student engagement (assignments) with defining student prior knowledge, educators may better understand how students assimilate content. In the case of this study, I meant the use of photovoice to be a catalyst encouraging students to define anthropogenic impact in their local community. The success of learning does not depend on the production of content, but on how the related activities connect to current and prior knowledge. Therefore, data collection took into account personal knowledge (Broadbent, 2002) and community interactions. Moreover, a phenotypic perspective of understanding students’ views of anthropogenic impact was important, because this perspective allowed educators to determine student prior knowledge and provided new means for thinking about the factors that influence students’ knowledge. Understanding students’ perspectives of anthropogenic impact is an important aspect of developing environmentally focused activities. Educators should develop research activities, whichand allow students to express their knowledge of the local community. The photovoice approach reflects the idea of empowering students through understanding their voice.

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Methodology Participants The participants were a convenience sample of 340 middle level students (ages 10–13) in three North Carolina, USA, communities. The group consisted of 190 females and 150 males. Three schools each from a rural, suburban, or urban setting participated. The rural school was on the coast and students (n = 124) were from five art classes. The suburban school was near the foothills of the mountains approximately 13 miles from a large city and students (n = 101) were from five science classes. The urban school was in a city in the middle of the state and students were from five science classes (n = 115). Even though the schools represented differing geographic regions, the characteristics of the three schools were similar, low socio-economic and low achieving. Table 10.1 is a representation of the students from each school. The rural art educator was female and had 15 years of teaching experience. The suburban educator was male and was in his third year of teaching. The urban educator was female with nine years of teaching experience. Data Collection The educators and I presented the photovoice project to the students. (A more detailed explanation of the project students completed is available in the article Picture THIS: Taking Human Impact Seriously [Patrick & Patrick, 2010].) The educators included the project as a part of their regular classroom assignments. On the day we introduced the project to students, we provided each student with a sheet of helpful tips for taking photographs. Additionally, students viewed Ansel Adams photographs as examples for taking excellent photographs and of anthropogenic impact. After a thorough discussion of photography and how to take photographs, we introduced students to the human [anthropogenic] impact photography project. We used the term “human impact” with students. The educator asked table 10.1  Student population by school

School

African American female Rural 17 Suburban 12 Urban 16 Total 45

African American male 12 14 16 42

Caucasian Caucasian Hispanic Hispanic Total female male female male  46  39  37 122

35 17 29 81

 6  9  8 23

 8 10  9 27

124 101 115 340

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students to take 20 photographs they believed best-represented human impact in their local community. We allowed students to use their phones. If students did not have smartphones, we provided 35 mm digital cameras. We asked students to keep a journal of the 20 photographs and include the following information: (a) Where did you take your photograph? (b) Describe the subject of your photograph. (What is in your photograph?) (c) Why did you choose this particular subject as one of your photographs? (d) How does the picture of your subject portray how humans have impacted the environment? (e) Why do you believe that the subject of your photograph is a good visual representation of human impact on the environment? (f) Is the subject of your photograph a positive or negative representation of human impact? Why? (g) How does the subject of your photograph make you feel? Why? We asked students to match their photographs and answers to the questions and place them in a Word file. Students had two weeks to complete the project. On the day students turned in their photovoice project, we asked them to reflect on the project with the following writings prompts: – My favorite thing about this project was… – My least favorite thing about this project was… Over the next two weeks, students chose 15 of their photographs and used Photo Story 3™, Windows Movie Maker™, or Mac iMovie™ to produce digital stories. Students shared the digital stories with the class. The last aspect of the project was to involve the community. We held a community art show as a platform for students to share their thoughts about human impact in the community. Students chose one photograph to display with their answers to the journal questions. During the art show, we displayed the pictures and played the digital stories on a blank wall. As parents left the art show, I interviewed them about their child’s involvement in the project. I analyzed 10 random parent interviews from each art show (N=30). After project completion, I interviewed the three educators and asked them to reflect on the project. Additionally, I interviewed ten students, five males and five females, from each school about their photographs and their ideas about the project (N=30). Data Analysis I analyzed the photographs, student journals, and educator, parent, and student interviews. The data analysis and the results presented below are related to this chapter topic. The 340 students took a total of 4,780 photographs. However, I analyzed 3,926 photographs, because students had multiple photographs representing the same image. For example, a student took five photographs of litter and did not answer the questions or provided similar answers for the questions. I included more than one photograph of litter in

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the data, if the student addressed the questions in a different way for each photograph. I imported and analyzed the photographs and corresponding journal entries using NVivo10. First, I placed the photographs into categories of negative and positive human impact. Second, I established themes by examining the photograph and reading of what the student stated they took a picture. Third, I completed a second coding on the writings about each photograph to interpret how students described their photographs. A science education graduate student and I independently completed a preliminary open coding of the same 50 photographs and journal entries (from different students) to determine themes and subthemes (Charmaz, 2006). The main themes within the positive and negative photographs and reflective journals were not the same; therefore, we separately identified the main themes within each set of photographs. We found that 12 themes existed across positive and negative photographs: Manmade Structure, Chemical, Garbage/Litter, Recycle, Energy Efficient, Trash Receptacle, Plant, Water, Nonhuman Animal, Land, Human, and Appliance. We divided the themes into positive and negative themes. Table 10.2 presents the themes and subthemes upon which we agreed, with student journal examples for each theme. table 10.2  Photograph and journal entry themes and subthemes with journal entry examples

Positive photographs Theme Subthemes Appliance, battery, bicycle, Energy efffijicient fijireplace, hybrid automobile, light bulb, public transportation, solar power, walk

Recycle

Composting, grocery bag, recyclable, recycle bin, recycled material, reusable material

Example from journal Florescent light bulb[s] cause less wast [waste] in our landfijills, less resources needed to make bulbs…last longer. (African American Male) solar panels. By heating with solar panels a person cuts down on their electricity. (African American Female) …Toilet bowl used as a planter… (Caucasian Male) rubber mulch. Instead of replacing mulch every year and killing trees the rubber is very long lasting. (Caucasian Female) (cont.)

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table 10.2  Photograph and journal entry themes and subthemes with journal entry examples (cont.)

Positive photographs Theme Subthemes Manmade Businesses, bridge, carwash, structure concrete, greenhouse, home, pipe/ditch, power line, road

Nonhuman Birdfeeder, birdhouse, cat, animal chicken, cow, dog, horse, hunting

Plant

Farming, plant, planting, trees, garden

Water

Creek, faucet, lake, ocean, rain, river, stream, water

Example from journal Water treatment plant. The plant treats the sewage water to make it clean and then properly dispose of the water. (African American Female) Store. The world is getting bigger. People need and use more stores. (Hispanic Male) Horse. Man has domesticated and used them to their own benefijit. (Caucasian Female) Frogs help the environment, well because you see frogs eat certain insects that are bad for the environment. (Hispanic Male) Sea oats. Planting sea oats to stop erosion and protect the shore line [sic]. (Caucasian Female) Hydroponic tomatoes. When they are grown in a green house then there’s no chemicals geeing the soil. No pestosides [pesticides]. (Hispanic Female) Lake. We took the time to make a new home for animals…we want to make up for what we’ve done. (African American Male) River ferry. Shows how people have used it for transportation to improve the economy. (Figure 10.1) (Caucasian Female) (cont.)

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table 10.2  Photograph and journal entry themes and subthemes with journal entry examples (cont.)

Positive photographs Theme Subthemes Trash Dumpster, dump truck, receptacle landfijill, trashcan

Chemical

Green cleaning produce, Green detergent

Land

Empty lot, farm, park

Negative photographs Theme Subthemes Chemical

Acid rain, batteries, burning, cigarettes, exhaust, fertilizer, fijireplace, smoke

Example from journal Garbage can. People changed the environment by throwing their trash away and not littering. (African American Female) Dumpster. People throw trash in the dumpster so it is not on the ground. (African American Female) Eco cleaning products. Keep harmful fumes out of the air. (African American Female) Ecofriendly detergent. My mom washes clothes with ecofriendly detergent because it does not pollute the environment. (Caucasian Female) This is an empty lot next to my house. I took this pic [picture] because it shows how leaving land alone can give us a place to see beauty. (Figure 10.2) (Caucasian Female) Farm. People grow something. It helps feed the world. (Hispanic Male) Example from journal Cigarettes. Second hand smoke can go into the air and animals inhale this it could injure their lungs…terrible for the environment. (Figure 10.3) (African American Female) Grafffijitti [sic]. The chemicals in the spreay [sic] paint gets into the air. (Hispanic Female) (cont.)

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table 10.2  Photograph and journal entry themes and subthemes with journal entry examples (cont.)

Negative photographs Theme Subthemes Garbage/ Dumpster, garbage, landfijill, litter litter, trash

Manmade structure

Bridge, concrete, factory, house, pipe/ditch, parking lot, power line, sidewalk

Plant

Wood, garden, plants

Nonhuman Bear, cat, chicken, cow, deer, animal dog, horse, pig

Water

Creek, faucet, lake, pool, rain, river, stream, water

Example from journal Trash on the ground. People changed the environment by throwing or leaving trash on the ground. (Hispanic Male) Trash. When people throw trash out of their cars, this causes pollution…it is a proven fact that trash will not go away for many years. (African American Female) Fire department. Firefijighters help the land by getting reed [rid] of bad fijires. (Caucasian Female) Houses. All of that area used to be trees. We get oxygen from trees and now we have less oxygen. (African American Female) Wood to build houses. They had to cut down trees. We no longer have trees because people want to build… (Hispanic Male) Garden…you’re turning up the soil… spraying it with chemicals. (Hispanic Female) Cats. When people don’t get their cats fijixed then the animals become over populated. (Caucasian Male) Cows. When the [they] fart the [they] poison air. (Caucasian Male) Pool. Humans are still fijilling up there [their] pool even thought we are under a big drought. (Caucasian Female) Lake. Humans caused a drought by carbon dioxide…long droughts can cause a lot of deaths. (Hispanic Male) (cont.)

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table 10.2  Photograph and journal entry themes and subthemes with journal entry examples (cont.)

Negative photographs Theme Subthemes Appliance Dryer, microwave, stove, television, washing machine, computer

Land

Human

Example from journal TV/Radio. People make things in factories and factories have chemicals. It can cause acid rain. (Hispanic Male) AC [air conditioner]. We use the AC to keep cool, but it is destroying the ozone. (African American Female) Cemetery, empty lot, farm, park 52 acres of empty land for sale…could be mating grounds for deer, coyotes… they are ruining the food chain. (Caucasian Female) Cemetery. We have wasted land for people who are not living anymore. (Caucasian Female) Family member, friend, person Pregnant person. This is my sister. She is pregnant and added to the human population. The world is overpopulated. (African American Female) Person. Shows how they pollute the environment. By being here on earth, driving cars and smoking. This is why pollution is starting. (African American Female)

Once we established the codes, we completed a second coding of an additional 75 photographs and journal entries to determine if other themes emerged. We established no new themes. The author and graduate student agreed on 98% of the coded photographs and journal entries, which indicated that the themes and subthemes were valid for coding. The graduate student used the coding scheme to analyze the remaining photographs and writings. We specifically analyzed the educator, parent, and student interviews to distinguish data supported the notion the photovoice project was a novel approach. In addition, we recorded data reflecting students’ attitudes

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figure 10.1 Picture of a river ferry

figure 10.2 Picture of a vacant lot

figure 10.3 Picture of cigarettes

toward the assignment. In order to collect the data, the author and a graduate student read and discussed all interviews to expose instances of these topics.

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Results Photovoice: Novel Approach Parents. The 30 parents reflected excitement about the art show and the photovoice assignment. During the interviews, a female parent stated, “This is the most excited I’ve seen my child about a project. He loved it. He came home and wanted to take pictures of everything.” Parents of children with learning disabilities shared this sentiment. A female parent of an autistic student described her child’s reaction to the project as …positive…his teacher allowed him to work with another student so he wouldn’t have to do all the pictures, but he was so excited about the project that he took all pictures and I helped him write about them. This is one of the few homeworks [sic] I’ve seen him like. Additionally, 65% of the parents described how their children talked to them about the project and asked them to be involved. A male parent explained his involvement in the following way She never asks me to be involved in her homework, but this time we talked about human impact and she asked me to take her around the neighborhood to look for signs of human impact. We talked about what human impact is and how she could represent that in her photos. We had a great time. We were excited about seeing her work here at the art show. When I asked parents to reflect on their child’s participation and attitude toward the project, 55% of the parents talked about the “difference,” “newness,” and “contrast” of this project from other assignments. Parents described the project as, “different from all the other stuff they’ve been asked to do” (male parent), and, “not like anything I’ve seen her bring home” (female parent). A male parent elaborated on these remarks by stating Mack (all names are pseudonyms) liked this assignment. I think it’s because nobody ever asked him to take photos of what he thought. I think it gave him the feeling that he was in charge. This was a great project, because nobody thought of it before. This could probably be used to teach a lot of stuff. I don’t know like…it just asked him what he thought. Students. After project completion, I interviewed 30 students about their photographs and their ideas about the project. This section reports students’ answers to the interview prompt, “Tell me what you think about the project.”

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Interestingly, 97% of the students used positive words to describe the project, such as, “fun,” “interesting,” “awesome,” “like nothing else,” and, “never done anything like this before.” Of the 30 students I interviewed, 78% talked about how this project was a new experience. Mike (Caucasian Male) described the project as, “the funnest project I’ve ever done. It was fun.” Mike felt the project allowed him “to talk about what I know. No one said you have to do this…well they did…but you know what I mean. I could just…took [take] pictures of what I wanted.” Similarly, Isabel (Hispanic female) thought taking photographs to describe what she knew was …like so much fun. I told my mama [mom] and my tia [aunt] and ita [grandmother] about it. They thought it sounded fun too. My ita helped me take pictures of her garden and she drove me around to help me find stuff to take pictures of. Educators. During the educator interviews, I asked the three educators to reflect on the project, talk about their perceptions of student interest, and describe student project completion. The three educators agreed students showed interest in the project and nearly all students completed the project. The suburban science educator stated, “...only two students did not complete the assignment, which is a higher completion rate than I’ve ever had.” The rural art educator agreed and said, “The students were so excited about the activity that even students who never do anything completed the assignment.” Moreover, the educators’ comments reflected the novelty of the project was of interest to them, but they talked about a concern that students were not taught the topic before the assignment. For example, the urban science educator said I wasn’t sure this would work. My students didn’t know anything about human impact because we hadn’t talked about it…I had never thought about using photos to let them show their knowledge, but they seemed to like it. It was something they had never done so it was fun and new. I think I would use it again sometime. The rural art educator stated she “…never asked students to take photographs that represented their knowledge, but the assignment turned out great. I think students liked it because they had never done anything like this before…you know it was new and they like new stuff.” Additionally, she reflected on the art show and how parents reacted. “The art show turned out great. Parents liked it and kept talking about how their kids had never done anything like it before.”

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Genotypic and Phenotypic Factors and Components Table 10.3 presents the genotypic and phenotypic findings of the study in relation to the photographs taken. Below, I discuss the data exemplifying the factors of the Subject of Photograph, Community Entity, and Emotions. Phenotype. The phenotype in this study was the Subject of Photograph, which represented the student-local environment interactions. In order to define these interactions, I examined of what students took photographs and determined 12 themes existed. The following are the themes I discovered, as table 10.3  Phenotypic and genotypic factors and components of the anthropogenic impact homeostasis model

Factors Phenotype Subject of photograph (visual)

Genotype

Components Photographs: Manmade structure, chemical, garbage/litter, recycle, energy efffijicient, trash receptacle, plant, water, nonhuman animal, land, human, and appliance

Community entity First person: I, me, my, we, etc. (of whom the student Second person: you or your spoke) Third person: brother, builder, construction worker, dad, farmer, human, man, mom, people, sister, and they. Emotions (positive/negative)

Gender/Race Similar fijindings: African American females African American males Caucasian females Hispanic females Hispanic males Dissimilar fijindings: Caucasian males Community location (Rural/Suburban/Urban) Rural students: More negative plant photographs More positive land photographs Urban students: More positive and negative manmade Structure photographs Less positive chemical photographs

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reflected in Table 10.4, and the percentage of students who took photographs of each theme (N=3,926): Manmade Structure (29%), Chemical (19%), Garbage/ Litter (18%), Plant (9%), Recycle (6%), Energy Efficient (5%), Water (4%), Nonhuman Animal (3%), Trash Receptacle (2%), Land (2%), Human (1%), and Appliance (1%). The photographs represent the physical environment with which the students have interacted and recognized as human impact. Moreover, the photographs provide a view of the types of interactions students have in their daily lives with the environment. Genotype. The genotype consisted of perspectives found in the writing and included the student Emotions (positive/negative) and the Community Entity, or of whom the student spoke. Within the Emotions factor, I took into consideration the characteristics of gender and race, and community location (rural, suburban, urban), because these may elicit different responses to the environment and promote self-selection of environments in which to interact. While the photographs students took represent the physical environments, the writings and interviews provide information that may not be gleaned from the photographs. In order to show genotypic differences in photographs, the data are presented across gender and race in Table 10.4 and community location (rural, suburban, urban) in Table 10.5. Emotions: Gender and race. Across gender and race no differences existed among the photographs from African American Females and Males, Caucasian Females, and Hispanic Females and Males. However, as shown in Table 10.4, Caucasian Males did stand out as an exception. Caucasian Males took more photographs of Manmade Structures than other groups and identified the structures more often as positive human impact. Of the 344 Manmade Structures photographs, Caucasian Males classified 46% as positive human impact; whereas, the remaining groups identified less than 20% of Manmade Structures as positive. In addition to the photographs, the way in which Caucasian Males described human impact was distinctive. While the other student groups described eco-chemicals, recycling, planting trees, taking care of bodies of water, and energy efficient appliances as positive human impact, Caucasian Males were more likely to interpret businesses, farming, chemicals, cows, horses, and hunting as positive human impact. For example, Eugene’s idea about the importance of buildings reflects the beliefs of other Caucasian Males: “Picture of a wellhouse [sic]. This provides a water source for your home…without a wellhouse [sic] some people would be without water. It provides my house with water.” Additionally, Craven described a road as positive, “because we need somewhere to drive to get from place to place.” However, Manmade Structures were not the only photographs Caucasian Males wrote about as positive, but others might perceive negatively.

*Total number of pictures by race/gender. **Total number of pictures for that theme.

Manmade Chemical Garbage/ structure n=748 litter **n=1124 n=717 African American 25% 18% 16% Female *n=523 African American 26% 19% 17% Male n=374 Caucasian Female 27% 21% 18% n=1421 Caucasian Male 37% 17% 17% n=932 Hispanic Female 26% 20% 19% n=295 Hispanic Male 27% 19% 20% n=381 Total 29% 19% 18% n=3926

Race/ gender

7% 5% 4% 6%

10% 8% 9%

5%

4%

4%

6%

4%

5%

5%

5%

4%

3%

2%

3%

4%

3%

2%

2%

2%

1%

1%

7%

5%

1%

1%

2%

1%

2%

1%