Observations from a mid-career, hybrid scientist communicator

Having firmly entered my mid-career years as a hybrid academic practitioner, it occurs to me to share a few things I've learned in case it helps those starting out. Although I only attend professional scientific society meetings once a year at most these days, I do still see a whole lot of tweets and am many conversations related to how the current system of training is not serving most students, who will go on to careers outside of academia. As someone who started asking these questions 20 plus years ago and organized quite a few "alternative science career" workshops in graduate school, it's interesting to reflect on where I am at this point. It also feels like there are enough of us that have already chosen or otherwise been on this path that there should be some lessons learned that can be shared.

Relationship first: An experiential workshop on relationship-centered approaches to climate communication

Gathering a stellar and open-hearted group of scholars and practitioners at the Mayacamas Ranch in northern California. Photo by me.

Last spring, Clare Gupta and I received support from Invoking the Pause to hold a workshop on relationship-centered approaches to climate change, which I've written a lot about in recent years. The basic idea is "relationship first," meaning that even when it comes to these heady scientific topics, it can be helpful to prioritize relationships with people over making a point. But, doing so definitely invites deep learning, self-reflection, and adaptation. The good news is that other fields like law, medicine, and psychology have made a lot of progress in how professionals navigate this terrain, and so there are a lot of resources out there.

Writing on the other blog

One of my favorite water views from Wildcat Peak in Berkeley. Photo by me.

In addition to writing here on what as become a fairly occasional basis, I write things with some regularity for our blog The Confluence (and for other publications, but we'll deal with that later).

For folks interested in California water issues, the posts I've written this year:

Holding out for a hero

So often in life, we want to be saved. We want miracles. We want to be rescued by a parent, by a prince, by a god, by technology, by science -- by a hero. And, who can blame us? It's the stuff of myth and legend and the stories we were all raised with.

Forging new paths in science engagement

The Pacific Crest Trail over the McCloud River. Photo by me.

I so appreciate this beautiful piece on "climate grief" and what it means for climate scientists. It was written by scientist Sarah Myhre and in a couple of my favorite passages, she says:

"We are hamstrung by our need for job security, funding, advancement, and promotion – because we, too, are juggling the demands of child rearing, aging parents, urban gentrification, and the winnowing of the middle-class.

Regardless, this is the time for a gut-check. Our job is not to objectively document the decline of Earth’s biodiversity and humanity, so what does scientific leadership look like in this hot, dangerous world?"

***

"I believe most scientists are also, quietly and professionally, mourning the loss of the balance of Earth’s life. The pain doesn’t stop. It’s carried upon every wildfire, coral bleaching, or marine die-off. But, we can use these waves of pain to inform our moral commitment to the present and future. It requires the brave integration of science and self, the acceptance of loss."

From drought to storms: El Niño in Hollywood

After ending my post on California water issues showing up all over the TV with a note about El Niño being next, Sharon Swart at The Hollywood Reporter put out this pretty great article on that very topic. It is filled with some kind of crazy stories, like this one from actress Dyan Cannon on the 1982-83 El Niño landing in her Malibu yard:

"'I ran downstairs, and the ocean was coming into my living room. Then I saw firemen falling into the pool; they didn't know it was there because it's covered with water.' While her house was drying out in Malibu, Cannon rented a place in Coldwater Canyon, where 'torrential rains came and the roof caved in.' She now lives in an L.A.-area condo, in part due to her El Niño misfortunes."

California water and drought on the TV box

I'm a television watcher -- or more accurately, a watcher of what passes for TV these days: streaming things onto various screens. What can I say? I adore pop culture and I work pretty hard with my brain all day and sometimes it likes to rest on entirely brainless things.

But, here's where my worlds are colliding. The thing I tire my brain out on all day is water. And, more and more, water is showing up on TV. As much as I try to ignore it, it's been super interesting to see how far the California drought is oozing into the deepest reaches of our psyches, at least as reflected in everything from family dramas to reality shows.

Tuning out, tuning in

The sound of thunder and lightning and a million grains of sand being stirred by monsoon winds in the desert. Photo by me.

Listening is something I spend a lot of time doing and thinking about, but over the past year or two I have noticed that my feelings about it have evolved quite a bit. In a nutshell, I'm seeing more and more that the times when I just can't bear to listen have as much to teach me as anything else.

Dry spells

After what felt like a really productive first half of 2015 where I wrote a bunch of articles and a book chapter, I think needed a couple months of silence. There is a way that working on drought issues full time can really dry a person up -- literally and figuratively. Somewhat paradoxically, a long sojourn to the desert last month helped a lot.

Drought anxiety

"California has about one year of water left. Will you ration now?" This was the *slightly* provocative title of an LA Times op-ed written by Jay Famiglietti, a UC Irvine hydrologist currently at NASA's Jet Propulsion Lab. He has since said that the title was not accurate, asking that people read the article itself.* Unfortunately, judging from a lot of my conversations, it was hard for many to read past the fold.

Today, Mark Morford of the San Francisco Chronicle wrote a pretty irreverent (as is his style -- big fan) article on what he is calling "California Water Anxiety Syndrome:"

that sinking feeling to trump all sinking feelings, that sour knot in the pit of the collective stomach, unnerving and strange and, let’s just admit, unutterably depressing.

Scientists Have Feelings Too

I was a scientist just a few years out of graduate school when I had a career-altering experience speaking with a man in tears at a community workshop. A large cluster of wildfires had burned through his small, close-knit northern California town, and many residents were forced to evacuate their homes. They were worried that their properties would be unprotected in the time they had to stay away: firefighting resources were strained due to additional wildfires in other parts of the state. Emotions ran high for everyone as my colleagues and I presented our work on how houses burn during wildfires.

Relationships, listening, conflict (and an actor) in science & communication

For the past five or so years, I've been writing and speaking extensively about the value of relational work, including deep listening, in science and communication. It's so heartening to see others joining that chorus. Alan Alda (yes, that Alan Alda), who is now a visiting professor at a science communication center named after him at Stony Brook University, has a beautiful reflection on his work teaching scientists to communicate more effectively. In an interview in The Atlantic with Jessica Lahey, he says:

Relatedness in action in science practice (#3)

In a beautiful blog post, Megan Adams gives a personal and honest account of both the benefits and challenges of community-engaged ecological research. In "Doing Science that Matters: Engaging with Communities in Collaborative Scientific Research," she describes working in coastal British Columbia and collaborating with groups of indigenous and non-indigenous people with "long-standing, adaptive, and evolving knowledge of natural systems" on a variety of projects.

California drought and climate change: a science communication challenge

This week, a new report focused on extreme weather events and climate change came out in the Bulletin of the American Meteorological Society. Since so much of my job involves filtering and sorting through this kind of information, particularly as it relates to California water issues, which right now are all drought all the time, I spent Monday watching a series of articles and tweets attempting to summarize that report come out. First was a link to the report itself. There was a lot of traffic (I'm assuming), so the report wouldn't load for me. At the same time, I started to see a lot of tweets about how we basically now know that the California drought is caused by climate change. Then as the afternoon went on came a series of tweets about how there is absolutely no measurable way that climate change caused the drought. Literally, two totally different headlines on the same topic within hours of each other. It was hard, even as somebody who is pretty well immersed in this stuff, to interpret the findings and figure out why the stories were so totally different.

Reconciling science research and practice

There is a lot of conversation these days around "bridging" research and practice in various fields - as a science and conservation type I tend to pay more attention to that piece, but I also see it in active conversation in the humanities and other fields as well. There are two main threads here that I think are helpful to break apart - one is how to better connect the results of research (and, not often enough, the process of research) with practice. The other related, but somewhat separate, piece is how to better train graduate students for practice-based careers in the sciences.

Compassion practice & our common humanity on this shared planet

"Real compassion kicks butt and takes names, and it is not pleasant on certain days." Ken Wilber

A dearly beloved person gave me the
Quan Yin figure in the top right photo
as a symbol of compassion,
it's helpful to have the reminders. 

There are times when compassion feels effortless, and times when it take real work. In graduate school I had a longer version of the Ken Wilber quote above on a piece of paper taped to my desk to remind me the hard days were okay. It was at least a dozen years ago and I had just begun a more conscious relationship with compassion, particularly with self-compassion, largely as a result of needing some help getting through my doctoral qualifying exams with what I came to understand later was a severe case of impostor syndrome. Seriously, every first year graduate school seminar should start with this topic just to get it out of the way early since so many of us encounter it unexpectedly.

My particular version came from feeling out of place at a major research university as a female, working class kid in a body that didn't and still doesn't fit the mold, combined with a lifelong family struggle that came to a head at the same time as an utterly confusing and identity-shifting personal relationship developed. I am grateful that instead of the many other ways it could have gone, this confluence of events started me on a complex and ultimately healing journey, with compassion as one of its main ingredients.

Beyond the buzz: change-making with science

I recently wrote a post about how to "generate buzz" about research where I mentioned that, in my mind anyway, attention-getting should not be conflated with actual change-making. There are lots of ways of looking at change-making, and here I am mostly talking about broad-scale, societal, and, most likely, policy change. What this kind of change-making really comes down to for me is working with other people. That is why I started to blog to begin with, and why I focus so much on the concept of relatedness - here focused on deepening capacity as a scientist or practitioner to participate in change-making efforts.

Live tweeting a drought

By now, many of you have undoubtedly seen some version of these NASA images that compare snow cover in California between 2013 and 2014. Believe it or not, 2013 was considered a drought year (as was 2012), so you can only imagine the visceral reaction these images have brought up over the past couple of weeks, released on the heels of the news that 2013 was the driest year ever recorded in the state. With barely a drop of rain so far in 2014, who knows what is on the horizon.

Relatedness in action in science practice (#2)

As my first post on "relatedness in action" mentioned, I'm trying to make the concept less abstract by pointing to examples of it that I see in the science world. Science journalist Michelle Nijhuis recently wrote a piece in the New York Times Opinionator blog on "The Science and Art of Science Writing." You should go read the whole thing, but in short it beautifully describes her work as a newly minted college graduate who while "looking for strange animals in strange places" found herself even more fascinated by the scientists she was working with as they gathered eagerly around a rattlesnake than she was by the snake itself.

What if complexity can actually be helpful in science communication and engagement?

What if the ways that we commonly think of communicating science, for example, by simplifying, messaging, and framing, don't work as well in issue areas where prolonged conflict is present? What if, instead, complexity and nuance might be helpful in such situations? This may seem counter to my recent "how to" on publicizing research, but begins to speak to the difference between "buzz generation" and change-making I mentioned there.