Personal Reflections about Summer Science Institute 2010

“But what do you do?”

This was the question I attempted to dodge for most of my summer working with Dr. Grobstein as an intern for this year’s Summer Science Institute for K-12 Teachers, and with good reason. Trying to describe my work to other student researchers at Bryn Mawr was a nightmare. Each time I entered a discussion about summer work, my hope was that saying I was working for the biology department would be enough. It never was. People wanted to know what my project was, which lab I worked in, what tools I was using. And my responses never seemed to satisfy them—“I’m exploring the integration of education and neuroscience. We’re not really working in a traditional lab, it’s more like a ‘think lab.’ And as for tools, well, do our brains count?”

My lack of a microscope and chemicals made me somewhat of an outcast in the summer research loop, for I could never quite explain my work in a way that would justify it in the minds of those who considered “hard science” the only type of science. At night my friends would weave tales of dangerous fumes inhaled in the lab, or dissections gone devastatingly wrong. And what could I contribute? Maybe a story or two about how my computer repeatedly shut down on its own, or how we had spent an hour at a group meeting discussing the concept of infinity in relation to culture. I could not relate to my fellow students’ research experience. We were on different wavelengths—they were mixing solutions while I was typing an article; they were sitting through the mandatory orientation session on Safety in the Laboratory while I was on a train back home for the weekend, worry-free because the only injury I would have to worry about was a paper cut.

So I wasn’t doing “hard science.” Did that make my research “soft”? And what made my work so different that others hesitated to accept it as “science?” Admittedly, there were a few times when I would introduce my work as something other than research, saying that it was “more abstract and less scientific.” Looking back, I regret giving this response because it did not give my research—yes, I feel confident calling it that—justice. The science I was exposed to this summer, co-constructive inquiry, has taught me far more than any “real” experiment ever could, including the fact that what we consider to be “research” is only a tiny fraction of what the word actually encompasses. Science is so much more than biology, chemistry and physics—it is simply the act of being human and using questions to dig a little deeper beneath the surface of a problem.

Image Source: http://compliance.vpr.okstate.edu/images/research.jpg

The Search for “Research”

I had doubts about the scientific value of my work from the very beginning. After several meetings with Dr. Grobstein to discuss my interests and review what should be included in my abstract, I had only a vague idea of what my task would be. After actually writing the abstract, I had little more understanding. And when I arrived for my first day of work, sat down at our group’s “round table” and discussed why I had chosen to work for this particular program, things still did not change. Originally Dr. Grobstein gave us instructions regarding which articles to read, how many reaction papers to write, etc., but it quickly became apparent that we, the interns, were in charge of what to research based on what we were interested in exploring. This kind of autonomy in connection with research, something that I had always believed would be rigid and structured, was refreshing. However, it gave me pause—could something that felt this intellectually-liberating actually be considered “research” and be taken seriously? I began to search for the true meaning of what I was doing and connect it to the world outside of the Bryn Mawr “bubble.” In fact, a full understanding of the importance of my work (not to mention what my work actually was) did not come until much later on, when it was applied to the Summer Science Institute’s programming. Realizing this has led me to draw some important conclusions about the nature of research, dialogue, and understanding in relation to co-constructive inquiry:

1.   Research is anything but a one-man job. In fact, constant dialogue lead to some of my most fruitful realizations this summer. It was not only helpful but comforting to know that my work was being actively discussed by those around me, who themselves were investigating/creating material that was both unique and similar to my own. The value of conversation, the art of being able to articulate thoughts in a way that allows for those of others as well, is beyond compare, and the many group meetings and discussions I was a part of this summer showed me that true research should be collaborative. The stereotypical scientist, working alone hunched over a desk in his laboratory until all hours of the night, would get no salient work accomplished in the real world—whatever element he has isolated in the privacy of his workbench would never get the chance to be examined/discussed by others in the scientific community. Human beings are dynamic creatures, so why should research, a decidedly human activity, be anything but dynamic and shareable? My personal experience with co-constructive inquiry (in other words, collective questioning/conversation that leads to new understandings based on the thoughts and ideas of all involved) has been fulfilling and useful in that it has given me a new way to communicate ideas. I am now convinced that conversation is a tool no scientist (or anyone else, for that matter) can work successfully without; it is just as vital as any physical tool or set of equations. What good are research and ideas if they cannot be shared with a larger community who can help increase their potential?

2.   The full potential of a discovery or idea cannot be reached until it has been brought into conversation. I did not realize the far-reaching effects or applications of my research until it was used to help others, namely the Summer Science Institute participants, learn. It was not only gratifying but humbling to know that everything I had read, written and thought about in the month prior to the Institute was being put toward something much bigger—our educational system. The participants of the Institute taught me so much through their diversity, and used their dialogue to make my ideas even better and more suitable for the classroom. Connections I had not even thought about were made in a matter of minutes using material that I had put together and we (the Institute as a whole) deconstructed. 

Image Source: http://dumais.us/newtown/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/conversation.jpg

3.   “Deconstruction” is not a bad word. If anything, it is a useful tool in conversation and the creation of new ideas. What went on at the Institute was not nit-picking or splitting hairs, but deconstruction—the process of gradually unraveling a thought or idea in order to understand its full meaning and possibly expand it. Think of our Institute’s dialogue as a giant jigsaw puzzle, where new ideas fit together in various ways and can be shifted around to create new patterns (Note: This metaphor may not be entirely accurate because an actual jigsaw puzzle fits together to create only one “correct” final picture. Our Institute did not concern itself with conclusiveness or a “right answer,” as we were leaving room for new possibilities and treating the conversation as if no absolute answer existed.)

4.   Understanding can come without mastery. It’s quite possible that the knowledge and understanding I have come away with this summer amount to much more than what I have taken away from traditional schooling, simply because my experiences with the Institute have given me skills—conversation, patience, listening—that will last a lifetime and can be employed in any kind of social/cultural situation. My understanding of how the mind works, the how and why of people’s actions and reactions, has grown astronomically—but I am no master of the brain. In fact, I will probably not be for a very long time. This does not mean I have not gained knowledge, or that I have not become wiser because of what I have learned. Working in such a low-pressure environment as the Summer Institute, where perfection was not expected and freedom of thought was encouraged, allowed me to unconsciously build up my supply of connections made between different ideas and subjects. My summer did not end with my receiving a certificate within a certain field such as biology or neuroscience. I consider myself a “master” of thought, if anything. Exploring how the mind works and what makes us tick as both humans and individuals permitted my investigation of myriad topics in neurobiology. Most of the time it did not even feel like “work” because I was exploring those things I was interested in and enjoyed. Then, listening to others’ interests/thoughts brought my own full circle as I branched out intellectually and socially. Because I was given the freedom to let my mind flow freely, without worrying about giving a correct answer or residing within the boundaries of a structured lesson, I learned more in three weeks than I had in twenty years.

No Conclusions Here

In conclusion…I have not come to one, final conclusion. Co-constructive inquiry is not as difficult as it sounds. In fact, it is happening all the time—in every thoughtful conversation, every “round table”-style meeting where every voice is heard, it leaves its indelible mark and an opening for new thought. And if it has left such a large imprint on my being imagine what I can do for the youth of our world, who are only just beginning their exploration and learning how to interact. Their world is one full of voices from which they pick up new, magical ideas and carry them off in all directions. The Institute taught me to never settle on one idea as the final authority or absolute “correct” answer, so let me pose what may seem like a conclusion as a piece of advice: More often than not, embrace your mind as the mind of a child. You’ll be surprised at how much you can learn from the voices around you.