Though I don’t study people, I am curious about how art is used by scientists. Giving someone a camera, or a box of crayons, or some other non-language-based means of expressing their thoughts, breaks us free from the sentence structure and word choice that makes it too easy to interpret what others express in the context of our own worldview. I thought that the prompt to “draw a seabird” would be an interesting way for students to reflect on what they learned and to see if our visit made an impression.
Like most kindergartners, they readily dove into their drawings and were eager to describe them. “I’m drawing the ocean.” “This is an egg.” “This is a seabird. And THIS is a volcano. Erupting! The lava is flowing down and burning the bird.” “I’m adding a snake to my picture.” “Here are ducks!” (Ducks are not seabirds). “The eggs cracked, and two baby chicks fell out. They fell into the water. They are cheeping. The mother bird will save them. Here comes a wave! [student is actively drawing tsunami sized waves that encircle the mom and chicks that are…in a nest? or maybe floating in the water? Or maybe the nest is floating in the water?] But it is okay, the mother bird is strong.”
Okay, so that turned out much differently than I expected. In some drawings the seabird is clearly a black and white bird with orange feet, nailed it. But in others there are unexpected volcanos erupting and snakes sneaking into the picture unannounced. Does this mean that the student didn’t pay attention at all and doesn’t understand seabirds and their environment?
While watching the diverse interpretations of a “seabird” emerge under the enthusiastic crayons of Sitka’s 5 and 6 years olds I put aside my preconceived notions of what a seabird is vs how they were being drawn and looked at what was being communicated to me in their art; the ocean. The ocean needs to be healthy. The ocean supports all this life. The ocean can be an exciting place to live. And look, seabirds live in the ocean with their nests and fish and scientists in boats with wild hair…wearing top hats.
Each of these students is growing up in Sitka, one of many coastal communities in Alaska that rely on a healthy ocean to support its economy, livelihoods, culture, and language. And those ties to the ocean come across clearly in their drawings. Those ties to place are why I come back to Sitka to teach kindergarteners about seabirds and why I’m planning out future education visits around Alaska to introduce young people to what a career in science looks like, and consider if it might be a good future fit for them. These visits are a chance for me to share with them how cool their home is and to encourage them to explore and think about and engage with the world around them. And in exchange the kindergartners show me different versions of the world I think I know.
