Learning by teaching

By: Kate Colson, MSc Student, University of British Columbia, Institute for the Oceans and Fisheries, Marine Mammal Research Unit

One of the most frequent questions graduate students get asked (besides when you are going to graduate) is what their plans are after university. For me, the answer has always adamantly been continuing to do research, most likely as a government researcher because I don’t want teaching commitments to take away from my ability to conduct research.

However, one of the most fulfilling parts of my degree at University of British Columbia has actually been teaching four terms of a 100-level undergraduate science course focused on developing first-year students’ critical thinking, data interpretation, and science communication skills. My role in the course has been facilitating active learning activities that exercise these skills and reviewing material the students go over in their pre-class work. Through this course, I have experienced the teaching styles of six different professors and practiced my own teaching. As with any skill, there is always room for improvement, so when I had a chance to read a book titled How Learning Works: Seven Research-Based Principles for Smart Teaching (Ambrose et al. 2010), I took it as an opportunity to further refine my teaching and explore why some practices are more effective than others.

In the book, Ambrose et al. present principles of learning, the research surrounding these principles and examples for incorporating them into a university level course. Some of the principles gave me ideas for strategies to incorporate into my teaching to benefit my students. These described how prior knowledge impacts student learning and how to use goal-oriented practice and give feedback relative to target criteria that the students can apply to the next practice task. For example, I learned to be more conscious about how I explain and clarify course material to make connections with what the students have learned previously, so they can draw on that prior knowledge. Other principles presented by Ambrose et al. were more complex and offered a chance for greater reflection.

Beyond presenting strategies for improving teaching, the book also presented research that supported what I had learned firsthand through teaching. These principles related to the factors that motivate students to learn and why the course climate matters for learning. I have seen how student motivation is impacted by the classroom climate and culture put forth by the teaching team. Perhaps the most frustrating experiences I have had teaching were when one member of the teaching team does not see the importance of fostering a supportive course environment.

For this reason, my favorite assignments have been the Thrive Contract and the Group Contract. Each term, the Thrive Contract is the first major class activity, and the Group Contract is the first group assignment. These assignments serve as a means for everyone to co-create guidelines and expectations and establish a positive classroom culture for the rest of the term. After an exceptionally poor classroom experience my first time teaching, I have highlighted the importance of the Thrive Contract in all subsequent terms. Now, I realize the significance I lent this assignment is supported by the research on the importance for a supportive environment to maximize student motivation and encourage classroom engagement (Figure 1).

Another powerful lesson I have learned through teaching is the importance of clarifying the purpose of an activity to the students. Highlighting a task’s objective is also supported by research to ensure that students ascribe value to the assigned work, increasing their motivation (Figure 1).  In my teaching, I have noticed a trend of lower student participation and poorer performance on assignments when a professor does not emphasize the importance of the task. Reviewing the research that shows the value of a supportive course climate has further strengthened my belief in the importance of ensuring that students understand why their teaching team assigns each activity.

Figure 1. How environment, student efficacy, and value interact to impact motivation. The above figure shows that motivation is optimized when students see the value in a goal, believe they have the skills to achieve the goal, and are undertaking the goal in a supportive class environment (the bright blue box in the bottom right corner). If this situation were to occur in an unsupportive class environment, defiant behaviour (e.g. “I’ll prove you wrong” attitude) is likely to occur in response to the lack of support, as the student sees the value in the goal and believes in their ability to achieve the goal. Rejecting behaviour (e.g., disengagement) occurs when the student does not associate value to a task and does not believe in their ability to complete the goals regardless of the environment.  Evading behaviour (e.g., lack of attention or minimal effort) results when students are confident in their ability to complete a task, but do not see the goal as meaningful in both supportive and unsupportive environment. When a student sees the importance of the goal but are not confident in their ability to complete it, they become hopeless (e.g., have no expectation of success and act helpless) when in an unsupportive environment and fragile (e.g., feign understanding, deny difficulty, or make excuses for poor performance) in a supportive environment.  Diagram adapted from Ambrose et al. (2010) Figure 3.2 incorporating the works of Hansen (1989) & Ford (1992).

Potentially my favorite part about the structure of Ambrose’s book was that it offered me a chance to reflect not only on teaching, but also on my own learning and cognitive growth since I started my master’s degree. Graduate students are often in a unique position in which we are both students and teachers depending on the context of our surroundings. The ability to zoom out and realize how far I have come in not only teaching others, but also in teaching myself, has been humbling. My reflection on my own learning and growth has been driven by learning about how organizing knowledge affects learning, how mastery is developed and how students become self-directed learners.

One of the main differences between novices and experts in how they organize their knowledge is the depth of that knowledge and the connections made between different pieces of information. Research has shown that experts hold more connections between concepts, which allows for faster and easier retrieval of information that translates into ease in applying skills to different tasks (Bradshaw & Anderson, 1982; Reder & Anderson, 1980; Smith, Adams, & Schorr, 1978). Currently in my degree, I am experiencing this ease when it comes to coding my analysis and connecting my research to the broader implications for the field. By making these deeper connections across various contexts, I am building a more complex knowledge structure, thus progressing towards holding a more expert organization of knowledge.

In the stages of mastery concept proposed by Sprague and Stewart (2000), learners progress from unconscious incompetence where the student doesn’t know what they don’t know, to conscious incompetence where they have become aware of what they need to know (Figure 2). This was where I was when I started my master’s — I knew what objectives I wanted to achieve with my research, but I needed to learn the skills necessary for me to be able to collect the data and analyze it to answer my research questions. The next stage of mastery is conscious competence, in which the ability of the learner to function in their domain has greatly increased, but practicing the necessary skills still requires deliberate thinking and conscious actions (Figure 2). This is the level I feel I have progressed to — I am much more comfortable performing the necessary tasks related to my research and talking about how my work fills existing knowledge gaps in the field. However, it still helps to talk out my proposed plans with true masters in the field. The final stage of mastery, unconscious competence, is where the learner has reached a point where they can practice the skills of their field automatically and instinctively such that they are no longer aware of how they enact their knowledge (Figure 2).

Figure 2. Stages of mastery showing how the learner consciousness waxes and then wanes as competence is developed. Unconscious states refer to those where the learner is not aware of what they are doing or what they know, whereas conscious states have awareness of thoughts and actions. Competence refers to the ability of the learner to perform tasks specific to the field they are trying to master. Diagram adapted from Ambrose et al. (2010) Figure 4.2 incorporating the works of Sprague & Stewart (2000).

In line with my progression to higher levels of mastery has come the development of metacognitive skills that have helped me become a better self-directed learner. Metacognition is the process of learning how to learn, requiring the learner to monitor and control their learning through various processes (Figure 3). The most exciting part of my metacognitive growth I have noticed is the greater independence I have in my learning. I am much better at assessing what is needed to complete specific tasks and planning my particular approach to successfully achieve that goal (e.g., the construction of a Hidden Markov model from my last blog). By becoming more aware of my own strengths and weaknesses as a learner, I am better able to prepare and give myself the support needed for completing certain tasks (e.g., reaching out to experts to help with my model construction as I knew this was an area of weakness for me). By becoming more aware of how I am monitoring and controlling my learning, I know I am setting myself up for success as a lifelong learner.

Figure 3. Metacognition requires learner to monitor and control their learning through various processes. These processes involve the learner assessing the necessary skills needed for a task, evaluating their strengths and weaknesses with regards to the assigned task, and planning a way to approach the task. Once a plan has been made, the learner then must apply the strategies involved from the plan and monitor how those strategies are working to accomplish the assigned task. The learner must then be able to decide if the planned approach and applied strategies are effectively accomplishing the assigned task and adjust as needed with a re-assessment of the task that begins the processing cycle over again. Underlying each of these metacognitive processes are the learner’s belief in their own abilities and their perceptions of their intelligence. For example, students who believe their intelligence cannot be improved and do not have a strong sense of efficacy will be less likely to expend effort in metacognitive processes as they believe the extra effort will not influence the results. This contrasts with students who believe their intelligence will increase with skills development and have a strong belief in their abilities, as these learners will see the value in putting in the effort of trying multiple plans and adjusting strategies.  Diagram adapted from Ambrose et al. (2010) Figure 7.1 incorporating the cycle of adaptive learning proposed by Zimmerman (2001).
Loading

References:

Ambrose, S. A., Bridges, M. W., DiPietro, M., Lovett, M. C., & Norman, M. K. (2010). How learning works: Seven research-based principles for smart teaching (1st ed.). San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. 

Bradshaw, G. L., & Anderson, J. R. (1982). Elaborative encoding as an explanation of levels of processing. Journal of Verbal Learning and Verbal behaviours, 21,165-174.

Ford, M. E. (1992). Motivating humans: Goals, emotions and personal agency beliefs. Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications, Inc.

Hansen, D. (1989). Lesson evading and dissembling: Ego strategies in the classroom. American Journal of Education, 97, 184-208.

Reder, L. M., & Anderson, J. R. (1980). A partial resolution of the paradox of interference: The role of integrating knowledge.  Cognitive Psychology, 12,  447-472.

Smith, E. E., Adams, N., & Schorr, D. (1978). Fact retrieval and the paradox of interference. Cognitive Psychology, 10, 438-464.

Sprague, J., & Stewart, D. (2000). The speaker’s handbook. Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt College Publishers.

Zimmerman, B. J. (2001). Theories of self-regulated learning and academic achievement: An overview and analysis. In B. J. Zimmerman & D. H. Schunk (Eds.), Self-regulated learning and academic achievement (2nd ed., pp. 1-38). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.

Over the Ocean and Under the Bridges: STEM Cruise on the R/V Oceanus

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

From September 22nd through 30th, the GEMM Lab participated in a STEM research cruise aboard the R/V Oceanus, Oregon State University’s (OSU) largest research vessel, which served as a fully-functioning, floating, research laboratory and field station. The STEM cruise focused on integrating science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) into hands-on teaching experiences alongside professionals in the marine sciences. The official science crew consisted of high school teachers and students, community college students, and Oregon State University graduate students and professors. As with a usual research cruise, there was ample set-up, data collection, data entry, experimentation, successes, and failures. And because everyone in the science party actively participated in the research process, everyone also experienced these successes, failures, and moments of inspiration.

The science party enjoying the sunset from the aft deck with the Astoria-Megler bridge in the background. (Image source: Alexa Kownacki)

Dr. Leigh Torres, Dr. Rachael Orben, and I were all primarily stationed on flybridge—one deck above the bridge—fully exposed to the elements, at the highest possible location on the ship for best viewing. We scanned the seas in hopes of spotting a blow, a splash, or any sign of a marine mammal or seabird. Beside us, students and teachers donned binoculars and positioned themselves around the mast, with Leigh and I taking a 90-degree swath from the mast—either to starboard or to port. For those who had not been part of marine mammal observations previously, it was a crash course into the peaks and troughs—of both the waves and of the sightings. We emphasized the importance of absence data: knowledge of what is not “there” is equally as important as what is. Fortunately, Leigh chose a course that proved to have surprisingly excellent environmental conditions and amazing sightings. Therefore, we collected a large amount of presence data: data collected when marine mammals or seabirds are present.

High school student, Chris Quashnick Holloway, records a seabird sighting for observer, Dr. Rachael Orben. (Image source: Alexa Kownacki).

When someone sighted a whale that surfaced regularly, we assessed the conditions: the sea state, the animal’s behavior, the wind conditions, etc. If we deemed them as “good to fly”, our licensed drone pilot and Orange Coast Community College student, Jason, prepared his Phantom 4 drone. While he and Leigh set up drone operations, I and the other science team members maintained a visual on the whale and stayed in constant communication with the bridge via radio. When the drone was ready, and the bridge gave the “all clear”, Jason launched his drone from the aft deck. Then, someone tossed an unassuming, meter-long, wood plank overboard—keeping it attached to the ship with a line. This wood board serves as a calibration tool; the drone flies over it at varying heights as determined by its built-in altimeter. Later, we analyze how many pixels one meter occupied at different heights and can thereby determine the body length of the whale from still images by converting pixel length to a metric unit.

High school student, Alishia Keller, uses binoculars to observe a whale, while PhD student, Alexa Kownacki, radios updates on the whale’s location to the bridge and the aft deck. (Image source: Tracy Crews)

Finally, when the drone is calibrated, I radio the most recent location of our animal. For example, “Blow at 9 o’clock, 250 meters away”. Then, the bridge and I constantly adjust the ship’s speed and location. If the whale “flukes” (dives and exposes the ventral side of its tail), and later resurfaced 500 meters away at our 10 o’clock, I might radio to the bridge to, “turn 60 degrees to port and increase speed to 5 knots”. (See the Hidden Math Lesson below). Jason then positions the drone over the whale, adjusting the camera angle as necessary, and recording high-quality video footage for later analysis. The aerial viewpoint provides major advantages. Whales usually expose about 10 percent of their body above the water’s surface. However, with an aerial vantage point, we can see more of the whale and its surroundings. From here, we can observe behaviors that are otherwise obscured (Torres et al. 2018), and record footage that to help quantify body condition (i.e. lengths and girths). Prior to the batteries running low, Jason returns the drone back to the aft deck, the vessel comes to an idle, and Leigh catches the drone. Throughout these operations, those of us on the flybridge photograph flukes for identification and document any behaviors we observe. Later, we match the whale we sighted to the whale that the drone flew over, and then to prior sightings of this same individual—adding information like body condition or the presence of a calf. I like to think of it as whale detective work. Moreover, it is a team effort; everyone has a critical role in the mission. When it’s all said and done, this noninvasive approach provides life history context to the health and behaviors of the animal.

Drone pilot, Jason Miranda, flying his drone using his handheld ground station on the aft deck. (Photo source: Tracy Crews)

Hidden Math Lesson: The location of 10 o’clock and 60 degrees to port refer to the exact same direction. The bow of the ship is our 12 o’clock with the stern at our 6 o’clock; you always orient yourself in this manner when giving directions. The same goes for a compass measurement in degrees when relating the direction to the boat: the bow is 360/0. An angle measure between two consecutive numbers on a clock is: 360 degrees divided by 12-“hour” markers = 30 degrees. Therefore, 10 o’clock was 0 degrees – (2 “hours”)= 0 degrees- (2*30 degrees)= -60 degrees. A negative degree less than 180 refers to the port side (left).

Killer whale traveling northbound.

Our trip was chalked full of science and graced with cooperative weather conditions. There were more highlights than I could list in a single sitting. We towed zooplankton nets under the night sky while eating ice cream bars; we sang together at sunset and watched the atmospheric phenomena: the green flash; we witnessed a humpback lunge-feeding beside the ship’s bow; and we saw a sperm whale traveling across calm seas.

Sperm whale surfacing before a long dive.

On this cruise, our lab focused on the marine mammal observations—which proved excellent during the cruise. In only four days of surveying, we had 43 marine mammal sightings containing 362 individuals representing 9 species (See figure 1). As you can see from figure 2, we traveled over shallow, coastal and deep waters, in both Washington and Oregon before inland to Portland, OR. Because we ventured to areas with different bathymetric and oceanographic conditions, we increased our likelihood of seeing a higher diversity of species than we would if we stayed in a single depth or area.

Humpback whale lunge feeding off the bow.

Number of sightings Total number of individuals
Humpback whale 22 40
Pacific white-sided dolphin 3 249
Northern right whale dolphin 1 9
Killer whale 1 3
Dall’s porpoise 5 49
Sperm whale 1 1
Gray whale 1 1
Harbor seal 1 1
California sea lion 8 9
Total 43 362

Figure 1. Summary table of all species sightings during cruise while the science team observed from the flybridge.

Pacific white-sided dolphins swimming towards the vessel.

Figure 2. Map with inset displaying study area and sightings observed by species during the cruise, made in ArcMap. (Image source: Alexa Kownacki).

Even after two days of STEM outreach events in Portland, we were excited to incorporate more science. For the transit from Portland, OR to Newport, OR, the entire science team consisted two people: me and Jason. But even with poor weather conditions, we still used science to answer questions and help us along our journey—only with different goals than on our main leg. With the help of the marine technician, we set up a camera on the bow of the ship, facing aft to watch the vessel maneuver through the famous Portland bridges.

Video 1. Time-lapse footage of the R/V Oceanus maneuvering the Portland Bridges from a GoPro. Compiled by Alexa Kownacki, assisted by Jason Miranda and Kristin Beem.

Prior to the crossing the Columbia River bar and re-entering the Pacific Ocean, the R/V Oceanus maneuvered up the picturesque Columbia River. We used our geospatial skills to locate our fellow science team member and high school student, Chris, who was located on land. We tracked each other using GPS technology in our cell phones, until the ship got close enough to use natural landmarks as reference points, and finally we could use our binoculars to see Chris shining a light from shore. As the ship powered forward and passed under the famous Astoria-Megler bridge that connects Oregon to Washington, Chris drove over it; he directed us “100 degrees to port”. And, thanks to clear directions, bright visual aids, and spatiotemporal analysis, we managed to find our team member waving from shore. This is only one of many examples that show how in a few days at sea, students utilized new skills, such as marine mammal observational techniques, and honed them for additional applications.

On the bow, Alexa and Jason use binoculars to find Chris–over 4 miles–on the Washington side of the Columbia River. (Image source: Kristin Beem)

Great science is the result of teamwork, passion, and ingenuity. Working alongside students, teachers, and other, more-experienced scientists, provided everyone with opportunities to learn from each other. We created great science because we asked questions, we passed on our knowledge to the next person, and we did so with enthusiasm.

High school students, Jason and Chris, alongside Dr. Leigh Torres, all try to get a glimpse at the zooplankton under Dr. Kim Bernard’s microscope. (Image source: Tracy Crews).

Check out other blog posts written by the science team about the trip here.

Twitterific: The Importance of Social Media in Science

By Alexa Kownacki, Ph.D. Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

How do you create the perfect chemical formula for social media in science? (Photo Source: The Royal Society of Victoria)

There’s a never-ending debate about how active we, as scientists, should be on social media. Which social media platforms are best for communicating our science? When it comes to posting, how much is too much? Should we post a few, critical items that are highly pertinent, or push out everything that’s even closely related to our focus? Personally, my deep-rooted question revolves around privacy. What aspects of my life (and thereby my science), do I keep to myself and what do I share? I asked that exact question at a workshop last year, and I have some main takeaways.

At last year’s Southern California Marine Mammal Workshop, there was a very informative session about the role of media in science. More specifically, there was a talk on “Social Media and Communications Hot Topics” by Susan Poulton, the Chief Digital Officer of the Franklin Institute science museum in Philadelphia.  She emphasized how trust factors into our media connections and networks. What was once communicated in person or on paper, has given way to this idea of virtual connections. We all have our own “bubbles”. Susan defined “bubbles” as the people who we trust. We have different classifications of bubbles: the immediate bubble that consists of our friends, family, and close colleagues, the more distant bubble that has your friends of friends and distant colleagues, and the enigma bubble that has people you find based on computer algorithms that the computer thinks you’ll find relative. Susan brought up the point that many of us stay within our immediate bubble; even though we may discuss all of the groundbreaking science with our friends and coworkers, we never burst that bubble and expand the reaches of our science into the enigma bubble. I frequently fall into this category both intentionally and unintentionally.

Coworkers from NOAA’s Southwest Fisheries Science Center attending the Southern California Marine Mammal Workshop 2017. Pictured from left to right: Alexa, Michelle, Holly, and Keiko. (Photo source: Michelle Robbins.)

Many of us want to be advocates for our science. Education and outreach are crucial for communicating our message. We know this. But, can we keep what little personal life we have outside of science, private? The short of the long of it: No. Alisa Schulman-Janiger, another scientist and educator on the panel, reinforced this when she stated that she keeps a large majority of her social media posts as “public” to reach more people. Queue me being shocked. I have a decent social media presence. I have a private Facebook account, but public Twitter and LinkedIn accounts that I use only for science/academics/professional stuff, public Instagram, YouTube, and Flickr accounts that are travel and science-related, as well as a public blog that is a personal look at my life as a scientist who loves to travel. I tell you this because I am still incredibly skeptical about privacy; I keep my Facebook page about as private as possible without it being hidden. Giving up that last bit of my precious, immediate bubble and making it for the world to see feels invasive. But, I’m motivated to make sure my science reaches people who I don’t know. Giving science a personal story is what captures people; it’s why we read those articles in our Facebook feeds, and click on the interesting articles while scrolling through Twitter. Because of this, I’ve begun making more, not all, of my Facebook posts public. I’m more active on Twitter. I’m writing weekly blog posts again (we’ll see how long I can keep that up for). I’m trying to find the right balance that will keep my immediate bubble still private enough for my peace of mind and public enough that I am presenting my science to networks outside of my own—pushing through to the enigma bubble. Bubbles differ for each of us and we have to find our own balance. By playing to the flexibility of our bubbles, we can expand the horizons of our research.

Alexa at an Education/Outreach event, responding to a young student asking, “Why didn’t you bring this seal when it was alive?” (Photo source: Lori Lowder).

This topic was recently broached while attending my first official GEMM Lab meeting. Leigh brought up social media and how we, as a lab, and as individuals, should make an effort to shine light on all the amazing science that we’re a part of. We, as a lab, are trying to be more present. Therefore, in addition to these AMAZING weekly blog posts varying from highly technical to extremely colloquial, the lab will be posting more on Twitter. And that comes to the origin of this week’s blog post’s title. Leigh said that we should be “Twitterific” and I can’t help but feel that adjective perfectly suits our current pursuit. Here’s to being Twitterific!

With all that being said, be sure to follow us on: Twitter, YouTube, and here (don’t forget to follow us by entering your email address on the lefthand side of the page), of course.

“Evolution”: a board game review

By Florence Sullivan MSc student, Department of Fish and Wildlife.

Another grad student once told me that in order to survive grad school, I would need three things:

(1) an exercise routine, (2) a pet, and (3) a hobby. My Pilates class on Wednesdays is a great mid-week reminder to stretch. I don’t have a pet, so that advice gets fulfilled vicariously through friends. As for my hobby, I think you’ll find that even when scientists take a break from work, we really don’t get that far away from the subject matter…..

Board games have evolved significantly since the early ‘90s when I grew up on such family staples as Monopoly, Risk, Sorry!, Candyland, and Chutes and Ladders, etc. Now, table-top games tend to fall into three loose categories – “Euro-games” that focus on strategy and economic themes as well as keeping all players in the game until the end, “American-style” that tend toward luck and direct player contact so that not everyone plays until the end, and “Party” that are easy to learn and are often played in large groups as social icebreakers or to provide entertainment.

img_20161106_200251024
A few of my favorite games.

As board games proliferate, we see the use of many themes and often, there are valuable educational lessons included in the game design!  There are militaristic or survival games (Betrayal at the House on the Hill, Dead of Winter), economic and engineering (Settlers of Catan, Istanbul, Ticket to ride, Carcassonne), fantasy and art (Small World, Dixit), cooperative vs competitive (Hanabi, Forbidden Desert vs. 7 Wonders), and some of my favorites – the sciences (Compounded, Bioviva, Pandemic).

Today, let’s talk about my current favorite – Evolution. It is immediately obvious that the game designers responsible are either giant nerds (I use this in the most loving way possible) or have spent some quality time with ecologists.  Not only is the art work beautiful, and the game play smooth, but the underlying mechanics allow serious ecological theories such as ‘predator and prey mediated population cycles’, ‘co-evolution’ and ‘evolutionary arms-races’ to be acted out and easily understood.

Players set up their species around the watering hole, and contemplate their next moves.
Players set up their species (1 green/yellow tile = 1 species) around the watering hole, and contemplate their next moves.

In game play, as in life, the point of the game is to eat – victory is achieved by the player who has managed to ‘digest’ the most food tokens. All players begin with a single species, and with each turn, can either add traits (ie. fat tissue, scavenger, etc.) to the species, increase the body size of a species, gain a population level, or gain additional species.  Next, players take food from a limited, random supply until there is no food left. Species that have not been fed to their full capacity (population levels) will starve, and can even become extinct – much like the reality of environmental cycles.  Finally, all food that has been ‘eaten’ is digested, and the next round begins.

Since a player can never be sure how much food will appear on the watering hole each turn, it is a good strategy to capitalize on traits like foraging which allows a species to take twice as much food every time it feeds.  If your species cooperates with another, that means that it gets to eat every time you feed the first species. A player who combines foraging traits with multiple cooperating species in a “cooperation chain” can quickly empty the watering hole before any other players get a chance.  Much like a species perfectly adapted to its niche in the real world will out compete more generalist species.

img_20161106_195009550
The pack-hunting carnivore on the left can easily take down the fertile defensive herding species in the upper right. The efficient foraging species in the middle is protected by its horns, and cooperates with the next species to the right. The burrowing species is protected from carnivores only as long as it is full (and presumably no longer needs to venture out of its burrow).

One way to avoid the competition for food at the watering hole is to play the carnivore trait.  This species must now consume other species in order to feed itself.  A few caveats; a carnivore must be larger in body size than anything it tries to eat, and can no longer eat plant food as it is an obligate carnivore. As soon as a carnivore appears on the board, the evolutionary arms-race begins in earnest!  Traits such as burrowing, climbing, hard shells, horns, defensive herding and warning calls become vital to survival.  But carnivores can be clever, and apply ambush to species with warning call, or pack-hunting to a species with defensive herding.  In everything, there is a certain balance, and quickly, players will find themselves acting out a classic ‘boom and bust population growth cycle’ scenario, where herbivores go extinct due to low food supply at the watering hole and/or high predation pressure, and carnivores soon follow when there are no un-protected species for them to feed upon.

img_20161106_195518519
A flying creature must first pay the ‘upkeep cost’ of its body size in food, before it can feed its population. Good thing it has the extra cliff-side food source that is only accessible to other species with wings!

An expansion has been released for the game – it is called Flight – and introduces traits such as flight, camouflage, good eyesight, and others.  From an ecologist’s perspective, it fits the original game well both scientifically and thematically.  To achieve flight, a higher price must be paid (in terms of cards discarded) to gain the trait card, and unlike other species, an ‘upkeep cost’ must be gathered in food tokens before the species actually eats any food tokens during the round.  However, flight also gives access to a cliff-side watering hole that is not accessible to earthbound species. This neatly mirrors the real world where flight is an energetically costly activity that also opens new niches.

The next expansion is just arriving in stores, and I can’t wait to play it! It’s called Climate, and adds traits such as nocturnal, claws, and insectivore. Perhaps more exciting though, are the ‘event cards’ which will trigger things like desertification, cold snaps, heatwaves, volcanic eruptions and meteor strikes. A climate tracker will keep track of whether the planet is in an ice age or a warming period, and certain traits will make your species more or less likely to survive – can you guess which ones might be useful in either scenario? I think it will be enormously fun to play through different climate scenarios and see how traits stack and species interactions evolve.  Perhaps this new addition to the game will even cause a new game review in Nature – check out their initial assessment here: http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v528/n7581/full/528192a.html

Games like evolution are useful thought exercises for students and researchers because they promote discussion of adaptive traits, predator-prey cycles, climate, and ecosystem dynamics as related to our own projects. Watching a story unfold in front of you is a great way to truly understand some of the core principles of ecology (and other subjects). This is especially relevant in the GEMM lab where we continuously ask ourselves why our study species act the way they do? How do they find prey, and how are/will they adapt(ing) to our changing climate?

Outreach and education: sharing the stoke

By Erin Pickett

My friend Matt and I chased after a butterfly waving our nets through the air, jumping and swatting at the trees. For a brief moment I considered how ridiculous I probably looked running around in circles, looking up at the sky and not at my feet or where I was going. I was just about to step on a wasp nest before I came to my senses. The butterfly got away as I looked up to see our group of middle school students walking back to us after finishing their snack break.

It was day three of “Ecosystem sleuths” summer camp, and while Matt and I were helping lead this camp, we were certainly not going to let that stop us from having some good old fashioned fun catching bugs.

Last week my fellow fisheries and wildlife grad students and I walked away from our computers and experiments and took a break from thesis writing and summer field work to spend the week with a group of local middle and high school students. We ran a weeklong ecology-themed summer camp sponsored by Oregon State’s STEM Academy and inspired by our desire to share what we love with young students who are interested in science. This is what I call “sharing the stoke”.

We hoped to teach our students about a few broad and important ecological concepts while introducing them to field methods and sampling techniques. Neither the Corvallis city limits nor IACUC could hold us back and we managed to bring a menagerie of animals into the classroom including polar bears, elk and sharks. We have OSU’s extensive research and teaching collections to thank for giving our students a chance to handle some cool skulls, pelts and other preserved specimens.

One afternoon I led the students in crafting homemade humpback whale flukes, so that we could practice re-sighting them and estimating population sizes using the mark-recapture method. In between lectures and lab activities, with the help of YouTube, we watched two male elephant seals fight for dominance on a northern California beach and got a birds-eye view of a bald eagle soaring through a canyon. One student couldn’t help but jump up and down while watching this video. At the end of the week took the students to Hesthavn Nature Center and spent two afternoons outside collecting terrestrial and aquatic invertebrates, identifying birds, and learning how to pin insects.

After our students left each afternoon we’d all sit down to discuss the next day’s plan. Exhausted, we’d finish the last of the juice boxes and granola bars and wonder how teachers do what they do. Hats off to you, teachers!