“The natural historian is not a fisherman who prays for cloudy days and good luck merely; but as fishing has been styled “a contemplative man’s recreation,” introducing him profitably to woods and water, so the fruit of the naturalist’s observations is not in new genera or species, but in new contemplations still, and science is only a more contemplative man’s recreation.”
--David Henry Thoreau

Christina Pince Biology Grad Student

I can remember being so fascinated by nature as a child. I would beg and plead with my mother to allow me to play outside as long as possible. I loved hiking and exploring the greenbelt behind my house. My sisters and I would catch bugs and examine them at length under magnifying glasses (frequently to the unfortunate demise of our study subjects). I was interested in everything….birds, bugs, snakes, frogs, fish, plants, you name it - I wanted to know more about it. I fantasized about bounding with the kangaroos in Australia or soaring over mountains with the hawks. I wanted to see things from a katydid’s perspective, and know all the things the great Douglas firs had seen.

But somewhere between 3rd grade and grad school I found my love of learning science diminished. It wasn’t until one afternoon when I was sitting in my office with my fellow grad student, Suzie Graham, lamenting over the latest snore-inducing seminar, that I realized what was missing.

She asked me an important question: “What was it that hooked you on science?”

Great White Shark, Carcharodon carcharias.

Her hook was sharks, an obsession that began with the movie “Jaws.” My hook was the human-like gorillas I saw as a child and then later, the desert cycad Welwitschia, in southern Africa (I love how it looks like a pair of deranged bunny ears). We realized that everyone has a hook, and at some point, everyone in biology was completely floored by something in nature that inspired him or her to make a career of studying science. Suzie and I immediately recognized what was lacking from our studies...a sense of excitement and discovery. We wanted to be wowed again - to feel that spark of fascination again.

This is how the natural history club was born. Suzie and I wanted a seminar that would be fun, interesting, and welcoming to all. The idea was simple; anyone can talk about an organism or ecosystem of their choice, preparatory reading should not be necessary, and presentations should be geared toward a general audience. Our goal was to create a seminar that anyone could sit in and learn some interesting facts about the natural world. We reserved a room and sent out a Biology department e-mail. We were pretty well convinced that only a few other grad students would show up, so we were pleasantly surprised at our first meeting to find the room packed with faculty members! Clearly we had tapped into a topic that was needed in our department. I think many people in our department had wanted to see natural history come back as a topic of discussion, and this was the opportunity.

Welwitschia mirabilis.

We invited speakers from all over campus; anyone that did anything we thought was interesting we invited to speak. By our third meeting, attendance had skyrocketed to well over 30 and we had outgrown our room. We were overwhelmed with requests to present. We received mounds of positive feedback from students and faculty, mostly about how much fun the seminar was to attend. What started as a club and discussion group quickly turned into Biology 590, a seminar class that students can take for 1 credit, sponsored by Dr. Joshua Tewksbury. The goal remained to learn about natural history in a fun and relaxed environment. Our seminar topics have included army ants, falconry, invasive species, kangaroo mice, the Kalahari Desert, wild chilies, and even a rousing discussion on the need for more studies in natural history.

I find it alarming that so much of current scientific research is so far removed from the natural world.

We sequence genomes and deduce complex signal cascades but all too frequently we provide nothing but lip service to the organisms in which these processes work. In some organisms we know more about the molecular workings than we do about the basic natural history. Natural history research has been increasingly devalued in the scientific community, categorized as “descriptive” and frequently denied funding. But in truth, natural history is the backbone of Biology. Without going outside and observing natural phenomena we can’t generate new questions or find new systems to work in. We need natural history to ground our lab work in reality. Indeed, the entire field of conservation would be absolutely lost without natural history. We need that connection to nature if we are to do meaningful research and to inspire our students to follow in our footsteps. The snores in Introductory Biology classes always tend to stop when the lecture turns to real examples.

The success of this seminar series gives me great hope. It has reignited my love of science and my desire to learn. It is without a doubt the best part of my week. The amazing outpouring of support for the Natural History Seminar tells me that natural history is still interesting and important to everyone from undergraduates to emeritus faculty. Natural history is alive in academia and with even the tiniest bit of nurturing, can quickly bloom beautifully.

UW Natural History Seminars:
http://courses.washington.edu/nathist/
Photographs for this article from C. Pince.