My Ulterior Motives

I enjoy long showers, although I try to be a little more conscious about wasting water compared to my teenage years when my father used to ask my mother if I was washing each hair individually. When I take a shower on a sunny day, if I am lucky, the light will hit the glass shower door just right to create perfect rainbows on the wall and the floor. They are very geometrical and crisp and they bring me joy. 

A shower rainbow

The shower door is beveled and creates a prism that separates the visible white light into the wavelengths we know as colors. No matter how many times I see this ROYGBIV display, I feel joy. I sometimes start to think about what the world would look like if our retinas had photoreceptors for infrared or ultraviolet light. Sometimes I think about the molecule known as chlorophyll and how its electrons get excited if the right wavelength hits it (that's the basis of life on Earth by the way--no chlorophyll means no oxygen and no food). And sometimes I don't think anything other than, "Gosh, that sure is pretty."

When I was pursuing my MAT in Biological Sciences at Montclair State University, I was asked to write a paper describing my philosophy of teaching. I don't know where that paper is anymore because I've been through a few computers since then but I do distinctly remember saying that I saw myself as a tour guide to the natural world. I feel comfortable saying that not much has changed when considering my teaching philosophy. Of course I want my students to learn the fundamentals of biology and receive high scores on the AP exam. I also want them to develop the skills to succeed in college. But I have ulterior motives. I hope that my class will help students feel joy as they venture out into the world. I also hope the content they learn in my class might be able to offer them comfort, too. I can think of dozens upon dozens of times that the natural world has brought me both joy and solace and I'm going to share a few with you.

A few years ago, I was sitting on the front porch on a warm early summer evening. The fireflies (or lightning bugs depending on where you live) were flashing and I noticed a couple of fireflies in the flowers in a bed right next to me. I watched them flash at each other and then they did pretty much what every adult firefly exists to do--mate. The chemical reaction in the fireflies' light organs that creates the bioluminescence of summer nights is fascinating. The specifics of the flash patterns are also fascinating. The fact that the enzyme luciferase, which allows a firefly to glow, is routinely used in molecular biology labs is fascinating, too. Fireflies are, indeed, fascinating all around!

Calvin & Hobbes: One of my husband's favorite comics. How cool would it be if we could bioluminescence? 

A firefly creates light with almost 100% efficiency.

Although I enjoy insect watching, it's birds that bring me the most joy. Can you think of a type of wildlife that we can so easily observe even from the comforts of our own home? Birds for the win. We have a bird feeder right across from our kitchen window. When I am washing dishes, I often stare out the window at the birds. One day in the early summer I saw an adult female cardinal feeding a bird that most definitely was not a cardinal. The bird she was feeding was almost as large as she was and looked nothing like her--it was a ridiculous display. I watched for a while and marveled at the Brown-headed cowbird species, which are North America's most common brood parasites. The female cowbird doesn't build a nest and instead lays its eggs in other species' nest. So crafty! So devious! The cowbird doesn't need to expend the energy raising its young to pass on its genes. Evolution produces some pretty creative and entertaining adaptations.

A Wilson's Warbler raising a young (but larger) cowbird chick. Photo from Beth Hamel

I am not a winter person--I crave photons, warmth and green during the winter months. One thing, though, that has brought me joy during this often dismal season are winter ducks. They are badasses. We need to see beyond mallards, which are lovely, but not badasses. Winter ducks such as surf scoters are seemingly impervious to the frigid and rough winter ocean. When a wave is about to break on them, they deftly dive under water. I have not seen a surf scoter up close but I have seen other winter ducks up close and personal. If you venture out to the Barnegat Bay in winter, you may see Harlequin ducks--they are tough but also fancy. I took the picture below years ago, while I was still in grad school working towards my MAT.

The Harlequin Ducks of Barnegat

Our region is these ducks' Florida. During the winter, looking out my kitchen window at the winter birds (I'm talking about you, juncos!) and looking out at the gray ocean at the tough-as-nails ducks brings me a sense of well-being and comfort. There these birds are year after year without fail just doing their thing. No matter what atrocities are going on in the world, the winter birds still come. And there is the sense of solace. I enjoy these living but non-human beings precisely because they are not human. We share an ecosystem with these animals and yes we are connected, which can tragically be very detrimental for them. But, when I look at these animals, I am focusing outward and not inward on my own struggles. And I am grateful for that.

It's not just animals that bring me joy and comfort. How could I not talk about plants? I do everything I can to reduce what some call "plant blindness" in my students. We grow all year long and there is not a summer that goes by that I don't enjoy my moonflowers grown from seeds in my classroom. If you peruse this blog, you will find many posts from students about plants, specifically plants right outside the school classrooms. I may be biased but I think it's some good reading.

A perfect marriage of plant + bird that brought me joy is the cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis) and Ruby-throated hummingbird. A couple of summers ago, I planted a cardinal flower in my front yard specifically for the purpose of attracting hummingbirds. I was excited because the flower was blooming but I was lamenting to my mom on the phone that I had not seen any hummingbirds yet. Just as I said those words, I looked out the window and what did I see but a Ruby-throated hummingbird hovering around the flower drinking its nectar. It was a magical moment more magical than any moments I had at Walt Disney World as a child. This bird-plant relationship is even more special the more you know about it. The cardinal flower doesn't expend the energy making its sugary nectar for altruistic reasons--it gets something in return: pollination. The hummingbird's long, thin beak is nicely adapted to gather the nectar from the tubular flowers and the flowers are structurally adapted to deposit pollen in the hummingbird's head. As the bird systematically drinks from the flowers, it's carrying out cardinal flower cross-pollination. Another instance where the brilliance of evolution leaves me with a sense of wonder and satisfaction.

Notice the cardinal flower's stamen gently depositing pollen on the hummingbird's head. Photo credit: Mary Ann Borge https://the-natural-web.org/

AP Biology is a demanding but rewarding course and it's not an easy one to teach. But I still think of myself as a tour guide. I show them what I love about the natural world. I hope they view the world a bit differently come June. I sometimes gaze out at my students and recall how it feels to be young like them--their world is full of excitement, hope, and potential. I am sure that they will have interesting jobs, see the world, fall in love, make a life for themselves. But we all know life serves up heartbreak, disappointment and pain, too, which they will not be able to avoid. My students always give me hope and make me laugh. My hope is that something--anything--they learned in my classroom has brought them joy and will continue to bring them joy in the future. I also hope that they will feel a sense of comfort and solace as they look outward at this beautiful Earth that we are lucky enough to call home. As far as ulterior motives for teaching go, I'm not losing any sleep over mine.

If there are any seniors that actually took the time to read this post, congratulations on graduating!