By Renee Miller
From ASTC Dimensions, September/October 2007

In November and December 2005, Randi Korn & Associates Inc. (RK&A) conducted a front-end study for the Volunteers TryScience (VolTS) project (see sidebar at end). The evaluators conducted and analyzed 26 in-depth telephone interviews with members of three groups:
• scientists and engineers who volunteer in educational programs outside of science centers
• scientists and engineers who currently volunteer in science centers
• science center staff who work with volunteers.

The volunteers came from both academic and corporate backgrounds; some were retired from full-time employment. Discussion groups were also held with science and engineering professionals who attended a 2006 IEEE conference; these findings, though not presented officially in the RK&A report, did inform the analysis and recommendations.

This article is based primarily on the interviews done with the volunteers and staff who work in science centers. Museums were picked by location, size, and range of volunteer opportunities they offer. The kinds of collaborations represented ranged from advisory panels to one-time lectures to exhibition development. From the observations and recommendations in these interviews emerges a summary portrait of the characteristics that make for a healthy partnership.

Attitudes and motivation

Why would busy scientists and engineers take time out to share their expertise with science center audiences? Most volunteers we interviewed had only positive things to say about informal science education. They praised the inquiry approach of science centers and their outreach to general audiences:
“The value is in the hands-on nature….”
“Science centers do a good job of just giving people access.”
“I know that they have a commitment to the community, so I was happy to get involved when they asked.”

Volunteers expressed a desire to “give back” to the community, but they also saw their role in the museum in specific terms. Some had come to the museum to share their expertise in a certain area of science:
“They asked me to be the champion for that volunteer activity.”
“My role was basically in an advisory capacity, for the science end of things.”

Others saw an opportunity to educate the public about what scientists do:
“I think people think of engineers and scientists as boring; the science center helps the public interact with people doing the jobs.”
“It is all about networking; You’re meeting people and getting to talk about your passion.”

Even for those who, like one NSF-funded researcher, came because their particular project required community outreach, the social element was an important factor:
“Otherwise, I don’t have the opportunity to talk to people about my work outside of work.”
“It made me realize how good it was for me, from a job perspective, to talk to the people you’re trying to serve.”

Interviews with volunteer coordinators revealed that they value equally the role that these expert volunteers play in the science center. “They are able to make real-life science connections,” said one staff member. Said another, “It is extremely important to … show that we are in contact with people doing real work, real research, right now.” In general, museum staff value in their scientist/engineer volunteers what one coordinator called their “instinctively higher regard for and understanding of science and the science process.”

Recruitment

Scientists often have difficulty finding volunteer opportunities aligned with their interests and expertise, tending to rely on word-of-mouth or personal connections. Some suggested that recruiting efforts should come from the top, be explicitly supported by the top, and be addressed to the top:
“You have to have people on the same level talking.”
“Let them meet and talk with the director. Let them know that they’re being invited to be part of a collaborative team.”

Others recommended going through existing channels, such as corporations, graduate-degree programs, or professional societies:
“You’ve got to get people to start volunteering by the time they’re grad students. Make it part of their education.”
“Go speak to the engineering society meetings. African-American graduate fraternities and sororities are typically active in large cities.”

Almost all of the scientists/engineers we interviewed are employed either full- or part-time. With little time to spare, they value clarity about their role in the science center:
“How many hours, what are my interactions, what am I going to get, what do you need from me? Scientists love it if you spell it out…. Then they can actually use it in the grant-writing process, in their annual reports.”
“I need to know exactly what’s expected of me. If [the museum representative] can say, ‘This is the commitment I want; this is your role,’ then the scientist can say, ‘I can do this’ or ‘No, I can’t.’”

Volunteer coordinators identified as major recruiting challenges a lack of funding (“Publicity and marketing … is staff-intensive work.”) and turnover in personnel at partnering companies and universities (“I may have a contact from one year who may not be the same person the next year”).

Like scientists, museum staff saw partnerships with graduate students and postdocs as a promising direction: “There is some leverage that could be gained from giving young scientists in training more interest and skills in communicating more broadly…. We would be moving toward the larger goal of having a more science-literate society.”

Training

Interviews with scientists and engineers revealed a general level of resistance to formal training by museum staff and a lack of interest in direct interaction with museum visitors:
“First of all, [we] don’t believe in training. Scientists have never heard the words ‘professional development.’ Personally as a scientist, I don’t know what that means.”
“Being a scientist, I wanted to just deal with the science…. There was just so much other stuff that went along with it. I wanted to help them deal with the science, interpret the science—nothing more, nothing less.”

Museum staff are aware of these attitudes. “Certain scientists and engineers are great with people,” said one coordinator, “and certain ones are not. What we take advantage of is their interest level … and desire to share knowledge.” Another acknowledged that “there is a perception that we cannot ask them to commit to many hours of training.”
Some scientists admitted they need help in approaching new audiences. “It’s easy to … make assumptions that are invalid simply because you’re not used to speaking to such an audience,” one confessed. “That’s a challenge the museum can help you meet.” But instead of classroom-based training, several suggested a partnering relationship, in which the volunteer would contribute knowledge and passion about content, and the staff person would contribute knowledge about museum practice.

This idea makes sense to museum personnel, too. Some favor “face-to-face” training for scientists and staff on how to collaborate successfully; one wished for an online “repository of great exhibits … or case studies [to show] potential volunteers about successful experiences.” Unlike the volunteers, some staff members expressed a desire for related professional development, particularly in keeping up with science research and best practices.

As with recruiting, finding the time and resources to manage volunteers is a challenge for museum staff, “not so much because of the volunteers but because of the work load and how thin we are spread right now.” As one coordinator said, “Staff do not necessarily have the time to get to know them [the scientists] the way we do with our regular volunteers.”

Nurturing the relationship

Most of the collaborations involving study participants were time-limited. Short-term projects appeal to volunteer scientists because they are manageable and to coordinators because they provide a positive initial exposure to museum culture.

But even more rewarding, some said, are relationships that are sustained and long-term—the kind that become, as one coordinator put it, “necessary to daily operations.” To achieve that goal, mutual understanding and respect are essential. “There are some cultural barriers between museums and scientists, but I think these can be breached,” said a volunteer. “You have to know how to interact with each other.”

One thing on which most agree is the importance of recognition, regardless of the scope of the activity. One scientist said, “It’s the little things that let people know they’re valued…. Once an exhibit is up, bring us in and show it to us. Put our names on a plaque. It’s just a nice gesture.” Another stressed the significance of feedback: “It’s important to have some sense of accomplishment, some evidence….
I’m a scientist. [We like] to know that what we’re doing with our free time matters.”

For staff, appreciation consists not only in providing appropriately challenging work and recognition, but also in demonstrating a commitment to ongoing relationship. “Our volunteer program has a full-time manager, a volunteer association, formal events … all signifying that [they] are a serious business to us,” said one coordinator. “The most important thing for me,” said another, “is to … get buy-in from the volunteer. It is important that the volunteer see what the science center is doing, and what its purpose is, to give them that ownership.”

Formerly a senior research associate at Randi Korn & Associates Inc., Alexandria, Virginia, Renee Miller recently accepted a position as an elementary and middle school science teacher at the Langley School, McLean, Virginia.
Volunteers TryScience: A Fresh Look at a Longstanding Relationship

Scientists and engineers have participated actively in science centers for decades. But many of these partnerships have occurred in isolation, with little chance for others to learn from their example. Even within a given organization, there may be roadblocks to learning from experiences with content experts.

VolunteersTry Science (VolTS) is a partnership among the New York Hall of Science, IBM, ASTC, the Institute of Electrical Engineers (IEEE), and the National Science Digital Library (NSDL) that seeks to facilitate more involvement of scientist and engineer volunteers with informal science education institutions through better communication, training, and resources. Funded in 2005 by the Institute for Museum and Library Services, VolTS represents an opportunity to share stories of exemplary accomplishments and ongoing projects and to initiate a broader conversation, from the perspective of both sides, about effective ways to manage those relationships.

For more details, or to participate in VolTS, contact Eric Marshall, emarshall@nyscience.org.

July/August 2007
IN THIS ISSUE

Researchers who study the human brain and nervous system continue to find connections between environmental sound (both ambient and organized) and behavioral and emotional response. Anthropologists and neuroscientists alike tell us that music has been and remains critical to the development and survival of our species. It seems that people are hard-wired to respond to the quality of sound around us. Yet the auditory environments of science centers do not always reflect that understanding. The July/August 2007 issue of ASTC Dimensions draws on research into acoustics, the brain, and learning, as well as current museum practice, to explore the effect of sound on human experience—with implications for the design of both exhibits and the larger museum environment.

CONTENTS

• Wild Music: Making the Most of Sound in an Exhibition, by Wendy Pollock and J. Shipley Newlin
• Sound Advice: Acoustic Considerations for Exhibit Design, by Andrea Weatherhead
• Designed for Attentive Listening: Dealing with a Challenging Environment, by Eric Dimond
• Wired for Music: The Science of Human Musicality, by Donald A. Hodges
• Composing an Exhibition, by Philip Blackburn
• Heureka’s Music: Sound with a Sociocultural Perspective, by Mikko Myllykoski
• Science Sonatas: Listening to Data, by Stephen Pompea
• Sound Resources

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By Wendy Pollock and J. Shipley Newlin

Sound in an exhibition? Most of the time, exhibition planners think of sound as something to be dampened, controlled, or contained. The very term “sound bleed” suggests exhibits battling for attention in an atmosphere of cacophony.

In planning Wild Music: Sounds & Songs of Life, the exhibition team—an unusual partnership among ASTC, the Science Museum of Minnesota (SMM), and the Music Research Institute at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro—decided to approach sound from an alternative perspective. We would treat it as an element to be tuned and composed, as well as an opportunity to enrich the experience for visitors who are blind or have low vision. Funding from the National Science Foundation, Harman International, and NEC Foundation of America ensured that the team was well positioned for this task.

We also were encouraged by what we were learning from our science advisors who study natural sounds as “soundscapes” (the acoustical equivalents of biomes), not just birdsong extracted from its context or a frog’s call minus its chorusing kin. Why not regard the exhibition in a similar spirit, with an overall and positive approach to acoustics paralleling traditional approaches to visual and spatial design?

Of the many people who provided advice and expertise to guide us on this path, two were especially important in our experiments with sound: Walter Waranka, an access advisor we invited to serve on the exhibition planning team, and Philip Blackburn, the musician who ultimately composed the exhibition’s overall soundscape.

Strategies for interpreting sound

An employment consultant and president of the Minnesota chapter of the American Council of the Blind, Wally Waranka had participated in an ASTC Accessible Museum Practices workshop in 2002. His regular attendance at Wild Music planning sessions helped maintain a focus on the experiences of people with disabilities.

Waranka could see the potential of the subject for people who are blind, as he is. Whale song, bird and insect calls, human music, the physics of sound—all are part of the study of the biological origins of music. There would be plenty to listen to. But assuming we could achieve high-quality sound, how could we ensure that the sounds would make sense to those who can’t read signs? And what experiences could be meaningful for people who are deaf or hard of hearing?

With Waranka’s advice, the developers devised an array of strategies for
interpreting sounds. These included
• Braille and acoustic labels. Standardized locations make these easy to locate.
• Tactile relief models. In one exhibit, for example, whale models are associated with buttons that activate different species’ songs.
• Tactile diagrams. In an exhibit about animal vocalization, visitors can select a tactile sonogram of a bird, mammal, or insect song and insert it into a slot, activating an audio recording. In an exhibit about the human voice (see above), tactile diagrams illustrate the shapes of anatomical airways and working mechanical analogs.
• Experiences of sound as vibration. A spectrum analyzer that works through vibrating metal reeds allows visitors to both feel and see that single sounds are often composed of several frequencies. In the exhibition’s small theater, “bass shaker” speakers bolted under the seats let visitors feel low-frequency parts of the soundtrack, while limiting the spread of these hard-to-contain sounds into the rest of the exhibit space.
• Visual representations of sound. In a working model of a larynx, a fan blows low-pressure air through rubber flaps. By pulling on a control knob, visitors can stretch the flaps and bring them together, producing a sound that varies in pitch with the tension applied. Strobe LEDs help visitors see how vibrations make the sounds they hear—or to see sounds they can’t hear.

After constructing a series of prototypes with Waranka’s advice, we tested them with other consultants who had developed exhibits with people who are deaf and hard of hearing. We also tested prototypes during a session focused entirely on accessible design. This was attended by members of several Twin Cities groups that represent people who have personal and professional experience with disabilities.

Containing and controlling sound

In addition to making individual sound experiences intelligible to a wider range of users, we were committed to creating an overall sound environment that was meaningful and harmonious. With 32 interactive exhibits in a 4,000-square foot space, this required a variety of sound-containment strategies.

From among the more familiar, we adapted several that were best suited to the exhibition’s intent:
• Headphones. Although headphones have drawbacks, our musical consultants persuaded us that there was no way to achieve enough high-quality sound experiences without them. We were encouraged by the example of Seattle’s Experience Music Project, which makes extensive use of headphones. We chose lightweight AKG headphones and, to counter the potentially isolating effect, provided them for the most part in pairs.
• Near-field speakers. We mounted high-quality speakers at about ear height for an adult seated on a stool, and provided start buttons and volume controls to reduce unnecessary sounds when an exhibit is not in use.
• Enclosures. We constructed three types of enclosures: a professional music practice room; open, roofless carrels with nonparallel, insulation-filled walls to reduce internal reflection and sound bleed; and a theater that uses hanging baffles with other acoustic elements.

A positive experience for all

It was important to the Wild Music team that an exhibition about the deep roots and universality of music be broadly accessible and offer a rich and positive sonic experience. Not content with containing, controlling, and interpreting a collection of sounds, we decided to approach the entire exhibition as a soundscape—or, more exactly, three interconnected soundscapes.

Because the songs of birds, whales, and people are key strands in the biology of music, we organized much of the exhibition into thematic areas we called the Edge of the Forest, the Town, and the Ocean Deeps. Each is anchored by a schematic “set” and distinguished by a composition by environmental sound artist Philip Blackburn. The compositions create an acoustic niche both for exhibits that can be heard at a distance (such as a giant wooden xylophone) and for visitors’ conversations.

These themes were extended in a teacher workshop and public programs held when Wild Music opened. Whale expert Roger Payne, one of the project advisors, spoke about his research and played recordings of whale songs; we had to rent speakers capable of transmitting the vibrations of their deep bass notes throughout the museum. A local gamelan performed bird-related Indonesian compositions, and SMM’s teen volunteers shared pocket science demos with visitors.

Work in progress

Wild Music opened at SMM in March 2007. As it moves to the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences in June, we are just beginning to explore the possibilities for reaching new audiences through its rich sound experiences and themes. Evaluation suggests some fine-tuning that will help improve the visitor experience, but in general the response has been overwhelmingly positive. Visitors are telling interviewers that they appreciate the tactile experiences and the presence of Braille and acoustic labels, even though most haven’t used them themselves.

Wally Waranka reports that this is the first exhibition he feels he can navigate and enjoy almost entirely on his own. In fact, he has brought his colleagues in the employment agency to visit, hoping to inspire their approach to workplace accommodations.

From the July/August 2007 issue of ASTC Dimensions.

Wendy Pollock is ASTC’s Director of research, publications, and exhibitions. J. Shipley Newlin is program director for physical sciences at the Science Museum of Minnesota, St. Paul.

More about Wild Music and the exhibition tour

May/June 2007
IN THIS ISSUE

ASTC Dimensions last took an in-depth look at teacher education programs in science centers and museums in 2002. Since then, the No Child Left Behind legislation has altered the formal education landscape in the United States, and formal-informal collaborations have changed elsewhere as well. We asked museum educators to tell us how their professional development programs for teachers have changed and how science centers are maintaining the commitment to inquiry-based education in the face of the new expectations from public funders. This issues represents a sampling of their responses.

CONTENTS

• When Schools Meet Museums: Finding a Third Way, by Bronwyn Bevan
• Leave No Teacher Behind, by Linda Shore
• Partners for a New Era: The Challenge of the NCLB Funding, by Coleen Pelak
• Building Teacher Leaders: The Da Vinci Fellows Program, by Dave Smith and Tara Broczkowski
• What Teachers Told Us: Implementing Inquiry Learning for Schools, by Mary Ann Wojton
• Experience, Confidence, and Tools: The Grounding in Botany Program, by Martha Kirouac
• Field Trips for Teachers, by Christine Lewis
• Promoting Technology Literacy in Schools: A Museum of Science Initiative, by Cary Sneider
• Leveraging Training through Networks, by Eva Jonsson
• Learning Before 4: Science for Early Childhood Educators, by Cindy Detuelo
• Looking Beyond NCLB: Alternative Audiences for Teacher Education, by Pete Yancone
• Supporting Xciters: A PENCIL Project Program, Sheena Laursen

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By Bronwyn Bevan

Let’s assume that you, the reader, already believe that informal science institutions (ISIs) can be powerful centers of science learning expertise, resources, and experience in their communities. You know that visitors to science museums, zoos, aquariums, and the like can see, touch, explore, and imagine aspects of the natural world that often remain invisible, unnoticed, or inaccessible in people’s everyday lives. You know that ISIs draw on their spatial, temporal, textural, and material qualities to build a visitor’s sense of the connectedness, historicity, relevance, and salience of science, in ways that many other learning settings cannot.

Visitors often say to ISI staff: Why wasn’t science taught like this in school? That makes us nod and smile, or maybe shrug and smile. We informal educators have often been drawn to work in informal settings precisely because of these unique qualities—because of distinctions between the way science is taught and experienced in schools and the way we believe it is experienced in the real world.

That’s fine. But there is something else we know: ISIs, as places, as pedagogies, and as resources, are not accessed equitably. For the most part, our audiences are white, middle class, and college educated—populations that already actively seek and secure the resources they need to further their own learning and to create more seamless developmental environments for their children.

Many ISIs undertake special efforts and programs to expand their reach to new audiences, especially to community groups that have been historically underrepresented in the sciences. But by almost any measure, these efforts seem to have little overall impact on the demographics of our institutions’ regular visiting audiences, much less on expanding participation in science fields and studies.

Natural and best partners

At the Center for Informal Learning and Schools (CILS), we believe that ISIs can contribute significantly to strengthening and diversifying participation in science. And we believe that schools are the natural, and perhaps the best, partners for any serious ISI efforts in this regard.

Schools are the key democratic institution in every community, working across all socioeconomic lines. While ISIs bring to the table ways of making science accessible, collaborative, tangible, and joyful, schools bring to the table ways of conceptualizing science as a coherent and systematic set of practices and ideas. Museums and schools need each other—and our colleagues in afterschool programs—to create the coherent learning environment essential for initiating and sustaining engagement with science.(1)

CILS sees the key constituency of classroom teachers as the linchpin for such collaborations. Teachers have much to teach us about our communities, about our children, and about being accountable for teaching practices. At the same time, ISIs have much to offer teachers, notably (a) strategies and resources for engaging and sustaining student interest in science and (b) science-rich professional communities that can nourish and sustain teachers themselves. Working together, informal and formal educators can expand their repertoires of practice so that science learning, across multiple settings, becomes more engaging and coherent for more children.

It is past time to move beyond the either/or proposition that seems to dog the ISI discourse about working with schools, or about ISIs’ role in expanding participation in science. There is a “third way” to be found in thoughtful collaborations between informal science institutions and schools. So what do such collaborations look like?