By Desireé R. Melonas Our second summer workshop took place July 28 & 29, on the campus of Spring Hill College, located in the Spring Hill neighborhood of Mobile, AL. The inaugural workshop was held last summer around the same time, and, while both generative and exciting, it left our leadership team teeming with ideas for how we might organize and revise subsequent workshops, where necessary. We knew, for instance, that we would keep intact the format of the workshop. Recognizing the clear benefits of genuinely collaborative work—one that strengthens and expands our Community of Practice (CoP)—we organized this year’s working groups, again, by placing together: teachers (those from Mobile County Training School, Vigor High School, Blount High School, and Barton Academy), with both researchers, and community partners. Given that it worked so well before, we saw no need to change that aspect. We did, however, make important modifications to the schedule. On that note, one of the things the CoP model stresses is the importance of feedback, that is, providing opportunities for stakeholders to express and be in conversation with one another about the CoP itself, to collectively reflect on its form and the extent to which it enables the group to adequately realize its shared goals. In the spirit of partnership, then, several of our CoP members at the end of last year’s workshop proposed that we allot more time for brainstorming and collaborative interaction, in other words, for practice. In response to that feedback, we developed a workshop schedule that structured in more time for joint work which is critical, especially since it is our aim to help establish curricular interventions that reflect the wide range of knowledge, variety of expertise, and the depth of resources embodied in the collective. It was therefore important for us to set the conditions for that to happen. It was into this deeply collaborative, responsive environment that I had entered. This summer was my first time attending the workshop, in-the-flesh. I had the misfortune of getting COVID in the close-lead-up to last year’s workshop, and so my mediated “attendance” consisted of being projected on a screen as a talking head in a pre-recorded, video-embedded, PowerPoint presentation. I thus experienced this year’s workshop as a newcomer, of sorts. I was also the designated camera person on the first day, and I must say that there is something about moving around, capturing images of folks that gathers space and time together in a unique way. I found myself looking and listening more intently to the overlapping exchanges throughout the event room; I wanted, as best I could, to capture in photographs the dynamism, care, synergy, support, and genuine interest in learning from one another that characterized our coming together. I am not sure how well I accomplished this, but what I will say is that walking around the room, weaving in and out of groups, allowed me to witness so much of what was being co-created in and expressed through our gathering. Below are a couple of my brief observations: First, Dreaming and visioning are contagious. One of the most energizing parts of the workshop was witnessing and participating in conversations that seemed to brim with ideas about how best to encourage students to embrace a citizen-scientist attitude. It was common, for instance, to see one group member present an idea, then another respond by adding something to that, and then another, inspired by the group members’ contributions, insert in to the mix their suggestions. This was a pinging back-and-forth of ideas, resources, and visions, a vortex of creative energy whose limits did not end at close of the day’s sessions. I can recall a moment on the morning of the second workshop day that exemplifies this. Just as the groups reconvened for the first time that day, Dr. Ted Atkinson, a retired pediatrician and soon-to-be master gardener, barely able to contain his excitement, pulled out his padfolio and exclaimed to my group, “Yesterday’s workshop had me scribbling ideas on my pad once we all left!” He then proceeded to share his insights which then gave way to even more brainstorming amongst our group members that included ideas for expanding our sphere of community partners, starting a student-led podcast series, and teaching students how to teach the community about medicinal plant-life. I witnessed this sort of vibrant exchange take shape in another group when Mrs. Holloway, an Mobile County Training School (MCTS) teacher, shared her vision for using her classroom’s aquaponics set up to generate food for her students and surrounding communities, as well as to teach them about sustainable micro-agricultural practices and alternative economies. Her remarks were soon followed up with “Yes, that makes me think of [X]!” or “Have you thought about how we might also do [X]?” or “Oh, now that you mention that, something like [X] might work, too!” There was a clear, productive, and vibrant contagion effect at work. Dreaming and visioning begot even more dreaming and visioning. Second, The notion of usable/usability is often a matter of perception. There are times when others’ claims about what is useable/unusable may impair one’s capacity to imagine what a space or thing can be or become. Indeed, Ms. Ray Richardson, the city of Mobile Environmental Manager, reminded us all of that when sharing some of her work on helping to facilitate the revitalizing of what are referred to as brownfield sites, which are unused or underutilized spaces often made so by pollution and contamination. At a fundamental level, her work involves reimagining space, and problematizing narratives that rigidly circumscribe its use-value. With the right vision and the necessary gathering of resources, the unused/unusable can be transformed into something usable and vitalizing.
All of that said, a core part of what our collaborative work is meant to do is to help inspire a new vision among students, that is, for them to look at things and places with fresh eyes for how they might be used in ways that promote individual and community well-being, even when it may not appear that way at first. One lesson plan, for example, helps students understand how food scraps can become compostable material that then nurtures the development of new life, in different forms. Another lesson asks students to examine how an unused plot of land was transformed into a healing garden, and to consider the varied ways the plants grown there can be put to use. Yet another lesson focuses students’ vision on how an open space could become a site for a future community farmer’s market that features produce grown by MCTS teachers and students. Finally, another idea for a lesson centered on introducing to students the ways that sewage—literal refuse—tells a story about a community’s health, which is to highlight that sewage can be used as a diagnostic for addressing communities’ needs. It is clear that combatting climate change issues and addressing environmental injustice, to a large extent, requires embodying a spirit of resourcefulness, that is, using all we have to both mitigate their impacts and to chart a different pathway to a more livable future. As I see it, then, these curricular lessons are not just about imparting new skills in and developing new competencies among students (though, this is super important!). But we are also hoping to fundamentally encourage the development of a critical consciousness, one where they more readily and consistently reflect on how they might make use of things and spaces—some of which may have been rendered unusable—in order to help the environment. I can say that my vision was expanded during this workshop. It is our hope that through participating in these lessons that the students will experience a change in their field of vision, too. Really, our future depends on it. I am looking forward to seeing what this coming academic year brings, and witnessing the ways students’ relationship to both learning and the environment might take form differently, and for the good. It will be an awesome thing to see our collective visions come into being!
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By Mark Meade and Roald Hazelhoff Rain gardens and bioswales are two landscape designs used to capture stormwater runoff while at the same time creating aesthetic natural outdoor spaces. Becoming a commonly incorporated feature in new home and business designs throughout the US, these structures naturally capture water in low-lying areas and serve to filter contaminants and act as a catchment basin for excessive rain and runoff. Further, the types of vegetation used in these structures can be beneficial to pollinating insects and provide habitat for numerous wildlife including frogs, birds, and salamanders, hence amplifying their aesthetics. Often, sitting areas or gathering spaces are constructed around the structures for all to enjoy the unique flora and fauna. Plant selection is important in the design of a rain garden/bioswale. Plants must be chosen that can tolerate excessive water as well as dry conditions. Since stormwater might be contaminated with pollutants, plants that can tolerate or bioremediate, that is uptake and store, should be considered. For instance, in southern Alabama, native rushes (Juncus spp.) are excellent at filtering contaminants from water and native flowering herbs, such as Sweet Jo Pye (Eutrochium purpureum), attract pollinating insects. Regional conservation offices, such as the Alabama Cooperative Extension System, can provide assistance in selecting plants that will suite your specific rain garden/bioswale needs. Regardless, a rain garden/bioswale is a relatively low cost investment and, with the selection of proper plants, should be relatively maintenance free. Rain gardens/bioswales can also be used to teach about natural systems and the impact of urban activities on our natural world. Any community or school group can assist with the design, monitoring, and maintaining of a rain garden/bioswale to ensure it meets its intended use. These include picking a location and suitable plants, monitoring water and soil quality both before and after setup, monitoring plant growth, and examining the occurrence of wildlife. Students, particularly, can use a rain garden/bioswale to learn about specific environmental processes, such as water and nutrient cycles, and the importance of plants in bioremediation (i.e., the removal of contaminants from water and soil). Located between the new Africatown Heritage House & the Hope Community Center, a bioswale was designed to handle stormwater runoff from the Heritage House roof and parking lot (see pre and post planting pictures below). The roof and parking lot was designed to deal with heavy rainfall, but didn’t address issues with any pollutants that might be in the stormwater (i.e. water quality). The addition of the bioswale, supported by District One Mobile County Commissioner Merceria Ludgood, with its numerous plants and trees, will help not only to create a stunning habitat for a variety of organisms, but a number of the plants will also store or even neutralize heavy metals and other automotive contaminants, including oil, antifreeze, brake fluids, etc., that are likely in the stormwater. Located with a two minute walk, the new Africatown Rain Garden is the perfect outdoor science lab for students at Mobile County Training School. As an extension of the current environmental education project, STEMMING the TIDE: Empowering Youth to meet Coastal Environmental Challenges, students will help maintain and monitor the environmental impact of the bioswale and will be exposed to topics such as water conservation, pollution, and environmental resilience. This summer, STEMMing The Tide has partnered with the Alabama Coastal Foundation to sponsor a summer camp free of charge for ALL Mobile County Training School students who are currently enrolled 6th, 7th and 8th graders. This camp will let students learn about and explore the diverse ecosystems surrounding Mobile, as well as how to become stewards of our community through environmental monitoring techniques, citizen science and research! Parents of MCTS students can register by clicking here. Note, we have extended the registration deadline to April 25th and expanded to include 8th graders as well as 6th and 7th grade students!
Hope to see you this summer! By Louanne Jacobs and Kelly Russell The Passover Seder contains a section known as “The Four Questions.” The central question is “How is this night different from all other nights?” The response is something like, “On all other nights we ______ but on this night we _____.” The premise is that the order and the content and the methods of participation on this night of celebration will be different from all others. Such could be said about the inaugural STEMMING the Tide workshop. It was different in form, in content, and most importantly, in intent from any teacher workshop the two teacher-educators in the group had ever attended. It was refreshing, invigorating, empowering, and oh so different from all other workshops. How was our workshop different? It began with the familiar “here is who we are, and here is the background information.” While this part of the day was intentionally brief, the audio-visual setup of the room resulted in the accompanying PowerPoint being unreadable to most of the audience. We could sense that the audience was still trying to figure us out: Who were we? What was our gimmick? What was our ask? Was this worth their time? Why were professors from Birmingham talking to them about 5E lesson plans and learning theory and trade books? Where were the lesson plans and the materials and assessments that these teachers were going to be asked to incorporate into their already overwhelming workload? You could almost see these questions as thought bubbles floating above the teachers’ heads. Teachers have learned to be skeptical when they are asked to participate in workshops as participation, often, more closely resembles compliance. This is one of the important ways in which this workshop was different from all other workshops – the curriculum, the plans, were to be co-created with teachers and students at the center. The familiar introduction format established the groundwork for creating a community of practice by presenting our strengths and areas of expertise and then inviting the teachers to join the community bringing THEIR expertise – their knowledge of the school, the community, the existing curriculum, and, most importantly, their knowledge of the students who would be at the center of the project. As we broke into working groups comprised of teachers, community partners, and professors the teachers came to realize that there was no curriculum – they were being asked to look at content standards at their grade level and discipline and bring their own expertise to designing individualized needs-based curriculum. They were in the driver’s seat of curriculum design. The vast array of expertise in the room had the potential of making it hard to energize folks toward our project, but we are learning that this diversity of players who care about the same thing (Alabama’s gulf coast) is a defining element of a Community of Practice. The dance of the project is going to be honoring all voices at the table. As the first breakout group began, the teacher-educators in the group were still sorting out our role in this dance – we soon realized that our role included that of convincing teachers that all other members of the group were there to support the development of curriculum, not direct it. One group consisted of Kelly Russell, an education professor at BSC, Alexandria Carter, a science teacher at MCTS, and Nate Carr, an AmeriCorp environmental educator who works with the Mobile Baykeepers. One thing Nate said while talking about his work stood out as being key to why we were all there. He explained that his job consisted of going around to schools in Mobile County, “but this year [I] didn’t get around to MCTS.” He wondered aloud why it might be that that school might have been inadvertently “last on the list.” It was an opportunity for Alexandria to talk about how amazing her students are and how they and the teachers often perceive that they are “last on the list” and how excited they are to be at the table for this project.The large round table and the way we had situated ourselves put Kelly at a distance that allowed her to observe. She was far enough away that it was easy to be a sort of fly on the wall of this early exchange of ideas. She decided to take notes on what she was hearing and seeing. She heard things like, “When you said that, it made me think…” and “Let me show you what I use with kids when I come into classrooms.” In the picture, Nate has pulled up a presentation with images of local sea life. He and Alexandria discussed several that they had found students didn’t know well. Alexandria shared her knowledge about what her students knew and didn’t know about coastal wildlife, and this led to discussions about why kids don’t know about the creatures around them. “They live near the water, but they don’t get the chance to really know what’s there.” Louanne’s group included Darrius Barnes, social studies teacher, and Heaven Pollard and Ellena Balcom from CHESS. Darrius is new to MCTS but not new to the area or the profession. He chose to focus on map skills for 7th grade based on his previous experience. He talked about how his students had little understanding of basic map skills which grew into a conversation about roots and wings and the concept of place in geography. The group pulled Ramsey from MEJAC into their constellation to talk about mapping using a weather balloon and all the geography concepts and skills students could learn by placing themselves, their school, and their neighborhood at the center of an expanding set of balloon launches. At the center of this discussion was teacher expertise and student need supported by a growing community of practice. This, indeed, was different than all other workshops. Finally, this workshop was different from all other workshops in that it was rooted in love. Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1968), argues that education can be a practice of freedom and portrays teachers as facilitators of that growing emancipation through their love of students and learning communities. The common element at the core of each working group table was love: we do this work because we love the earth, because we love the communities, because we love the school, because we love our neighbors, because we love justice, because we love our coastline and our waterways…and above all, because we love these students. By Kate Hayden Our team was in the very early stages of developing this concept and exploring potential communities and schools when Ben Raines first discovered the Clotilda wreckage in 2018. Indeed, in late 2019, we had prepared to pitch this idea first to the City of Birmingham as a response to the Birmingham Promise Program unveiled earlier that year. Then in the spring of 2020, everything got pushed to the side as the college (and the world) shifted under the strain of the COVID-19 pandemic. Each member of the team suddenly found their roles changing as the college moved their courses online and helped students find safe housing off campus to finish out the term. It was not until the spring of 2021 that the team found the capacity to pick up where we left off. At that point, the grant funding landscape had changed dramatically. But in late spring, early summer of 2021, the National Academies of Science, Engineering and Medicine released a call for proposals aimed at exactly what we were trying to do – helping create new leaders in STEMM (the extra “M” is for medicine) with an emphasis on environmental justice and climate change. The only stipulation was that we were required to center our project on a community within the Gulf Coast. Now one could argue that Birmingham, Alabama is a part of or has a direct impact on the Gulf Coast itself, but we wanted to partner with a community that was closer to the coast. Indeed, it was the recent press releases of the Clotilda discovery that drew our attention to Africatown. Through many conversations with representatives from C.H.E.S.S., ACF and the MCTS Alumni Association, we felt that Africatown and MCTS would be the perfect community to pilot our project. And we believe the timing is also ideal. "File:Detail of Cudjoe Lewis marker.jpg" by Womump is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0. Marker and memorial for Cudjoe (Cudjo) Kazoola Lewis. One of the last survivors of the Clotilda and one of the original founders of Africatown. For years, Cudjoe Lewis was thought to be the last survivor of the Clotilda and has been interviewed many times throughout history. His testimony and story has been recorded in Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston. The last known survivor of the Cloltida is actually Matilda McCrear. Matilda died in Selma, Al. in 1940 (5 years after Cudjoe's death). The discovery of the Clotilda has led to a media frenzy in Africatown, drawing the public eye from documentaries, reports, books and interviews across multiple popular platforms. Coupled with this new public interest, recent articles have detailed the multiple lawsuits citing industrial pollution and unethical zoning laws which have highlighted the environmental and human injustices this community has long suffered. As Vince described earlier, the most essential component of our project is the development of a community of practice (CoP), where all stakeholders have opportunities to collaborate and share knowledge and resources. We believe an effective CoP is vitally important at a time like this when new agencies and outside interests are trying to converge in aiding Africatown. A CoP can help protect and prioritize the interests of Africatown residents, students, and businesses while appropriately funneling resources were needed based on their expectations (and not the expectations of outside interests). We view our role as simply providing a framework and resources to support this CoP while also piloting a novel curriculum for MCTS students. Since getting funded only four months ago:
This concludes our four part debut blog post on Giving Voice to a Wish. I would like to thank our readers for their patience and hope that these few blog posts have provided a better understanding our of mission, our motivation and our future plans. If you missed Parts 1 through 3 of this series, you can find them in the links below: Giving Voice to a Wish Part 1: Prologue Giving Voice to a Wish Part 2: Why us? Giving Voice to a Wish Part 3: Why Africatown? Again, thank you to the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine Gulf Coast Research program for funding this project, teachers and administrators from MCTS, our community partners, and of course to our generous readers who take time out of their busy day to follow our story. If you would like to partner with us, have something to share, or simply want to offer your support, please leave a comment below. Funding for this project is supported by the Gulf Research Program of the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine under award number 2000013203. The content is solely the responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily represent the official views of the Gulf Research Program or the National Academics of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine.
By Kate Hayden As you can see in the About Us section, Africatown is a community steeped in rich history and controversy. Not only does it flank against one of the most important watersheds of the Mobile Bay and Gulf of Mexico, but it is also completely isolated from other communities by industrialization and highways. As we explained in our grant proposal to NAS, Africatown is the most disadvantaged and underserved community in the state if not in the entire Gulf Coast region. Ever since the original enslaved Africans from the Clotilda settled in what was considered the town of Magazine Point (or Plateau) along Mobile Bay, their community has been repurposed, rezoned, and whittled away by the decedents of the original landowner and financial backer of the Clotilda, Timothy Meaher. As a result of decades of systemic industrialization and a complete historical disregard for environmental protection or public health by the city and state, the residents of Africatown have been plagued by health problems and have been fighting back in hopes of restoring and preserving their unique community and rich heritage. In addition to the unique combination that Africatown provides in terms of overtly racist environmental injustice, a unique community history and heritage, and a vital watershed in need of protection; Africatown is also home of the first public black high school in Mobile: Mobile Country Training School. Founded in 1910 and accredited by the state in 1928, MCTS now serves as a middle school for students in and around Africatown. According to the most recent data from the Alabama Department of Education , MCTS is a title 1 school comprised of nearly 100% marginalized groups (99% Black/African American). Over 90% of the student population is considered economically disadvantaged, 22% have physical or learning disabilities and almost 6% are considered homeless. ALSDE reported that MCTS has a chronic absenteeism rate of 27%, three times the rate of nearby Calloway Smith Middle School. Interestingly, during discussions with teachers from MCTS, we later learned that the increased rate of absences for their students is largely due to localized flooding, trapping students in their homes. Climate change coupled with continued industrialization and land stripping will only exacerbate this problem for students and faculty at MCTS. Often, we find educational programs that leverage active learning and project-based learning (such as the one we aim to create) tend to target more affluent communities or families. Often these are students who are already high achieving and are funneled into accelerated programs or schools. There is a prevalent misconception in the education system that underperforming students would be unprepared and would fail if placed in such programs and are therefore channeled into programs that focus on remedial (and often boring and ineffective) educational practices. And often, these students come from poorer families and communities. Misconceptions like this are grounded in racist stereotypes that foster fixed mindsets philosophies of how students learn and grow. While underperforming students do require proper preparation and scaffolding to succeed in an experiential learning environment, evidence suggests they may have the most to gain from such an approach. To wrap up Part III of Giving Voice to a Wish: Why Africatown, I will leave you with a sermon recorded by Rev. Leonard Morse (Dean of MCTS in 1923). In this sermon, Rev. Morse prays that "our children whose lisping tongues and innocent laughter encourage us to lift ourselves out of our second bondage". May we add our voices to his wish nearly 100 years later. If you missed parts I and II of Giving Voice to a Wish, simply follow these links:
Giving Voice to a Wish Part I: Prologue Giving Voice to a Wish Part II: Why Us? And stay tuned for the conclusion of Giving Voice to a Wish: Part IV: Why Now? by Kate Hayden Our approach for simultaneously engaging students in STEM while addressing gaps in environmental justice along the Gulf Coast is through the creation of a community of practice. Therefore, defining “us” can be tricky. The guiding principle of a community of practice is that we intentionally construct a network of stakeholders that vary in perspective, role, skill, resources, and needs. Our CoP is comprised of academics, community agencies, civic leaders, public school educators and administrators, residents, and students. However, when most people ask “why are you doing this?” they are referring to what I have called the STEMMing The Tide Leadership Team comprised of academics from education, chemistry, urban environmental studies, and political science. While you can learn more about our research expertise in the Leadership Team section of the website.. I thought it might be helpful to define “why us” by letting each person address their reasons (in their own words) for joining the team and what they wish to achieve. Desireé-I was the last of us to join the core grant team. Prior to our August 2021 submission, I had been on a year-long fellowship through the Woodrow Wilson Institute (now named the Institute for Citizens & Scholars), and once having officially returned, Vince approached me with the idea of signing on to the grant. At first, I was a bit intimidated by Vince’s proposal both because the project appeared to encompass a lot of moving parts, and due to its overall significance. To the latter point, this work (that is, addressing issues of environmental injustice/racism, and encouraging and equipping students to become citizen scholars) is important and necessary, and I wanted to be sure that I could contribute meaningfully to the project and to the Africatown community. It did not take me long to say yes, and I am incredibly grateful that I did! There were several reasons I thought it good to commit myself to grant, all of which I won’t inventory here. But what I will say is that, as the Coordinator for Birmingham-Southern College’s relatively new Distinction in Black Studies program, I thought this grant contained the potential for aspects of Black Studies and Black life to come into clearer and different focus for our students. That being said, as we continue in this work, I plan to develop pathways for Black Studies students to get involved, and hope that in their doing so, they come to understand better (among other things) the relationship between race, history, and the environment. Ultimately, though, I was and continue to be excited by the possibility that I might play some role in helping mold a different, more livable future for the Africatown community. Kate – Current data clearly demonstrates that the pipeline for STEM is leaking, and it is systemically leaking at an exponentially higher rate for women and black, indigenous, people of color (BIPOC). The scientific issues currently plaguing our communities now and, in the future, will require a diverse perspective to solve. If we do not address these gaps in our STEM education and workforce, we will find ourselves stagnating and repeating the same old solutions to new challenges without effect. My research with college aged students demonstrates that active and experiential learning can help close the achievement gap for women and BIPOC students, allowing them to continue along the STEM path. However, I do not see students until they are in their junior or senior year in college. Many of the women and BIPOC students who could benefit from my pedagogical approach were lost long before they could have reached my classroom. When Roald reached out to me (3 years ago!) about an idea to work with elementary and middle school aged kids to create a service-learning science curriculum focused on watershed restoration, I jumped at the opportunity. Here was my chance to work with educators and younger students, to hopefully engage them in STEM at an earlier age and help better prepare them for the pipeline ahead so that I may see more diversity in my own courses later. The idea has since evolved and matured (as all innovative ideas should) with much thanks to our expanding team and the variety of expertise on it. While I know this project is currently focused on one school, in one community; I am hopeful that we will be able to demonstrate that this is an adaptable model for developing a locally relevant and effective STEM curriculum for all young people that other communities would be willing to try. Kelly: My area of research and passion is STEM education. In the early months of 2020, I was working with Kate and Roald to write an NSF grant that would involve working with the Birmingham City School System. We wanted to develop a curricular unit that would focus on watersheds. We chose schools that were both near watersheds and in socio-economically disadvantaged areas of the city. We had gotten to the point of meeting with the science coordinators in the school system. If I remember correctly, the grant proposal was due in March of 2020. It’s easy to understand why progress on developing that work ground to a sudden halt. As the 2021 academic year began, Roald and Kate asked me if I was still interested in participating in a grant focused on STEM education. The focus of the granting agency was the gulf coast. Even though the location of the work had moved to Mobile rather than Birmingham, the spirit of the project was still there. Our first trip to Africatown made me see how different this project is. I was aware that students in certain sections of Birmingham live in areas where pollution causes health problems. I understood the industrial players who had caused the pollution. Mobile County Training School was different. While Birmingham is a sprawling metropolitan area, Africatown is one definable area of land with one school – Mobile County Training School. When we visited the area, I didn’t have to search for the sources of pollution. I could see them all as I stood in one spot. As we stood under the Africatown bridge, I could see industry all around me. Some were still active while others had shut their doors leaving dangerous pollution at the back door of the families of the area. I could smell the chemical scent in the air. This project involves another aspect that excites me. We are a multi-disciplinary group. I know science curriculum and best practices in education. I don’t have the knowledge of polluting chemicals that Kate has. I don’t look at the world through the lens of a political scientist. I haven’t planned and implemented community gardens. I had never considered a “Community of Practice” model. I have seen the community grow and multiply as we have worked toward one goal, and I want to be a part of that excitement. Louanne: Kelly and I work together in the Teacher Education department at Birmingham-Southern. When I say “work” together I mean that we are very often in one another’s back pockets - team teaching classes and working on projects together. Though I was not a member of the core team, I vicariously participated through my “hip pocket colleague.” I had mentioned to Kelly that though the grant was STEM focused some consideration of social studies, history, and geography would help students to connect the science of environmental justice to Concept of Place – the geography and history of a place, a space, its population, and the systems which impact that place and its people. I was more than thrilled to be invited to join the extended team. During the inaugural workshop many teachers indicated that their students did not simply have trouble with geography and map skills, they weren’t interested in geography and often couldn’t identify where they lived. We got into some amazing conversations about the Concept of Place and the consequences of not understanding one’s grounding in space and time. I mentioned that we could all rest assured that if WE didn’t understand where we live, why we live where we live, and how our social communities are impacted by systems, someone else DID know. As someone at our table remarked, “Yes, it’s like the old saying that if you are not at the table, you are probably on the menu.” I have participated in, planned, organized, or directed hundreds of teacher workshops. I can say that I have never worked with a group of teachers who are more in love with their students, their school, and their community. I look forward to the magic that these teachers will work with their students. I look forward to watching students and teachers connect math, science, social studies, and literacy as tools to identify their place in time and space and use these new connections to address issues of environmental justice in their community. Roald: Southern Environmental Center was established in 1992 with the idea of doing two things. First, open the ‘walls’ that traditionally insulate institutes of higher learning from their surrounding communities, and invite local schools, scout groups and civic organizations to visit our campus facilities. Second, establish partnerships between Birmingham-Southern College departments and organizations with local sustainability initiatives. Since that time, BSC has developed the only Urban Environmental Studies program in the State, and we have become the largest environmental education center of its kind in Alabama, with over 14,000 K-12 students touring our campus and Turkey Creek facilities annually. Most of the visiting schools come from well-funded districts, which is not the case within the neighborhoods zoned for Birmingham’s City Schools. A preponderance of these are Title 1 schools, and a sizable portion were built in former or current industrial zones, like Collegeville & North Birmingham. Over the years our center has written grants to enable these schools to visit our facilities and built outdoor classrooms on or near their campuses. We also developed informal science programs that identified what watershed these schools were in, and got them involved in local cleanups, water quality monitoring, and restoration planning efforts. Birmingham’s watersheds drain into the Mobile Basin, transporting surface litter, heavy metals from old industrial sites, agricultural waste, and tons of sediment from poorly managed construction sites. Our center’s expertise in developing connections with local schools and community partners makes Mobile a perfect location for STEMMing The Tide. Together with Kelly, Vince, Kate, Desiree, Louanne, and other talented BSC faculty, we hope to build communities of practice that will not just benefit Mobile, but Alabama as a whole. Vince: In July, 2021, Roald asked me if I was interested in partnering on the NAS proposal because of my research and teaching experiences. We had partnered on an NOAA environmental literacy grant proposal in 2017, but it was not funded. I saw great potential in this grant proposal effort, so I agreed to participate. I felt we could capitalize on the skills and expertise of my top-notch BSC colleagues to build a great interdisciplinary team. I’ve been working on the politics of disasters since graduate school. I’ve not only researched historical environmental hazards and disasters as an academic but have been directly involved in humanitarian assistance and disaster risk reduction projects in several Latin America and the Caribbean countries. I’ve seen how the poorest, most marginalized communities are the most impacted by disasters. Moreover, I’ve been lucky to capitalize on funding opportunities from the NSF, an internship with USAID’s Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance, various consulting gigs, and team research efforts to produce a solid body of work before applying for full professor. I’ve worked on several projects with colleagues at the Extreme Events Institute at Florida International University. Projects have included disasters and public opinion, disaster corruption, climate change adaptation, and building codes. However, my research productivity waned considerably after becoming department chair in 2014, and the COVID-19 pandemic delayed the submission of several of our articles. We circulated many drafts of the proposal, and I thought the final version was excellent. However, I was not super confident we would win the grant. Probably 75% of the grant proposals I’ve helped to write have been shot down. I knew we’d be facing stiff competition, and $1.25 million for five years is a significant chunk of change for little BSC. So, I was more than a little shocked when we learned we had won it! I think one of the reasons we won the grant was the care and preparation we put into the proposal. It was a genuine team effort. But Kate, Kelly, and Roald bring the much-needed professional environmental educator aspect to it. I haven’t had a lot of professional contact with K-12 educators. Desireé, of course, brings her expertise in black studies and environmental racism to the project. I thought I could contribute to the project with my experience with the “Community of Practice” (CoP) model. I’ve used the CoP model in several Central American communities to facilitate disaster risk reduction projects involving students, teachers, parents, community leaders, and subject matter experts. Another reason I think we won the grant stems from the grant’s voice, which indicates our passion for teaching, service learning, and combatting environmental and social injustices. None of us knew much about Africatown before we started this project, and we soon realized that carefully cultivating relationships would be essential to the project’s success. Since this is our first blog post, I’ll reserve my thoughts and reflections on developing the CoP and the success of our first workshop for another time. Ultimately, we hope to address the significant gaps in environmental justice and education that we see plaguing communities like Africatown. We feel that being “outsiders”, we can objectively help create a framework connecting existing infrastructure, resources, and opportunities of a community to allow the community to have voice in the directionality and use of those resources.
Stay tuned for Part III of Giving Voice to a Wish: Why Africatown. If you missed Part I of Giving Voice to a Wish: Prologue, just click here! By Kate Hayden We recently celebrated my son’s 9th birthday last week. It was a small, family focused affair where the gifts focused on shared experience versus isolating technology (board games, tickets to sporting events, and of course science kits; etc..) So later that evening, when my son came into my room and asked “Do people sometimes make two wishes on their birthday, or is it always just one.” I groaned inwardly. He didn’t get the newest video gaming system that he asked for and of course he is hoping that special birthday wish would do the trick… “No buddy, everyone just gets one wish” Seemingly resigned to his ill-fated future of nights filled with uno and capture the flag with his middle-aged parents in the backyard, he quietly retreated to his room. A little bit later, as I prepared for bed myself, I went to tuck him in only to find him crying quietly. Alarmed I asked, “What’s wrong buddy?” “I messed up!” He cried “I can’t make two wishes and I made a mistake!” Sighing, I sat down beside him and began stroking his hair. “Oh hun, it is okay. We can figure this out.” But when it became obvious that he was significantly distressed I prompted him “Okay, maybe you need to tell me what the second wish is and we can talk about it”. “I CAN’T! It wont come true!” was his vehement response, his eyes wide and pleading. “Oh honey, that is just something people say, it really doesn’t matter. If this is affecting you this much, then we need to talk about it.” He exclaimed “You made it worse! Now neither wish will come true?” “Oh no, that isn’t what I meant... I mean if you tell me what you wanted to wish for then we can work together to come up with a plan to make it come true” Mind you, I am still mentally preparing for him to ask for this virtual reality gaming system and already working on a chore-based payment system for him in my mind. After a few minutes of coaxing and tears, his response still echoes in my heart today “I wished that we would be happy forever.” “That’s an amazing selfless and empathetic wish honey!” Pride swelling in my eyes. “But I should have made a second wish! That you and daddy will never die!” And I was devastated. Obviously, we spent some time discussing his wishes… but later a lesson evolved from this exchange that resonated: We should always give voice to our wishes. Here was my 9-year-old son, wrestling with the anxiety of this wish by himself because he felt if he spoke it aloud it would never come true. It is heartbreaking to imagine, and I am pretty sure this is something we have all experienced ourselves. But the only way we can make our wishes and our dreams a reality is to speak them aloud. This whole concept of “shhh, don’t say it or it won’t come true” is just wrong. We should declare what it is we want to see happen loudly so that other people can hear it and have the opportunity to join with us and share in making that wish a reality. Giving voice to a wish is essentially grant writing. It is finding the people who also find value in your wish and who are willing to put in the same amount of work, sweat, worry and heartache. People who are willing to research the issue that needs change and design a plan of action to make that wish come true. And then convey that need and plan to complete strangers so they can fund that shared wish. Wishing should never be a solo sport. So what is our wish? Simply put, it is to construct a curriculum for middle schoolers to engage with their local community while learning about and enjoying science! Simple right? We all know it is the words “engage” and “enjoy” that give us pause, especially for tweens. How do we get middle schoolers to engage civically and enjoy science, or really enjoy anything adults tell them to enjoy for that matter? Well, our idea is why not let them use science to solve a problem that they believe is plaguing their own community. Allow them to give voice to their own wishes for change while they in turn learn about the history of their own communities, the principles of environmental (in)justice and climate change, and even a little science too. And crazily enough, the National Academies of Science, Engineering and Medicine agreed with us and funded our wish. So, the purpose of this blog is to chronicle our process, and to continue giving voice to our wish in hopes that others will join us. While Africatown is the community we chose to pilot this project in, our hope is that we can expand this project to other marginalized and disenfranchised communities along the Gulf Coast and throughout the US to prepare civically engaged and scientifically trained leaders for the next generation. Since getting funded, we have traveled to Africatown and Mobile multiple times to meet and speak with city leaders, community activists, educators, environmentalists, and other academics. And while all have been eager to collaborate with us and have provided us with even more people to network with… nearly all have asked us the same questions: “Why you? Why Africatown? Why now?” With the recent discovery of the Clotilda, residents and local activists are rightfully wary of outsiders who are looking to exploit their story for short term profit. It is my hope that this debut blog post not only sets the scene for what it is we want to do, but also authentically addresses these important questions to our readers. Over the course of the next week, we will be releasing posts that address these three questions: |
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AuthorThis is a collaborative blog with multiple authors from our community of practice focused on the community of Africatown in Mobile, Al. Archives
August 2023
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