No one would ever imagine that digging up 50 cm into the ground could be a difficult task; it surely does not sound as impressive as climbing a 50 m tree in South American jungles or going into the depth of the ocean looking for secretive marine creatures. But I can assure you that it is somehow adventurous when you are looking for colonies of the ant Ectatomma ruidum – particularly when you are trying to collect the whole colony.
When looking at forests, we hardly get to see beyond a bunch of green. However, for a plant ecologist, forests represent a much more complex world consisting of different species.
This diversity of species also reflects diverse forms and functions that define how plants work. Using information of plant function could help predict forests' responses to changing environments.
When we think about art, what first comes to mind? Who is an artist?
These questions guided my research as I gathered resources for a lesson exploring several quilts in the collection at the Anacostia Community Museum. Along the way, I uncovered some of the stories associated with the colorful designs, adding a layer of complexity to these pieces of art. What follows is just one example of the many ways we can explore how memory helps us engage with objects in museum collections.
Do you prefer low, well-upholstered furniture? Do you like to sleep nude? Do you have a poor poker face? These questions may sound like another kooky BuzzFeed quiz, but they are actually taken from a test entitled “Who Are You?” The test, developed by psychologist William H. Sheldon, categorized people into one of three different body types: endomorph (fat), ectomorph (thin), and mesomorph (muscular) based on their responses to questions about their daily habits, traits, and preferences.
Museums have a lot of stuff. Wandering through the collection “pods,” as we call them at the Smithsonian, you can find mummies, ancient textiles, and taxidermized polar bears. You can even find jars of fish caught in the 1800s by some of the first documented naturalists. These fishes can tell us what coral reefs were like in the past and can help us figure out how we have changed these vibrant ecosystems over the past two centuries.
Each day, the National Museum of American History (NMAH) receives hundreds—sometimes thousands—of teenage visitors. Teens wearing bucket hats; groups in matching t-shirts; groups that are aggressively rude to staff in the elevators. But while the museum succeeds in many things, it does not necessarily engage well with youth
The Smithsonian’s American Women’s History Initiative – Because of Her Story – marks an exciting moment for the Smithsonian Institution to intentionally engage with women’s history. Launched in 2018, the initiative is one of the largest efforts to “research, collect, document, display, and share the compelling story of women” through various educational programming across the museum campus. The initiative encompasses a digital focus to “amplify a diversity of women’s voices” across many of the Smithsonian Institution’s programs and sites, including at the National Museum of American History (NMAH).
Flyers. Even in today’s increasingly digitalized society you still see them everywhere: clipped on light posts, spread out on the outside walls of buildings, handed out in corners, and so on. As we hold them in our hands or casually glance at them as we walk by, we seldom think of flyers as being keepers of history. But that is exactly what they can be, capturing and chronicling events that might have otherwise slipped through the cracks of historical archives.
Picture this: the year is 1983 and Disneyland has started dubbing some of its English commercials into Spanish in the hopes of reaching a wider audience. However, despite being surrounded by one of the largest Latino populations in the country, less than 15% of visitors were Latino.
For years, the dangerous virus currently making global headlines was circulating in wild animals, replicating and spreading with little notice from the host that carried it. This virus, that scientists now believe originated in bats, quickly turned from a benign hitchhiker to a deadly producer of disease when it was introduced to an animal population it had never come in contact with before – humans.