By Doug Himberger, Ph.D., CEE Trustee
The Center for Excellence in Education (CEE) has a noble and critical mission – to “nurture high school and university scholars to careers of excellence and leadership in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics [STEM], and to encourage collaboration between and among leaders in the global community.” But its mission is also unique and difficult – and that is the essence of my message. Why do the best and brightest in STEM need extraordinary help and support? Why are they not at the top of the list for community support, contributions, and donations? Why are they invisible?
An interesting dichotomy exists – we often say that all of us, whether scientists, plumbers, or philosophers, are equal. James Mason said it well in 1775: “We came equals into this world, and equals shall we go out of it.” Certainly Mason was talking about much larger issues than a person’s STEM literacy, but his thoughts resonate in this context as well. If we are all equals, then why do we somehow set apart those with strong STEM inclinations and skills, and then ignore them? Dean Kamen, inventor and engineer, may point us in the right direction when he said, “A society gets what it celebrates.” Kamen often says that we regularly and vigorously celebrate our sports heroes, and that drives us to place them in positions of honor and respect. Do we do the same for our STEM “heroes?” Certainly we do not often do so – nor do we place them in those positions of honor. We barely see them at all.
The conundrum presents itself in many ways, one of which is centered in expectations. Kamen says, “You have teenagers thinking they're going to make millions as NBA stars when that's not realistic for even 1 percent of them. Becoming a scientist or engineer is." Though realistic, we again do not celebrate striving to achieve a STEM profession. But becoming the next franchise player in an NFL team? Certainly we revel in that often.
Perhaps this “invisibility” of our STEM students, teachers, and practitioners can be linked to another important part of our society – stories. Stories are important to capturing and passing along our experiences (though some argue that this is becoming less important with the evolution of the web and, in particular, social media). In fact, Stella Grace Jones (my grandmother) may have said it best in one of her many adages: “The only things that matter in life are the things that become stories.” Think of it – of all the things that happen to you in any given day, few rise to the level of sharing stories about them with others. But those that do become memorable … visible. Do we share stories about our STEM experiences? Perhaps this happens, but probably not enough. The TED series of lectures has a vision statement (though ironically even they specifically set apart technology) that confirms “it’s not about technology, it’s about people and stories.” How about combining all three – technology, people, and stories?
Another possible root of invisibility – a disconnection between STEM education and preparation as opposed to real-life practice and value. Glen Whitney, founder of the new Museum of Mathematics (MoMath) in Manhattan, said (and, for the purposes of this discussion, try substituting “STEM” each time Whitney says “math”):
“In the roughly 2,000 hours of math instruction you get in traditional K-12 school, you get a non-representative view of what mathematics as a human enterprise is like. You learn that every problem has a specific method, and it’s just a matter of matching up the problem to the method. If you follow that recipe, you will get the one correct answer. There’s no sense of creativity or imagination or beauty or exploration. I think exploration is at the core of what mathematics is as an enterprise.
“There’s also this impression that math is utterly linear. If you reach an obstacle — whether it’s something you find difficult or just don’t like — under the linear model of math, you’re done. You can’t proceed. Math must not be for you. That image is wrong. Mathematics is actually extremely bushy. There are so many different areas, and there’s no need for people to feel that if they don’t like one area, then they don’t like math at all.”
We see this every day. As Whitney states, “It’s a generational problem. It’s okay…to go to a cocktail party and say, ‘Oh, math. I was never any good at math,’ and everyone else says, ‘Oh, yeah, I know what you mean, ha ha ha!’ You would never say that about reading or history, but somehow it’s okay with math. It’s seen as this alien thing that’s not really part of our world. Actually, math is connected to every possible thing you can imagine.” The same can be said about STEM in general – so if it’s so ‘connected,’ it’s all the more frustrating that it is (and those who practice it are) invisible.
So what to do? How can we remove this STEM ‘cloak of invisibility’ (it’s certainly not a super power!)? Whitney has begun a conference called MOVES, which stands for Mathematics of Various Entertaining Subjects. It’s been a surprising success, drawing twice the attendance expected – though still measured in the hundreds, not thousands. What if we had a “STEM of Various Entertaining Subjects” conference? What if we could exponentially increase attendance based on those caught up by the title alone? What if we not only invited STEM students and experts, but also those connected to the “various entertaining subjects” as well? How many would attend? Numbers beyond our expectations, I’ll bet.
Further, along the lines of Whitney’s suggestions, what if we had our students exposed to STEM specialists at earlier ages – not general educators in the grammar school years as is often now the case? If those that are absolutely passionate about STEM were sharing that enthusiasm with our students, the young might capture that passion … and pass it along through stories of their positive experiences. Those stories might change our culture. STEM might become visible. And what a wonderful vision that would be.