Family and the field: Expectations of a field-based research career affect researcher family planning decisions - Christopher D. Lynn, Michaela E. Howells, Max J. Stein
Journal article - "Anthropology is a field-based discipline that utilizes a comparative approach to understand humanity. However, social and financial barriers may undermine intersectionality in the discipline and prevent some individuals from pursuing an anthropological career. We examined perceived stress and family-career balance among anthropologists and those training to become anthropologists with regard to SES, gender, and family planning decisions. To accomplish this, we used a convenience survey."
https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0203500
The discussion includes an exceptional overview of how anthropology fieldwork is managed by parents, and how it influences careers.
Nice blog post discussing some of the details from a personal perspective by Caitlin McDonough MacKenzie - https://blogs.plos.org/ecology/2018/10/31/family-and-the-field/
Saturday, July 20, 2019
Monday, July 15, 2019
Ecology Fieldwork and Teaching Adventures with Children
By Andrea Worthington, Ph.D. Professor emeritus, Biology, Siena College, Loudonville, NY
I have spent my career teaching field courses in Plant Ecology and Tropical Biology at a small college in upstate New York. With my husband’s help, I took all my children with me in the field for weekend field trips. When I started teaching Tropical Biology, first in Puerto Rico and then in Costa Rica, I brought my husband and children along. My husband and I collaborate on research, examining the prey capture behavior of dragonflies and the neuro-ethology of prey capture. The history of my academic career is tightly woven to accommodate raising children.
I know that working while having babies requires lots of creativity. The best decision I made was to commit to breast feeding. My first born arrived in March and I had already arranged an unpaid leave for the spring semester to care for my son. When I had to return to work, I was very lucky to find a care-giver who was also a nursing mom and she was willing to help me. My plan was to nurse my first born during all my time at home including through the night. My care-giver knew how to offer water with a sippy cup to my son who was just 6 months old when I returned to work in the Fall. My daughter was born 5 years later in June but I also took an unpaid leave in the Fall.
I was hired by a four-year college to teach Plant Ecology (along with many other courses). Every year, the Plant Ecology course would spend a weekend in the Adirondacks visiting sphagnum bogs and climbing a mountain collecting data on how plant communities change with altitude. We would tent camp and cook meals on camp stoves. Class sizes would vary from 15 to 30. My husband came with me and so did our children as they arrived. I also invited colleagues (with or without children) to join us. I found that having children present really led to more community and helpful behavior in the field. It also tamped down unwanted behaviors such as the urge to 1) sneak in beer and party when we camped and 2) race to the top of the mountain.
The following three photos are from various trips to study tree gradients on Adirondack Mts in Plant Ecology lab.
We would camp out Friday nights and hit the trails early Saturday to reach the summit collecting data on plant community structure and diversity on the way.
My son’s first Adirondack adventure was when he was 1½ years old. He was still nursing at the time. He participated in 14 mountain data-collecting assents. My daughter’s first Adirondack adventure was when she was 1 years old. She was also nursing. She participated in 12 mountain data-collecting assents. Thank heavens for child backpack carriers. With the help of my husband and other colleagues that joined us, the students collected data at each elevation interval gain and we got everyone to the top of the mountain. My children learned to identify plants and, as they got older, they were great teaching assistants.
The first time I taught Tropical Ecology, my son was 10 months old. The course was co-taught and we had a winter break trip to Puerto Rico. My husband came along to care for our son while I was supervising student research. Our son took his first steps in El Yunque National Forest.
The first time we taught Tropical Ecology in Costa Rica, my co-teacher brought his wife and their 2 year old child and I brought my husband and both our children (our son was 16 and our daughter was 12).
We visited 3 different field stations covering various different tropical plant communities…traveling by bus and living in field station dormitories. It was so helpful to have curious young people at any age. The 1 year old loved the leaf cutter ants.
Again, traveling with families really impacted the student behavior. I would say they were a fabulous addition since they were constantly curious and had a wonderful ability to observe and discover creatures. They were great assistants in student projects. The students included them in their social activities too which I think damped down possible chaos.
The children also went along to international professional society meetings, along with field trips.
Our children over the years helped us with our research on the neuro-ethology of prey capture behavior in dragonflies. They helped us dig a backyard pond to attract dragonflies.
The have helped us collect dragonfly larvae and adults in the field. They have helped us video prey capture behavior in the field. Each did independent research projects on dragonflies for high school honors research.
So after all that exposure to science, what have they chosen to do with their lives? My son is a musician and is a partner in a music production studio and my daughter is working on a Ph.D. in plant genetics.
I have spent my career teaching field courses in Plant Ecology and Tropical Biology at a small college in upstate New York. With my husband’s help, I took all my children with me in the field for weekend field trips. When I started teaching Tropical Biology, first in Puerto Rico and then in Costa Rica, I brought my husband and children along. My husband and I collaborate on research, examining the prey capture behavior of dragonflies and the neuro-ethology of prey capture. The history of my academic career is tightly woven to accommodate raising children.
I know that working while having babies requires lots of creativity. The best decision I made was to commit to breast feeding. My first born arrived in March and I had already arranged an unpaid leave for the spring semester to care for my son. When I had to return to work, I was very lucky to find a care-giver who was also a nursing mom and she was willing to help me. My plan was to nurse my first born during all my time at home including through the night. My care-giver knew how to offer water with a sippy cup to my son who was just 6 months old when I returned to work in the Fall. My daughter was born 5 years later in June but I also took an unpaid leave in the Fall.
I was hired by a four-year college to teach Plant Ecology (along with many other courses). Every year, the Plant Ecology course would spend a weekend in the Adirondacks visiting sphagnum bogs and climbing a mountain collecting data on how plant communities change with altitude. We would tent camp and cook meals on camp stoves. Class sizes would vary from 15 to 30. My husband came with me and so did our children as they arrived. I also invited colleagues (with or without children) to join us. I found that having children present really led to more community and helpful behavior in the field. It also tamped down unwanted behaviors such as the urge to 1) sneak in beer and party when we camped and 2) race to the top of the mountain.
The following three photos are from various trips to study tree gradients on Adirondack Mts in Plant Ecology lab.
We would camp out Friday nights and hit the trails early Saturday to reach the summit collecting data on plant community structure and diversity on the way.
My son’s first Adirondack adventure was when he was 1½ years old. He was still nursing at the time. He participated in 14 mountain data-collecting assents. My daughter’s first Adirondack adventure was when she was 1 years old. She was also nursing. She participated in 12 mountain data-collecting assents. Thank heavens for child backpack carriers. With the help of my husband and other colleagues that joined us, the students collected data at each elevation interval gain and we got everyone to the top of the mountain. My children learned to identify plants and, as they got older, they were great teaching assistants.
The first time I taught Tropical Ecology, my son was 10 months old. The course was co-taught and we had a winter break trip to Puerto Rico. My husband came along to care for our son while I was supervising student research. Our son took his first steps in El Yunque National Forest.
The first time we taught Tropical Ecology in Costa Rica, my co-teacher brought his wife and their 2 year old child and I brought my husband and both our children (our son was 16 and our daughter was 12).
 |
| Author's daughter mist-netting birds with co-instructor and students |
 |
| Author and son viewing monkeys in Costa Rica |
We visited 3 different field stations covering various different tropical plant communities…traveling by bus and living in field station dormitories. It was so helpful to have curious young people at any age. The 1 year old loved the leaf cutter ants.
 |
| Costa Rica Tropical Biology Field Course |
The children also went along to international professional society meetings, along with field trips.
 | ||
|
Our children over the years helped us with our research on the neuro-ethology of prey capture behavior in dragonflies. They helped us dig a backyard pond to attract dragonflies.
 |
|
Building
a backyard dragonfly pond to raise animals
for research.
|
The have helped us collect dragonfly larvae and adults in the field. They have helped us video prey capture behavior in the field. Each did independent research projects on dragonflies for high school honors research.
So after all that exposure to science, what have they chosen to do with their lives? My son is a musician and is a partner in a music production studio and my daughter is working on a Ph.D. in plant genetics.
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
Fieldwork with Family Blog/Resource from aKidemic Life
aKidemic Life
https://akidemiclife.com/fieldwork-with-kids/
https://akidemiclife.com/fieldwork-with-kids/
"Taking your kids into the field may be a fantastic educational opportunity, but fieldwork can be stressful at the best of times, even when you aren't juggling the demands of research and family. Here we provide information to help you kick-start a family-friendly research trip that is safe and enjoyable for all. Join the aKIDemic Life community today and we will send you the latest tips to help you prepare for your next fieldtrip."
Friday, January 18, 2019
Fieldwork with family in Madagascar
Lovely story about a paleontologist who does her research in Madagascar, along with her children and spouse, who studies lemurs. The story glances over the twenty years they have
Spent doing research there, and offers practical advice for things to bring and getting started.
https://fieldsecrets.wordpress.com/2019/01/17/paleontologist-mom/
Spent doing research there, and offers practical advice for things to bring and getting started.
https://fieldsecrets.wordpress.com/2019/01/17/paleontologist-mom/
Thursday, November 1, 2018
Decades of Visiting a Greenland Field Site with Children
In this recent blog post, Pernille Sporon Boving shares an interview with her 3 children about their thoughts on climate change and climate change actions. Interspersed among the Q&A are photos of the children from their Greenland field site over the last 2 decades. We hope to have Eric, Pernille, and the three children write a post about their experience as a family in the field.
https://climatechange.
https://climatechange.
Monday, October 8, 2018
Fieldwork, with and without kids, and Mom Guilt
DOCHPJONES@FemFieldSecrets has written a nice post about the trade offs of having children with you in the field, or leaving them at home. She also includes an honest look at Mom guilt as it intersects with fieldwork. Lovely photos of her daughters helping in the field as well.
https://fieldsecrets.wordpress.com/2018/10/09/does-field-work-make-me-a-bad-mom/
https://fieldsecrets.wordpress.com/2018/10/09/does-field-work-make-me-a-bad-mom/
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
Field work while parenting: an ideal summer in the mountains
By Chris Adlam
The bear really did it for me. Or was it the rattlesnake? Or maybe the daily menagerie of lizards, toads and garter snakes my 5-year-old held up happily for our inspection. I thought, “this is what field research while parenting should look like!”
My partner Rosemary, our two children (5 and 2) and myself were camping in the Klamath Mountains of Northern California for 6 weeks while I gathered data on the effect of wildfires on forest life. The Klamaths are easily the most remote area on the Pacific coast of the United States, typically ignored even by tourists, though the Pacific Crest Trail begrudgingly does a westerly detour through the high country. A few communities along the rushing Salmon River, relicts of the gold rush, were never connected to the grid. Bigfoot is everywhere. Tribal cultures, including the Karuk, Hoopa and Yurok, nurture a vibrant connection to ancestral lands marked everywhere by millennia of traditional care, from tanoak and sugar pine orchards to ancient village sites and spiritual trails.
The Klamaths are also exceedingly steep, poison oak is ubiquitous, mosquitoes are locally overwhelming and temperatures in summer soar to the three digits. So would our offspring take to living in this rugged place for half the summer, or would they be miserable? Would we all be miserable in this paradise? The last time we camped, we’d only gone a couple of days before hearing the tireless refrain of “I want to go home!”
This summer’s research was going to be critical to my PhD project. Though I have years of field experience, I had never organized a field season from scratch. I was also going to bring along two interns, whose needs I would have to attend to in addition to my family’s. Wanting to avoid last minute scrambles, I started organizing months in advance, including making packing lists, storing research and camping gear in plastic tubs for the day it would be needed, and really dialing in my protocol to avoid hang-ups. I designed my schedule to have a reasonable daily load so I could spend time with my family and also so I could be flexible if changes needed to be made in the field.
When we arrived at our destination, we had the entire campground to ourselves. We quickly investigated river access, which would turn out to be a key ingredient in spending a happy summer in the wilderness. Rosemary would go to the river with the kids every morning while I was off doing surveys. When I returned around lunch time, I would join them and sometimes take our oldest on a trip down the river in our inflatable paddle boat (though for all my organizational frenzy I hadn’t actually brought paddles!). Or we would build dams on small tributaries. We waded in search of water life, catching tadpoles, small fish, and, once, a lamprey. We collected dead butterflies and dragonflies and poked at scat piles. We would end our adventures looking for wood for the campfire, which was mostly unnecessary but very entertaining.
The kids were never bored and never complained about camping. They seemed to flourish and settled right in to our new rhythm. They became very relaxed playing and swimming in the river (with life jackets). Our youngest stopped needing diapers. They became experts at identifying poison oak, and no one got it, which was a miracle. Being in nature was relaxing and nurturing, for them and for us.
I love UC Davis as a school, but Davis is flat, surrounded by industrial agriculture, and generally a very unnatural place. Our time in the Klamaths was a perfect antidote for this. We visited an elk lick and walked on the deeply worn trails they made on their daily rounds; the scent of the herd was heavy and we could hear the cows calling in the distance. We cautiously investigated a rattlesnake, which seemed more intent on making a ruckus than actually striking. And then of course, there was the bear.
My oldest had asked to visit the elk lick at dusk, but we found it deserted. We continued to a meadow beyond, and as we squinted into the failing light, a dark shaped detached itself from the background. It was a black bear, and a good-sized one too. We watched it amble about, eating from abandoned pear trees. Though mosquitoes were settling all over us, I whispered that if we didn’t move, we’d be able to keep watching the bear. Still it didn’t notice us, and started walking on the trail that headed our way. I usually see bears running away when I’m driving. Never had I been in such a situation! When it got to about 20 meters from us, I decided to clear my throat, at which point it stood up on its hind legs, clearly confused (I was realizing what terrible eyesight they have!), and finally decided to go another way. For my son’s first bear encounter, this was the encounter of a lifetime!
So, it was a pretty ideal field-season-while-parenting, with science done and magical experiences all around. I almost wish there were some crises here and there to add nuance. Of course, I was incredibly fortunate that my partner was willing and able to come along so I didn’t have to be away from my loved ones for all this time. Not many people are this lucky. My protocol was also perfect since I started bird counts before dawn and wrapped up by noon, leaving the rest of the day to hang out with the family. If my protocol had been more demanding or required night-time surveys for example, this would have been difficult to reconcile with kids’ rhythms. It would have been challenging too if we’d had to move every day or every few days; the kids took some time to get used to a new place and would have been stressed by frequent moves (not to mention the logistics of packing and unpacking everything).
On the other hand, I think that part of the success was in fact not in spite of parenting but because of it. Of course, having kids inevitably means I can’t spend as much time on my work as non-parents. But I have learned to be better organized to make up for this, which is common for parents in academia (see for example my friend Jamiella Brooks’ essay on how to finish your dissertation while parenting: https://ideasonfire.net/dissertating-while-parenting/). I had backups for all my equipment, checklists, and built-in flexibility in my schedule. And I had excellent interns who were very understanding about my family needs. By the end of the field season, we were all already looking forward to doing this again next year!
The bear really did it for me. Or was it the rattlesnake? Or maybe the daily menagerie of lizards, toads and garter snakes my 5-year-old held up happily for our inspection. I thought, “this is what field research while parenting should look like!”
My partner Rosemary, our two children (5 and 2) and myself were camping in the Klamath Mountains of Northern California for 6 weeks while I gathered data on the effect of wildfires on forest life. The Klamaths are easily the most remote area on the Pacific coast of the United States, typically ignored even by tourists, though the Pacific Crest Trail begrudgingly does a westerly detour through the high country. A few communities along the rushing Salmon River, relicts of the gold rush, were never connected to the grid. Bigfoot is everywhere. Tribal cultures, including the Karuk, Hoopa and Yurok, nurture a vibrant connection to ancestral lands marked everywhere by millennia of traditional care, from tanoak and sugar pine orchards to ancient village sites and spiritual trails.
The Klamaths are also exceedingly steep, poison oak is ubiquitous, mosquitoes are locally overwhelming and temperatures in summer soar to the three digits. So would our offspring take to living in this rugged place for half the summer, or would they be miserable? Would we all be miserable in this paradise? The last time we camped, we’d only gone a couple of days before hearing the tireless refrain of “I want to go home!”
This summer’s research was going to be critical to my PhD project. Though I have years of field experience, I had never organized a field season from scratch. I was also going to bring along two interns, whose needs I would have to attend to in addition to my family’s. Wanting to avoid last minute scrambles, I started organizing months in advance, including making packing lists, storing research and camping gear in plastic tubs for the day it would be needed, and really dialing in my protocol to avoid hang-ups. I designed my schedule to have a reasonable daily load so I could spend time with my family and also so I could be flexible if changes needed to be made in the field.
When we arrived at our destination, we had the entire campground to ourselves. We quickly investigated river access, which would turn out to be a key ingredient in spending a happy summer in the wilderness. Rosemary would go to the river with the kids every morning while I was off doing surveys. When I returned around lunch time, I would join them and sometimes take our oldest on a trip down the river in our inflatable paddle boat (though for all my organizational frenzy I hadn’t actually brought paddles!). Or we would build dams on small tributaries. We waded in search of water life, catching tadpoles, small fish, and, once, a lamprey. We collected dead butterflies and dragonflies and poked at scat piles. We would end our adventures looking for wood for the campfire, which was mostly unnecessary but very entertaining.
The kids were never bored and never complained about camping. They seemed to flourish and settled right in to our new rhythm. They became very relaxed playing and swimming in the river (with life jackets). Our youngest stopped needing diapers. They became experts at identifying poison oak, and no one got it, which was a miracle. Being in nature was relaxing and nurturing, for them and for us.
I love UC Davis as a school, but Davis is flat, surrounded by industrial agriculture, and generally a very unnatural place. Our time in the Klamaths was a perfect antidote for this. We visited an elk lick and walked on the deeply worn trails they made on their daily rounds; the scent of the herd was heavy and we could hear the cows calling in the distance. We cautiously investigated a rattlesnake, which seemed more intent on making a ruckus than actually striking. And then of course, there was the bear.
My oldest had asked to visit the elk lick at dusk, but we found it deserted. We continued to a meadow beyond, and as we squinted into the failing light, a dark shaped detached itself from the background. It was a black bear, and a good-sized one too. We watched it amble about, eating from abandoned pear trees. Though mosquitoes were settling all over us, I whispered that if we didn’t move, we’d be able to keep watching the bear. Still it didn’t notice us, and started walking on the trail that headed our way. I usually see bears running away when I’m driving. Never had I been in such a situation! When it got to about 20 meters from us, I decided to clear my throat, at which point it stood up on its hind legs, clearly confused (I was realizing what terrible eyesight they have!), and finally decided to go another way. For my son’s first bear encounter, this was the encounter of a lifetime!
So, it was a pretty ideal field-season-while-parenting, with science done and magical experiences all around. I almost wish there were some crises here and there to add nuance. Of course, I was incredibly fortunate that my partner was willing and able to come along so I didn’t have to be away from my loved ones for all this time. Not many people are this lucky. My protocol was also perfect since I started bird counts before dawn and wrapped up by noon, leaving the rest of the day to hang out with the family. If my protocol had been more demanding or required night-time surveys for example, this would have been difficult to reconcile with kids’ rhythms. It would have been challenging too if we’d had to move every day or every few days; the kids took some time to get used to a new place and would have been stressed by frequent moves (not to mention the logistics of packing and unpacking everything).
On the other hand, I think that part of the success was in fact not in spite of parenting but because of it. Of course, having kids inevitably means I can’t spend as much time on my work as non-parents. But I have learned to be better organized to make up for this, which is common for parents in academia (see for example my friend Jamiella Brooks’ essay on how to finish your dissertation while parenting: https://ideasonfire.net/dissertating-while-parenting/). I had backups for all my equipment, checklists, and built-in flexibility in my schedule. And I had excellent interns who were very understanding about my family needs. By the end of the field season, we were all already looking forward to doing this again next year!
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