Am I a Woman of Science?
I’m a creature of routines.
Every morning, I wake up at 6:00 am. I make my breakfast and lunch, clean my dishes (hopefully), change into work clothes, and head to my shuttle. During my walk to the shuttle stop, I almost always listen to a podcast.
These podcasts cover a few topics: self-improvement/business development, functional medicine, and analyses of bad movies.
On my shuttle ride, I pull out a book before tucking my backpack beneath the seat in front of me.
I’ve realized that these books tend to be centered around science or history.
Recently, I read a book that used physics to explain business principles and why once-successful companies fail. Currently, I’m reading about sleep and the studies that have been done on this topic.
This morning, as I read about the importance of REM in developing fetuses, I stopped to ponder something.
Growing up, I hated science. Now, I’m fascinated by the data and insights of this subject matter. So much so, I’m finding it hard to pick up the fiction book that I also bought.
When did the switch flip? Why did I hate science so much in the first place?
I’ve come to a couple of conclusions:
External Blame:
As a child, I remember learning about two “sides” of the brain. The right vs. the left side. I was told that if I was “right-brained,” that meant that I was more creative. The left side was all about math and science and logic.
As someone who loved to draw, write, perform skits, and who preferred big picture ideas to small details, I knew which category I fell into. I was definitely a right-brainer.
Which, of course, meant that I couldn’t like any of that left-brained stuff.
Though this theory was later disproved, I think that somehow it stuck with me. Subconsciously, I did not believe that I could be both artistic and analytical.
2. Internal Blame:
My abhorrence towards math and science was solidified in school. First, with a seventh-grade science project in which my entire experiment centered around growing plants. My idea was to see if Naupaka, a plant found both in the mountains and at the beaches, could be transplanted to the other’s environment or sustained in a combination of soil from both locales.
There were some serious problems with this:
I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned. Including cacti. (I just can’t keep green things alive).
I had no idea what I was doing. Somehow, I missed the lesson about creating the control and variant groups, so I was just throwing plants in soils and hoping for “results.”
Naupaka grows at the beach. When I was at the beach, I really just wanted to go swimming.
The reason I’d chosen this plant was because I loved the legend surrounding it. The flowers on a Naupaka plant are in-half. They do not complete a full-circle. The legend says that this is because these plants were not always plants. They were once lovers who were separated (one to the beach and one to the mountains), cursed to be apart forever. Because of this, they only grow one-half of a flower. They are only complete when you place the two halves together.
I, mean, seriously! With a legend like that, who would want to find out the scientific reasoning behind why they grow in separate locations?? FAR less romantic and far less interesting to a seventh grader.
Then there were the math problems. I would routinely receive bad grades on math tests. This made sense. I was bad at math. I was right brained.
However, looking back, I realize that it wasn’t exactly math that was getting in my way. Reviewing the answers and what I had done wrong, it’d always come down to the fact that I’d never read the word problems all the way through.
This is a problem that extends far beyond the categorization of STEM subjects and the arts.
I rush everything.
I’ve always done this, have always suffered the consequences, yet have never learned to fix my behavior.
What’s the definition of a crazy person, again? Someone who does the same thing and gets the same result, yet hopes to see different outcomes…
I guess you can call me a product of our generation. After the first sentence or two of a word problem, my attention was already onto the next step. (Yet here I am writing a multi-paragraph blog post and expecting you all to read it).
So when did things change?
In college, I chose to take an environmental chemistry class in my senior year. I remember truly comprehending how these numbers weren’t just numbers, but could actually show the effects we were having on the environment.
I guess it gave me something to care about.
As someone who believed that she was Pocahontas far past the appropriate age for make-believe, I truly felt that every rock, tree, and creature has a heart, has a spirit, has a name. Still do.
[Editor’s Note: I got my 23&Me results back and I’m 0.7% Native American, so my Pocahontas dreams live on!]
Then there was the interest in functional medicine. How the gut and the liver played a key role in our health and happiness. This really struck a cord with me. When I realized that there were scientific reasons why my stomach hurt [causing instances during which I’d have to run red lights to get to a sketchy park bathroom] and that my bouts of deep melancholy might have to do with my digestion, I became fascinated.
Finally, I think that my interest in these topics grew as I matured (not that I’m particularly mature right now, but you know what I mean).
As my own world became more grounded in reality (as opposed to my childhood which was spent creating mystical creatures in my imagination and pretending I was a selkie at friend’s pool parties), my interest in non-fiction and science increased. I began to live in our world, so why not learn more about it.
So where does this leave me now?
I’m no longer conflicted over my interest in both science and creativity. I think there’s a power to both and I think they can live together in my mind and heart.
I like to use my creativity to bring magic into my life, to continue to be awed by this world as opposed to just seeing it as carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen.
I use science to understand how to improve myself, my work, and my relationships.
However, I still rush things. So, I’m working on that. We’ll see if that can change or if I truly am a crazy person.
I don’t think it would surprise any of us if the answer to that question is a resounding, “yes!”
