Megan Anderson, 2019 AIP/ Society of Rheology History

Biography

SPS Chapter: William Jewell College

I recently graduated from William Jewell College with degrees in Physics and Philosophy. I have been involved with the Society of Physics Students since my first year of college, most recently serving on the SPS National Council and Executive Committee. These opportunities have expanded my appreciation for the people and organizations supporting physicists, and I’m very excited to invest in one of these organizations as an intern with the Society of Rheology this summer.

My research experiences have included Electron Paramagnetic Resonance analysis of tellurium glass systems, Schlieren imaging of fluid instabilities, and philosophical work on the rationality of scientific methodology. Additionally, I spent a year furthering my studies at Oxford University. Outside academics, I’ve enjoyed volunteering with science outreach programs at local elementary schools and with the University of Oxford Museums. In the future, I hope to contribute to the professional scientific community in ways that nurture communication and engagement with people outside that community.

Internship

Host: American Institute of Physics

Project

Abstract

From the creation of plastics to the Digital Revolution, the past century of scientific discovery has impacted society in profound ways. This history is crucial to understanding and appreciating the current state of the physical sciences, and a significant portion of this history is preserved through the American Institute of Physics (AIP) and the AIP member societies. My work this summer has focused on preserving the history of the Society of Rheology, one of the five founding members of AIP, through a project begun by Mikayla Cleaver last summer. I have researched and written biographies on Bingham Medalists, individuals recognized for their outstanding contributions to the field of rheology, and I have worked on public engagement initiatives with both the Society of Rheology and the Niels Bohr Library & Archives. By documenting the faces behind scientific facts, we can learn more about the scientific community and make this information available to future generations.

Final Presentation

Internship Blog

Week One: Defining Variables

One week ago, I flew from Kansas City, MO to Washington, D.C. While I cognitively know that seven days have passed since then, it feels challenging to accurately measure this time (and, thanks to the informal solidarity of my fellow interns and official investigations into the nature of time , I know I’m not alone in this difficulty). The past few days have been full of walking around the city, learning my position within the grid of numbers and letters; socializing, eating, and even kayaking with the other interns; and meeting people engaged with physics in ways I didn’t even know were possible.

Taking my cue from the world of science, I’ve decided to bring some order to my blog posts by first defining the variables in the equation of my summer. . .

Overarching experiment:

Working at the American Institute of Physics as the Society of Rheology History Intern (which means I get to research and write biographies of accomplished scientists, help with outreach projects, and just generally learn how a physics library and professional society function together - yay!!!).

Controls:

A love of physics that is shared by everyone in and related to this internship program.

Also, my fondness for Trader Joe’s, science outreach, museums, tea, and puns (all things that have been present this week!).

Dependent variables (what’s measured/observed):

The interactions among us SPS interns, progress on work projects, personal & professional learning, and extent of exploration in DC.

Independent variable (what’s changing):

Time.

Of course, this post is meant to provide an orientation rather than a comprehensive account. We’ll see how the story unfolds! It doesn’t quite seem fitting to come up with a defined hypothesis, but, between you and me, I’m feeling very excited for what the next couple of months hold.

Week Two: Reading Between the Lines

The metro feels a lot like life right now—always moving, with everyday experiences blurring into patterns. As I begin to feel settled, I don’t have to pay quite so much attention to the map or the announcements.

I can read between the lines.

I spent ten hours commuting to and from work this past week, and I’m spending this post sharing ten of my reflections with you.

1. The escalator doesn’t keep pace with life. You find yourself drawn toward the left side, walking along with the ride. Some might blame this on busyness, but I suspect it’s a quiet rebellion. We order our days around train timetables and bus schedules. We hold tightly to every bit of control we have left.
2. In a sea of conflicting styles, you’ll notice that most people share the same metro mask. It’s a combination of focus and boredom, inviting no attention and asking only for anonymity. I’ve been working on mine, setting aside the Midwestern friendliness I grew up accepting as normal. Some people don’t understand this game. My favorite was the three-year-old sitting in the seat in front of me on Thursday. She squirmed, steeling glances at every person she could spot. We exchanged a smile and it escalated to silly faces. The only time she hid her face was during peek-a-boo. She giggled. I felt less foreign.
3. When traveling during peak times, do not wait until your stop to find the door. The sweet spot is making your way to the door right after people have exited the train at the stop before yours. This way you minimize the annoyance of others on the train and you avoid a stressful adrenaline rush.
4. You’ll notice a variety of stances on a train. The safest plan is a ballet second position or fourth position, both triangular bases that will be strong enough to keep you upright yet flexible enough to adjust for the train’s acceleration and deceleration. Also, keep one hand holding one of the metal bars. You could try to be “cool” and keep both hands on your phone or in your pockets, but who really wants to risk falling down in public?
5. If you find yourself near College Park, you should stop by the Niels Bohr Library and Archives. It is open to the public, holds several incredibly famous books, and has absolutely lovely people. I knew I would like them from the minute they popped popcorn for us at their staff meeting, and they are always helpful when I pop by with questions.
6. Pay attention to the people behind papers; this is the good part. As I’ve been researching and writing biographies for some very accomplished rheologists, I have seen entropy in action, scattering individuals into random accomplishments and various titles. As I condense each life onto a page, I see interests and immigration and industry shape a whole field of academic study. There is power in the story.
7. You should be warned before going into an “acroyoga” class that you are embarking on an extended trust-fall exercise. Jackie (another SPS intern) and I did not realize this before we showed up, and we came out an hour and a half later with a new bond. . . and a renewed dedication to more typical yoga classes. It’s been nice feeling like an active person rather than just a person with an active mind.
8. If you join our intern group for any sort of outing or night in, you’ll soon find yourself in the crossfire of endless jokes amidst topics such as plastic straws, the habitability of Mars, and the utility of eating ice cream. These people are amazing as individuals and absolutely delightful as a group. Friday evening started with burgers at a place down the street, turned into card games and silliness in the dorm, and ended with a midnight run to Captain Cookie. One of the interns brought a friend along, and the friend sat back part of the way through dinner and said, “I am just really impressed by how well you all banter.” These physics people are so much phun.
9. Two mini sofas are not enough seating for 10+ people watching a movie. Two mini sofas with three twin mattresses squeezed around them, on the other hand, work out very well. It’s like a life-sized puzzle you get to do before the evening’s main entertainment has even begun! Bonus points if one of your fellow interns brings a DVD.
10. If you find yourself packed into a living room with your fellow interns watching The Parent Trap on a Saturday night, enjoying each other’s commentary and hearing a couple of them quote certain lines, you might just realize that you’re surrounded by friends. The exact moment the friendships formed is blurry, but the realization is reassuring. You’re moving in the right direction.

Thank you for stopping by to read this.

Week Three: Sitting at the Table

Go on, pull up a seat. The third week of the SPS internship is now in the books, and it’s time for another reflection.

Seat 1: It’s a few minutes past noon at the American Center for Physics, and you’re seated in a sturdy wooden chair on the patio. You pull out your lunch as other SPS interns join, pulling up chairs and even a table. Conversation drifts from work subjects to D&D to philosophical problems. You get up refreshed, and it’s not just because you were outside.

Seat 2: You share your dorm room with someone you met less than a month ago, but you each get your own desk; the space begins to feel a little more like home. A black plastic chair supports you and the swivel base welcomes movement. After all, it welcomed your movement here, didn’t it? Perhaps a room of one’s own is overrated.

Seat 3: SPS takes you on a dinner cruise along the Potomac, and you spend the first half hour or so feeling the boat’s engine buzz into action below your blue-cushioned seat. You order and proceed to eat a three-course meal alongside fellow interns, staff members, and executive committee members. You witness a fiery sunset and discuss new research in quantum computing. You talk and laugh and eventually leave your seat to hit the dance floor for the remainder of the evening. The versatility of this physics group floors you in the best of ways.

Seat 4: Can you hear it? The beautifully sketchy sounds of karaoke on a Friday night! Thank goodness your group got a private room. You’re perched on the velvet couch until it’s your turn to assist with Total Eclipse of the Heart. Next up is Uptown Funk. The funk you felt earlier this week vanishes and you even manage to forget that you’re tired from the week.

Seat 5: You’re moments away from a bit classier of a musical experience on Saturday evening, but the seat feels a lot like the one you sat in last night; you’re sinking into a plush chair just a few rows back from the National Orchestral Institute’s specially-selected orchestra. A Grammy-winning conductor comes on stage and you clap politely. The music begins. Tower, Harbinson, Piston, Gershwin. You voluntarily get up from your chair at the very end, clapping with conviction this time.

Seat 6: Your past professor, a political science expert, invites you to take a seat on one of the five worn chairs in his kitchen/living room. He calls this shoebox ‘home’ for the summer, describing it as “grad school chic,” and he brings an impressive amount of food out of the little kitchen. You begin eating with the three other students there, and the conversation weaves around everything from each person’s tourist experiences to the democratic debate to the possibility of alien civilizations. After dinner, your professor takes everyone on a walking tour to the Capitol Building. He explains the symbolism behind the architecture and tells stories from the past couple hundred years. The buildings just sit there, silently affirming the form of government your country chose not so terribly long ago.

Seat 7: Rewind to a few days earlier. Sit on the laminate wood floor of 211 and smell the tantalizing aromas of macaroni & cheese. It’s the final stage of a cook off! Three of your fellow interns have prepared their versions of the delicacy, and everyone votes. It’s the best kind of Tuesday evening excitement.

Seat 8: You say “yes” to a moonlight jog with fellow interns and are rewarded with a few peaceful minutes sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Feel the cool marble of monument steps supporting you. Perhaps even supporting your country? People stand in 40s clothing at the bottom of the steps and you notice that cameras are keeping them company. You learn that there will soon be a new miniseries on HBO. You stay seated a little longer.

Thank you to SPS for giving us seats at so many tables and with such good company.

Week Four: Preserving the beautiful

“Do you want to see a rainbow?”

A few people drift toward your table, separating themselves ever so slightly from the sea of visitors to Astronomy on the Mall. Parents nudge their kids forward. Adults orbit an arm’s length away. You pass around diffraction glasses and encourage everyone to look through the lenses. Eyes grow wide as cardboard and special plastic transform the evening light into rainbows.

You explain how this is possible thanks to light behaving like a wave. How white light is all the colors put together. How each color is its own kind of wave.

Remember that physics is beautiful even as you use it to remind others of how beautiful the world is. Events like this encourage the community to hold onto knowledge a little bit tighter. Perhaps outreach is a form of preservation.

“Who’s in for dinosaurs?” (source )

Speaking of preservation, there’s a new dinosaur exhibit in the Museum of Natural History. You forgo an ice cream adventure to see these creatures from before the ice age. The fossils are simultaneously impressive and horrifying; some look like they could have been quirky pets while others seem straight out of a science fiction movie. You wander around the cheerful exhibits, stopping to read some of the plaques and comment on some of the specimens (look around, the people watching is quite good too).

Stay with the dinosaurs until the last ten minutes before the museum closes. Run upstairs to see the Hope Diamond up-close. No one else is in the room. The moment feels almost as rare as the diamond itself.

Remember that both a diamond and a fossil can be deemed beautiful. That beauty is not always something you want to put in a display case. That there is more to the world than our human experience. Breathe in the humility mixed with excitement that comes through learning. Pick it up and take it home as a souvenir.

“Nothing is more certainly written in the book of fate than that these people are to be free.” (source )

Take a long walk around the monuments now, steeping yourself in history and seeping into the background of tourist photos. Admire the views. Ignore the scaffold skeletons draped along the skin of the buildings. Aren’t we all works of progress?

Weave around the yells and the selfies to get closer. Read words of liberty. Equality. Truth. Feel them melt the coldness of the marble. Symbols of a commitment to preserve the beautiful.

Remember that not all quotations are created equal. Find the context . Feel the conflict, the discrimination, the pride. Sometimes we forget about the role of ugliness in our beautiful stories. There always has to be an antagonist, even if it’s as elusive as an oppressive power structure. Hope that the antagonists always push us to move forward.

“For a man so accomplished, it is really remarkable that he has absolutely no professional enemies.” (source )

This summer, you’re in the business of storytelling. Your goal is that every Bingham Medalist has an informative, accessible biography by the time the internship ends. Find sources in the stacks. Find more online. Feel gratitude toward the librarians and archivists helping you. As you stitch together the past and the present, admiring research and professional accomplishments, look for the personalities. They hide among the writings of colleagues and jump out to surprise you at the end of articles. See, you’re not just writing about researchers; you’re writing about glacier explorers, horseback riders, and mushroom cultivators.

Notice that the word “polymer” appears no fewer than fifty-seven times a day. Notice how hard it is to learn much about some of these people. Feel a responsibility to them that surprises you.

Remember that history is a human enterprise. That each life makes an impact, however niche it may be. Hope that your search for truth is a process that preserves the beautiful.

Week Five: Going with the Flow

Example 1: Caught in the rush of commuters exiting the metro station? Go with the flow. Sacrifice a bit of your personal bubble for the good of public transportation.

Example 2: Didn’t buy enough groceries for dinner this week? Go with the flow. Try the sandwich place downstairs. Enjoy the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Example 3: Visiting a cupcake shop with fellow interns? Go with the flow. Peek into the display. Notice the allergy-friendly one and prepare to be amazed in a good way.

Example 4: Missing your sisters? Go with the flow. Appreciate the marvels of modern technology with more FaceTime than usual.

Example 5: Did your parents’ friends offer to take you to dinner? Go with the flow. Eat in an old fire station, discussing everything from cooking shows to operas. Walk around lovely Alexandria.

Example 6: Find a place with fun music? Go with the flow. Dance to the beat with your physics friends. Feel happily beat afterwards.

Example 7: Congressional baseball game on Wednesday night? Go with the flow. Watch America’s favorite pastime after your bedtime.

Example 8: Surprised that you’re already halfway through the internship? Go with the flow. Take little detours. Soak in every bit of time you can.

Example 9: Connect with a food scientist through a side project at work? Go with the flow. Learn about a very fun way of applying physics principles.

Example 10: Realize you never fully introduced your internship? Go with the flow. Write a post about that phrase as a metaphor then turn the conversation toward the phrase hidden within a definition. . .

rheology – the science dealing with the deformation and flow of matter

This word comes from the Greek roots rheo- (“flow”) and -logy (“the study of”). Thus, while the day-to-day work I do involves historical research and writing, the scientific content is quite literally about going with the flow!

Until next time ~

Week Six: Flourishing & the Fourth

Enjoy a three-day work week.

Meet more staff members thanks to a company-wide lunch.

Discover honeydew soft-serve sorbet.

Melt along with it as you sit licking your cone in the sunshine.

Soak in the summer air and the company of friends.

Eat remarkably good sushi at a happy hour price.

Learn about research that relates to bubbles.

Bond over knitting.

Accidentally fall asleep during one incredibly relaxing “restorative” yoga pose.

Climb over your embarrassment.

Share an indoor picnic with your SPS crew on Independence Day.

Camp out on the Capitol steps to see the celebratory concert thanks to the Capitol Hill intern.

Get evacuated when the rain gives way to thunder and lightning.

Come back post-rain to hear Carole King, Sesame Street, Lindsey Stirling, and others.

Watch the fireworks even after they hide in a haze of clouds and smoke.

Discover that the metro isn’t all that crowded despite the day’s excitement.

Spent the next three days exploring.

Enjoy meeting new people.

Visit the American Art Museum, National Portrait Gallery, National Museum of the American Indian, and Air & Space Museum.

Make your way to the International Spy Museum and the Zoo.

Walk around with wide eyes but just enough confidence to distinguish yourself from tourists.

Persevere when caught in the rain.

Reflect on how your country’s growing up.

Reflect on how you are growing up.

Trust that today’s growth has purpose; perhaps then you can call it flourishing.

Week 7: Hoping Against Hope

Step into the shoes — or, rather, lab coat —of a scientist. You’re passionate about reality. You deal in facts and figures. You’re allowed the luxury of hope only insofar as it agrees with reason and research.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

The world tends to see you as someone who is objective, neutral, and perhaps even a tad ‘cold’. Though people may never know you or your work, you work in an elevated position; you’re been placed on the pedestal of rationality, sacrificing comfort for the high ideals of scientific knowledge. You can’t help but enjoy your view from up here. You want to live up to it.

But you and I both know that this is not the full picture.

People do not belong on pedestals.

Scientists deal with more than data.

Like it or not, we all have feelings as well as thoughts.

(Believe me or not, we are all better because of it.)

So, sometimes, when no one is looking, you let yourself hope against hope.

Would you like some evidence? (I know, silly question—you’re a scientist, you LOVE evidence with every neuron in your left brain.)

Meet with the one congressman who has his Ph.D. in Physics. He joined the political world hoping against hope. A country is a very difficult thing to manage.

Visit NASA Goddard. Arrive on a day when all the researchers showcase their work. As you bask in the glow of these bright people, see how they hope against hope. The universe is a very large thing to understand.

Eat brunch at a vegan restaurant. Order anything you like since your dairy allergy is inconsequential here. See a food movement that hopes against hope. Animal cruelty and climate change are very complicated issues to address.

Walk around the mall. Spend time with the friends you’ve made this summer. Hope against hope that it will last.

Now take a moment to read the following quote by Dr. Robert Hutchings:

It is difficult to say what is impossible, for the dream of yesterday is the hope of today and the reality of tomorrow.

If these are the thoughts of the “Father of Modern Rocketry,” then maybe hope is more integral to science than we tend to think.

I hope against hope that yesterday’s dreams are worthy of tomorrow’s reality.