This article is Part 3 of a blog series called We Belong Everywhere: Queer Community & Resilience in the Outdoors. Read Part 1 & Part 2!
Queer, Curious, Unstoppable: Community Science & Questioning The World Around You
My name is Richard; I’m a plant ecologist. That means I study how plants and the world interact. Wildfires, invasive species that pop bike tires, rare plants and the animals that depend on them—I live to give voice to the literally voiceless. I love spreading my passion for the natural world with people. So, I work with organizations like the Sierra Club to teach people about plant identification and the ecosystems surrounding us.
I wasn’t always this into plants. My interest in botany has developed over the last decade. But, I have always been a chaotic gay man digging in dirt looking for bugs in a world not built for grubby hands. All these identities make up my science and inform my research. I am going to try to make the argument that your own identity should drive your questions as well.
I grew up in a conservative household in southern California. I didn’t speak until I was 4 years old, and when I did, it was all animals, all the time. It was never a whim for me—I was obsessed. I consumed animal literature like one eats breakfast cereal. I was feral for the wild.
The one wrench in all my plans to become a zookeeper or the next Jane Goodall was when puberty hit and I realized I was gay. It was…rough. I didn’t want to be gay and I thought it was incompatible with my life plans. When I came out to my family as a teenager, my parents did not react well. They struggled with my identity. Now, as an adult man, they want me to live my best life, but that took time. This conflict messed me up quite a bit, and becoming a scientist was put on the back burner as I struggled with my trauma and mental health issues. I spent my early adult life going in and out of drug addiction and homelessness. Once I got sober, animals again took the front stage, arguably saving my life. I had a purpose: to give voice to the organisms that filled me with wonder all those years ago.
I needed an education to become the next Steve Irwin, but more importantly, I needed money. I worked through community college as a dog groomer, and have the stains on my clothes to prove it. But it kept me sober, and it kept me moving towards my goal of becoming a scientist. One thing I picked up along the way, besides Alaskan malamute hair, was a love for iNaturalist, a smartphone app that you can use to identify plants, animals, fungi, and other lifeforms. You can then post what you found on iNaturalist’s website so other folks can verify or disagree with the identification. I used it on my hikes and walked around my community college, and it sped up my passion for organisms other than animals (like plants). I had great professors along the way, not to diminish the effect a good social network can have on your learning journey. Still, I was teaching myself and joining a gigantic online community of other nerds. Little did I know I wasn’t on my journey to becoming a scientist. I already was one. I was doing science: uploading data, exploring my world, and asking questions. iNaturalist helped make me a scientist, and it can help you become one too.
Now, I spread my knowledge to anyone who is willing to learn about plant ecology and iNaturalist and, more broadly, community science. But what is community science? It’s when community members contribute to the data collection, analysis, and formulation, and answering of research questions about the world around them. Community science projects can be about radiation in a nuclear disaster, lead levels in tap water, or the plants and animals in a parcel of land targeted for development against the wishes of many residents. We can be the scientists, regardless of our backgrounds or levels of formal education. Wonder and curiosity about nature are not the exclusive domains of PhD scientists; they can and ought to be everybody's.
I'd argue that queer people especially make for great community scientists. Queer folks, marginalized by a society built against us, are born to fight and question authority. Taking and creating knowledge as our own is our destiny. We could build and grow our own Library of Alexandria; hypothesize a better, fairer, and more beautiful world; boldly push boundaries of knowledge with logic; and begin to restore the damage done by a long-dominant but now teetering heteronormativity. Do you want to become a forager? Start recording the plants in your neighborhood so you can eat them. Do you want to stop your neighbors from cutting down the bird habitat next to your house? Start recording everything about the species and show them what they could be destroying. Want to become a botanist, a zookeeper, or a scientist? Break the closet doors, and take the world's knowledge for yourself.
Why do I want people to use iNaturalist and become community scientists? It enriches science. It gives us more data. Data from community scientists can serve as a bridge between academics in their ivory towers and everyday people concerned about their world and its many diverse inhabitants. It has helped us better document rare species, find new organisms, and even helped in the return and restoration of species struggling to coexist with humans.
Because of this, I teach iNaturalist to as many people as possible. Since moving to Boise, Idaho to become a researcher, I’ve taught high school students, medicine practitioners, older adults, community college and university undergraduates, and even graduate students and professors about the importance of using iNaturalist. One of my favorite audiences is fellow queer folks I've gone out with on Sierra Club-sponsored LGBTQ hikes because empowering queer people with scientific tools enriches our lives. Nature makes us healthier. Knowing your neighbors, whether squirrels or goatheads, is essential for thriving communities! It unites us as gays and scientists.
When you post on iNaturalist and other community science applications and programs, you are a researcher, and maybe you’re also queer. You’re being loud and taking space. You amplify your inquisitive nature, tenacity, and voice to the world. Keep being queer, keep questioning everything, and maybe even come up with a few of your own answers!
About The Author
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Richard (he/him) is a researcher at Boise State University, and when he isn't snapping photos of flowers with his phone, he's thinking about new poems and workers' rights. |