The Power of Collaboration

I miss my new family. Don’t get me wrong—I love my family at home very much. This adventure would not have been possible without the support of my wife and daughter. But I also miss the new family I found in the Arctic. I traveled north to conduct field research, to participate in a science

We started Sunday with a team ritual: reading poems aloud. Some were fun, some serious, all genuine. Afterward came “call-outs,” where team members recognized each other’s efforts, followed by a weather update—crucial for planning fieldwork in the Arctic. These routines, carried out without fuss, reflected how much intention goes into maintaining a strong team culture.

“Do you think they do delivery?” Aleksey asks with a grin as he looks back at our last boxes of cookies.  For the past nine days, we’ve been camped out in a Reindeer police cabin in the Varanger Peninsula in northeastern Norway.  This is our first cool evening of the trip, and the mosquito net-wrapped windows are coated with what we’ve been calling “yr,” the Norwegian word for mist. 

I thought I had seen all of the colors of blue before my trip to the Far North. After all, I teach about the electromagnetic spectrum and the active and passive sensors that scientists use to understand our changing planet. And yet. There were blues in Kalaallit Nunaat that I had never seen before. While photographs don’t really capture the vibrancy of the colors, or the feeling of being there, they are a starting point for conveying what I mean.

Our plane glides through the Endicott Mountains of the Brooks Range as we make our final descent into Anaqtuuvak. Accessible only by plane, Anaktuvuk Pass (“the place of caribou droppings”) is located 250 miles northwest of Fairbanks and is home to the only community of inland Iñupiat, Nunamiut, people [1]. Below, icy blue glaciers feed into a winding network of streams that snake through dense, green tundra and low-lying willows that line the banks of the Anaktuvuk River. From the air, the tundra is a verdant forest, but once on the ground the trees and shrubbery are no taller than 5-6 feet. The village stands out like a colorful flower within the greenery, blooming into view as we enter the valley. In Anaktuvuk, the roots of plants and people alike extend down into permafrost, the lifeblood of the ecosystem and holder of history. 

As a high school science teacher, I’m always looking for ways to inspire my students with real-world science and deepen their understanding of our planet. The PolarSTEAM Educator Fellowship has been an extraordinary opportunity to merge my passion for polar environments with my teaching. Through this year-long virtual collaboration with T.J. Fudge, a research scientist at the University of Washington, I’ve been immersed in cutting-edge research on ice cores, allowing me to bring current polar science research to my students.