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From Pond Scum To A Pinnacle of Paleoanthropology

CSM Lab

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 John S. Mead  

– Master Science Teacher – 

[dropcap]A[/dropcap]s a Life Science teacher, I have a deep and passionate love for microscopic life (protists in particular), and was able to rig up a primitive camera to my microscope in the late 1990s.

John S. Mead

My students loved these early digital videos that I showed in class, but other than the laborious task of burning many DVDs of them, these videos did not get out of my classroom in any meaningful way and I did not think of sharing them beyond my students. This began to change in 2007, when I created a YouTube account and began to post microscope videos for my students to be able to share with their families. Still, I was effectively blind to the value of YouTube beyond reaching my students at home.

That began to change when I started to get messages from other students and teachers asking me about my videos. As I answered these messages, I began to realize that my videos were USEFUL to others and began to create new videos with the intention that they would find use in schools without microscopes or teachers who were as “weird” as I am about microorganisms. This has grown into a collection of more than 30 MicroSafari videos on my YouTube channel which have been viewed in aggregate more than a million times. Here’s an example of what my students and I enjoy investigating …

My life as a science teacher is also woven deeply into the fabric of my favorite hobby—nature photography. Having grown up with relatives who dabbled in what we’d now call travel photography, I dove whole heartedly into nature photography when a combination of the affordability of digital imaging meshed with a professional development trip to South Africa in 2006. The joy of creating images of nature was powerful, and I soon found myself with a website (www.bluelionphotos.smugmug.com) and began to share my images with friends on my personal Facebook page.

As time passed and I added other locations to my photographic adventures, I began to hear other photographers talk about how they valued the long distance connections they had made on Twitter. To be honest, I had been a Twitter naysayer as I saw that Facebook was good enough for my needs—and besides, I did not know many folks who used Twitter.

Three In Hand

Photos courtesy John S. Mead – Blue Lion Photos

In January of 2011, I took the plunge and created my @BlueLionPhotos twitter account. I quickly realized that Twitter was a very different experience than Facebook. Whereas Facebook was a place where I communicated with friends, family, and folks I know in person, Twitter was a space for encountering new people with similar interests and interacting in short bursts of a focused nature. I learned a lot from my photographic “Tweeps” and slowly began to expand my followings to a more passive observation of educators and scientists.

Encouraged by the response from new people I got to know on Twitter, I started to follow a handful of scientists, and to my surprise, a few even followed me back. By 2012, the stage was unknowingly set for my most significant social media interaction. One that would change my professional life.

Early Man SITR combo pic

Photo courtesy John Mead

By the summer of 2012, I had become aware of the discovery of a new hominin species named Australopithecus sediba in South Africa. Now, ever since I was a boy in the 1970s, I had been enamored with the study of human origins (paleoanthropology). Indeed, the book that served as my “security blanket” as a child was F. Clark Howell’s Early Man. This love of human origins became a part of my life science classes over the years and I have always taught my students the discovery stories of the best-known hominin species as I believe understanding HOW we gain knowledge is critical to a deep understanding of what science itself is.

So, I was well-prepped to teach the science of Australopithecus sediba to my middle-schoolers, but did not have a grasp on its discovery story. As it turned out, one of the scientists I had become friends with on Facebook was Dr. Lee Berger, the discoverer (along with his then 9 year old son, Matthew) of A. sediba.

One night in August, as I was planning my curriculum for the year, I decided to message Dr. Berger to see if he would share A. sediba’s story with my students via email. I thought the worst thing that could happen was he could say “no” and then life would go on. Not only did he respond, but he agreed to participate, and asked for some details about my school. I shared that my school was in Dallas and then Dr. Berger mentioned that he was going to be in Dallas in November visiting friends during a stop on his National Geographic book tour promoting his new work, The Skull in the Rock which detailed the discovery story of (you guessed it) A. sediba!

Upon hearing this great news, I asked if Dr. Berger might be available for a morning visit with my students. I was again surprised when a positive answer ensued. After more conversations and reaching out to our local science museum (the Perot Museum of Nature and Science) we added an evening talk that was open to the public. After a fantastic day with students and families, Dr. Berger shocked me by inviting me to his lab in South Africa to meet and study the fossils of A. sediba in June 2013!

LEE BERGER - MARC0637

Photo Courtesy of Marc Barta

I was completely floored by his generous offer … and then I proceeded to turn him down!

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I promise you that I was really not as crazy as you thought I was at the end of that last sentence. I had already signed a contract to teach a nature photography camp for children during the week Dr. Berger offered. However, in a “lemons to lemonade” moment, the camp changed its plans for that summer and a visit to Dr. Berger’s lab became possible.

WitsLab2013-6207 Karabo Skull

Skull of Australopithecus sediba – Photo courtesy John S. Mead

The week I spent in Johannesburg, South Africa, was an amateur paleoanthropologist’s dream come true. I not only had the chance to see and photograph A. sediba fossils but also had the once-in-a-lifetime chance to hold the actual Taung Child fossil—the first early hominin fossil ever discovered in Africa.

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Me holding the Taung Child skull – Photo by Lee Berger

My initial Facebook conversation with Dr. Berger not only allowed me to see some of the world’s great fossils, but I found myself welcomed by the scientists at the University of the Witwatersrand. Despite not being a tenured university professor or even a PhD, I was treated as one as Berger and his colleagues entertained my questions and went out of their way to show me the nuts and bolts of how their lab worked. This even included a field trip to Malapa, the site where both A. sediba skeletons had been discovered.

More on the philosophy behind my stellar treatment in a near future post—I promise!

JM in Malapa

Standing in the Malapa dig site – Photo by Lee Berger

I returned to Dallas on cloud nine and planned to weave the experience into my classes. Little did I know that on September 13, 2013, two South African cavers, Stephen Tucker and Rick Hunter, would discover hominin bones in the Rising Star Cave mere miles from Malapa.

(11) Steve Tucker and Rick Hunter, two of the cavers who found the Dinaledi Chamber. cc Wits University

Steven Tucker & Rick Hunter – Photo courtesy Wits University

This discovery caused Dr. Berger to launch a full-scale expedition into the bowels of Rising Star, where only the skinniest of scientists could fit. (Take a look here!)

A public Facebook posting helped recruit a team of six highly qualified female scientists who became known as the “Underground Astronauts” and over the course of November 2013 recovered more than 1500 hominin fossils, more than any location in Africa.

(notes from John Hawks)The six excavators smiling at cave entrance

The “Underground Astronauts” – (L to R) Becca Peixotto, Alia Gurtov, Elen Feuerriegel, Marina Elliott, Lindsay Hunter, and Hannah Morris. Photo courtesy John Hawks

Breaking with the tradition of keeping a hominin fossil dig secretive, Berger and his colleagues began to live-tweet the hour-by-hour and minute-by-minute activity of the #RisingStarExpedition. My students and I followed it live with great excitement, which led to me realizing that much of what was being tweeted would be lost to cyberspace for those who did not use Twitter. At the happy expense of late nights, I began a daily video review of tweets from Rising Star so that they could be easily shared with students and other interested parties.

My “Twitter Play by Play” (http://bluelionphotos.blogspot.com/2013/11/rising-star-expedition.html) as it came to be known, allowed thousands of students and teachers to follow along from the start of the expedition even if they found out about it months later. It now serves as a primary source for interested parties wanting to dig deep.

As Berger’s team worked to identify and study the fossils during 2014, I was able, thanks to social media, to build upon the relationships I had made online as well as in South Africa during my visit. This led to an in-person visit from underground astronaut Lindsay Hunter in January and a second visit from Dr. Berger in November 2014.

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The Hill Foundation Exploration Team near the Rising Star Cave. Photo courtesy John S. Mead

Based on my work with the Twitter play-by-play project, I received an invite to return to South Africa in July 2015 to visit the Rising Star cave and see the as-yet-unnamed fossils in person. This time I did not refuse!

My 2015 visit mirrored my first visit in being welcomed by the entire team as a team member myself. Indeed, they understood and appreciated that a classroom teacher could help the world understand this mysterious new hominin.

The highlight of the visit was having the chance to spend time at the cave and interview all members of the newly formed Hill Foundation Exploration team as well as the senior scientists. These interviews ranged from 10 to 30 minutes and allowed the story of this discovery to be told to students and teachers in a depth difficult to find in mainstream media. They remain on my blog (http://bluelionphotos.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-rising-star-interviews.html) and my YouTube channel, and are available for anyone eager to explore the Rising Star story in more detail.

Wits-8022 Mead_Berger

Dr. Berger and me in the Cradle of Humankind – Photo by Julie Lesnik

When I left South Africa in 2015, I was sworn to silence until the publishing embargo broke with the official announcement. Just wait to see how the news exploded in my next post!

… By the way, my students will tell you I LOVE cliffhangers!

Learn more about the Blue Lion Blog | Cover Image by Pexels from Pixabay | CC0 Creative Commons 

CivicSciTimes - Stories in Science

Unexpected Stories and Spindle Mistakes: Discovering that Wild-type Cells are Full of Surprises

CSM Lab

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Natalie Nannas

Natalie Nannas is an Associate Professor of Biology at Hamilton College in Clinton, NY. She teaches courses in genetics, molecular biology, and bioethics. Dr. Nannas graduated from Grinnell College with bachelor’s degrees in biological chemistry and French. She received her Master’s and PhD from Harvard University in molecular biology and genetics. Dr. Nannas conducted her postdoctoral research at the University of Georgia where she won a National Science Foundation Plant Genome Postdoctoral Fellowship. At Hamilton College, Dr. Nannas enjoys teaching and sharing her passion for microscopy with her undergraduate research students. When not glued to a microscope, she loves spending time with her husband and two daughters. The narrative below by Natalie Nannas captures the human stories behind the science from a 2022 paper titled “Frequent spindle errors require structural rearrangement to complete meiosis in Zea mays” which was published by her group in 2022 in the International Journal of Molecular Sciences.

Science never works out the way we plan. As scientists, we ask questions, hypothesize and outline our goals … then reality of science occurs. The reality of science is often full of failed controls, endless troubleshooting, and sometimes strange findings that lead us in new and unpredictable directions. Our publications give the impression that we planned these scientific journeys from the beginning and do not tell the human side of the process with all of its twists and turns, dead-ends and U-turns. I want to tell you the real story behind my first publication as a faculty member with my own lab. It did not go as planned due to the COVID-19 pandemic. My lab was shut down in the middle of our investigation, and my students and I were unable to generate new data. In the beginning, it seemed like we were stranded with only control data and no story to tell, but the time away from the lab allowed us to spend more time looking carefully at wild-type cells. What seemed like a dead-end suddenly became its own story when we found something unexpected hiding within microscopy movies. Our wild-type cells were making mistakes, attempting fixes and changing directions, just like we do as scientists.

My scientific journey began with flickering green lights and a microscope (you can read more about it here). As an undergraduate, I was mesmerized by the beauty of watching living cells shuffle fluorescently labeled proteins throughout their cytoplasm. I followed this passion for microscopy into my doctoral dissertation research at Harvard University where I investigated how yeast cells build the machinery needed to pull their chromosomes apart. This machinery is a dynamic collection of long protein tubes called microtubules and other organizing proteins that help move and shuffle microtubules. I loved watching the delicate dance of chromosomes interacting with microtubules of the spindle, and I wanted to continue studying this process in my postdoctoral studies.

During postdoctoral studies at the University of Georgia, I won a fellowship from the National Science Foundation to develop a new technique in microscopy. No one had ever watched plants building their spindles in meiosis, the specialized cell division that produces egg and sperm. Other scientists had performed beautiful microscopy studies observing how mitotic spindles function inside of plant cells, but due to the technical challenges, no one had ever observed live plant cells building spindles in meiosis. I was thrilled to take on this challenge by using version of maize that had fluorescently labeled tubulin, the protein that makes up microtubules of the spindle. With this line of maize, spindles would glow fluorescent green, allowing me to image if only I could extract the meiotic cells.

Dr. Natalie Nannas

We were so busy collecting data and prepping for our mutant studies that we never really took time to analyze the wild-type cells.

After almost a year spent dissecting maize plants, I finally managed to develop a method to isolate these tiny cells and keep them alive in a growth media long enough to image them. This new method of live imaging was going to serve as the foundation of my new lab at Hamilton College, a primarily undergraduate institution. With my students, I planned to investigate the pathways governed spindle assembly. Most animal mitotic cells have a structure called a centrosome that dictates how spindles are formed; however, female animal meiotic cells lack these structures and must use other pathways to direct spindle assembly. Plants also lack centrosomes, and I wanted to inhibit these known animal pathways in our plant live imaging system.

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As I set up my lab, my students and I collected live movies of wild-type maize cells building their spindles. I told my students and myself that these movies were not the main event, they were just the control cells so we would have a baseline comparison for our experimental conditions. We were so busy collecting data and prepping for our mutant studies that we never really took the time to analyze the wild-type cells. At the surface level, they built spindles and segregated chromosomes in a generally expected amount of time, so we focused on preparing for our upcoming experiments…. then March 2020 occurred.

The pandemic forced us to slow down and look more carefully at our wild-type data, and I am grateful for the detour.

My students headed home for spring break with a warning that there may be a delay in coming back to campus due to the spread of COVID-19. None of us were prepared for the shutdown that followed. Like many colleges and universities, our campus was closed for the remainder of the spring 2020 semester and the summer of 2020. My students and I began meeting on Zoom, trying to make a new plan for our research. The only data we had to work with were the microscopy of wild-type maize cells, so we decided to spend time digging more deeply into these movies. Originally, we had only measured the total time it took to build a spindle as it would be a baseline for comparison to our mutants. We had not looked carefully at any of the intermediate time points in the assembly process. When my students looked more closely at our movies, they discovered that wild-type cells built an incorrectly shaped spindle over 60% of the time!

We found that maize meiotic cells often built spindles with three poles instead of two, and they had to actively rearrange their spindle structure to correct this mistake. We also found that in these cells, there was a delay in meiosis as cells refused to progress until this correction had been made. This is an exciting discovery as it showed that plants are error-prone in their spindle assembly, much like human female meiotic cells. Our findings also suggested that meiotic cells were monitoring their spindle shape when determining if they should move forward in meiosis. Previous work has shown that cells monitor the attachment of chromosomes to the spindle to make this decision, but our work adds a new dimension, showing that they also monitor spindle shape. As we continued to analyze our videos, we also learned that cells corrected their spindle morphology in a predictable way. They always collapsed the two poles that were closest together, creating a single pole and resulting in a correct bipolar spindle.

The image shows the first page of the paper which can be accessed here.

My students and I had begun our scientific journey planning to breeze over wild-type cells, moving on to what we envisioned would be a more exciting story of spindle mutants. The pandemic forced us to slow down and look more carefully at our wild-type data, and I am grateful for the detour. I rediscovered my love of closely watching flickering green fluorescent lights, the dance of microtubules sliding into place or making missteps and shuffling into new arrangements. Watching life attempt a complicated process, make mistakes, and try again, is a lesson that never grows old. It reminds me that our scientific journeys are just the same, they start in one direction but are fluid and constantly changing, and hopefully, they end with a functional spindle!

Read the Published Paper

Weiss, J.D., McVey, S.L., Stinebaugh, S.E., Sullivan, C.F., Dawe, R.K., and N.J. Nannas. 2022. Frequent spindle errors require structural rearrangement to complete meiosis in Zea maysInternational Journal of Molecular Sciences, 23 (8):4293–4312.

ABOUT: Stories in Science is a special series on the Civic Science Times. The main aim is to document the first-hand accounts of the human stories behind the science being published by scientists around the world. Such stories are an important element behind the civic nature of science.

SUBMISSION: Click here to access the story guidelines and submission portal. Please note that not all stories are accepted for publication. After submission, we will let you know whether we have selected the story for the review process.

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