April 2020 marks the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. Organizations around the world have commemorated the occasion by participating in the global Earth Optimism movement — an initiative spearheaded by the Smithsonian to “turn the conservation conversation from doom and gloom to optimism and opportunity”.

Throughout 2020, the Biodiversity Heritage Library (BHL) and our partners are joining the movement by sharing conservation success stories from and made possible by the BHL collection. Follow our blog for conservation stories — past and present — and visit our website for more information and to explore our Earth Optimism book collection.

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Thoreau the writer.  Thoreau the philosopher.  Thoreau the naturalist.  Thoreau the citizen.

The myriad of Henry David Thoreau’s titles demonstrates the fusion of interests that propelled his path toward becoming one of the key naturalist figures in history. Classic works like Walden and Civil Disobedience brought Thoreau literary renown as he proclaimed the philosophies of Transcendentalism and environmentalism. As a naturalist, his records of field specimens amassed in journals both while living at Walden Pond and long after. Though praised for his place in the American literary canon, he also made significant contributions to the scientific community. His field notes and data are now helping scientists learn more about species’ resilience, the effects of climate change, and the historical landscape of New England.

Thoreau’s identities are interdependent. Without his grace with words, little attention might be devoted to his findings and philosophies. If he had not had a passion for nature and study, he might never have gone to Walden Pond in the first place. Yet, it is not simply living and surviving at Walden Pond that makes Thoreau a great naturalist. His immersion in nature throughout New England and the relationships he formed with members of the Penobscot Nation in Maine sculpted his understanding and passion for the ecosystem.

A cove at Walden Pond where Thoreau lived 1845-1847. Miller-Rushing, Abraham J., and Richard B. Primack. “The Impact of Climate Change on the Flora of Thoreau’s Concord.” Arnoldia 66, no. 3. 2009.  Contributed in BHL by Smithsonian Libraries with permission from The Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University. CC-BY-NC-SA.

Blending art and science

Thoreau lived alone at Walden Pond outside the town of Concord, Massachusetts from 1845-1847. He practiced self-reliance by building shelter, farming, fishing and spending long hours in observation of his surroundings. Thoreau proves himself dedicated to his task of environmental study at all times, even during social hours with friends like writer Ralph Waldo Emerson. Thanks to Emerson’s Biographical Sketch of Thoreau, we learn that when the two went walking:

“… [Thoreau] carried an old music-book to press plants; in his pocket, his diary and pencil, a spy-glass for birds, microscope, jack-knife, and twine. He wore a straw hat, stout shoes, strong gray trousers to brave shrub-oaks and smilax, and to climb a tree for a hawk’s or a squirrel’s nest. He waded into the pool for the water-plants, and his strong legs were no insignificant part of his armor.” (Biographical Sketch of Thoreau, 20)

Thoreau’s book Notes on New England Birds goes on to showcase the very data he collected on such walks (maybe even with Emerson in tow!). His trademark lyricism is reflected in his field notes, such as this observation of a red-winged blackbird’s nest:

“What Champollion can translate the hieroglyphics on these eggs? It is always writing of the same character, though much diversified. While the bird picks up the material and lays the egg, who determines the style of the marking? When you approach, away dashes the dark mother, betraying her nest, and then chatters her anxiety from a neighboring bush…” (Notes on New England Birds, 251)

While the text maintains his melodious tone, it actually serves as critical data for the first records of animals in the area. For each of the birds, Thoreau records incremented updates over many years, illustrating changes in behaviors and migration. His notes reveal much more than a studious rigor, illuminating the true joy he experienced as a participant in nature. Thoreau takes an anthropomorphic approach to his notes on the birds, personifying each creature as an individual entity representative of its greater species:

“The loon comes in the fall to sail and bathe in the pond, making the woods ring with its wild laughter in the early morning…” (Notes on New England Birds, 3)

In Catalogue of Herbarium of Henry D. Thoreau, we see a less aesthetic side to his data collection. These handwritten notes on specimens from Thoreau’s herbarium show methodical organization and notes on each plant — Latin names and all. According to the Thoreau Society, he studied botany when he was at the Concord Academy and went on to collect about 900 plant specimens to dry and add to his herbarium. Through these two data sets, we see Thoreau’s scholastic pendulum swing between the art and science, emphasizing the multifaceted nature of his purpose.

A page of Thoreau’s handwritten notes from the catalogue of his herbarium. Thoreau, Henry David. Catalogue of the Herbarium of Henry D. Thoreau, Bequeathed to Boston Society of Natural History. Contributed in BHL by Harvard University Botany Libraries.

Data that lives on

While Thoreau’s herculean efforts set precedents for the fields of biology and botany, his data itself remains relevant to current research. Works by other authors exemplify his contributions to modern science, such as the 1974 publication by Richard Jefferson Eaton entitled A Flora of Concord. This book documents the plants and ferns that grew naturally in Concord from Thoreau’s time to present day. Without Thoreau’s data on flora and animals, scientists would not have access to such an extensive look at species’ respective survivals and declines over time.

The detail of Thoreau’s field journals has provided scientists with evidence that allow them to evaluate changes in animal and plant behavior over a wide span of time. “The Impact of Climate Change on the Flora of Thoreau’s Concord“, by Abraham J. Miller-Rushing and Richard B. Primack, boasts that Concord flora is “one of the best-documented floras in the country,” in thanks to the initial work of Thoreau along with another local, Alfred Hosmer. Since 1830, the floras have been inventoried five times, serving as an immense case study of the effects of a changing habitat, climate, topography, and other factors on native plants.

Britton’s violet (Viola brittoniana) is one of many wildflowers native to Concord. Miller-Rushing, Abraham J., and Richard B. Primack. “The Impact of Climate Change on the Flora of Thoreau’s Concord.” Arnoldia 66, no. 3. 2009.  Contributed in BHL by Smithsonian Libraries with permission from The Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University. CC-BY-NC-SA.

The painstaking work that Thoreau endured is emphasized by his commitment to tracking plants even through the brutal New England winters. Miller-Rushing and Primack note: “From 1852 to 1858, he hiked around Concord and made regular observations of the first flowering times of over 500 different species of plants in an effort to create a calendar of the natural events in Concord.” Thoreau and Hosmer documented plant occurrences as well as flowering and fruiting times, which have sensitive biological responses to alterations in climate. Their catalogs are allowing scientists to examine how and why certain species respond differently to changes in environment and compare the findings in Concord with those in other parts of the world. Such evidence provides a case study into the effects of climate change and loss of natural habitat on organisms’ behavior and survival.

The Penobscot Nation and Thoreau

Other books by Thoreau include information on the topography of New England infused with introspective narratives, such as Cape Cod and The Maine Woods. The Maine Woods documents Thoreau’s time spent with people of the Penobscot Nation, now one of Maine’s tribal governments. His time in Maine marks a formative period in his growth not only as a scientist but as a champion of the environment.

According to the Penobscot Nation’s Cultural & Historic Preservation Department, Thoreau did not always have a sincere respect for Native American culture. He was interested in Native Americans, but thought they were on the decline, as did most of society at the time. Starting in 1846, Thoreau made three trips to Maine and became increasingly well-acquainted with the Penobscot Nation. While canoeing with tribe members Joseph Attean (sometimes spelled Aitteon) (1829-1870) and Joseph Polis (1809-1884) as guides, Thoreau came to know Native American people as individuals and teachers, rather than as a fascination he had held since youth.

Attean, the last hereditary and first elected Chief of the Penobscot Nation, guided Thoreau on his second trip through Maine. Attean helped him develop more respect for the significance of Penobscot culture, though Thoreau still held on to lingering prejudices and stereotypes about Native Americans. Polis worked as the guide on his final trip. A Penobscot leader and representative for the tribe in official state and federal business, Polis expanded Thoreau’s worldview while bestowing on him an invaluable education on the land. Thoreau’s appreciation for the Penobscot Nation seemed to solidify thanks to his time with Polis. Thoreau describes a conversation while canoeing with Polis, writing:

“I told him that in this voyage I would tell him all I knew, and he should tell me all he knew, to which he readily agreed.” (The Maine Woods, 172)

We cannot fully embrace Thoreau’s contribution to science without honoring the guidance that Attean and Polis provided both in his scientific and spiritual journey. Thoreau’s maturation is evident in The Maine Woods and integral to our understanding of his impact on environmentalism. Thoreau’s relationships with Attean and Polis advanced his knowledge of Maine’s landscape and his intimacy with nature. He acknowledges their tribe’s expertise and connection to the land, saying:

“Nature must have made a thousand revelations to them which are still secrets to us.” (The Maine Woods, 185)

The Penobscot River in Maine. Maine Office of Tourism. “Penobscot River.”

While Walden may be Thoreau’s most famous work, The Maine Woods is the culmination of his identities at their prime. We see Thoreau’s ability to relate not only with nature, but with other people and cultures. For a man who chose to live in the woods for two years, Thoreau seemed to maintain a desire to engage with those around him throughout his life. His relationships with people like Emerson, Attean, and Polis take Thoreau out of the context of his achievements and reveal a person who sought genuine connection with people and the environment.

Thoreau’s scientific contributions and the ways in which they helped him grow in cultural awareness illustrate the importance of environmental research. The more Thoreau learned about his ecosystem, the more he fell in love with it and could show others how to develop a similar appreciation. The environment is still benefiting from Thoreau’s work today, as his data helps to advance research and his reflections motivate people to care for the earth as he did. A literary and scientific reading of Thoreau’s collection allows us to discover not only the effort behind his achievements, but the impetus for his life’s work.

References and Further Reading

Eaton, Richard Jefferson. A Flora of Concord. Series Publication: Museum of Comparative Zoology 4. Cambridge: Museum of Comparative Zoology: Harvard University, 1974.

Kucich, John J. “Lost in the Maine Woods: Henry David Thoreau, Joseph Nicolar, and the Penobscot World.” The Concord Saunterer 19/20 (2011): 22-52. Accessed July 9, 2020. www.jstor.org/stable/23395210.

Miller-Rushing, Abraham J., and Richard B. Primack. “The Impact of Climate Change on the Flora of Thoreau’s Concord.” Arnoldia 66, no. 3 (2009): 2–9.

Penobscot Cultural and Historic Preservation. “Historic Preservation.” Accessed February 8, 2020. http://www.penobscotculture.com/.

Schneider, Richard J. “Life and Legacy: Thoreau’s Life.” The Thoreau Society. Accessed February 8, 2020. http://thoreausociety.org/life-legacy.

Thoreau, Henry David. Catalogue of the Herbarium of Henry D. Thoreau, Bequeathed to Boston Society of Natural History, n.d.

Thoreau, Henry David. Notes on New England Birds. Edited by Francis H. Allen. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1910.

Thoreau, Henry David. The Maine Woods. Edited by Sophia E. Thoreau and William Ellery Channing. Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1864.

Thoreau, Henry David, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. The Succession of Forest Trees, and Wild Apples, with a Biographical Sketch of Thoreau. The Riverside Literature Series 27. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1887.

April 2020 marks the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. Organizations around the world have commemorated the occasion by participating in the global Earth Optimism movement — an initiative spearheaded by the Smithsonian to “turn the conservation conversation from doom and gloom to optimism and opportunity”.

Throughout 2020, the Biodiversity Heritage Library (BHL) and our partners are joining the movement by sharing conservation success stories from and made possible by the BHL collection. Follow our blog for conservation stories — past and present — and visit our website for more information and to explore our Earth Optimism book collection.

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“Nature, nevertheless, is the great teacher to which the artist who would hope to imitate her, however crudely, must ever turn for instruction and for inspiration.”

-Frederick Law Olmsted, Editorial: “Foreign Plants and American Scenery” in Garden and Forest 1 (1888)

Considered the father of American landscape architecture, Frederick Law Olmsted co-designed many of the most well-known urban parks and landscapes in the United States in partnership with Calvert Vaux (Wikipedia). As Adam Gopnik wrote in The New Yorker, “Was there a patch of grass in nineteenth-century America that he didn’t design? Stanford, Prospect Park, and the Biltmore Estate, in North Carolina; the space around the United States Capitol and preservation plans for Niagara Falls and Yosemite.” In addition to his impressive accomplishments in landscape architecture, including seventeen large urban parks across the United States — most notably Central Park, he was also a journalist, abolitionist, gentleman farmer, and conservationist (Ranney, 3).

Olmsted’s genius was perfectly matched to the age in which he lived: “Olmsted lived from 1822 to 1903, a life which spanned the transformation of America from an agricultural nation of ten million people to an industrial one of seventy-five million. At a time when the frontier was closing and Americans were moving to the cities, Olmsted believed that nature had a controlling effect on man’s behavior. So he undertook in the course of a long career to save nature or recreate it for new industrial conditions” (Ranney, 3).

Born in Hartford, Connecticut to a dry goods merchant, Olmsted attended Yale University for one semester before acquiring a farm on Staten Island, which he eventually referred to as Tosomock; the author Witold Rybczynski speculates, “I have been unable to identify the source of Tosomock. Perhaps it is a combination of ‘toss’ and ‘amok,’ which would mean ‘flinging oneself headlong,’ a good characterization of Olmsted’s frame of mind” (Rybczynski, 77).

Olmsted, Frederick Law. Forty Years of Landscape Architecture; being the Professional Papers of Frederick Law Olmsted, Senior. 1922-28. Contributed in BHL from the University of California Libraries.

In 1850, at the age of twenty-eight, Olmsted traveled to England and wrote a book about farming methods there entitled Walks and Talks of an American Farmer in England (Gopnik). In a letter to his father asking for permission to accompany his brothers on the trip, which would last months, he is both concerned with appearances — he’d been “accused of irresponsiblity” and instability in the past — as well as leaving the farm untended that long. In a lengthy, impassioned letter “that would be almost comical were it not also touching,” he confesses, “I exceedingly fear my dangerous liability to enthusiasm, and I mean to guard against it with my mind in the future” (Rybczynski, 84).  Ultimately, this tour of England’s parks shaped Olmsted’s vision of landscape design (Foderaro).

Farm implement from Frederick Law Olmsted’s Walks and Talks of an American Farmer in England. 1852. Contributed in BHL from the University of California Libraries.

Olmsted’s ideals and principles regarding nature and its benefits for the human condition were similarly applied in his plans for public lands, and he has been called “an early and important activist in the conservation movement” (Wikipedia). By the time he was tasked with creating Yosemite and the Mariposa Grove: A Preliminary Report, 1865 for the U.S. Government, Olmsted, at age 43, had moved through four distinct periods of his professional career, all of which held in common, “His personal quest for fulfillment…characterized by immersion in some endeavor to which he devoted himself completely so long as he deemed it to be in the best interest of the nation” (Fein, 15).

As Victoria Post Ranney writes in the introduction to Olmsted’s report, “Olmsted saw the Yosemite region when it was new to all but Native Americans…and his description of its landscape gives us a standard by which to gauge its health today” (xx). The United States Government granted the State of California the Yosemite Valley and the Mariposa Big Tree Grove on 30 June 1864, stipulating, “’the State shall accept this grant upon the expressed condition that the premises shall be held for public use, resort, and recreation, and shall be inalienable for all time.’ The valley and grove were to be administered by the governor through a group of commissioners appointed by him, and Olmsted acted as first President of the Commission” (Fein, 39).

Though his report of 1865 was adopted by the commission, due to costs identified by Olmsted, it wouldn’t be until 1890 that Yosemite became a national park. (Yellowstone National Park, established in 1872, was the very first.) Olmsted’s report was suppressed, never to be submitted to the legislature (Ranney, xix).

Costs to establish Yosemite National Park prepared by Olmsted as part of his preliminary report. “Yosemite and the Mariposa Grove: A Preliminary Report, 1865.”

In the intervening years between his report and Yosemite’s official establishment as a national park, Olmsted moved on to many other projects, including his collaboration with Daniel Burnham to adapt his initial design for the South Park Commission site — now known as Jackson Park, Washington Park and the Midway Plaisance — for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, Illinois.

Government Building and Wooded Island. Large photographic print from The White City (As It Was), photographs by William Henry Jackson. World’s Columbian Exposition 1893. Digital Identifier: GN90799d_JWH_019w. World’s Columbian Exposition Collection at The Field Museum.

As the Chicago Architecture Foundation features on its website, “Now, Olmsted’s vision is the talk of the town again, as discussions continue regarding the design and construction of the new Obama Presidential Center in Jackson Park. Michael Van Valkenburgh, who is leading the project’s landscape architecture, says he believes the center will provide an opportunity to bring the park into the 21st century, while restoring some of Olmsted’s plans.”

Whether a national park, city boulevard, or planned community, Frederick Law Olmsted was a visionary whose plans continue to expand, inform, and delight for the enjoyment of one and all.

References

Chicago Architecture Foundation. “Frederick Law Olmsted.” Accessed March 9, 2020. http://www.architecture.org/learn/resources/architecture-dictionary/entry/frederick-law-olmsted/

Fein, Albert. Frederick Law Olmsted and the American Environmental Tradition.

Foderaro, Lisa. “The Parks that Made the Man Who Made Central Park.” New York Times, October 30, 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/30/travel/footsteps-frederick-law-olmsted-parks.html

Gopnik, Adam. “The Hero of Central Park.” The New Yorker, March 24, 1997. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1997/03/31/olmsteds-trip

Olmsted, Frederick Law. 1888. “Editorial: Foreign Plants and American Scenery” Arnoldia v. 60 (2000): 22-24.

Olmsted, Frederick Law; introduction by Victoria Post Ranney. 1995. “Yosemite and the Mariposa Grove: A Preliminary Report, 1865.” Yosemite National Park, California, Association: Yosemite Association.

Ranney, Victoria Post. 1998. Olmsted in Chicago. Chicago: Field Museum.

Runte, Alfred. 2010. National Parks: The American Experience. Lanham, Maryland : Taylor Trade Publishing.

Rybczynksi, Witold. 2013. A Clearing in the Distance: Frederick Law Olmsted and America in the 19th Century. New York: Scribner.

Wikipedia. 2020. “Frederick Law Olmsted.” Accessed March 9, 2020. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_Law_Olmsted

April 2020 marks the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. Organizations around the world have commemorated the occasion by participating in the global Earth Optimism movement — an initiative spearheaded by the Smithsonian to “turn the conservation conversation from doom and gloom to optimism and opportunity”.

Throughout 2020, the Biodiversity Heritage Library (BHL) and our partners are joining the movement by sharing conservation success stories from and made possible by the BHL collection. Follow our blog for conservation stories — past and present — and visit our website for more information and to explore our Earth Optimism book collection.

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The world is changed.

I feel it in the water.

I feel it in the earth.

I smell it in the air.

Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.

— Galadriel in Peter Jackson’s Fellowship of the Rings

Members of The Drew Lab at the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry (L to R): Dr. Joshua Drew (assistant professor of vertebrate conservation biology at the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry) with his students Megan Hazlett and Kate Henderson.

That we live in a changing world should come as no surprise, yet how we measure that change can greatly impact our ability to respond to it. I am a scientist who works in the field of historical ecology — that is the use of non-traditional records to try and understand what ecosystems looked like in the past. My students Kate Henderson and Megan Hazlett and I are based out of the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry, where we look at how the state’s waters and shores have changed in order to better craft conservation goals. While we work on a variety of ecosystems, they are united by our need to understand where we come from in order to help direct where we are going.

One such example of how the past can influence the future can be found with oysters in New York City. Through accessing resources in BHL like Lockwood’s 1874 “The Natural History of the Oyster“, we get a glimpse into what oyster fishing was like in the twin cities of New York and Brooklyn (then, an independent municipality). Lockwood’s accounts seem inconceivable by today’s standards; he recounts that oysters were common in Great South Bay and even in the East River. His report regales us with how the annual value of oysters sold in New York City would be over 89 million dollars in 2019 dollars, and that the industry employed around 10,000 individuals.

“Vessels dredging for oysters”. Lockwood, Samuel. “The Natural History of the Oyster.” The Popular science monthly, v. 6 (1874-1875). Contributed in BHL from MBLWHOI Library.

Oysters were the foundation, literally and figuratively, of New York’s expansion, with the cheap food feeding its expanding population and shells forming the fill upon which lower Manhattan expanded. However, this bounty was not to last forever. In fact, one could argue that the burgeoning population that the oysters fueled helped lead to their downfall. By the 1920s, incidences of Typhoid and other diseases found in oysters growing in polluted water led the city to close its oyster beds — in effect ending a gustatory bounty that had lasted for thousands of years.

Today, many oyster restoration projects in New York focus on reestablishing these oysters beds — not for food (yet), but rather as key components to climate change resiliency. There has been a renaissance in thinking about oysters in New York, largely facilitated by the Billion Oyster Project and others. Their goal, shared by many other New Yorkers, is to bring oysters back to New York City and restore New Yorkers’ connections to this largely forgotten aspect of our heritage. Perhaps by better understanding the extent of the oyster beds and the close connections New Yorkers in the past had with the humble invertebrate, ambitious projects like the Billion Oyster Project will strike a chord with stakeholders, and we can think of these resiliency programs as avenues to restore what was once a key feature of, and a source of pride for, New York City.

A key idea that we can take from our study of historical ecology is that the past can help us to understand the future. Another example of how we can apply this is by combining museum collections, historic field notes and observations, and old records to study how fish populations have changed in Central New York. By understanding how the ecosystems have changed — how fish populations and community compositions have shifted and which factors were responsible for these shifts — we are better able to determine conservation priorities and predict the effects of future changes.

Map showing areas included in surveys of the Oswego river system in New York during the summer of 1927. New York (State) Conservation Department. A biological survey of the Oswego River system. Supplemental to Seventeenth annual report, 1927. (1928). Contributed in BHL from University of Connecticut Libraries.

Within the Oswego River watershed, which encompasses the Fingerlakes region and Oneida Lake, detailed, state-wide surveys have been occurring since the 1920s. Environmental factors such as land use; local, state, and national management decisions and policy initiatives; invasive species; and climate have changed over the century since these surveys began, so by comparing the historic data to modern data we can examine how those changes may have correlated to changes in fish assemblages. This information can give us insight into how to create future adaptive management strategies for conservation and restoration areas in the face of new anthropogenic stressors.

Historic data are important for many studies, but the data are not always easy to find. Physical documents can be lost over time, and issues with cataloging can lead to misplaced data. Even sources of data saved in online repositories can be subject to link rot. In other cases, although data are preserved, they end up split up and spread out over a variety of collections and managers, causing researchers to miss “pieces of the puzzle.” Data repositories managed by organizations such as the Biodiversity Heritage Library, the New York State Museum, and the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation can improve the organization and classification of historic data.

Table showing chemical analyses of various streams of the Oswego watershed from surveys during the summer of 1927. New York (State) Conservation Department. A biological survey of the Oswego River system. Supplemental to Seventeenth annual report, 1927. (1928). Contributed in BHL from University of Connecticut Libraries.

The work in our lab highlights how the past can contribute to a vibrant future and that stable, authoritative and trust-worthy repositories of these documents — such as BHL — can continue to inspire the public, support researchers, and empower communities to think deeply about their past. The real advantage of BHL is keeping our ecological memory intact and not allowing us to collectively forget how beautiful, wild, and diverse ecosystems of the past were. If we succumb to this collective amnesia, we risk setting our conservation bar too low and allowing the dulling of our natural environments to continue without even recognizing our losses.

April 2020 marks the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. Organizations around the world have commemorated the occasion by participating in the global Earth Optimism movement — an initiative spearheaded by the Smithsonian to “turn the conservation conversation from doom and gloom to optimism and opportunity”.

Throughout 2020, the Biodiversity Heritage Library (BHL) and our partners are joining the movement by sharing conservation success stories from and made possible by the BHL collection. Follow our blog for conservation stories — past and present — and visit our website for more information and to explore our Earth Optimism book collection.

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Photo of George Washington Carver by Frances Benjamin Johnston, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.

“‘When I touch that flower,’ he said softly, ‘I am not merely touching that flower. I am touching infinity. That little flower existed long before there were human beings on this earth. It will continue to exist for thousands, yes, millions of years to come.”‘

— George Washington Carver, as quoted in The man who talks with the flowers; the intimate life story of Dr. George Washington Carver (Clark, 1939)

Carver, George Washington. Nature’s Garden for Victory and Peace. 1942. Contributed in BHL by U.S. Department of Agriculture, National Agricultural Library.

Widely known as the “Peanut Man”, George Washington Carver is a famous historical figure in the world of agriculture. His work with peanuts is the first thing many learn about him in grade school, and indeed he popularized an underused versatile legume. He also worked extensively with sweet potatoes, soybeans, tomatoes, and much more. However, he sought to do more than highlight particular foodstuffs. He was interested in creating social change through agriculture, and thoughtfully caring for the soil that would bring about this change. Carver sought to encourage sustainable farming practices, move nature education outside the classroom, and improve the livelihoods and economic security of poor Black farmers in the South. Somewhere in the enticing history of peanut farming we lose the knowledge of his passion for conservation; Carver was instrumental in highlighting the need for agriculture to be intertwined with ecology.

“Unkindness to anything means an injustice done to that thing. If I am unkind to you I do you an injustice, or wrong you in some way. On the other hand, if I try to assist you in every way that I can to make a better citizen and in every way to do my very best for you, I am kind to you.

The above principles apply with equal force to the soil. The farmer whose soil produces less every year, is unkind to it in some way; that is, he is not doing by it what he should; he is robbing it of some substance it must have, and he becomes, therefore, a soil robber rather than a progressive farmer.” (Carver, 1914)

Carver began his studies as the first African American student at the Iowa Agriculture College (now Iowa State University) in 1891. Louis Pammel, Carver’s advisor, was instrumental in shaping Carver’s views on ecology. Pammel felt that ecology was incredibly important to the field of agriculture, particularly the need to achieve agricultural equilibrium between crops and natural species (Hersey, 2011). Carver followed his mentor’s teachings closely and went on to complete his master’s degree in Iowa.  In 1896, Booker T. Washington offered him the role of head of the agriculture department at the Tuskegee Institute. The following year, the state of Alabama established an Agricultural Experiment Station at Tuskegee, the first of its kind at a Black institution.

“When my train left the golden wheat fields and the tall green corn of Iowa for the acres of cotton, nothing but cotton, my heart sank a little…The scraggly cotton grew close up to the cabin doors; a few lonesome collards, the only sign of vegetables; stunted cattle, boney mules; fields and hill sides cracked and scarred with gullies and deep ruts…Not much evidence of scientific farming anywhere. Everything looked hungry: the land, the cotton, the cattle, and the people.” (Carver, 1941)

Though Carver focused his instruction on the relationships between plants, he also looked specifically at how people interact with nature. While at Iowa, he was a member of the Welch Eclectic Society, which focused on strengthening skills in literature, science, and public speaking; in this group he often wrote poetry and performed music (Gart, 2014). He was an advocate of the nature study movement, which tied personal, spiritual, artistic, and observational experience with the natural world. Correlating perspectives of nature with personal responsibility solidifies the importance of conservation. Nature study was often employed at the time to provide primary school children opportunities to work with gardens. Carver also took his adult students out into the natural world to experience what they were learning aesthetically. While at Tuskegee, he served on the board of Nature-Study Review, and also penned Progressive Nature Studies. In it, Carver highlights why he felt so strongly about this kind of study:

“The thoughtful educator realizes that a very large part of the child’s education must be gotten outside of the four walls designated as class room. He also understands that the most effective and lasting education is the one that makes the pupil handle, discuss and familiarize himself with the real things about him, of which the majority are surprisingly ignorant… If properly taught the practical Nature study method cannot fail to both entertain and instruct. It is the only true method that leads up to a clear understanding of the fundamental principles which surround every branch of business in which we may engage. It also stimulates thought, investigation, and encourages originality.” (Carver, 1897)

Carver, George Washington. Nature Study and Gardening for Rural Schools. 1910. Contributed in BHL by U.S. Department of Agriculture, National Agricultural Library.

Carver was invested in scientific education and sharing the joy of ecology with people outside of academia as well. He spent a great deal of his time providing short courses for those unable to attend the Institute; both farmers and educators benefited from these opportunities. He spoke widely at state fairs and other public venues, emphasizing that understanding the whole of the natural world, of which crops are a component, is essential to being least harmful to that world.

In some notes on his coursework, Carver defined agriculture as “…the cultivation or the manipulation of the soil in such a way as to bring about the greatest possible yield of products useful to man with the least injury to the soil and at the least expense” (Hersey, 2011). This message was evident in his work, especially as it tied to economic independence for farmers. His very first experimental station bulletin highlighted the use of the acorn as an inexpensive and nutritious food source for livestock; not only were acorns widely available to poor farmers, but also the usage provided the added economic justification for maintaining forests (Carver, 1898). Carver focused on crops that were edible, marketable, and contributed to healthy soil, such as: cowpeas, sweet potatoes, and, of course, peanuts. To this end, he published bulletins highlighting recipes for using readily available ingredients on a family farm.

Carver, George Washington. How to Grow the Peanut, and 105 Ways of Preparing it for Human Consumption. 1916. Contributed in BHL by U.S. Department of Agriculture, National Agricultural Library.

Carver spent a great deal of time studying alternatives for the purposes of improving soil quality and frugality. He was a champion for crop rotation and natural fertilization. “His was in many ways a voice alone, the voice of one calling not in the wilderness—like his more famous contemporaries—but in denuded and depleted fields white with bolls of cotton” (Hersey, p 220). Carver was concerned with reducing erosion of the topsoil, and he highlighted the importance of forest preservation in providing rich nutrients to that topsoil. He persuaded Tuskegee Institute to collect leaves from the trees within its land holdings for use in his work. He advocated more extensive plowing to aerate and mix the soil. He tested and promoted the use of natural fertilizers, arguing for their scientific merits as well as their accessibility to farmers with fewer means to purchase commercial products. He focused on crops that would bring the least damage to the soil while also providing yields to farmers over longer periods of time (Burchard & George Washington Carver National Monument (Mo.), 2005).

Carver did not publish prolifically as is expected in scientific fields, nor did he keep extensive laboratory records. There is some controversy over his scientific achievements as these metrics often require. Additionally, his push for sustainable farming and providing economic independence for Black farmers was unrealized. His ideas flew in the face of the politics and practices of the South where sharecropping was rampant (Kaufman 2019). The poorest farmers were in thrall to their landlords and were only given latitude to diversify crops when cotton prices were low. When it was allowed, most new crops needed attention in the spring and summer, when cotton was demanding. While the early 1900s saw a dramatic increase in Black homeowners in the South, soon after the United States faced the Great Depression and World War I, decreasing those numbers yet again (Hersey, 2011). Though Carver and the Tuskegee Institute attempted to push for better practices by working with white landlords, this understandably caused concern for many of the Black farmers who had been subject to many disreputable landlords over time. Additionally, his colleagues often considered his suggestions and concern over the natural world to be “feminine” and thus outside of the scientific pursuits of the day.

Though many may not initially think of Carver while considering conservation efforts over time, his goal was to marry preservation of the natural world with more accessible and successful farming practices. His ideas were almost prescient considering the more widespread cries that came much later to prevent deforestation for both environmental and agricultural benefits, the focus on organic farming, and the concern of the effect of pollutants from agriculture on the natural world. His influence on conservation may sometimes get lost in the excitement over peanuts, but the BHL contains windows into the complexity of his research and his historical impact on agriculture and conservation.

Check out sources included in this post in the curated BHL Earth Optimism collection.

To see all BHL content by Dr. Carver, see his author profile in BHL.

Works Cited

Burchard, P. D., & George Washington Carver National Monument (Mo.). (2005). George Washington Carver, for his time and ours : special history study : natural history related to George Washington Carver National Monument, Diamond, Missouri. Omaha, Nebraska: National Park Service. Retrieved from: https://www.nps.gov/gwca/learn/management/upload/GWC-For-His-Time-Ours-Spec-History-Study.pdf

Carver, G. W. (1897). Progressive nature studies. Tuskegee, Alabama: Tuskegee Institute Print.

Carver, G. W. (1898). Feeding acorns. Tuskegee, Alabama: Normal School Steam Press.

Carver, G. W. (1910). Nature study and gardening for rural schools. Tuskegee Institute, Alabama: Experiment Station, Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute,.

Carver, G. W. (1914). Being Kind to the Soil. The Negro Farmer, p. 1.

Carver, G. W. (1916). How to grow the peanut, and 105 ways of preparing it for human consumption. Tuskegee, Alabama: Tuskegee Institute.

Carver, G. W. (1942). Nature’s garden for victory and peace (Revised and reprinted. ed. Vol. no.43). [Tuskegee]: Tuskegee Institute.

Carver, G. W., “Script for Dr. George W. Carver Broadcast: U. S. Office of Education,” 19 October 1941,

TIA, 46,989 & 62, 151.

Clark, G. (1939). The man who talks with the flowers; the intimate life story of Dr. George Washington Carver. Saint Paul, Minn.: Macalester Park Publishing Co.

Gart, J. (2014). He shall direct thy paths: The early life of George W. Carver, historic resource study George Washington Carver National Monument, Diamond, Missouri. Omaha, Nebraska: National Park Service. Retrieved from:

Hersey, M. D. (2011). My work is that of conservation : an environmental biography of George Washington Carver. Athens: University of Georgia Press.

Kaufman, R. (2019). In Search of George Washington Carver’s True Legacy. Smithsonian Magazine. Retrieved from https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/search-george-washington-carvers-true-legacy-180971538/.

The first edition of The Fishes of Illinois was published in 1908 by the Illinois State Laboratory of Natural History, representing several decades’ work to document species, distributions, and ecology. The work features detailed, color paintings of fishes attributed to Lydia M. (Hart) Green and Charlotte M. Pinkerton. The first edition included 55 images representing 53 species, with 20 images representing 18 additional species added for the 1920 second edition. Images were not credited to specific artists in either edition.

Large Mouthed black Bass. Forbes, S.A. and R.E. Richardson. Fishes of Illinois. 1908. Illustration by Lydia Moore (Hart) Green. Digitized in BHL by University Library, University of Illinois Urbana Champaign.

Most of the originals were kept by State Laboratory (now Illinois Natural History Survey) and are being reviewed in preparation for accession into the University Library, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Artists have been identified for most color plates in the 2 editions: 33 by Green, 24 by Pinkerton. Three paintings bearing the name of Max Bihn (one published) were also found among the paintings long assumed to be the work of Green and Pinkerton alone. Green routinely applied a distinctive signature in ink to the front of her work.

Signature from Lydia Hart’s Fundulus notatus (INHS image 2181).

Lydia Moore (Hart) Green, was born in Quincy, IL in December 1864. She and Charles Arthur Hart, employed by the State Laboratory 1895-1918, were siblings. Lydia studied Art and Design at the University of Illinois during the 1887-1888 school year. Warrants listed in the Report of the Board of Trustees beginning in 1888 show Lydia was paid for tasks including “work in cabinets,” “work in museum,” “labelling specimens,” “making chart,” and “botanical drawings.” When artist A.M. Westergren left the State Laboratory in 1892, Lydia replaced him. Her illustrations appear in the Bulletin of the State Laboratory of Natural History, Reports of the State Entomologist, and elsewhere. Her 101 detailed illustrations of insects were a noted feature of the State Laboratory’s exhibit at the 1893 Columbian Exposition. She was frequently mentioned as an asset to the State Laboratory in Stephen A. Forbes’ reports to the Trustees. In 1898, Forbes secured for her a salary of $20.00 per month, or 35 cents per hour with additional pay possible if hours exceeded what the base salary would cover.

Work on illustrations for The Fishes of Illinois began in the summer of 1900.[1] Lydia worked at the Biological Station at Meredosia, where there was an aquarium set up to house her live models. Her work was supervised by the State Laboratory’s ichthyologist, Thomas Large.

In a letter to Forbes dated 30 June 1900, Lydia negotiated her pay, based on comparisons with the pay of her mentor, Westergren, and a Mr. Baldwin.

“But you know how inaccurate his drawings are—practically useless so far… It must be admitted that he was a fast worker, but his rapidity seems to have been largely the result of carelessness and was small gain in the end. In conclusion it would seem that $100 or 70c per hr. would be as low as fairness would permit and 60c the very lowest to be considered. From: Chief’s Correspondence, 1871-1909. University Archives. Series Number: 43/1/1

She was referring to A. H. Baldwin, who had received payment for fish drawings and specimens around this time. Baldwin was the illustrator of The Fishes of North and Middle America (Jordan & Evermann, 1900), which Forbes cited as a key reference for the Fishes of Illinois. Subsequent correspondence indicates Forbes was not swayed, and may have been offended.

In December 1900, Lydia traveled to Stanford University to work on illustrations for a work by Jordan on Japanese fishes, and Lydia’s illustrations are acknowledged in papers published by Jordan after this visit. Lydia wrote Forbes on 5 April 1901 from Palo Alto, sharing Jordan’s approval of her eel drawings and her observations on the speed of fellow illustrators there (Mrs. Sparks, and A. H. Baldwin). She also asked Forbes to send examples of her best work “the red fin, the garmani, and the plate of young bass for the purpose of getting criticisms from Hudson, who is expected soon.” In the same letter, she asked about resuming work on the Illinois fish, and the pay.

The blotched snake-eel (Ophichthus erabo), synonym microdonophis erabo. Jordan, D. S. A review of the apodal fishes or eels of Japan, with descriptions of nineteen new species (1901). Illustration by Lydia Moore (Hart) Green. Digitized in BHL by Smithsonian Libraries.

The guineafowl puffer or golden puffer (Arothron meleagris), synonym Tetraodon meleagris. Jordan, D. S. A review of the gymnodont fishes of Japan (1902). Illustration by Lydia Moore (Hart) Green. Digitized in BHL by Smithsonian Libraries.

On 17 June 1901 in Urbana, Lydia married entomologist E. C. Green. In August, she was at the Illinois Biological Station in Ottawa working on fish illustrations, and reported to Forbes that, at his request to reduce expenses, she has given up her room in Ottawa for a much smaller one. Forbes had apparently offered 50 cents per hour plus expenses, but by September, the agreement was adjusted to $10 per finished painting, and Lydia was asking to have her expenses covered when there were no fish available to draw. Work on the fish illustrations continued through 1907, but Lydia left in 1902 for Texas when her husband took a position at Texas A&M. By January 1902, Forbes was seeking a replacement illustrator, and had contacted Charlotte M. Pinkerton through Seth E. Meeks at the Field Museum. The Chicago Tribune published a feature on Lydia and her work on 1 June 1902 that told the story of her discovery by the artist at the State Laboratory (presumably Westergren) and gave Lydia’s endorsement of scientific illustration as “admirable for feminine students”.

Lydia Moore (Hart) Green. Freeland Tribune. (Freeland, Pa.), 11 July 1902. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress. Source: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87080287/1902-07-11/ed-1/seq-4/. Image originally appeared in a feature in the Chicago Tribune, “An Illinois woman who paints insects”.

After leaving her position at the State Laboratory and Illinois, Lydia visited Urbana regularly according to reports in the Daily Illini. She returned to Urbana to live in 1917, but I did not find evidence of further work for the Illinois State Laboratory of Natural History. Her husband was at this time working in Brazil on cotton insect control, and she made several extended visits there, applying for her first passport in 1918 for this purpose.

1918 passport photo of Lydia Moore Hart Green, United States Passport Applications, 1795-1925. Source: https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QV5B-X87G.

In 1930, Green produced fish illustrations for the Ohio Division of Wildlife. Nine years after Lydia’s death (in 1948), these images were published in Trautman, M. B. Fishes of Ohio with illustrated keys. Ohio State University Press, 1957.

[1] Stephen Alfred Forbes, report dated September 20, 1900 published in the 21^st Report of the Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois.

Hispaniolan solenodon (Solenodon paradoxus). Illustration from “XIII. Notes on the habits and external characters of the Solenodon of San Domingo (Solenodon paradoxus)” by Alpheus Hyatt. The Annals and Magazine of Natural History. Ser. 7, v. 20 (1907). Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

The Hispaniolan solenodon is a unique, and at first glance somewhat peculiar, animal. Even its scientific name conveys the unusualness of the species — Solenodon paradoxus.

One of two extant solenodon species (the other being the Cuban solenodon), the Hispaniolan solenodon is found only in Haiti and the Dominican Republic. It, like its Cuban counterpart, is endangered.

As members of the mammalian Order Eulipotyphla, which includes insectivores such as shrews, hedgehogs, and moles, solenodons diverged from all other living mammals over 70 million years ago. They are only found in the Caribbean, making them an important priority for the conservation of evolutionary diversity. This long history means that they have survived countless extinction events and only today are threatened.

Dr. Alexis Mychajliw (Postdoctoral Research Fellow at the La Brea Tar Pits & Museum of the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County) has been studying the Hispaniolan solenodon as part of her research on Caribbean mammals for more than five years. Much of her work has focused on flipping the narrative of the Hispaniolan solenodon from endangered weirdo to resilient survivor.

Dr. Alexis Mychajliw exploring potential asphaltic (“tar pit”) fossil localities on the Caribbean island of Trinidad. Photo by A Farrell.

In partnership with the National Museum of Natural History in Santo Domingo and the conservation group Grupo Jaragua, Mychajliw and her colleagues have taken a “conservation paleobiology” approach to understanding the long-term drivers of decline and resilience for the Hispaniolan solenodon and Hispaniolan hutia (Plagiodontia aedium) — the two remaining nonvolant mammals in Hispaniola.

Together with her colleagues Lauren Gibson, Ernst Rupp, and Yolanda Leon, Mychajliw worked to better understand the determinants of the decline of solenodons across Hispaniola. Specifically, is this decline a recent trend linked to introduced predators like dogs, is it linked to the first arrival of humans, or part of a larger arc of decline linked to millennial scale climate change? They addressed these questions by compiling data on solenodon occurrences over time from numerous sources — including some historic documents from the Biodiversity Heritage Library (BHL).

A map showing the localities used in the study on S. paradoxus published in Conservation Biology in 2019, including some taken from BHL documents (Gibson et al 2019).

“XIII. Notes on the habits and external characters of the Solenodon of San Domingo (Solenodon paradoxus)” by Alpheus Hyatt, published in 1907, was a particularly informative source for this research.

“I would never have found this document without BHL,” shares Mychajliw. It is now one of her favorite publications in the Library.

The article begins: “Although Solenodon paradoxus of San Domingo and Haiti was discovered and imperfectly described as early as 1839, several years before the Cuban species (Solenodon cubanus) was known to science, it is still practically unknown to recent zoologists. The published descriptions of this rare and interesting mammal are vague and unsatisfactory.”

Hyatt then proceeds to discuss the species’ rarity — even as early as 1900, it was already in decline: “And when, in December 1906, I undertook a collecting-trip to San Domingo with the avowed intention of obtaining the Solenodon, prominent zoologists stated that the quest was hopeless, one of them saying I would be as likely to secure specimens of ghosts as of Solenodon paradoxus” [emphasis added].

A ghost, according to Alpheus Hyatt’s colleague – a photo of the Hispaniolan Solenodon (S. paradoxus) as it emerges from its den in the Dominican Republic. Mychajliw and her colleagues combined BHL literature searches with camera trap surveys conducted by Grupo Jaragua to understand how their distribution has changed over time. Photo by E Rupp of Grupo Jaragua.

Hyatt also provides clues to the threats facing solenodons, writing that dogs are effective predators (unfortunately, a trend that has only increased): “They also claim that when pursued it frequently trips itself and tumbles heels over head. When hunted with dogs, it thrusts its head into the nearest hole or shelter, and allows itself to be captured without resistance.”

Ultimately, Mychajliw and her colleagues found that humans, and in particular their dogs, are a recent and significantly urgent threat for solenodons. While solenodons survived past climate change and the arrival of humans, the last hundred years have provided an unprecedented challenge for this wonderful and weird species.

Mychajliw’s work on Caribbean mammals is part of her larger research speciality working at the intersection of paleoecology and conservation biology. In addition to her work in Hispaniola, she also studies collections excavated from asphaltic fossil deposits in Los Angeles at the La Brea Tar Pits and Trinidad as part of the La Brea Tar Pits & Museum international “BREAS” initiative (Bridging Research and Education in Asphaltic Sites) to help create pictures of these regions’ ecosystems throughout history.

Using fossils, historic data extracted from the literature, and modern-day observations of living mammals, Mychajliw reconstructs population trends and the environmental and anthropogenic perturbations that may shape their trajectories over time. These ecological experiments can help guide conservation planning and inform specific management decisions.

BHL has been an important source of literature for Mychajliw’s research since she first discovered it as a PhD student. Her research into the drivers of Caribbean mammal extinction over the past 10,000 years required developing species lists for each island, a general understanding of extinction timing, and reconstructing the species’ body sizes — a task that seemed likely to require many museum visits to take measurements of teeth and bones.

“Luckily, I found BHL!” lauds Mychajliw. “As an early graduate student, I didn’t have the time or funds to travel to so many different museums. Instead, through BHL, I found many historic documents of the earliest excavations in the Caribbean.”

Using documents like “A second collection of Mammals from caves near St. Michel, Haiti” (Miller 1929), Mychajliw was able to obtain locality information and measurements on specimens collected from the Caribbean. She compiled this information into a database, which she could use to populate body size equations and make estimates of extinct vs. extant species body sizes.

Through this work, Mychajliw identified two waves of size-biased extinctions in the Caribbean, with large mammals disappearing at a similar time as human arrival, followed by smaller species disappearing with the arrival of European commensals such as rats and cats. This finding was communicated in a 2017 publication in the Annual Review of Ecology, Evolution, and Systematics (Cooke et al 2017).

A view of the Caribbean island of Hispaniola, approximately 5,000 years ago. This community would have included enigmatic monkeys, pygmy ground sloths, giant rodents, and venomous insectivores. Today, only 2 of 25 nonvolant mammals survive. Illustration by D Rini.

“BHL is an incredible resource that is particularly helpful for early career researchers who may not have the funds or connections to visit multiple museums or institutions to collect data,” affirms Mychajliw.

As Mychajliw’s testimonial demonstrates, historic literature like that available at BHL helps researchers incorporate centuries of knowledge into modern research. This can inform studies on everything from paleoecology to conservation, taxonomy, and even the history of science.

“The documents held in BHL inform not just my science itself, but also bring an historical perspective on those who did science before me and how the practice of science has evolved,” explains Mychajliw. “For example, in reading many of the early accounts of scientists who collected samples in the Caribbean, I can see how our societal attitudes on the importance of local knowledge has (hopefully!) changed and become more inclusive in the present day. All of the references I make to early Caribbean authors are male (a “Mr.” so and so receiving this specimen or that) – and I am happy to see more diversity in the present day.”

As Earth’s biodiversity continues to decline at a rate unprecedented in human history, an understanding of the past — from the forces that shape ecosystems to the responses of species to various stressors over time — can help inform strategies and policies to address and combat modern-day threats. By providing open access to global literature collections and the valuable data they contain, BHL will continue to provide researchers with the information they need to study and conserve life on Earth.

This year, the Biodiversity Heritage Library (BHL) and our global partners celebrated Women’s History Month with an international social media campaign: Her Natural History: A Celebration of Women in Natural History.

Kicking-off with an all-day social media blitz on International Women’s Day (8 March) and continuing throughout the month with social media and blog posts, Facebook Live events, and citizen science opportunities, Her Natural History aimed to increase awareness of and information about women in the biodiversity sciences. BHL partners also collaborated to curate the Women in Natural History Book and Female Illustrators in Natural History Flickr Collections for the campaign, featuring publications, archival materials, and illustrations by female naturalists and artists. Audiences could further engage with the work of female illustrators through the Her Natural History Coloring Book.

Extending beyond the BHL consortium, the wider community was invited to participate in the campaign by using #HerNaturalHistory to share stories, collections, publications, artworks, archival materials, exhibits, and other resources highlighting women and their contributions to natural history throughout the month. #HerNaturalHistory was also the #LibrariesOfInstagram challenge topic for March.

We were delighted with the outcomes and impact of the campaign. #HerNaturalHistory reached over 7.5 million people, with over 52 million impressions on content and over 3,100 accounts participating on social media. The campaign allowed BHL to expand its reach and engagement with existing and new audiences in notable ways, resulting in a 35% average increase in overall social reach and a 41% increase in overall social engagements compared to 2018 averages. #HerNaturalHistory also encouraged increased engagement with the works of women in BHL, fostering a 122% increase in views on books in the Women in Natural History Book Collection compared to 2018 monthly averages.

From engaging with worldwide audiences to tell the stories of so many remarkable women in science to working with our community to improve information online about the contributions of women to natural history, Her Natural History was a great example of how collaborative social media campaigns can be used to engage global audiences around important cultural and scientific topics while increasing engagement with library and archival collections.

We invite you to explore the results of the campaign in-depth within the Her Natural History campaign report.

Thank you to everyone who participated in and contributed to #HerNaturalHistory. And thank you to all of the women in science — past, present, and future — who have made such incredible contributions to biodiversity research. Thank you for giving us so many wonderful stories and accomplishments to celebrate!