Miser Silas Marner
Cognitive effort and auto-pilot
Psychologists have long observed that muggles like us shift into auto-pilot to save cognitive effort.
We’re all cognitive misers.
But sometimes it’s a good idea to break habits.
For example, I look for teaching moments throughout the day: opportunities when I can help a student figure our something for herself.
Sometimes I end up doing rather than guiding. Continue reading
Posted in american indian, authenticity, framing, Native Science, science communication, writing
Tagged cognitive miser, George Elliot, literacy, native press, native science, rhetoric, Silas Marner, stereotypes
Got a rare disease? Step to the back of the line if you’re poor
Most of us understand a thread in the tapestry of how capitalism works: when folks demand something—such as cell phones—investors jump into the fray, markets open, and prices drop.
Competition encourages more competition, where entrepreneurs are deemed successful if they can compete for a share of the market.
The more competition, the lower the prices. At least, that’s the logic of the market place.
But what happens when you have a corner on the market?
You can charge any price you want. Continue reading
Posted in affordable care, framing, Indian, Native Science, science, science communication, writing
Tagged Daraprim, health care, literacy, science journalism, Turing
Give her the shot
Adam and Eve
Once again childhood vaccines are at the news forefront.
Seems that one of the presidential hopefuls thinks vaccines cause autism.
I viewed this week’s debate through the periscope of the internet. Here’s what I learned:
Donald Trump says vaccines cause autism. Continue reading
Posted in affordable care, american indian, authenticity, framing, health, health insurance, heuristics, native american, vaccine
Tagged American Indian, rhetoric, science, science journalism
The 1875 delegation to Washington DC (Bad Wound and Rosie Red Top, seated, center front)
Visiting the reservation reminds me that I’m a poster child for the folks who tried to integrate Indians into the mainstream version of settler life—what Robert Warrior calls a Judeo-Christian viewpoint fueled by material capital.
When I return to the place where my mother and her mother and her mother were born, I see indigenous people who stayed in Oklahoma.
Oklahoma is still home to the Osage.
For the Osage, pieces of the reservation were carved up by the U.S. Government and given to tribal members at the turn of the 20th century, with the hope they would sell their land and assimilate into mainstream culture.
Many did, including my relatives. Continue reading
This week some of my sisters and I returned to Oklahoma to take care of paperwork–always best done in person on the Rez–and visit relatives at Greyhorse cemetery.
Our ancestors’ headstones stand side by side by side: Relatives who left South Dakota and Nebraska in the 1800s to join the Osages and a few born here in Hominy.
My step-father passed away this year (and my youngest brother followed suit) so the visit marked our chance to see Dad’s name, recently added to the granite stone placed a few years ago for my mother.
Now my parents are together.
Because there are so many children–eight from more than one marriage–our family gatherings are a big burly mess. Continue reading
Posted in american indian, family values, Indian, Indian remains, memory, native american, native press, Native Science, Osage
Tagged Family Gathering, Greyhorse Cemetery, Mom and Dad, native press, native science, Osage, Tiyospaye
Don’t forget your glasses
After attending a recent university business meeting, one member of the group—a graduate student—came over and said I perked up the meeting.
She meant it in a nice way.
Your face lights up and I can see the gleam in your eye, she said.
It’s because I’m a trickster.
Now the secret is out. Continue reading
Is this your bag, lady?
I was searching through my purse for a strip of paper to wrap around my chewed gum and found my bicycle horn buried at the bottom.
Who else carries around a bike horn?
When I park my bike I pull off the horn because some folks like to help themselves to items that aren’t locked down.
Guess that says something about me. Continue reading