search.noResults

search.searching

dataCollection.invalidEmail
note.createNoteMessage

search.noResults

search.searching

orderForm.title

orderForm.productCode
orderForm.description
orderForm.quantity
orderForm.itemPrice
orderForm.price
orderForm.totalPrice
orderForm.deliveryDetails.billingAddress
orderForm.deliveryDetails.deliveryAddress
orderForm.noItems
UNDERGRADUATE SCHOLARSHIP WINNERS


years of daily USGS discharge data for rivers in the Northeast; and used land classification techniques to assist my mentors in understanding how gold mining in the Amazon River basin impacts the concentration of sediment, and therefore, mercury. I attended the Google Earth Engine User Summit, an inter-





...like any other institution, the field will benefit from diverse perspectives. I hope to be one of them, and eventually teach in a classroom, making Earth Sciences welcoming and accessible to anyone.


national gathering of scientists, as the only undergraduate there and presented my team’s hackathon app to an audience of over 200 researchers. This hackathon experience would not have been the same without the emotional encouragement and technical support of a team comprised mainly of fellow female geoscientists. While the results of my research may be no dif- ferent than those of a male student, I can’t deny the influence of my gender in shaping the experience I’ve had obtaining them.


Aside from wanting the world to have one more kickass


female scientist, my passion for geology and Earth surface processes has also stemmed from my surroundings. Dartmouth is located in Hanover, New Hampshire, a small town nestled in the Connecticut River Valley. Rather than expecting us to learn from textbooks, our professors teach by using their classes’ lab periods to take field trips. I’ve learned about basaltic dikes by visiting Quechee Gorge, just a 10-minute drive from campus; where the gorge becomes extremely straight is where the water was able to erode through the relatively soft basaltic intrusion. I’ve seen the evidence of the Laurentide Ice Sheet as it carved out the CT River Valley; glacial striations line our hiking trails and a nearby golf course is actually an esker that was formed when the glacier steamrolled over Hanover. The land where Dartmouth sits was once occupied by glacial Lake Hitchcock and today, glacial varves lie all around our campus. In fact, the same glacier that formed these features continued to move south and then retreat, dumping a huge pile of sediment that is present-day Long Island, the place I call home.


So, why do I want to be a geologist? To one-up Marie Tharp?


Of course not. To discover another feature that lies just under my dorm? No, though I wouldn’t rule it out. In fact, I want to be a geologist, because, akin to the name of my introductory Earth Sciences course, I want to continue to learn more about how the earth works, and to present the answers— at least some of them— in an interdisciplinary way. I want to be a geologist who studies more than just rocks: who creates 3D models that dance around my display and processes data using computing power geologists have never had before. I want to celebrate the start of Landsat 9 with a launch party (see what I did there?), take advantage of the high-resolution satellite images being produced by private companies, and scratch the surface of knowing how the four-billion-year-old structure of our planet will change as it warms at an increasing rate.


Beyond that, I want to be a geologist to encourage others to


do the same. Geology is a field often occupied by those privileged enough to have been exposed to physical, outdoor activities from an early age— a population that is largely white, able, affluent, and male. However, like any other institution, the field will benefit from diverse perspectives. I hope to be one of them, and eventually teach in a classroom, making Earth


www.aipg.org Jul.Aug.Sep 2019 • TPG 25


Sciences welcoming and accessible to anyone. Because there must be a million more Marie Tharps out there, and we should be putting their names first.


Benjamin Thyer, SA-9928 The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Carolinas Section


I remember wandering through Washington D.C.’s Smithsonian Museum of Natural History as a young boy, my thoughts racing through ancient and for- eign environments as my feet carried


me across thousands of years, from dioramas of the ocean floor teeming with unfamiliar life, to the early shores of the Ordovician, where I bore witness to the first plants struggling to put down roots on land. As I passed through the exhibits, the story of Earth unfolded before me— but I didn’t know at the time what I would write in the pages set aside for me. I did know; however, that I wanted to learn more and go deeper in the fascinating area of Earth science.


Before I declared my Earth science major, I had been a


music major in my early college years. I always understood that music became infinitely more interesting the more someone learned about it. Although an untrained ear may understand the surficial beauty of a piece of music, a scholar of music can intellectually explore into the intricacies of harmony, form, and texture, and as a result is far more equipped to profoundly engage with the musical language of a piece— a highly satis- fying endeavor. In much the same way, a geologist begins to understand rocks, structures, and landforms as songs of the earth, with stories to be told in the unfolding of their past. Geology teaches us to engage in the language of the earth, so that the richness of earth processes informs the observant geologist and elevates their love for the structure, landforms, and materials of the planet. Geology calls me because I want to get to know the earth better; I want to speak its language and to study the harmony of this blue sphere we call home.


The first time I heard this music of the earth was when


I drove across the country to work for the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center as a GeoCorps Education Intern in Baker City, Oregon. That summer, my adventurous spirit led my weekend wanderings through the Cascades to the coast, through the desert landscapes and limitless skies of Eastern Oregon, Washington, and Idaho, to the forests and


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64